#chaotic elegant asks
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chaoticelegant · 4 months ago
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If you could read one last book, where and what would you read? Withal, do you believe that the universe has conspired for you to be who you are and where you are?
Oh what a torturous question to ask…
After intense deliberation, a very close tie between His Majesty’s Dragon by Naomi Novik and the complete Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle has emerged. It would be shameful to ask me to choose between my two favorites of all time and I shan’t.
I would read either on a sunny midsummer evening in the Yorkshire Dales after a rainstorm, preferably with my partner.
As to the universe, I do not think there is any great plan or conspiracy. I think there is luck, and that is something that you can have, gain, and run out of. I am a lucky person, but I also have made my own luck. The universe may have put things in my path, but I ultimately chose what to do with the cards I was dealt.
I am who I am and I am where I am just as much despite the universe as because of it.
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sundial-bee-scribbles · 2 years ago
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Okay vocalore which isn't technically canon but definitely something. In Project Diva X there's several energies that each module has, being Cool, Cute, Quirky (or Chaotic in the jpn ver), Elegant, and Classic (the basic bitches). And these modules make the vocaloid act a certain way so it's not actually unheard of in vocalore for a vocaloid to be kinda sorta programmed to do shit. Anyway fuka's energy is probably like. Heartbroken or smth -🌟
ooh i vaguely knew abt the different module energies and slightly acting different but i didnt know it was like that deep deep?
ABKSJDHGKJ HEARTBROKEN ENERGY NOOOO. bruh who are these programmers someone get them fired. that is so so mean 😭😭
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txrully · 6 days ago
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BLLK BOYS' CHRISTMAS GIFTS!
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chars: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, chigiri hyoma, mikage reo, hiori yo, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, michael kaiser, alexis ness x fem! reader (all seperate)
a/n: whew that's a lot of characters.. ;-;
isagi yoichi
he’s overthinking. like, seriously overthinking. this man has researched “best gifts for girlfriends” on google at least five times. a candle? too basic. jewelry? what if you don’t like it? a heartfelt handwritten letter? too corny.
it takes bachira dragging him to a mall (where he immediately gets overwhelmed by the crowds) to finally decide. he ends up picking out a cute sweater that’s totally your style and pairs it with a charm bracelet he thinks would look adorable on you. bonus: he spends an extra half hour wrapping it perfectly. there’s no way he’s messing this up.
... except he accidentally forgets the tag and panics, scribbling a little sticky note with “to the best girlfriend ever :)” right before handing it to you.
bachira meguru
bachira’s gift? chaotic perfection. this man goes all out, no second-guessing. he decides on a custom plushie that looks like you and him as little cartoon characters (it’s both adorable and mildly terrifying, let’s be real).
but that’s not all. he also makes a scrapbook filled with random polaroids of the two of you – some cute, some extremely cursed – and decorates every page with colorful doodles and washi tape.
he doesn’t bother with wrapping paper, though. he hands it to you in a giant gift bag covered in glitter with the words “BEST GIRLFRIEND IN THE WORLD!” written in permanent marker.
rin itoshi
rin claims he doesn’t “do christmas.” yeah, okay, mr. grinch. except he totally does, because he’s secretly been working on his gift for weeks. he gets you something practical but meaningful, like a sleek pair of headphones in your favorite color, engraved with your initials.
oh, and he throws in a tiny sanrio keychain because he noticed you staring at one in a store once. (yes, he remembers these things. don’t ask how.)
he doesn’t say much when he gives it to you, just a quiet “merry christmas” while awkwardly avoiding your gaze. but you catch the little smile when you say you love it, and it’s the best present of all.
nagi seishiro
nagi... completely forgot it was christmas until reo reminded him. but don’t worry, he’s got this! (or so he claims.)
his idea of a “perfect” gift is something chill and cozy – like a weighted blanket and a pair of fluffy socks, because he knows you love staying warm. he wraps them in the most halfhearted way possible, with tape sticking out everywhere and zero attempt at folding the edges.
“it’s what’s inside that counts,” he mumbles when you laugh at the wrapping job. you love it anyway, because it’s so him. and when you catch him napping under that same blanket with you later, you know he secretly loves it too.
chigiri hyoma
chigiri’s gift is effortlessly elegant, just like him. he spends weeks planning it out because he wants everything to be perfect. he gets you a delicate necklace with a tiny charm that reminds him of you – maybe a snowflake or a flower.
but that’s not all. he also bakes you cookies (yes, chigiri bakes, fight me on this) and arranges them in a cute little tin with a handwritten card. the card? it’s filled with heartfelt words that make you tear up just a little.
when you thank him, he gives you one of those soft smiles that makes your heart race. “only the best for you,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
mikage reo
reo spoils you. like, you tried to tell him to keep it small this year, but does reo listen? absolutely not.
his gift is an entire experience – dinner at a fancy restaurant, followed by a private ice-skating session (because, of course, he booked the whole rink). then he hands you a perfectly wrapped box containing the most beautiful dress (or outfit) he picked out just for you.
“i saw it and thought it’d look amazing on you,” he says casually, like he didn’t spend hours agonizing over it. you try to scold him for going overboard, but he just grins. “your happiness is worth it.”
hiori yo
hiori is the thoughtful gift-giver. he listens to every little thing you say and somehow remembers it all.
so when you open his gift, you’re stunned to find it’s exactly what you mentioned months ago – whether it’s a book you wanted to read, a cozy hoodie you loved, or even that random stuffed animal you gushed about once in passing.
he also includes a playlist he made just for you, filled with songs that remind him of you and your time together. when you tell him how much it means to you, he gives you a shy smile and says, “i just wanted to make sure you felt special.”
shidou ryusei
shidou’s gift? utterly unhinged but somehow sweet in the weirdest way possible. he buys you a gigantic stuffed animal—like, it barely fits through the door. why? because he “wants you to think of him when you’re hugging it.” (as if you could forget him even if you tried.)
but wait, there’s more. he also gives you a pair of matching pajamas. yes, matching. one side is obnoxiously pink with sparkly hearts (yours), and the other is black with a neon skull print (his).
when you ask him why, he just smirks and goes, “so everyone knows we’re the ultimate power couple, babe.” obnoxious? yes. thoughtful in his own shidou way? absolutely.
itoshi sae
sae doesn’t do christmas gifts. or so he says. but then he shows up at your place with a sleek little bag in hand, acting like it’s not a big deal.
inside? the perfect pair of winter gloves—luxurious, soft, and in your favorite color. oh, and he picked out a matching scarf, because, in his words, “you’re always complaining about being cold.”
he tries to play it cool when you gush over the gift, but you catch the tiniest smirk when you wrap the scarf around your neck. “don’t make it a big deal,” he mutters, but the way he watches you wear it says otherwise.
michael kaiser
kaiser’s gift is pure drama. he makes an event out of it, because, of course, he has to be the center of attention. he leads you on a whole scavenger hunt through the house, complete with cryptic notes and hints that are honestly harder than necessary.
when you finally reach the last clue, it’s a big box wrapped in glittery gold paper with an obnoxiously large bow. inside? a designer coat that probably cost more than your rent.
“only the best for my empress,” he says with that signature smug grin, pulling you into his arms. when you point out he went way overboard, he shrugs and smirks. “you’re worth it.”
alexis ness
ness is the ultimate cinnamon roll gift-giver. he spends weeks making something special for you—like a scrapbook filled with photos, ticket stubs, and little notes from your time together.
but he also surprises you with something cozy, like a fluffy blanket or a custom sweater he picked out because he knows you’re always cold.
when you thank him, his cheeks turn pink, and he shyly mutters, “i just wanted you to have something that feels like a hug from me.” (stop. he’s too precious.)
© txrully 2024
do not copy, translate, plagiarize, or post my works on other platforms.
likes and reblogs appreciated :) <3
hmmm should i make a part 2 w other characters? pls lmk! ^^
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starless-nightz · 10 days ago
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Hiii can i req Jinx with s/o who is a Ballerina and can fight very elegently (ballet + gun fight when?)
Jinx with a ballerina! S/O that fights very elegently
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note -> JINX NATION IS ALIVE <333 PLEASE GIVE ME MORE REQUESTS FOR MY ARCANE WIVES :333
warnings -> none.
content includes -> fluff, fighting, she adores your fighting style.
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Jinx is mesmerized whenever she sees you fighting, unlike her chaotic, wild fighting stlye you fight so elegently, even using your ballerina skills to the use, making the fight even more beautiful.
Jinx quickly becomes your biggest fan, showering you with praise after each fight. She’ll whistle, clap, and yell out compliments during the fight, even stopping for a moment just to admire you before counting the fight.
She is fascinated by the way you are able to use your ballerina moves in a fight, even asking you to teach her some of your moves when she is bored and has nothing better to do. She would try to recreate some moves just to fall down, even when she can’t get it right, she’s thrilled to watch you spin, leap, and strike with such deadly grace.
In battle, Jinx has your back like no one else, keeping an eye out for any threats while giving you the space to do your thing. She knows exactly when to jump in and when to let you dance across the battlefield, trusting you completely and feeling a rush of thrill each time she watches you in action.
When you practice your ballet outside of fighting, Jinx will often hang around to watch or even try to help you “warm up,” though her version of warming up is more chaotic than elegant. She might even throw in playful, teasing comments about how “deadly” you look while pointing your toes.
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the-daydreaming-show · 9 months ago
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❝never a tear, baby of mine❞ — Jason Todd
dick's version
Jason was a quiet kid. So quiet and calm that he didn't was totally a child, more was like a mini adult.
NOTE:
This is like REALLY late, because I had problems with my internet and the power on me going out, so I apologize for that.
As always, thanks to our beta reader: @igotmessymind.
And wiht no further ado, I hope you find wait worth it, I apologize again and that you for reading!!
XOXO ELLA.
This story is part or the BATMOM SCARLET WITCH UNIVERSE that I have create. I hope you enjoy!!!
𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.
WARNINGS: Mentions of child neglect; Jason (not his actual) mom death.
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Contrary to popular belief, Dick was always the son who kept you and Bruce on the edge of your seats. 
People were always surprised when you told them this. Probably, because with those blue eyes and adorable dimples, your eldest son knew how to fool people so easily. But the boy had grown up in the circus and had more energy than a thunderbolt. You couldn't count the times you found him hanging from the ceiling lamps, practicing his pirouettes. He was the reason there was a strict rule at Wayne Manor about not taking your feet off the ground without adult supervision.
Jason, your baby, he was easy. People were shocked at this statement as well.
People expected him to be a little savage whenever you guys made a public appearance, whether it was at a gala or going to the market.
Yes. You had to keep him from talking to the press, because he had a habit of being verbally deadly, but other than that he was always the calmest of kids. But other than that, he never left his calm character at all times when being in public and in private as well. 
This unfounded popular belief probably had something to do with the boy being taken off the streets by you and your husband. Literally.
Your husband kidnapped a child from an alley in Gotham on a given winter night.
Mmmh, maybe Bruce was your most chaotic boy and not Dick like you thought.
You weren't in the batcave that night, so Alfred was the one supervising the computer. But when it got particularly late, just before the sun began to rise, you woke up to find that your husband still wasn't sleeping clinging to your waist like he usually did. So you decided to go downstairs to see what was going on.
You meet Alfred, waiting with a tray with three cups of freshly brewed tea.
“Are we expecting someone, Alfred?”  you asked as you approached the man preparing everything with elegance.
“That's right, Miss” the man said, looking up with amused eyes “Master Bruce has found company on tonight's patrol” he gave you the look of a father disappointed but not surprised by his son's actions. But before you could say more or ask questions, the sound of the Batmobile in the distance made you approach the platform where the car typically parked.
Bruce jumped out of the car, in his Batman suit, without any injuries that you could see, then leaned over to help a small body out of the vehicle. He was a boy, skinny to the bone, in your eyes, dressed inappropriately for the weather, and looking around with startled eyes. You looked at your husband in confusion, Bruce could practically see the question mark on your forehead. So he walked over to you, while the boy was too gawking at the cave to notice that you guys were talking to the side.
“¿Did you kidnap a child again?” you asked in a worried whisper.
“No” Bruce defended himself, pulling off the hood of his suit so that you could see all of his beautiful face in front of you. “His name is Jason” he explained to you while they both looked at the boy for a moment. Jason had stepped away from the Batmobile to look down at the edge of the platform at the void below you, his cheeks against the metal of the railings. (You were mentally grateful to have convinced Bruce to put those railings all over the cave, after that Dick started spending more time there years ago). “And I found him trying to steal the tires from the Batmobile. He was alone, and he told me that he intended to sell it to buy food” he told you, and you instinctively looked at said car.
That beastly car had almost been desecrated by the little hands of a hungry child, who didn't seem at all affected by the idea of almost robbing THE Batman. You found the situation amusing.
“Really?”, you asked your husband, smiling amused. 
All while Jason was looking fascinated at the ceiling of the cave and wondering: ¿Where did the lights hang from?. He couldn't see the roof of the place.
“Yeah. And he almost got away with it.” Bruce seemed almost proud of the boy's actions, and you couldn't feel the same way. Press your lips together in an attempt not to laugh out loud. 
“¿And how does all that explain your kidnapping him?” you asked teasingly, to which Bruce rolled his eyes in exoneration and giggled impishly at it.
“You are Bruce Wayne's wife” the boy's voice made them both look at him, but the boy was not intimidated and kept talking. “Which makes sense, because if Bruce Wayne is Batman, obviously his wife will know.” he said, more like a thought out loud than a conversation with you. “My mom used to say that she would die from one of the shoes you put up and that they showed on TV, but in the end she died from the drugs, not your shoes” he explained naturally. To which you threw your head back a bit in surprise at such a natural statement about something that must have been very sad. Looking at your husband and his eyes told you it was the first time he heard about this. “I hope you don't mind, Mrs. Wayne.” the boy apologized quickly, suddenly very aware that he was talking to two of the richest people in Gotham (and the world as well) “B told me I could spend the night here. But don't worry tomorrow, in the morning I'll leave without causing any problems” he quickly explained to you.
You looked at your husband again, and he left a memory in his mind for you to see as an explanation. He showed you how he had found the boy, how Bruce had talked him into agreeing to let him buy something to eat and then offered him a place to sleep, because the boy admitted that he was all alone. With a dead mother and a father who was in prison, the boy lived on the streets of Gotham, surviving as best he could. Jason hadn't trusted him at first, which was understandable. Who knew what he had seen living on the streets of a city like Gotham. So Bruce did the only thing he could think of to gain the boy's trust, so he could get him to safety, as he took off his mask. And Jason, faced with such a show of honesty, agreed to get on the Batmobile to return with Bruce to the cave. (Or, Bruce put the boy in the car before he could get over the shock of the news. It depends on how you look at it.)
“Oh honey. Don't worry, it doesn't bother me at all, we have plenty of space available” you assured him with a sweet smile to which the boy smiled back. It was true, since Dick had moved in with the Titans, there was too much empty space for your liking. “Come, sit down and have some tea, it will help with the cold” you said, pointing up the stairs to the main platform of the cave.
“Cool!” the boy exclaimed as they started walking. Bruce instinctively reached for your hand, not wanting you to stray too far from him, just because.
Then Jason ate a dozen of Alfred's cookies, drank all his tea, and at the end, Bruce let him touch the batcomputer, watching the boy's fascination with all the buttons. (Of course, the latter was under your and Bruce's watch. You didn't want the boy to activate some self-destruct protocol or something). He played with the satellite map for a while, showing you the places he had been and the school he used to go to before his mother died. Then he started to yawn, and you were sure the sun should have risen outside by that point.
“Well, it's time to go up” you said when you saw him yawn widely for the third time. “Come on” you stood up from your seat next to him to offer him your hand. The boy frowned at you, severely confused.
“¿Up where?” he asked, looking at your hand suspiciously, but rising to take it and follow you nonetheless. You had that effect on him. You were so pretty, and warm, and kind that he thought to himself, there was no way you were real, surely all of this must be a cruel hallucination of some kind.
“Up home, Jay” you told her as you turned to be greeted by a Bruce who had already come out of his suit and was waiting for them both on the stairs to the elevator. “We're below Wayne Manor” you explained, thinking that he was confused as to what was above your heads and why they would go there.
“Will you let me sleep in your mansion?!” the surprised boy asked. There was definitely something wrong there, there was no way two of the richest people in the city would let him sleep in his house, in one of his beds, with expensive mattresses and even more expensive sheets. Impossible.
“Of course” you said with a sweet smile, “We have many empty rooms and now one of them is yours”
“Your room is ready, young Jason.” Alfred told him, joining the walk to the elevator. “Though maybe an extra cookie or two was left in the room by accident. I hope that's not a problem for you” he said, smiling complacently, at which the boy laughed mischievously. You gave him a look that Alfred pretended not to catch, and they all went on their way while.
“I didn't think you would let me sleep at your house.” the boy admitted shyly, looking at his shoes, once again thinking aloud.
It took you a second to realize that Jason had thought she'd leave him sleeping in the cave, like a stray dog, and it broke your heart. You promised yourself to do everything you could to make that little boy feel like he deserved nothing less than the best in the world.
Jason didn't leave the mansion after that day. 
Social Services didn't put up much resistance to the adoption, for two reasons. Firstly, you and Bruce already had a pretty good record of adopting and raising Dick. And second, stirring up the issue too much would show how they hadn't looked for Jason after he had run away from his last home. From what you've seen, his file only contains basic information leading up to the fact that he was supposed to be in foster care with 10-15 other kids, but clearly they've been on the streets for quite some time. And Jason seemed to have adjusted quickly when the caseworker came to visit for the first few weeks, at least to her standards. But in your eyes, the child was far from having adapted to the idea of being part of the family.
Jason gets up early, before everyone else in the house.
You had learned from the experience with Dick that establishing a strict bedtime schedule was important in the long run. So you knew he was sleeping because you watched him before you went to sleep yourself. So the boy sleeps well and you could confirm it. He had admitted to you that it had been difficult in the early days to sleep at night because he could never really be asleep while living on the streets. Something about the heavy blankets over him made him fall asleep peacefully. His lights went out before he could even finish laying his head on the pillow. Of course, this one you had invested a lot of money in more blankets for the child, which was the only thing that Jason had allowed to be bought for his room.
He assured you that the room was fine as is, and it did not need to be changed. What you'd called bullshit all along, because there was no way a kid would like a room that was the closest thing to a blank page. But you hadn't pushed him, waited until he was more comfortable in the new  environment. 
So the boy was sleeping in a guest room he didn't want to make entirely his own. He was up before anyone else in the house, even Alfred. He would get ready and go down to breakfast alone. He got what he needed by scaling the counter and cabinets if necessary, leaving Alfred to clean up the marks on his slippers. This until Jason overheard him, after which he started taking off his sneakers before climbing up to find the cereal. He ate breakfast in silence, looking out the kitchen window at the patio, then washed everything he had used by hand, even though there is a state-of-the-art dishwasher in the kitchen. He then left the kitchen and got lost in the mansion. 
Bruce found him in the mansion's library a couple of times. Jason said that he was trying to practice his reading, since he hadn't been to school since before her mom died because he had to take care of her when her dad was arrested. Your husband offered his help, but the boy refused. And since Jay realized that his hideout had been discovered, he began to roam the mansion, picking random rooms to hide in during the day when you and Bruce began to keep him company in the library. 
The child hides and avoids both of you. You at first thought that was a repeat of Dick's first few months, that Jason was mad at the world. Consequently, you would expect anger and yelling anytime you ran into Jason around the mansion. You mentally braced yourself for the thought of all that chaos again, how he would sneak out of school when he started once the holidays were over and the whole package was over. 
This time, you were ready and prepared to help him with that rage. You won't let it consume you like Dick did for a long time because you didn't know how to handle it. This time you will do well.
But Jason's eyes would light up when you or your husband greeted him in the mornings after meeting him at the house. He clung to the hands of one or both of you every time you went out into the street. He would hug your waist when you hid him from the paparazzi in the park. (You had a no-photos rule for your kids, only official photos approved by you and your husband, so you and the paparazzi didn't have the best relationship in the world.) He let you guys hug him and look at him without problem. He never initiates affection, but he clung to it when it was given to him, both from you and from Bruce, or Alfred even.
So you were confused, to say the least.
However, you had learned your lesson with Dick. There were situations in which you had to be active and aggressive to help your children. So you talked to Bruce and you both decided it was time to talk to Jason about this peculiar pattern.
Then Alfred told you that if they both faced him at the same time, it would be too intimidating for the boy, causing him to shut down more than help.
Blessings be Alfred. He has always been the smartest in the house (don't tell that to Bruce).
Like every night, Jason had already gotten ready and tucked themselves into bed. Also, he had offered to help Alfred with the cleaning like every day, but the butler had refused as he did a lot lately. So he decided to do the whole night routine without bothering you: he brushed his teeth, put on his pajamas, got into bed and read a book, like you usually offer to do. It cost him less than before, but still some words were complicated. 
You arrived shortly after he had finished reading his fourth story of the night and had accidentally gotten hooked on reading another one. You knocked on the door softly as you opened it.
“Oh, you're already in bed,” you commented, surprised that the boy had done everything himself. Usually, he lets you help with all of this without a problem, so you're disappointed that he won't let you help him.
“Yes, and I just read one story,” he said, quickly trying to hide that he had disobeyed the one-story rule. Jason didn't want you to be angry. He knew you wouldn't hurt him, but he feared your disappointment more than your fury.
“Really?”, you asked excitedly. You knew how hard he had worked to improve his reading these past few weeks to prepare for school. “That's amazing, honey,” you told him as you closed the door softly and walked to sit next to him. Jason smiled happily at your tone of pure joy and pride in his accomplishment.
“Yes,” Jason said as he closed the book and left it on the nightstand, excited to tell you about his progress, “I still have a hard time with some words. But I will fix it before school starts.” He made it clear to you right away, so don't worry.
The truth is that Jason didn't want to bother. Not you, not Alfred, not Bruce. In his mind, that was the way to be a good son. That was what his parents had taught him.
Willis Todd hated it when Jason was in the way. He always ran into him around the house (although that was probably beer-related), and that ended badly for Jason. So Jason learned quickly to stay out of the way so as not to be in the way, not in the sight of his parents, because that was good. His mother never said anything against that arrangement, so he always assumed she agreed.
When his dad left, disappearing without any notice (Jason eventually found out on the streets that he had been arrested and sent to prison), it became difficult for his mom not to see him since she had to do everything. But she was too high to notice half the time. And the other half, when she was aware of him, she wasn't aggressive towards him, she went from hugging him lovingly to crying on her shoulder. As if Catherine were the child and Jason was the father, she was comforting. Then she didn't get up after one dose, and the police came after he called an elderly woman who lived next door to her to ask her to call an ambulance. Then they put him in a couple of foster homes. But no one paid much attention to him, and it wasn't worth putting up with the other children, especially the older ones, who enjoyed tormenting him for being smaller. So he ended up on the street, taking care of himself. It was more natural for him to depend on himself alone than to let them take care of him.
“Well,” you said, settling next to him against the headboard, “but there's no need for that. That's why you're going to school — to learn,” you explained as you ran your hand through his curls. “It's okay if you don't know everything before that.”
“But I don't want to be behind the rest of my classmates, they surely already know how to read very well,” he explained regretfully, somewhat embarrassed.
Only once had his parents been called to the school he had gone to in Park Row. The teacher meant well, for sure. But telling her father that Jason seemed to need a little more help than usual with his reading and that it would be a good idea to move him to a school with a special program for kids like him only made her father see it. And that was never something good. He didn't want you to feel upset with him for that, either. 
“It doesn't matter what other children know or don't know, Jason,” you assured him lovingly. “It matters that you learn without fear of not knowing. It's not a bad thing to not know how to do something that's hard for you to do, sometimes,” you tried to explain, and the boy nodded slowly, processing the information you had given him.
Jason thought for a moment, absorbing what you said, but he was not sure how to respond in a way that would make you happy but not be a nuisance to your daily life. But you didn't let him get to a question because you asked him one in return.
“Jason, my dear,” you called, breaking the boy from his thoughts, who looked at you with big, blue eyes. So precious your baby was. “I have a very important question for you, and I need you to answer me honestly,” you asked him seriously, to which the boy adjusted himself with a worried frown to face you more.
It reminded you of Bruce, who made the same gestures when you talked to him seriously.
Your heart tightened with pride at how your two boys, Dick and Jason, were beginning to imitate Bruce so soon after meeting him. Despite all of his doubts, he was someone the kids immediately looked to as an example. You reminded him repeatedly, despite his complaints, because he needed to be reminded that being Batman wasn't the only way he could make a difference to people. He did it every day in his home, with your children, and with you.
“Yes, Mrs. Wayne - Sorry, y/n,” he corrected himself quickly, but you thought nothing of it despite the way he cringed in place at his own mistake.
“Jay, do you like being here with me, with Bruce, and with Alfred? Are you happy being part of this family?” you asked a little fearfully, sounding as soft as possible so that it didn't feel like an interrogation.
Jason was stunned. His blue eyes looked at you in confusion: Why would you ask such a question? Of course, he was happy, Jason had everything he could need to survive and the company of you and Bruce. Why would you think he wasn't happy with you?
You saw the confusion painted on his face the moment you asked, so you decided to elaborate a little more on the situation.
“You see, Bruce and I have noticed that you don't seem to be around the house much even though you're here. You even get up to have breakfast alone. It seems like you are hiding from us, Jay. Which is why Bruce and I are worried” you began to explain in a soft tone, “Did something happen? Is there something bothering you?
“No, there's nothing that bothers me,” Jason assured quickly, so worried about the situation. “I just don't want to be in the middle,” the boy explained, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Which made your heart break, and you wondered why he would believe that.
Would there have been any comments from you or Bruce?
Or something you guys did that gave Jason that impression?
Whatever it was, it needed a solution because it couldn't be further from the truth. Personally, you had missed having a child in the house, and so had Bruce, despite his attempt to pretend that Dick's departure hadn't bothered him.
Your husband and eldest son had a very ugly fight before he went to live in the Teen Titans Tower. He had arranged for you and Alfred to serve as intermediates. But that didn't change your oldest son's decision to move out of the house. A lot of his stuff was still at Wayne Manor, but he wasn't, which made it a little depressing for you.
“Why do you think you're in the middle?” you asked sadly.
“Well, I know it bothers adults when kids are all over them needing things and asking questions. So I try not to be too intense with you because I am very grateful because now I am part of the family.” Jason shrugged as he looked at his hands, trying to remove his cuticles. A nervous habit that you had noticed.
Unsure of what to do, you played it safe and hugged Jason over the shoulder with one arm, holding him close to you, while with your other free hand, you stopped the suggestion of pinching your cuticles by taking his hand and caressing his plasma instead.
You thought for a moment about how you could handle the whole situation without the need to abruptly destroy the belief system and give it a crisis. You also didn't want all of this to sound like a reprimand for believing something that couldn't be further from the truth, because it wasn't his fault. But you weren't going to leave things like that.
“You know, Jay. Bruce and I are not like other adults," you started feeling a little like Mean Girls' mom and her 'I'm not a regular mom, I'm a cool mom', which made you want to roll your eyes, but you kept going. “We love having you around. Dick got us used to that, you know, so we’d love for you to get in the middle as much as you like Jay,” you explained, and the boy looked at you with wide eyes, a gleam of hope in them.
“Really?” he asked doubtfully.
“Really serious,” you assured him with a smile, which Jason couldn’t help but quickly spread. “Besides, you can always know without a doubt that as long as you are in the middle of your father and mine, you will never have to worry about anything. Because you will be safe and sound,” you assured him gently, moving a hair from his forehead and then kissing the area lovingly.
“I like that,” Jason whispered, as if the thought had escaped him, looking at you with stars in his eyes. He really liked that idea.
Jason ran down the stairs while you calmly entered the house with bags of clothes in hand. Alfred was behind you with more bags and resigned to the fact that you had once again bought extra clothes for the whole family. Yes, you also bought him a couple of new sweaters, the kind he liked, but he insisted they were too expensive.
You didn't finish passing through the living room towards the stairs when Jason ran up and hugged your waist without thinking twice. Now, at thirteen years old, it would probably be time for you to start asking him to take care of the force with which he threw himself into his arms whenever he saw you. But the truth is that you didn't want him to. If you two fell, so be it, but you would never ask Jason to walk away. Not after what it was like the first time your son was in the house.
“Hello, sweet boy,” you said to Jason while hugging as best you could with the bags in your arms. “I got you another one of those hoodies that you said you liked. I got it in red, I thought that color would look good on you”.
Jason didn't stop hugging your waist as the three of you went upstairs to leave the bags so he could try on what you had bought him. Nor when, after trying everything on and being satisfied with his new clothes, you went back downstairs to have tea and eat cookies in the library. Not even when the two of them left there to greet Bruce when he arrived late from the Wayne Enterprise, and he received the same hug, but with more balance than you. Dick arrived, and Jason was still clinging to your waist until all sat down to eat dinner.
“Was I like that?” Dick asked in a mocking whisper to Alfred.
“Was?” mocked back the butler “Master Dick, you are still exactly like that”
𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @some-lovely-day @simonsbluee @yuki-chan23 @miyakana @myst3batz @otchae @d3m0n8ch1ld @marsenbie @mynameisnotlaura @andieperrie18 @igotmessymind @amarawayne @kodzukenmaaa @mellowdiy @noah-uhhh-what @blarba-girl @dead-sane-stuff @huhuhhuhh @kimmis-stuff @undecided-shipper @poppyalice2001 @lafrone @voodoo-writer @lilvampirina @astrial @maliagurl @kazhaelfuhghi @poppyalice2001 @totallynotme420 @calsjack @igotmessymind @pato-spoiler-27 @urminebutidontwantyou @cluelessteam
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thelostconsultant · 3 months ago
Text
Take what you want
pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
summary: Oscar shows up to surprise you, then drags you into a relationship that's everything but healthy.
warnings: dark!Oscar, toxic relationship
note: This is probably my last F1 fic, so this is my baby. Be gentle with it, please.
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Since Nicole and your mom had been best friends since childhood, she was almost like your aunt, just as your mother was in the same position for her children. This meant barbeque parties on the weekends, big, chaotic Christmas and New Year celebrations, and other freetime activities that lately involved watch parties when Oscar’s race took place at a reasonable time. It was fun, really, like having a big extended family you could always rely on. 
You and Oscar were close in age, and while you were closer friends with his sister, Hattie, the two of you also got along pretty well. He tried to keep in touch despite his chaotic schedule, keeping up a channel for the both of you to vent, because you had both promised to keep whatever you discussed between yourselves. There were things he needed to discuss with someone, sometimes specifically with a woman, and he couldn’t trust his sisters to keep it to themselves. And if one of his sisters told the others, his mom would find out in less than five minutes too. 
Earlier this year he had broken up with his girlfriend, a girl whose existence was kept a secret even in front of his family despite the relationship lasting for a few months, and it hit him really hard when she announced that she was breaking things off. It took long hours of conversations over the phone, and a bunch of messages to help him move on. But then he got better, and he disappeared as the season continued, and you didn’t really notice, because you were just about to finish your studies at university. 
These days you just sent each other memes every now and then, only exchanging a few sentences before disappearing from each other’s lives again. So, when the idea for a graduation party came up, you didn’t even think about inviting him. He lived on the other side of the world, so even if he wasn’t racing that weekend, there was no way he would come. Knowing he thought you weren’t good enough friends anymore for you to consider inviting him felt like a stab in the heart. You should have sent him a message at least, just out of courtesy. 
Today you were planning to avert your thoughts from the conversation that had been plaguing your days, hoping that focusing on something else could make you feel free again. You still had a few weeks until you started your first full time job, so you wanted to enjoy your free time, so when your mom mentioned some new, fancy restaurant that she wanted to try out and secretly reserved a table to months ago, you couldn’t say no. Your dad didn’t like these places, but you did, so you put on an elegant black jumpsuit and did your hair and makeup with an excited smile on your face. 
Even though you offered to pick her up in your old home, she chose to meet you at the restaurant since she had to take care of something first and there was a chance she would be late. Wouldn’t want to lose our table, she said. So, you went there telling the host her name when he asked you if you had a reservation for the evening. There was a strange gleam in his eyes when he heard the name, but it disappeared as quickly as it showed up, that’s why you weren’t really sure if it was really there in the first place. He took you to your table, but when he pointed at the one, you saw someone already sitting there, a man whose face you couldn’t see. 
Hesitantly, but you walked over to the empty chair across from him, your heart pounding in your chest. But when you saw his face, your breath caught in your throat. “Oscar? What–?” you asked, so confused that you weren’t even sure what to ask. 
He flashed a small smile at you, then stood up and rushed over to help you with your chair. While your eyes followed his every move as you waited for an explanation, he remained silent even after taking his seat again. It was only after a waiter came over and poured you both a glass of wine before taking your orders that he leaned back in his chair and truly looked at you. “It didn’t feel good when you said you couldn’t count on me. We had a break at the time, I could have flown here,” he said with his usual flat tone, although you could see the emotions in his eyes. 
After all those years, you knew it meant he was hurt, and it made you feel like shit. “It would have been a waste of time to fly here for one night,” you said quietly as you reached for your glass. 
He leaned forward and rested his forearm on the middle of the table, his palm open as an invitation for you to take his hand. For a few seconds your gaze shifted back and forth between his hand and his face, but then you decided not to play along. There was a voice in the back of your mind telling you not to fall for this trap–because you had a feeling it was some sort of a trap. It was just so strange that he hadn’t contacted you or asked about you for weeks, and then all of a sudden he just showed up here. Maybe your mothers conspired again. 
With a sigh, Oscar pulled back his hand and wrapped his fingers around his glass instead. “I don’t understand you,” he noted, and his eyes never left your face as he spoke. “I thought we were friends, yet you didn’t tell me about your graduation party and apparently you seriously think I wouldn’t want to be here to celebrate with you.”
“Your life is so different now, attending some stupid party back home is probably not all that exciting,” you finally admitted after a break, immediately feeling guilty when you noticed his reaction. It was barely there, but you knew how to see and decode even the smallest changes in his expression. “Look, this place is really nice, and I'm glad to see you, but why are we here?” you asked him cautiously.
He took a deep breath as he finally tore his gaze away from you. “I just wanted to see you. When Hattie told me how awesome your party was, I felt left out, and then I realized I didn't even think of asking you how things went at university, even though I knew this was your last semester,” he confessed with a heavy sigh. 
“It's okay, you have more important things to think about,” you assured him, even though you did feel a little bad when he forgot to ask about your life when you talked. 
Oscar looked back at you, meeting your gaze again. There was something, maybe guilt that poisoned his usually calm eyes. “Is that really where we got to over the last few years? I don't want you to think you're not important, and I don't want to be an outsider when it comes to your life.”
You wanted to be the smart one, you wanted to be better than this, but the thought that had been on your mind for a long time now inevitably slipped out. This was the sour truth, the only thing that kept returning to you every time you happened to talk.
“I'm the outsider when it comes to your life, Oscar, and I'll always be. Maybe you'll know about what's going on with me, but you barely tell me anything important, and I highly doubt this will change in the future. Your secret girlfriend was pretty much the only thing you told me honestly, everything else was just some sort of inconvenience that bothered you,” you blurted out.
A grimace was the only reaction while he listened to you, and maybe, if you weren't imagining things, his hands gripped the glass a little tighter now. That was something you didn't like about Oscar, the way he could keep his cool even when normal people would be already making a scene. But here he was, sitting there in silence as he carefully tasted your words.
The waiter returned with your orders, and his eyes moved back and forth between you for a second, probably sensing the tension between the two of you. He placed the plates in front of you with an apologetic smile, then scurried away, giving you some privacy. The moment you were left alone, your friend leaned forward and licked his lips as his eyes burned a hole into your head.
“My mum mentioned that you're going to start your new job in a few weeks,” he began, waiting for you to confirm it, which you did with a nod. “Tell them you're not going. Tell them you can't go, then come to Monaco with me. You’re right, maybe I did keep you away from my life lately, so let me change that.”
Your first reaction was to laugh and shake your head as you reached for your glass and took a sip of your wine. With his usual poker face, Oscar slightly raised an eyebrow, as if asking what was so funny about this. What? Well, the whole thing, you didn’t even understand how he could think it could work. “I have absolutely no idea how you came up with this, but as nice as it sounds, my answer is no. I want that job, and when I hinted at not being such good friends anymore, I meant more phone calls and messages, not trips together,” you explained.
A long sigh left him as he shook his head. “Why do you have to be so stubborn? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you away, let me fix it,” he tried.
Looking down at your delicious-looking meal, you had to realize that you weren’t even hungry anymore. What would be the point in forcing food down your throat when you wanted to throw up? So, you pushed your chair back and stood up, not missing the questioning look he sent your way as you grabbed your bag. “I have a feeling we would spend the rest of the evening arguing, and I don’t feel like doing that, because I still consider you a friend, so thank you for everything, but I’ll just go home now. Have a nice evening.”
When you tried to walk past him, he reached out and caught your wrist to stop you. “Don’t do this,” he said calmly, but you pulled your arm out of his grasp. When he realized you were serious about leaving, he let out a groan, then stood up and let his lips crash into yours in a kiss that knocked every coherent thought out of your head. He only pulled away long enough to breathe, resting his forehead against yours as his eyes were locked with yours. “I wanted to wait with this, but you didn’t leave me a choice,” he informed you, the hint of a smile visible on his lips.
The fact Oscar, the very guy who’s been incredibly secretive when it came to his private life, kissed you in front of all these people truly confused you. And he kissed you. He had never shown any sign of seeing you as something other than a friend he grew up with. Yet here you were, his palm resting on your cheek, thumb gently rubbing your soft skin as he waited for your reaction. But you were still speechless, you had no idea what to say. Not until you suddenly remembered an important little detail.
“I’m just about to go on a first date with this really nice guy I met a few days ago, I can’t do this to him,” you told him softly, your fingers curling around his hand to pull it away from your face.
He scoffed, looking anything but pleased with your reaction. “You haven’t even been on a first date with him. Come on, let tonight be our first date. I just don’t want you to say no, then realize you should have agreed when it’s too late.”
Gulping, you thought about his words. And if it didn’t work? If you went on a date, and it would be disastrous, and the two of you couldn’t even talk to each other anymore? “I’d rather keep you as a friend and not risk losing what we have,” you told him after some thinking.
Long seconds passed with his eyes fixed on you, the fact the gears were rapidly turning in his head as he thought being quite obvious. Shaking his head in the end, he picked up his phone and took your hand, dragging you with him as he quickly paid for the untouched dinner then headed to the exit. Your mind was full of question marks, you had absolutely no idea what he was planning, but you didn’t want to make a scene. You were taken to a car that parked nearby, and he opened the door for you so you could get in, but you hesitated.
“Come on, get in,” he said, his voice stern and making it sound like an order. You had never heard him speak to you like that, and it made you worried that maybe there was a side of him that you never had the chance to meet. And if he was like that, you didn’t even want to meet him. You’d rather keep the sweet guy imagine in your head. “Please, just get in. I’ll take you home,” he tried again, his voice hitting a gentler tone this time.
“You know, tonight was actually pretty good for something,” you began, earning a surprised look from him. “You changed, Oscar, and I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, after all it’s only natural for our personalities to change over time, but I don’t really recognize you anymore.”
When you pried his hand off you, he looked at you with the same emotionless face, and this time even his eyes remained neutral. You had absolutely no idea what was going through his head, but then he shut the door he had been leaning on, then walked to the other side of the car. “Yeah, well, you changed too,” he told you before getting in and starting the engine and driving off.
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Following the disastrous dinner attempt you sent your mother a message to tell her you would jump in the next day to discuss a few things. All she wrote back was Oscar’s name with a question mark, and you sent her an angry emoji in response. You were a little mad at your mother for not giving you the heads up, for putting you into the position of meeting him in a restaurant full of people after all that time, but deep down you knew she meant well. Right now, you just wanted to tell her how badly things went and ask her not to do this again in the future.
The two of you were sitting in the dining room, drinking coffee and eating some cookies she made that morning, and you didn’t even know where to begin. But then you let out a sigh and said, “It wasn’t fun, mom. I was expecting to see you, and then he was there, and our conversations had been really awkward lately, so yeah, you can imagine how happy that chat was.”
She reached out to wrap his fingers around your forearm in a supportive way. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. When he called me and said he was here, and that he wanted to surprise you, I thought you would be glad to see him. What happened between you? You used to be such good friends,” she asked, sincerely confused.
Without going into details and accidentally spilling something you weren’t supposed to talk about, you tried to explain her how you both changed over the years, and how you were sure his life was now so much different than yours that maybe meeting him like once a year at a family event was more than enough. It hurt you, sure, because you still cared about him, but maybe going no contact would be the best decision to make at this point.
Before your mother could say anything, you heard your dad move behind you in the kitchen. “So much for your plans,” he told your mom with a short laugh as he picked out a bottle of beer from the fridge. You saw your mother shoot a pointed look at him, to which he responded with a shrug. “I’m just saying.”
And with that, he returned to the living room to watch some match, leaving you alone again. You raised an eyebrow in question, now pretty interested in what kind of plan he was talking about. She tried to keep silent and change the topic, but you warned her not to do that, so she took a deep breath and began to explain it. “When we found out I’m pregnant with a girl, Nicole and I began to talk about how nice it would be if you and Oscar got together one day, and when we saw how well you got along, it became kind of an inside joke. It was just a thought, a fantasy, not some super-secret plan,” she said.
It was… Well, it wasn’t shocking. You had always felt like they were trying to make sure the two of you could spend a lot of time together, Nicole even took you on one or two trips when she went to visit Oscar in England, but you always thought they were doing this because your relationship with his sisters was happening naturally, while the two of you sometimes needed a little nudge.
Since you didn’t feel like talking about this anymore, the two of you began to discuss the plans for your father’s upcoming birthday party. You didn’t want something extravagant, just a casual barbeque party with family, and friends, and maybe a few of his work friends, after all he had been clear about his wish for something that let him wear shorts and his favorite t-shirt with a pair of thongs. Maybe it could take place in the evening, so he could go on a fishing trip the day before and only get home early afternoon on his birthday. 
You both heard the doorbell ring, but your dad told you he would see who it is, so you continued your conversation, believing the guest was one of your father’s friends anyway. You couldn’t be more wrong, because he walked into the kitchen and cleared his throat to get your attention, announcing your guest who happened to be none other than Oscar. He flashed a small smile at your mother as he walked over to give her a hug, then he turned to you with a more serious look.
“The plane if waiting for us,” he stated.
Your parents exchanged a confused look, then your mother looked back and forth between the two of you. You had no idea what he was talking about either, so you watched him a raised eyebrow. “Us?” you asked, to which he responded with a nod. Suddenly you remembered the night before, his idea to make you fly to Monaco with him and spend some time with him. “I already told you, I’m not going anywhere,” you told him.
But Oscar seemed completely unimpressed by your resistance. “Can we talk somewhere private?”
You looked out the window, thinking about suggesting the backyard, but something told you your parents would be listening closely. And you weren’t even sure if you wanted to talk to him, but then you saw a fleeting expression on his face that was begging you to agree. “All right,” you said with a sigh, then signaled him to follow you.
The two of you went upstairs to your room, and once you closed the door, Oscar took a deep breath. “I’m only asking for a few months from your life. Just until the end of the season,” he said, his voice completely flat and steady.
“Which is in December, if I remember correctly. That’s pretty far away.”
He reached out to swipe a stray lock of hair out of your face. “Come on, what’s keeping you here? I’m offering you the chance to travel around the world and attend the races with me.” It sounded nice and all, but you didn’t want to leave, not now. “Your job, right?” he asked, apparently knowing perfectly well what was going through your mind. “Well, your boss is apparently a huge F1 fan, and he could be consoled with some signed merch. He even said they’ll try to find you a position when you return. So yeah, you’re free now.”
There were so many emotions running through you that you didn’t even know how to react at first, but then you decided to slap him hard. He put a hand on his cheek, and you didn’t miss the hint of a smile on his face as he watched you. A shiver ran down your spine at the sight. When did he become like this? The guy standing in front of you, with all the manipulations and plans he was ready to force on you, didn’t remind you of the kind person you used to know.
It was him who broke the heavy silence. “Come on, don’t make a scene. Just get in the car so we can go to your place where you pack a suitcase before we finally go to the airport,” he told you, his voice carrying the kind of authority that almost made you do as he said. But he noticed that you were still not willing to agree to the trip, so he cupped your face and leaned down to kiss you, this time being surprisingly gentle. “Just be a good girl for me, okay?” he whispered against your lips.
This was becoming too much for you, and your emotions were running high, causing you to start sobbing with tears running down your cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumbs, even flashing a sweet smile at you. “Why are you doing this?” you asked quietly.
Oscar placed a soft kiss on your forehead before answering. “Because I love you, baby, and I only want the best for you,” he said, somehow making you believe that everything he said was true.
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About a month later, you were getting more and more used to your new, temporary lifestyle, even if sometimes it felt like living in a golden cage. Because Oscar wanted to control almost every aspect of your life. He took you shopping so you would wear clothes he approved of, he asked you to join him when he had to do his regular workouts, he picked out what to eat, and you didn’t really have a say when he met his friends from F1 either.
“Their girlfriends will be there, you will have company, baby,” he always said, successfully convincing you to go with him.
Even if you managed to get lost in conversations and start to feel good in your new friend circle, you could always feel his eyes on you, especially when you left the group to bring yourself another drink. Sometimes when a guy decided to try and pick you up, he showed up and pulled you into a messy kiss without a warning to send a message to whoever tried to make a move on you. Every time you asked him why he didn’t trust you, he said he just felt like kissing you, making it seem like it wasn’t related to the guy. But you noticed the pattern. He was possessive, and he didn’t like the idea of your attention ever turning to another man.
There were moments when you couldn’t take it anymore, when you locked yourself in the bathroom and cried for a while, hoping he wouldn’t be looking for you until you pulled yourself together. Moments like this you knew leaving him was the right thing to do, but there were two obstacles.
One, the flight ticket back to Australia was quite pricey, and even though you had savings to use, some money was still missing. Of course, you could have asked your mom to send you the missing amount, but then she would ask why when Oscar was paying for everything, and maybe she would tell Nicole that something was wrong, who would immediately try to contact his son to scold him, and so he would know you’re planning to do something he wouldn’t like.
Two, he always managed to shift your focus back on him. “I love you so much, you know that? It would break me if you ever left me,” he said every time he could sense something was off about you. And you, being the idiot you were, believed him and even felt bad for him. How could you leave when he loved you so much? It would have been cruel; he didn’t deserve to be left heartbroken. Sure, he was a little controlling sometimes, but maybe he was like that because he couldn’t control everything on the track, and he was frustrated when a race didn’t end the way he wanted.
For some reason his fans loved you. All they saw were the photos he carefully chose every time he shared them, and all they heard were short mentions of you in interviews or videos his team posted. And these were all sweet and cute, giving people the illusion that this was the perfect relationship. There were no signs of your struggles, no one knew what you had to go through next to him. Because every time you went somewhere public, you put on your brightest smile and acted like you were madly in love with him.
Even when you weren’t.
“Why aren’t you sleeping, hm?” he asked you softly when you rested your chin on his chest and looked at him.
His hand was drawing circles into your back to soothe you, but it wasn’t enough to calm your racing thoughts. You let out a troubled sigh and thought about how to say what you wanted to get off your chest for days now. It was the weekend of the US GP, but even though the end of the season was close, you didn’t feel like sticking around any longer. You’d been gathering your confidence and strength to tell him what was on your mind, you were getting yourself ready to tell him it was over, that you wanted absolutely nothing from him, but you just never knew how to say it.
In the end, after a minute or two of complete silence, you finally got yourself to speak up. “I want to go home. To Australia, not to Monaco, before you say,” you clarified.
Oscar drew in a sharp breath, his eyes fixed on you the whole time. “What’s back home that you miss so much? But fine, I guess we can travel there after the Brazilian GP,” he said, making it sound like he was doing a huge favor.
“Why do I have a feeling that you simply don’t want to understand what I’m saying? I want to go home. Alone. For good. I hope I don’t need to literally spell it out for you,” you said as you sat up, unable to keep the venom dripping from your voice.
He watched you in silence for a while, his eyes giving away that he was displeased with your sudden resistance, but you couldn’t care less. You finally had the strength to speak up, you weren’t about to let this chance slip away. So, you just sat there and waited, hoping he would yield and let you go, even if you had your doubts about the chances of this result.
Just as expected, he also sat up and curled his fingers around your throat, his thumb putting some pressure on your windpipe. He didn’t want to hurt you, he just wanted to make it clear he could hurt you if you gave him a reason for that. “I thought you were my good girl,” he began, his voice quiet but threatening. “And now this is what I have to hear? That you want to leave me? I give you everything you want, baby, why would you leave? Come on, you’re smarter than this.”
Your heart was about to jump out from your ribcage as you listened to him, which made it impossible to speak up without your voice breaking. He was trying to manipulate you again, using the delicately balanced mixture of a love confession and a threat to convince you to stay with him. Every time he sensed you wanted to leave, he pulled this sickeningly sweet voice, using it as if it was a siren’s song to keep you chained to him.
“Let’s just go back to sleep. You’re tired, I’m sure you will see clearer in the morning,” he said as he placed a kiss on your lips, then pulled you back with him as he lied down again.
This was the moment you knew there was no escape, and he wouldn’t let you leave even after the end of the season as you had agreed in the beginning. You couldn’t stop the sobs that wanted to emerge, and soon you heard Oscar’s attempt to soothe you, talking to you quietly and softly as if you were an upset child. “I love you,” and “It would break me if you left,” and “We are so perfect together.” It was truly sickening, but a very, very tiny part of you still wanted to believe him.
Maybe this time things will be better.
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yourmidnightlover · 5 months ago
Text
the story
pairing: mob!bucky barnes x reader
w/c: 3.5k+
summary: the weeks following bucky ordering that steve be your bodyguard, followed by an insightful night at a gala with your beloved husband.
warnings: mention of the incident with john (groping), slight threats of violence, mention of fear, lip on lip action (the upstairs ones), if i've missed anything please let me know!!
a/n: hiii! the third installment of my forever? series! i didn't even intend for this to be more than one part, but you guys have inspired me to write more for it! my writing schedule is a bit off since i recently started a new job, but i'll try to be a bit consistent with it. i hope you guys enjoy this next part, more to come!
part 2 -> control
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the first few weeks with steve as a bodyguard wasn’t too bad. he was actually kinda funny in a grandpa kinda way, and he was an amazing listener. you had bounced a few ideas for your book off of him and he seemed to be very intrigued by some of the plot points you had planned. he even promised to be one of the first customers, right behind bucky (which you may have rolled your eyes at), of course, as long as he was promised a signed copy.
but, at the two month mark you began to miss your independence. of course, the chef bucky had hired was amazing and had years of experience in italian cuisine, but sometimes a girl just wanted some greasy smash burger to chow down on. most nights you ate alone with steve until bucky walked through the front door. 
he always seemed beaten down and tired, as though work was more straining than usual. he would shrug his jacket off, place it on the hook by the door, then his shoes on the rack, and walk upstairs to shower before coming downstairs to eat as you and steve were finishing your plates. you tried your best to start conversation, to be the best company you could but eventually the silence always grew awkward and steve would usher you to go upstairs to your room with a pressed smile. 
after two months of not really needing to show you off i any way, there was an important gala for him to attend. of course, that means that you were to be his beloved arm candy for the night. 
“buck sent me the address for a local boutique that he thinks would be right up your alley,” steve read from his phone as you took a stroll in the garden that was full of beautiful colors. “the appointment is at 3:45, so we have plenty of time to get ready and head there too. oh and he says you should get something in that one shade of green… i’m assuming you know what that is?” his brows raise in confusion, as your mirror his in a stunned expression. 
“surprisingly, i do know what he means for once.” about six weeks before the wedding, you had spent an all nighter with him amidst all of the chaotic planning. 
“accent colors are super important! right now, all we have is an off white color, and while it’s a good color, i don’t want my wedding to wash everyone out that much,” you shoved his side as you sprawled your binders out on the coffee table. 
“i say… green,” he says after pondering for a minute. 
“green… like tree green?” you chuckled at the notion. 
“i mean the green that’s light yet earthy, not too dark but not scream-in-your-face bright. it’s beautiful. plus, i think you’d look stunning in it,” he shrugs casually as if he hadn’t described a mundane color in such an alluring way.
“so a sage green?” 
“maybe more on the jade green side,” he tried to hide a smile as his thumb began to mindly trace nonsense on your thigh. 
there was such elegance in the way he described the simple color, as if saying light green wouldn’t have sufficed. clearly, there was a significance to the mundane shade that he felt the need to recommend it. 
but you knew not to ask anything further to pry, doubting his readiness to comply so easily so early in your relationship. while it was during the happiest days of your relationship, you still knew he held you at arms length. 
at the appointment, you had found several dresses in the perfect color, but only one stood out to you after trying them on. steve was also a good guide in ensuring you were choosing the right one, although you’re sure he would just say every dress looked good regardless. 
growing up, you’d read about a love that was so encapsulating that one would rather face death than be without their lover. you’d yearned for that kind of love. the kind of love that was consuming and irreversible. the kind of love where your partner wouldn’t love you in spite of your flaws, but because of them. 
and now you were married to a man who didn’t seem to feel an ounce of that towards you. sure, the months leading up to your wedding made it seem otherwise. it made you hopeful that he could maybe grow to love you, as you could grow to love him. 
because truthfully, it was hard to see many flaws in the man, other than those that were rumored in the tabloids. you’d read or heard of his anger issues and his lack of patience but abundance of irritability. yet all you’d observed is his laughter, his diligence and compassion. 
it was definitely confusing to want to believe these two contradicting tales of composure, but ultimately seeing is believing. you’d decided to believe whatever he showed you, what was right in front of his face rather than believe whatever was whispered in your ear. besides, if something was worth believing it should be said with their full chest rather than in such a low tone. 
-
“almost ready?” bucky’s low voice rang through the door as you were doing finishing touches on your hair, making sure you looked as presentable as possible. 
“i just have to put the dress on, and i’ll be ready to go!” you replied, unzipping the bag that the dress came in, even though you suggested that doing so was overkill.
“let me know if you need any help.” you heard a thud from the other side that suggested that he was leaning against the door, waiting to hear if you did happen to need any assistance. 
you replied in silence, just stepping into the dress and lifting the straps over your shoulders. it was such a beautifully made gown, truly. it hugged you in the most flattering places, accentuating just the right amount without flaunting too much. the material felt like a warm hug from a lifelong friend, you almost never wanted to take it off. 
the only downside was the damn zipper. it was a bit rough to pull over your hips alone, but once you reached your mid back it seemed to reach a snagging stop. you twisted your arms every way possible, trying to avoid the totally cliche scene of calling him in to zip you up. 
alas, the universe had other plans for you. although, how much could you complain when that would mean his rough, yet gentle hands would be against your skin…
“...bucky?” your voice meekly called out, trying to interrupt your own thoughts from spiralling down the path you wanted them to so bad. 
“yea?” his voice piped up, seeming to jump an octave or two in the process. maybe you jst startled him. 
“could you maybe help me zip this thing up?” you became quiet before the twisting of your doorknob broke the silence. “my arms can’t quite contort the way they need to in order to zip this all the way…” you refused to meet his eyes as he trailed inside the room. 
the first sign of his presence was his hands grasping your shoulders, lightly tracing down your arms. then he leaned down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, more affectionate than he’d been the entire duration of your marriage without it being prompted. 
“you look beautiful,” he pressed another kiss to your other shoulder before letting his hands fall to a respectable place on your waist, stepping back to seemingly find where the zipper got stuck. “but what’s new, right?”
you chuckled at the compliment. 
“what’ve you been doing recently?” you asked meekly. “i haven’t seen you much at all since steve started his new gig as my babysitter.”
he sighed, stopping his antics to clarify what he felt he needed to. “he’s not a babysitter. he’s my best friend, and the only person i trust to look after the woman that i-the woman that i married, okay?” you felt his deep breathing on your neck before he continued, “i don’t know where john is yet. john is notorious for taking whatever he thinks is his and that night he made it very clear what he believed.” he turned you around to face him, the dress’ zipper be damned. “if anything happens to you… just the thought keeps me up at night. i need you to understand,” his voice was desperate, pleading almost. 
you understood what he was saying. at least, you were pretty sure you did. men in positions of power like bucky typically saw the people around them as pawns. part of you thinks that he’s saying all of this as the controlling, possessive boss man bucky. and that’s the large part of you. but the small part of you, the part of you that still believes in that fairytale love you used to read about, believes that maybe he’s saying all of this because he does feel something for you… something real. 
but that part of you is like… 15 percent. maybe 20…
“i understand,” you nodded, meeting his eyes and seeing desperation, fear. seeing fear radiating from a man that projects a version of himself that’s fearless is a scary thing. 
“good,” he nodded, his eye contact faltering to the dress that clung to your body. “you look indescribable, i’m a lucky man to call you mine.” once again, he grasped your shoulders to turn you around.
this time, he promptly found the zipper, his metal hand tracing nonsensical patterns on your shoulder as he zipped the dress with his flesh one. 
“all done,” he pressed a lingering kiss to your right shoulder. “my beautiful bride.” you wanted to believe him. 
“thank you,” you took a deep breath as you turned to face him. “so, tonight… what should i be expecting?” “well, there are a few people i’ll introduce you to, and a few i have to talk to. but i’ll be with you the whole time,” he pressed his hands into his pockets. “i scheduled a car to take us, and we have about 10 minutes before it should get here.”
“so we’ll be playing the roles of loving wife and doting husband?” you nudged his shoulder before you went to grab your shoes. 
“playing? this is all real, sweetheart,” he took the shoes from your hands, promptly dropping to his knees. 
“what are you-”
“i’m putting your shoes on, my love.” you chuckled before he guided your hand to his shoulder. “gonna want to hold on.” he picked up one of your legs by your calf, grabbing the correct shoe before slowly placing your foot inside and doing the same for your other shoe.
meanwhile, you were stuck staring down at him like a lovesick idiot. this behemoth of a man was beneath you treating you like a princess by putting your heels on for you. what the hell kind of alternate universe have you entered and how can you never leave?
“well, aren’t you a romantic?” you cleared your throat as he remained on his knees, a sight you could get used to. 
“don’t let the news spread around town,” he chuckled as he let your remaining foot hit the ground but not without pressing a kiss to your ankle. “i can’t have others knowing how enamored i am by you, can we?” “enamored?” you chuckled out. “what a word,” you shook your head as you helped him to his feet. 
“the perfect word.” he trailed his hand to a loose strand of hair, twirling it around his flesh fingers before he sighed, “the car should be here soon. we should head downstairs for it.”
it was a 45 minute ride there. you sat in a respectable silence, this time it wasn’t as awkward as it has been in the past. upon arrival, the door was swiftly opened for you, bucky getting out first and then offering his hand to help you step out. the first thirty minutes of the gala went very similarly. he would introduce you to a new face or say ‘hello’ to a familiar one, wrap his arm snugly around your waist before pressing a kiss to your cheek and move on to the next person. 
for a bunch of folks in banking and finance, everything seemed very high stakes. there seemed to be walls up all around you, from each man and woman you said a brief hello to or were meeting for the first time. everyone had decided to adorn a mask for the night, or maybe the mask was a semi-permanent fixture. maybe they’d worn the mask for so long they forgot how to function without one. you hoped you wouldn’t face the same fate.
to be doomed to fake face for so long that you no longer remember what was once real. you wanted something real, even if what you and bucky had was technically fake when you were in public. something about what happened behind closed doors when nobody was around gave you the illusion that part of it was real. 
“have i told you how ravishing you look tonight?” bucky held you close as you swayed to the soft melody. his metal hand was clutching your waist, his flesh hand holding your own.
“i think in different words, yes,” you both began to laugh at his flattery. “you don’t have to keep doing that, y’know? the compliments and everything… i think people get the idea that this is real by now.”
“you don’t get it, do you?” he shook his head before he moved his vibranium hand to your chin, nudging it up for you to meet his eyes. 
“get what?”
“buck,” steve’s voice interrupted your dance, but that didn’t stop bucky from pulling you taut to his side.
steve leaned in to whisper in his ear, but you were able to tell by his stone cold expression that whatever message that was being relayed to him wasn’t as delightful as the desserts from tonight. 
“when?” you barely registered bucky’s low voice over the music. 
steve went back to whispering in his ear and it wasn’t until he pulled back that you wanted to speak up, “what’s going on?”
bucky looked down to you, and when you looked into his eyes, what you saw was very similar to your earlier conversation with him. this time, however, there seemed to be anger buried beneath the stoic traces of fear. that’s when it clicked.
“did they find him?” his jaw clenched and unclenched.
“you told her about-”
“i told her what she deserves to know,” bucky interrupted steve’s accusatory tone. “you don’t get to question me or the decisions i make, especially not when those decisions are in regards to my wife.”
you weren’t sure if bucky was defending you or himself with the way he jumped on steve’s gears. 
“okay, got it,” steve rse his hands in defense before he nodded. 
“what steve was telling me was in regards to him, yes,” bucky clarified. “but it’s nothing important for you to need to know. you don’t have to worry about it, my love,” he let his flesh hand play with that same strand of hair as earlier as he looked down at you like his prized possession. 
oh yea, you almost forgot. that’s what you are to him. his trophy wife, as much as you hate that phrase. 
“when can we go home?” a shiver ran down your spine. what would john even do if he did get his hands on you? was he actually as bad as bucky made him seem, or was he worse? you gripped bucky’s arm tighter as thoughts raced through your brain. 
“hey,” he turned to face you again, his eyes no longer reflecting anger or fear but tenderness. “if you want to leave, we’ll leave. steve can get the car,” he turned briefly to steve who nodded before walking off, “we can talk on the way home. i can tell how many questions are running through that pretty head of yours right now. but i can assure you,” he cupped your face in his hands, and the contrast between the cold metal and the warm flesh was oddly grounding, “as long as your with me, or steve for that matter, you won’t have anything to worry about. i would do anything it takes to keep you safe.”
you nodded, pressing your lips together in a fine line, maybe a bit of doubt running in your head at the lengths he would go to in order to protect you. would he really go to the lengths necessary? would his hand be forced to do that? 
“how bad would it be if i admitted that i was scared right now?” you couldn’t meet his eyes as you admitted it. 
“it’s not bad at all. in fact, i understand. i just hope that you know that this is why steve is watching out for you now,” he dropped his hands to your shoulders, down your arms to hold your hands. 
“will you-would you be up for staying with me tonight?” you popped the question, almost scared of his answer. “like… like you did that night? i don’t really want to be alone tonight.”
“you don’t have to explain,” he smiled. “of course i’ll stay with you.”
the ride home was similar to the ride there, but this time with your head rested on his chest, his arms wrapped snugly around you. you’re sure he thought you were asleep when he pressed a kiss to your forehead. it also wasn’t beneath you to say you liked when he did it…
so much so that you apparently did fall sleep. when you woke up, it was wrapped in strong arms. you strained your neck to look at the clock beside your bed, the one that read 2:35 am. turning in bed to look at bucky, you realized you’d never seen him so peaceful. his hair had grown out a bit long, evident by the way it laid across his forehead. 
when you moved the few locks of hair from his forehead, he began to stir awake. 
“shhh,” you hummed softly. “it’s just me. sorry i woke you.”
“don’t be sorry,” his raspy voice was alluring this early in the morning, or was it late? “i don’t think i’ve slept this good since… well, since that night.”
“are you a secret cuddler, mr. barnes?” you smiled as he pulled you in a smidge tighter as he replied. 
“and what if i am?” “there are no complaints coming from me,” he pressed yet another kiss to yourforehead, then your cheek, your other cheek, and then you pulled back to look in his eyes again. 
the only light that was peaking through was from the hallway underneath the door, but that didn’t stop you from being able to see the bright smile decorating his face, a rare sight to see. 
“how bad would it be if i admitted that i really wanted to kiss you right now?” his thumb trailed across your bottom lip, gently pulling it down and watching it bounce back into place.
“it’s not bad at all,” you let your eyes find his lips before looking into his eyes once more. 
he made the first move, taking his flesh hand and cupping your face before he softly met your lips with his. every other kiss you’d had with him had been for show, cameras or people around to witness and aww at the romantic antics of the newlyweds. this one wasn’t for show. this was purely authentic. gentle, soft, delicate. for a man like bucky, you figured he wasn’t like this very often. this was a side of him not many other people got the privilege of witnessing. 
he was precise in his movements, every swipe of his tongue and every placement his hand made was deliberate, yet he was so tender. the soft grasp of your hair, the easy glide of his hand that began to hold your waist. it was all so consuming, in the best way possible. in the way that you wanted to drown in his presence. 
when you sweeped one of your legs over his, now perched on his lap, you felt him smile against your lips. 
“you’re astounding,” he breathed into you. “breathtaking,” he rearranged his hips, accidentally brushing his hardon against your center. “shit.”
“sorry,” you smiled against him as you pulled back, resting your forehead against his. 
“nothin’ to apologize for,” he shook his head with a laugh. “i mean, you are my wife an’ all.”
“i know, but,” taking a deep breath, you tried to figure out how to word what you wanted to say to him. you came up with nothing. “i don’ know. it’s different. we haven’t necessarily been the most affectionate since our wedding.”
“i didn’t think you wanted anything more,” his face shone with disbelief. “i didn’t want you to think you were forced to be ‘affectionate’ with me. you didn’t really want to marry me in the first place. i realize that.”
were you not this puppet in his master show? some play thing for him to own and display whenever he pleased? had every story you’d heard about him been nothing but that… just stories? could this story of you and him have a happy ending?
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@mrsnikstan
@cjand10
@mrs-bucky-barnes-73
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@greatenthusiasttidalwave
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aikaterini-drag · 6 months ago
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Movie Night
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Pairing: King Loki x Fem Wife Reader
Summary: Loki and you spend time in your apartment in New York. You want to watch a move but Loki has other ideas.
Warnings: minors don’t interact, explicit sexual content, oral(fem receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, just shameless smut pals.
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It was a well known fact that your husband wasn’t fond of Earth and its occupants. But since you were from Earth, Loki had no choice but to take you there whenever you desired.
Yes, Loki was your husband. Striking and shocking as it was, the infamous yet powerful Norse God was yours.
At first you were so afraid of him. The two of you had met during his chaotic time in New York, amidst aliens and destruction. Your meeting was wild and crazy, and Loki saw you as his enemy. You worked for Stark Industries and tried to stop Loki from destroying the world with the Avengers. Your attempt was pretty pathetic but you had to give it a shot. You couldn't just let someone trash your home without at least trying to intervene.
In the chaos of battle, you got hit by a bullet in the shoulder. Loki could have easily left you, but he didn’t. He took you to Asgard and treated your injuries with their advanced magic and healing concoctions. In a matter of days you were completely healed. All thanks to him. He’d saved you, and that’s when you started seeing parts of him that no one else could.
Loki was a never-ending puzzle, with so many tiny pieces that it seemed impossible to ever see the whole picture. But if there was one thing you had learned about him was his deep craving for affection and care. Beneath the stoic, cold exterior of this God, hid a child seeking love.
You and Loki dated for a year before he insisted on getting married. He was pretty adamant about it, especially after clearing his name and claiming his rightful spot on the throne of Asgard. As the first son, it was his duty, and Thor was more than happy to be the captain of the Asgardian soldiers and play peacemaker with Earth.
So now, you were Queen too. You had responsibilities and daily tasks that sometimes gave you headaches. You were never lonely and Loki always took care of you. But your husband was King, born and bred for the role, when you were just a human who had only ever imagined living in a tiny New York apartment, not glittering kingdoms and palaces.
When you asked Loki for a vacation back home, he agreed. He took you to New York, where you stayed in your old apartment. Loki had bought and completely renovated it. Now, it was an adorable small place with comfy and elegant furniture, a perfect escape from your royal duties.
That night, you chose to stay in and watch a movie while munching on snacks until you were full.
No duties, no attendants or royal meetings.
Just you and your husband.
You had already stocked up on all kinds of chips, chocolate and candy. Loki had just emerged from the shower, wearing a half-open green robe that showed off his muscular chest, still flushed from the heat. He looked even taller and more imposing in your small apartment, his wet raven hair dripping water.
To distract yourself from your lusty thoughts, you went to the living room and lit a candle. You snuggled into the couch, and that’s when Loki strolled in, his musky scent filling the air. He sat down beside you and handed you a glass of wine. Your glasses clinked and you took a few sips of wine and smiled at him, enjoying the rich, fruity taste.
“Good?” He asked.
You grinned. “You have excellent taste.”
“Are you happy?” Loki asked. As much as he grumbled about Midgard, he knew how much you missed your old life. He spoiled you as often as he could.
“Very. Thank you, honey. You are quite possibly the best husband in the whole universe.”
He bent to kiss your neck. “Quite possibly? My dear, I am unequivocally the best. And I can prove it to you.”
You moaned as his lips trailed your neck, dragging your neckline aside to kiss your collarbones. “Loki no.”
“Why not?” He looked up at you like a child who’d been refused his favorite toy.
“You promised we’d watch a movie tonight.”
"I desire to ravish you instead."
You half-laughed. “You ravish me daily.”
“And it appears I am never satisfied. So I crave more.”
“You know, sometimes it’s hard keeping up with your libido,” you muttered as he cupped your breasts over your T-shirt and traced your nipples. “Loki, wait—”
He grumbled and drew back. “You are one merciless woman.”
You kissed his cheek. “I’d like to watch a movie with you. It’s been my dream, being with my boyfriend—”
“Husband,” he corrected.
“Yes, being with my husband and watching a late night movie while eating snacks.”
“I shall indulge you, my wife,” he said, tucking his robe closed and trying to hide his raging erection. He flashed a smile, his white teeth gleaming, and added, “And then,I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.”
You blushed. Loki often said things like that, completely shameless. “You debauched God,” you muttered.
He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “A pleasure, darling.”
Sprawling his long legs, Loki tucked you in his arms, a soft blanket draped over you. You craddled a bowl of chips, snacks, and candy in one arm and the TV remote in the other, browsing movies on Netflix.
“This place is nice, even pretty,” Loki mused as he looked around the renovated apartment. He hadn’t really taken the time to appreciate it before.
“Pretty, huh? I remember you calling it a ‘pathetic hovel’ last time,” you teased, glancing up at him.
“Well… that was a long time ago.”
“So, what do you want to watch tonight?”
He sighed. “Well, if we’re going to waste time with Midgardian entertainment, it might as well be brief.”
“Brief? I guess a movie then.”
“Yes.” He raised an eyebrow. “I have to debauch you after that, remember?”
You nudged him lightly with your elbow. “You know, I think you’re secretly ashamed to enjoy a little human entertainment.”
“No. I’m simply eager to fuck you. That’s one thing I will never lie about.”
“What a rake you are.”
His eyes sparkled with mischief. “If I must suffer through this, let’s get over with it. Please.”
As it turned out, the movie held Loki’s interest for twenty minutes before he started being mischievous.
Honestly, you expected him to start sooner.
He took a chip and pretended to accidentally drop it in your lap. Then, acting all innocent, he “accidentally” tried to catch it, slipping his hand between your thighs. His fingers brushed against your clothed pussy, but retreated when you sent him a firm look.
Loki resumed watching the movie.
A while later, he cuddled you close and “accidentally” dropped a piece of popcorn down your shirt, between your breasts. You barely held back your grin at his ministrations. He retrieved it and you stopped his groping with a gentle slap of your hand.
“You know,” you started, “for the god of mischief, your way of distracting me is pretty lame.”
He smiled and undeterred, opened his robe. “I’m hot.”
Your eyes strayed from the TV screen because good Gods, he’d opened his robe completely, giving you a good view of his glorious cock. Thick, long and fat, it stood at attention. It throbbed, thick veins running from the head to the base. You bit your lips at the bead of moisture at the head. Loki had a magnificent chiseled body, and his cock was like rest of him, Godly. Devine. Perfect.
You rubbed your thighs together, trying to ignore the emptiness inside you. Damn him for using your weakness against you. His green eyes glowed in the dim light, filled with a hunger that promised to have you mewling and begging for his touch.
“Shouldn’t you be watching the movie?” Loki asked, his voice a husky whisper. His cock throbbed from between your bodies, begging for your touch.
You dragged your eyes from his cock and up to his face. “This is not fair.”
“God of mischief.”
In a swift move, he shifted, pushing you against the couch with his body between your legs. You gasped at the feel of him against you. Warm, hard and scented with masculine musk, your husband was irresistible. The movie played in the background, but went completely unnoticed.
He caught your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth. “It’s time for me to have a taste of my Queen. I want my sweet human crying out, her pretty pink pussy clenching around me.”
“Hmm… yes…” you said in between wet kisses. “More, please… Loki…”
With a satisfied hum, he worked on removing your clothes, tugging at your pajamas and almost tearing your underwear. He tossed away both of your clothes away as if they offended him until there was nothing left but your smooth skin exposed to his eyes. Grasping under your knees, he steered them wide apart, and enjoyed the view. Creamy thighs and in between was the most pretty, pink puffy cunt begging for his attention.
“Look at that,” he drawled, his finger running up and down your drenched slit. “I could scent your desire all this time, my naughty little Queen.”
You opened your mouth to speak but moaned when one thick finger pressed inside. He gathered your wetness and pumped slowly, in and out, in and out, while watching you intently. You squirmed, seeking more, but he kept you still. A second finger entered, curling and rubbing that sensitive spot. You fell back, your toes curling. Licking his lips, Loki added a third, stretching you wide for him while his thumb teased your clit.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, watching at where your cunt squeezed his fingers. “So beautiful.”
“Husband, please.” You gripped his forearms. “Want them faster.”
Loki grinned and obliged, thrusting his fingers in a come hither motion. You rocked against them, panting and whining from overload. He kept his other hand on your inner thigh, keeping you open for him. Thrusting, stroking and playing with you, you came in a matter of seconds. Stars flashed in your vision. You were delirious, floating in clouds of bliss.
Loki retreated from your pussy, licking his fingers that were all wet from your juices. Then growing low, he descended upon your mound, his teeth nibbling at the fat pussy lips before flicking his tongue around your clit. Oversensitive, you tried to stop him but couldn’t. Body taut, you threaded your hands through his wet hair, grinding your pussy against his face.
A few more shameless licks and you cried out, shaking, coming apart with long-drawn moans. Loki didn’t stop teasing you, he fucked you with his fingers, moving up to devour your nipples, sucking the buds deep into his warm mouth.
“My pretty Queen possesses the sweetest taste. Can’t have enough of you.”
He claimed your mouth and you moaned at the taste of your essence on his tongue. Your hands traveled along his strong body, caressing his broad shoulders before traveling low to cup his cock. You pumped him, traced the veins and rubbed the leaky head. Loki hummed, pleased as he licked into your mouth.
Pinning your hands above your head, he grabbed his fat cock and slapped it on your pussy lips. He was heavy and hot. You watched as he rubbed the pulsing shaft until it was coated in your juices, teasing you by thrusting the cockhead inside your little slit before drawing back. With a whine, you canted your hips, begging him in a series of whines and murmurs.
He indulged you and finally surged forward, watching as your small opening was forced open by his dick. You both moaned at the sensations and once he was seated to the hilt you needed a few moments to adjust to the invasion. He was big, bigger than a human in every way. You always needed some moments to get used to the incredible fullness and stretch.
Even so, you always fit perfectly together.
“Good?” he asked, breathless and aroused.
“Okay, you can move now.”
Nodding, he pulled back, his veined length frothing with your slick before slamming back in. Having him inside you felt glorious. He did it again, his eyes fixed on your pretty cunt; he drew back till all his cock was out, then pushed deep, until his swollen balls squeezed against your ass.
“Loki,” you whined, not caring how desperate you sounded, “want to touch you.”
He freed your hands and you immediately traced his strong body, trailing your fingers down his neck, chest, nipples and firm ass while he pounded inside you, claiming your very soul. Clutching your waist, he went faster, his mouth devouring your nipples while you clung to his shoulders for dear life and rode higher and higher.
Your orgasm hit you hard and fast and you shut your eyes tightly at how intense it was. Loki followed right after you, delving to the hilt and shooting ropes of warm cum inside you. You felt his release, every pump that flooded your pussy and overflowed, dripping down your the crack of your ass.
With a rumble of satisfaction, he set you to lay on your side, cuddling you from behind, his still hard shaft still within you. He kissed your neck, your shoulder, then suckled your nipples and cupped your breasts in his hands. You relaxed into him, your body lax and spent.
“We should watch the rest of the movie now,” he said in an absolutely serious tone.
You half-laughed. “We missed most of it.”
He kissed your head with a grin. “We can watch it again.”
“Oh, now you don’t mind?”
“I think I’m going to relish watching as many movies as you want, darling.”
To prove his point, he gave a shallow thrust—he was still hard and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
“That sounds like a threat, husband,” you moaned when he draped your leg over his thigh. “Loki—”
He rubbed the place where you were joined. “I want to play with my Queen’s pussy while we watch the movie.”
You wiggled but he kept you lodged to him. “Loki this is too much.”
He silenced you with a kiss and drew tight circles over your clit. You felt warm magic permeating your pussy and knew that he was healing you. You no longer felt so oversensitive and the stretch of his cock was pleasing, welcoming.
“There,” he dragged his tongue across your neck. “I always take care of my wife.” He kissed your forehead and added, “Now put the movie from the start.”
“Lo—” you didn’t manage to let out another word and whined when he leaned down to kiss around your flushed nipples.
“Loki—”
“The movie, darling,” he said and gently thrust his cock, reminding you that he remained rock hard inside you.
Loki moved from behind you, his hands, mouth and delicious length of him inside you teasing you to another orgasm. True to his word, he ended up fucking you until the credits rolled and you had no strength to do anything else but melt sweetly into his arms and enjoy his ministrations.
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partywithoutsmiling · 7 months ago
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Another AU that has been knocking around my mind for a while XD I call it Moonlit AU
It can be summed as such: Pop Trolls are pretty wild bunch when it comes to looks, varying in colours, flocking/fur patterns, glitter, freckles, hair, you name it
It got me thinking, what sort of thing would they find attractive in prospective partner? While singing/harmonizing could be a part of it (and ngl, that did made me think of the Happy Feet movies, as silly as those were), my mind turned towards more physical attributes
Thus, this AU was born- where one of the reasons why Pop trolls like to be most active at night (to party) is that a Moon's Light also allows them to appreciate fur/flocking patterns otherwise hidden, where the complexity and style varies from troll to troll, as is thought to show one's inner self
Contrary to what one would expect from the Princess (and future Queen) of Pop, Poppy's patterns are rather simple- but striking nonetheless, firm and bold stripes, like taking a wide brush to a canvas- straightforward but chaotic in their hardly orderly fashion Poppy struts her patterns; they are unique and dominant among the general showing of swirls, polka dots and flower like spottings She is aware her stripes are not considered the most attractive of features- too similar to that of a predatory critter, too sharp for who is supposed to be cheerful queen of equally cheerful people- but she is a romantic at heart and believes that when it will be time to choose a consort, those physical features are surface-level importance at best, and this is the mentality she has going forward, looking at the glowing marks of her friends and considering them equally beautiful no matter what.
Until she manages to spot Branch one night outside under the full moon light that is.
Branch's pattern, in high contrast to Poppy, is far more complex. Symetrical but delicate in its filigree, and far more detailed than anything the Princess has ever seen before. Usually, Branch ventures out only on moonless nights, as he feels the glow of his marks are too visible, too dangerous to just show out and about, for every dangerous predator to see- and it is purely bad luck when bad weather caughts him outside longer than he would have liked, and Poppy manages to catch the sight of him while he is completely unaware he had been seen.
All her conviction flies right out of the window, as she looks at his delicate patterning and her mind just goes blank and - Oh
Usually she would have called out to him, ask him to come to a party- but she feels mesmerized, hypnotized by the elegance of the filigree, and her mind longs for a way to memorate it forever- with a photo, or a painting- and she stares at the entrance of his bunker long after he vanished inside, completely stupefied and wrong footed.
Before, Poppy hardly ever gave Branch a thought, when it came to this part of Pop Troll culture; as part of her, guiltily, sort of assumed that with his lack of colour, his patterning would be rather bland as well- and besides, it's not like he ever shown a desire to participate in courting dances.
But now she is left with sudden new, and unexpected feeling- her heart and breath going now a bit faster everytime she catches a glimpse of him from now on, her cheeks flushing and her tail wagging in excitement
(Her desk's drawer is filled with failed cut out scrapbook pieces of leaves and tiny detailed filigree, as she attempts to journal her sudden and new discover and cant get it quite right)
Tldr; Pop Trolls have fur/flocking patterns that appear only under the moon's light, and Poppy finds Branch's so irresistibly attractive she hardly knows what to do with herself
This pushes her to try and spend more time with him- just spend time with him, no trying to push him to go to parties with her or trying to get him to sing or hug
For his part, Branch is both secretly pleased his own crush is now paying more attention to him than to Creek (who is not happy with this development) but also holy shit Poppy is paying more attention to him, so it is kind of unnerving for him, freaking him out
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chaoticelegant · 10 months ago
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hobby lobby has MAD yarn sales. currently knitting and crocheting as we speak
I'm still working on Christmas gifts, only a month late, but c'est la vie
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blondieeu · 14 days ago
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comfort inn. aizawa s.
a/n; early christmas content?!
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being in a long term relationship with aizawa shouta and eventually making him a holiday person even though he denies it.
"shouta, you're still the most talented gift wrapper I know," you teased as you peaked under the absurdly large and fully decorated christmas tree that had actually no business in your small apartment.
more specifically, you were peaking at the nicely wrapped and carefully lined up boxes placed under it. on the other side of the christmas tree, were your clearly not so neatly wrapped presents.
as you both laid on the couch, him on the L side of the couch with his arms lazily behind his head, your small tuxedo cat- terra took over the other half of the couch (literally just the arm of the couch) and you, not too far away from him but not touching as you both laid there in one another presence.
he wore a long sleeve black shirt and some pajama pants. his hair was in a nice low sleek bun you did for him while he brushed his teeth. he doesn't ask you to put his hair in a bun for him anymore, you just do it because you know he appreciates it.
shouta narrowed his eyes at you. "someone has to maintain elegance in this chaotic apartment." he mumbled, almost under his breath but he knew you could hear him. the lower half of his face was covered by a fluffy white throw blanket.
"maintaining elegance is crazy work, you know that right?" you chuckled out loud peeling your eyes from the impeccably wrapped presents to your boyfriend, laughing loudly when you made eye contact and he cracked a smirk that quickly went away. "besides, your elegance looks a lot like perfectionism to me shouta."
"same difference." he didn't even move from his position on the couch, arms still behind his head. aizawa had been wrapping gifts like that since your very first christmas together, he wrapped you one on your first date.
your large christmas tree shined brightly from the corner of your living room. many colorful decorations, lights, ornaments and a bunch of other shit could be seen on it. it was so big and extra and unnecessary, especially for your apartment - you loved it so much.
"..are you social distancing now?" you smiled at his subtle request for you to come closer, obliging him as you settled back into the warmth of your couch. you weren't really cuddling, just laying beside one another. you relished in the feeling of the heat radiating off your boyfriend.
eventually, your gaze swept across the small apartment you and shouta made into a home throughout the years of your relationship. currently, it turned into what looked like someones grandma's house over the holidays - specifically yours... and it may or may not have been because you stole a bunch of her stuff years ago and wont give it back.
sparkly christmas lights, and sneaky mistletoes placed above the more frequently used door frames. the smell of baking cookies filled all the unoccupied spaces in your home. 'ridiculous' color changing lights danced around on your ceiling too, something you personally insisted you have in the house this christmas.
"up to eight christmas' man. " you began, affection filling your voice. "i can't believe I ended up turning the king of emo into a christmas pro." you fell into a fit of laughter as you continued to poke fun at him, he kept his eyes glued to the television mounted on the wall. terra yawned and leaped off the couch before disappearing behind the kitchen island.
the pro-hero raised a bushy brow, ignoring the fact that she left. "emo..?" he seemed a little taken aback that someone would tell him that. "im a little quiet, I'll admit." "a little?-" you sat up on your elbow, turning towards him with raised eyebrows.
"I speak when necessary. there's nothing 'emo' about me."
"what about that drawing koda made of you?" you both thought back to a week prior; visiting the wild wild pussycats and finding a crumbled picture of shouta poorly drawn as the grinch, which was ironic because you were only visiting to ask what koda would want this christmas. a snicker was heard from your side of the couch, a side eye was also received directly after.
shouta turned his head at the mention of the piece of paper, trying to hide his faint smile. "koda's artistic skills are.. a little questionable." you laughed again. "and I'm not a 'christmas pro.' I just enjoy.. some aspects of the holiday." "yeah, like what?" you threw a leg over his as you cuddled into him to steal his blanket.
"don't let me find out you really do like our sparkling rainbow ceiling lights shouta!" your long-term boyfriend instinctively put an arm around your shoulder as you laid your head on his chest, then fixing the blanket on top of the both of you. "I tolerate them."
"you're my closet christmas king" he looked down at you with an unexpected chuckle, his breath tickled the bridge of your nose. "don't tell anyone that." you happily held up your pinky, he obliged and curled his with yours as you sealed it with a kiss. "secrets safe with me baby"
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blondieeu xx
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meazalykov · 1 month ago
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the stylist
aitana bonmati x actress!reader
summary: you're used to this, she isn't. she asks for you help in one of the biggest moments of her life.
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it’s 2020, and you’re in barcelona for a collaboration between the football club and the spanish film industry—a whirlwind of press, promotion, and bridging two seemingly different worlds. 
you're used to the attention, the cameras, the lights, but something about stepping into the club’s facilities feels different, exciting.
the air is filled with energy as you watch barcelona’s women’s team train, the players effortlessly weaving around each other, laughter mixing with shouts of encouragement and reassurance. 
that's when you see her—aitana bonmatí. she’s different from everyone else on the pitch, even from the other players who are all exceptional in their own right. 
there’s something about the way she moves, a certain fluidity and elegance, every step calculated but not forced. her focus is razor-sharp, but when she laughs, it’s like watching the sun break through clouds. 
you’re captivated, and you don’t even realize you're staring until your assistant nudges you, bringing you back to the present moment.
the actual collaboration project is a chaotic blur of scripts, media appearances, and photo ops with the team. and then, you get the chance to talk to her. aitana is quieter than you imagined—thoughtful, a little reserved, but there's a spark in her eyes that you can't ignore. 
she teases you for not knowing much about football, and you tease back, pretending you don’t know who she is when, in reality, you’d already spent hours watching clips of her play. 
one conversation turns into two, then three. before you know it, you’re staying longer at the training grounds, just to catch a glimpse of her or to share a quick chat over coffee.
it doesn’t take long for something to blossom between you. it’s like everything clicks into place, like you were always meant to find her in this way. 
by early 2021, you’re together, stealing moments between your busy lives—you, jetting off to film sets and premieres; her, dedicating every ounce of herself to the sport she loves. despite the chaos, every time you’re together, it’s just... easy. simple.
you learn quickly that loving aitana means living in the moment. she teaches you to embrace the small things, to find joy in an early morning run along the beach, or in a lazy afternoon spent watching the waves lap against the sand. 
and you, in return, show her the magic of your world—the glitz, the glamor, and the art of bringing stories to life on screen. in the end, it's not about your worlds; it’s just about the two of you, finding pieces of yourselves in one another.
by 2023, things get even crazier. 
it’s the year of the women’s world cup, and aitana is on fire. as part of the spanish national team, she trains harder than ever, and you watch from the sidelines, cheering her on in stadiums from new zealand to australia, wearing her number and beaming with pride. 
every pass, every goal feels like a triumph, and when they finally win, you’re there in the stands, screaming and crying as they lift that trophy into the air. it’s a moment you’ll never forget: aitana, surrounded by her teammates, glowing with pride, holding the world cup above her head like a queen with her crown. 
you rush down after the match, and when she finds you in the sea of friends and family, she pulls you close, her sweat and tears mingling with yours as she kisses you deeply. 
“we did it,” she chants in catalan, and you know she means all of it—not just the world cup, but everything leading up to that moment.
it’s a whirlwind from there. aitana’s name is on everyone's lips. every headline praises her for being one of the best midfielders in the world, and talk of the ballon d’or starts almost immediately. 
the idea of winning such a prestigious award is exhilarating—and terrifying—for aitana. 
she’s humble to a fault, always quick to deflect praise, always wanting the spotlight to be on the team rather than herself. and while the world hypes her up, aitana becomes more nervous as the ceremony approaches. 
one night, she confesses to you that she feels overwhelmed by it all. 
“what if i don’t deserve this?” she asks, and you just shake your head, holding her close as she wraps her arms around you tightly. 
“are you serious? of course you deserve this. you deserve everything, aitana,” you tell her, and you mean it more than anything.
then there’s the matter of the ceremony itself. it’s in paris, and it will be one of the most glamorous nights of the year. 
aitana hires a stylist, wanting to make sure she looks her best, but every fitting seems to leave her feeling more out of place. the dresses are either too flashy, too revealing, or just... not her. 
you’re on set, filming for a movie during most of this, but every time she calls you, you can hear the frustration in her voice. she’s worried about standing out for the wrong reasons, about wearing something that doesn’t feel true to who she is.
when you finally wrap up filming, you decide to head back to barcelona early, just to be with her. you find her one evening, sitting on the floor of your shared apartment, surrounded by garment bags and fabric swatches, looking utterly defeated. 
“i just want to feel comfortable,” she admits, the vulnerability in her voice breaking your heart.
you smile, tilting her chin up so she looks at you. 
“you know you’re dating a professional, right?” you tease, and she laughs, but there's relief in her eyes. 
“i've done this a hundred times. let me help you.” 
together, you dive into the chaos of dresses, sketches, and fabric samples. you know aitana better than anyone, and you know exactly what would make her feel beautiful and confident. 
you pull out a stunning black dress, elegant and understated, with just the right amount of sparkle—a shimmer that catches the light without being overpowering. 
“try this,” you say, holding it up to her.
when she slips into it, it’s like everything clicks into place. the dress hugs her perfectly, shimmering around her frame like a sky full of stars, the black fabric cascading down like liquid silk. the muscles she has fit into the dress stunningly.
you watch as aitana turns in front of the mirror, a smile spreading across her face, the confidence you knew was there all along finally showing. 
“you look breathtaking,” you say, coming up behind her and resting your hands on her waist. in the mirror, you see her bite her lip, trying to hold back tears as she turns to face you.
“thank you,” she whispers, and you know she’s thanking you for more than just the dress. for supporting her, for believing in her, for always being her anchor through everything. 
“i’m so proud of you, aitana,” you tell her, pulling her into a hug, feeling her warmth, her strength. 
masterlist
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ginxyy · 18 days ago
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Catching Flights & Feelings
A man who travels a lot falls in love with a flight attendant he always sees.
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Every time the airplane doors slid shut and the familiar hum of the engines filled the cabin, a flutter of excitement ignited within you. There, among the rows of seats and the soft murmur of passengers settling in, you found your rhythm. You had mastered the art of the skies, weaving through clouds with an elegance that could only be embraced by those who belonged to this world. But this time was different, and you felt it in every fiber of your being.
As you prepared for the safety demonstration, a familiar figure settled into his seat. Seungcheol, the charming man from Seventeen, had taken a spot in your section yet again. You had seen him countless times on your flights, flashing his twinkling smile and reverberating with an unmistakable aura that made him a beacon of warmth in a bustling, often chaotic environment. His fame was undeniable—his name echoed in the whispers of your colleagues and the excited chatter of fans during layovers but to you, he was just Seungcheol.
You grinned, feeling a spark of mischief dance behind your eyes. “Ready for takeoff, Mr. Celebrity?” you teased, your playful tone slicing through the air like a gentle breeze. You leaned in, letting a hint of flirtation lace your words, and watched as his cheeks flushed a shade of crimson that would put roses to shame.
“Only if you’re serving the drinks today,” he responded, winking at you with that disarming charm. His eyes held a twinkle that made your heart thump louder than the engines’ roar.
You resumed your duties, but not before braving a last glance at him. In that fleeting moment, you imagined the unexplored depths beneath his public persona and what it would be like to peel back the layers, uncovering the man hidden behind the celebrated façade. Unbeknownst to you, he was just as enamored with you as you were with him.
The days turned into weeks, and each flight became a cherished ritual. You found yourself counting down the hours until you could see him again. The more you spoke, the more a comfortable rhythm developed between you a playful banter that ignited during each in-flight encounter. You joked about turbulence, made puns about jet lag, and learned how to flirt through simple glances. If someone had told you that you could fall so hard over high altitudes and the scent of recycled air, you would have laughed. But here you were, caught in the spell of this endearing connection.
One evening, after a particularly grueling day filled with delays and turbulence, you were surprised to see Seungcheol waiting at the gate, a bright smile illuminating his face. He was flanked by a small group of fans, yet his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made the world around you blur.
“Want to grab drinks after the flight?” he asked innocently, as if it were the most natural of propositions.
“Are we really going to discuss drinks? It’s the third time this week you’ve asked me out on a flight my heart can only take so much of the turbulence,” you teased, unable to suppress the way your smile widened.
He chuckled, the sound bubbling up like champagne. “So you admit you like it. I’m getting somewhere, then. What’ll it be? A flight to nowhere? I promise I’m an excellent co-pilot.”
“Just as long as I’m in the captain’s seat,” you flirted back, feeling the thrill of anticipation tingle through your stomach.
Following that, a spontaneous series of adventures unfolded between you both, hidden from the prying eyes of the world. Late-night conversations in airport lounges turned into coffee breaks in the bustling streets of Tokyo, and you found joy in navigating cities while flirting like teenagers. Seungcheol relished the simple pleasures, basking in the joy of being with someone who viewed him through a lens unclouded by fame.
“Do you know what I like most about you?” he asked one afternoon as the spring breeze whispered through the cherry blossoms around you.
“What’s that?” you replied, leaning in, curious and utterly engaged. His handsome features softened, and the earnestness written on his face made your heart skip.
“You treat me like a person, not just some idol. You’re refreshing like a breath of fresh air after a long flight.” His gaze held yours, desire and sincerity entwined. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”
Growing bold, you decided to take a leap of faith. “Maybe you should stop flying around so much and spend more time on the ground with me. I can introduce you to all the best coffee spots,” you suggested, a mischievous glint in your eye.
Seungcheol smirked, the corners of his mouth curling up with delight. “And I can promise to be your co-pilot on all your adventures. What do you say?”
You both spent countless afternoons rearranging schedules, mastering detours, and making memories amongst the thrumming heart of life. The world was a blur of new places and experiences, but what truly grounded you was the thrill of being together.
As weeks turned into months, the scenery shifted around you both, more vibrant and tantalizing than you’d ever envisioned. Cozy dinners after long flights, sneaking kisses behind the airport terminal… It was all a concoction of magic and spontaneity, and you thrived on it. In that whirlwind of romance, Seungcheol somehow managed to nestle himself firmly in your heart, becoming more than a fleeting passenger on your journeys.
One fateful evening, while stared into the pulsating city lights from your hotel balcony, you realized that your whirlwind romance fuelled by chance encounters and flirtatious exchanges had grounded itself into something deeper, more meaningful.
Leaning against the railing and looking out at the horizon, you felt him step up behind you, a presence that made the night warmer. “Are you going to share a drink with your co-pilot or just stare into the distance and dream?”
Smiling to yourself, your heart hummed the answer. “Only if it’s a romantic dinner under the stars.”
Underneath the vast expanse, wrapped in each other’s warmth, you both discovered that romance could blossom not just in the clouds but in every heartbeat you shared on Earth.
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gojo-mochi · 1 month ago
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Hiiii ❤️ May I (pretty) please get a short steamy "what are we?" reader with Nanami showing her exactly what they are? TvT
im so SORRY IT SO LONG JUST SKIP TO WHERE IT SAID "A short drive..."
˖◛⁺⑅♡ Female Reader
˖◛⁺⑅♡ Warnings: Bit of crying from reader, small emotional breakdown.
˖◛⁺⑅♡ Sexual Content: Creampie, Mating press, ,Praises, Nicknames: "Love, Princess,"
˖◛⁺⑅♡ Word Count: 3.6k (im sorry...)
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The first time you and Nanami stumbled in bed together was on a night where you two were both working overtime. Both feeling frustrated at the shitty higher-ups who kept piling work on you with no expectation of a raise. You and Nanami weren’t that close before, just regular work colleagues for the most part, but with the power of hating on the same thing, that night you and Nanami grew closer than you could have ever imagined. 
 What started as a boring work night turned into a shit talking fest about your managers, which turned into you asking Nanami out for a drink and then ultimately into you drunkenly stumbling into Nanami’s apartment and on to his bed. His hands roaming on your body, your own hands grasping on to his hair as he tears your work clothes off of you. Your bodies entwining with each other in a heated, intoxicated mess, you two gave into your wild desires with no remorse that night.  
Well, at least the remorse didn’t really set in until the start of the early morning. Waking up alone in an unfamiliar room, with various love bites and marks scattered across your body. Your head throbbing trying to look for an answer to what happened, then the smell of coffee and cinnamon hits your nose.
Nanami walks in the room, looking just as disheveled as how you felt but still giving off a look of elegance as he walks forward towards you. Holding a mug of coffee and a plate of cinnamon pancakes in his hands. Greeting you with a warm smile and joining you on the edge of the bed, handing over the food that you gracefully devoured. 
As you were shoveling the fluffy morsel of food in your mouth, Nanami gently recapped what happened last night. Then, when he was done, he turned to you with a soft smile and brushed some hair stuck to your cheek. His fingertips were warm, and his smile was soothing to your soul. He leans in to kiss your forehead and murmurs softly that he wants to continue forward with this relationship with you. 
With pancakes still stuffed in your cheeks, you could only nod in agreement with him; you did want to continue whatever this was. Nanami smiles wide and cuddles close, resting his head on top of yours as his arms delicately wrap around you so as to not hinder your movement.  
“I’m glad you agree, Y/N…” 
You murmured back in agreement. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be in a relationship with Nanami? The only thing was that you didn’t really know what kind of relationship you were agreeing to. Did he mean a casual relationship, friends with benefits type? Or did he mean like a real exclusive relationship? Your head was too full of mush to ask at that moment. 
You didn’t get a chance to ask Nanami what he really meant by it, since work got more chaotic, your bosses got even shittier, and the overtime got longer. Which leaves no room for an exchanging of words when Nanami pulls you into his arms after every shift and you two both fall into bed together again and again. The sex was even more amazing when you can remember all of it, and Nanami was still sweet and caring afterwards as well. 
So you just kept falling deeper and deeper in the hole, falling more in love with Nanami every day, unsure of what to call your relationship.
It was another late night at the office; your eyes almost bloodshot from how long you've been staring at the computer screen. You don’t even check the time when you feel Nanami pull your chair back and gently hold a hand over your eyes. 
“It’s time to stop now, darling. I’ll take care of your workstation; just go and pack up; I’ll be with you soon.” You felt his lips kiss the top of your head as he pulled your chair out some more and shut down your computer. You gather up your items and your bag as you groan and stretch out your weary limbs. Trudging over to the elevator while you wait for Nanami to be done—this was almost like a routine you guys do every night now. Nanami always volunteers to clean up after you, like the gentleman he is, and then you guys go back to his apartment to relieve some stress. 
A short drive in Nanami’s car and up the elevator into his apartment, walking into the familiar area, you take off your shoes and coat as Nanami follows in behind you. Hands on your shoulder, his lips on the back of your head, ghosting down to the nape of your neck as his hands go to your chest. 
Unbuttoning your top as you stumble your way into the bedroom, turning around to meet Nanami’s lips with your own. Your shirt fully unbuttoned at this point as his skillful hands go to do the same to your bra. Slowly pushing you backwards until you reach the bed, he pushes you down gently so you sit down on the edge of the bed. His lips leave yours to trail down your neck, leaving kisses at every moment. 
Nanami then kneels down, his hand going up from your waist to your shoulders as he discards your top and bra, throwing them to the side. Kissing down the middle of your chest, making you giggle a little as he gets to your belly button. He stops the kisses there as he goes down further to take off your shoes one by one, then back up to undo your pants, giving your thighs a soft squeeze in the process. 
Down to just your panties now, you take a glance to look at Nanami, finding his eyes to be full of desire and hunger. He parts your thigh apart, continuing his mission to mark every inch of your body with kisses. Taking a cheeky bite on the inside of your thigh as his hand massages the other one. His kisses get wetter and sloppier as he gets closer to your panties, until his nose is pressed right up against your clothed clit.
You shudder as you feel Nanami taking a deep inhale in through his nose, basking in your scent. His eyes half-lidded as he pulled himself impossibly closer to your core. There was a stark difference between the Nanami you’re seeing now and the one at work. The one at work being more stoic and calm, having an unshakable sort of demeanor about him. 
While Nanami right now… is acting like a dog in heat, shaking his face back and forth on your damp panties. Getting your scent all over his face without an ounce of shame in him, just pure carnal desire radiating from him. You make a move to grab a lockful of his hair, making him groan loudly. Eyes blinking up at you, just full of intensity. 
“Na-nanami…A-ah!” 
Nanami pulled your panties to the side with his teeth, exposing your wet cunt to the open air. Poking his nose right on your slit, wetting the bottom half of his face in your juices, Nanami pulls back with a soft grin on his face, hearing your cute little whimpers from his action. 
He gives a small kiss on your throbbing clit and goes back to rubbing his cheek between your legs. His deep voice murmurs out as he continues to get your scent all over him. 
“I keep telling you to call me Kento, darling, I really want to hear it coming from your lips....” He fiddles with the hem of your panties as he looks up at you, awaiting your answer. 
Your hand goes back to pet his head, feeling his fluffy hair gliding in between your fingers, stalling for time as your mind mull over how to answer that. Calling him Kento feels like it would be a huge step in your relationship. Even though you guys had sex multiple times before, calling him by his first name just felt so personal… 
Does him telling you to call him Kento mean that he wants this relationship to go to the next step? Is it already on that step? Or is this just a kink of his, and you mean nothing to him?
All these questions swirl in your mind, the silence in the room growing too long for Nanami’s liking, so he gets off the floor and envelops your hand with his. Catching your attention as he leans in closer to you, kissing your knuckles softly. 
“Tell me what’s on your mind, my dear? It pains me to see you so worried.” 
Your heart twists at the sight of Nanami looking at you so worryingly; your voice catches in your throat, and you start to feel tears well up in the corner of your eyes. All the emotions you were pushing down came rushing back up all at once in this moment. Nanami instantly got up on the bed and went to hold you as soon as he saw the first tear fall down your cheek. 
Holding you against his chest as you try to voice out apologies in between your cries. He shushes you gently, having no need for your apologies; he only responds in a worried tone. 
“What made you cry, my darling? Was it something I did?” 
Hearing how sincere he was made you even more ashamed of your hot tears. You buried your head on his shoulder and mumbled out a quiet reply back.
“N-no, it wasn’t you. I just.. I don’t know.. I just don’t know what I am to you.” 
You felt Nanami's whole body freeze right under you, your heart dropped at the feeling and you were quick to spew out apologizes again for making the mood awkward. Nanami leans away and tenderly places his hands on your cheeks, his thumb wiping away a stray tear coming down. 
His face and voice were full of confusion as he asked you what you meant by that. You swallowed dryly, scared to say anything more that might ruin what you have with Nanami right now. But, you can’t just pretend like everything was fine after you cried in front of him, so you took a deep breath and asked the question.
“What are we?”
Time seemed to stop as soon as the question left your mouth; Nanami didn’t even blink, just staring at you motionless. Your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach; you fucked up; you felt like you fucked up so bad. You need to do something to fix this; try to talk your way out of it or say you were joking or-
“Darling.” 
Nanami's voice broke the silence first. His hands were still holding your face so delicately like the slightest pressure might break you. He leaned forward until the gap between you two was only an inch. 
"Oh, darling, this was all my fault. I should have made it clearer what you truly mean to me.” 
He tilts his head and leans forward fully this time, until his lips press against your. Tongue slowly coming out to trace your bottom lips, wetting it nicely and gently prodding until he could slip it inside. His hands move to the back of your head and to the small of your back as he closes the distance between you and him even more. 
Taking your breath away with each swipe of his tongue on yours, pushing you down onto the bed, his body still attached to yours. Breaking away just for a moment so he could take his own clothes off, annoyed at the lack of skin to skin contact with you. Tearing at his own shirt and pants at a rapid pace, just because he couldn’t bear not touching you for even a second. 
Nanami cups your chin in his hand as he starts to pepper your face with kisses, murmuring sweet praises that leave you both embarrassed and joyful upon hearing them. 
“My dear, have you not noticed what you have been doing to me all this time?” 
Smooch Smooch Smooch
He places kisses on your brow, your nose, and your cheek. 
“You’re the reason I actually look forward to coming to work every day.”
Smooch Smooch Smooch
More kisses on your lips, down your neck, and then back up to the lobe of your ear.
“I am never letting you go, darling. My entire body and soul were captured by you, long before we shared our first night together.” He chuckles, his nose bumping along your hairline as he takes in a deep breath of your scent. 
“I am all yours; your mere presence is enough to shake me to the core. So, you ask what you mean to me?”
“Darling… You mean the entire world and mean to me. Sorry if that sounds cheesy or overexaggerated, but I truly mean that with all my heart. Life before meeting you and getting to know you was like a motionless and colorless film. Just living day to day, from one point to another, without any real goals.”
He sighs and leans back to look at you face to face, his eyes full of love and truth. 
“You brought color back to my life, it was like I was coming back to life for the first time.”
He sighs and leans back to look at you face to face, his eyes full of love and truth. 
“But if you can’t believe my words, then my actions will just have to make up for it…”
Suddenly, you sense one of his hands grazing your thigh, traveling all the way up until his thumb hooks in the middle of your underwear.
Sliding it to the side and lining up his cock with your dripping entrance. His bulbous tip is just barely pushing inside your walls. Nanami gives you a direct look nose to nose with each other in this intimate pose, while your mind is still processing all Nanami said.
"Do you trust me?" Nanami spoke softly to you, expressing all of his feelings directly in front of you. There was also a tinge of shakiness in his voice, a slight anxiety that you would tread on his heart after all of this. Even with your mind muddled, you knew a single fact for sure: you cherished and trusted Nanami with your entire being.
“I do… Kento” 
You put your arms around Nanami and draw him in for a kiss, while sinking his cock inside you. It wasn't your first time having sex with Nanami, but this time was different as his cock began to stretch out your walls. It appeared more full and filling, as if he was hitting deeper than in the past.
You moan into each other's mouths, the kissing becomes sloppier with each passing second, with each thrust that Nanami delivers. The tip of his cock hits the same spot every time with accuracy. Nanami knew the precise area to drive you mad, and his cock carved a niche there, marking his territory and claiming you as his own.
You gasp out of the kiss as Nanami angles his hips to go even deeper inside you, tilting your head back as your eyes start to roll back a bit too. Your face flush slightly from embarrassment from getting riled up so easily. Nanami didn’t relent even a bit after this though, mouthing and biting on the sensitive parts on your neck. 
His hot tongue ran up and down your skin, tasting your sweet sweat dripping down on it. 
"Oh my god, sweetheart." After a moment of stuttering hips, Nanami growls and bites down on your shoulder, using his tongue on the wound to soothe it. Now, as he slows down the speed, he makes sure that each thrust still reaches as deep as possible while giving you tender love bites on your neck and shoulders.
Feeling himself losing control, Nanami grips onto your thighs, his hands squeezing the sensitive flesh. 
“Darling… Darling, I can’t ho-hold back anymore.” Nanami pants out.. His voice sounded strained as he started to plead to you, “I need more of you, fuck… no, I need all of you.” 
Even in this situation, with his cock fully buried inside of you and Nanami on the verge of losing control, he pulled back just enough to gauge your reaction, to see whether you were still willing.
Your voice was nearly completely gone, lost in a haze of ecstasy. Yet, you were aware that you desired a lot more—, for Nanami should offer you everything he has. A gentle "Please." emerges on your lips.
That answer was enough for Nanami to push on, sliding his cock out of your cunt evoking a pitiful whine to emit from your throat. He coos at you sweetly, moving your hair away from your forehead to get a better look at your eyes. He leans over and adjusts the pillows beneath your head, fluffing them up before giving you a light kiss on the forehead. 
Your face shows a confused expression which made Nanami chuckle lowly, “Don’t worry, love. Just making sure you’re comfortable before I fuck you senseless.” Your mouth drops at his casual remark as he winks at you. Your dripping cunt now visible to him as he holds the back of your knees and pushes them up to your chest. He slaps his hard cock twice on your pussy, making you shudder with each slap. 
“Safe word is peach, alright? Can you say that back to me, so I know you're ready?” 
Your eyebrow furrows in confusion but you oblige, “Peach…” 
Nanami pushes his length back inside you as soon as you have finished speaking. Stretching you out again, inch by inch. As your warmth surrounds him, he lets out soft grunts and leans in till your foreheads meet, his cock completely buried in you. Hands on either side of your head as he slowly begins to sway his hips, his hair sliding down and tickling your cheeks faintly. 
Nanami quickly got into rhythm,  repeatedly slamming his hips until he quickly found the ideal angle. Nanami's cock pulses and throbs inside of you as you dig your claws into his shoulder, his length filling you up delectably each time. A hand briefly brushes across your cheek before letting go and slinking down. 
Down to your neck, his large hand stopping there for a moment. He wrapped his fingers around your neck, as if to measure it. The sensation causes your breath to hitch slightly, but Nanami's hand quickly leaves your neck and descends farther. Fingertips glide across your chest, brushing across your nipple and pinching it. The sudden sharp sensation made your back arch off the bed with a high pitch moan. Nanami’s cock gets even harder at this, twitching inside of you. Pinching and twisting your stiffened buds to get more cute reactions out of you. 
The majority of his body weight is now on top of you, so you feel every inch and strength as he continues to fuck you into the bed. Unable to move and powerless to Nanami's whims, your body completely submits to his force. 
“Ken-Kento, Kento, Kentoooo!” You could only babble out his names in the small times where you got your voice back, your vocabulary now just consists of his name and various moans and whimpers. 
His fingers finally begin to toy with your neglected clit, sliding across the sensitive bud. Pushing you closer to the edge, pure white hot bliss forms in your stomach, and your mind becomes blank. 
Your mouth hangs wide as you attempt to spit out a sentence or make noises that indicate you are getting close. But Nanami did not need any words to know; he could feel you tightening up, and he was also close to his limit.
“Come with me..please.. My princess.” His voice strained and heavy, as he quickened his finger on your clit and his hips gave out a few more thrust. You feel a flash of hotness pooling inside your stomach, as he releases all his load inside of you. Your body too worn out to do anything at this point but accept it all. 
Nanami takes a few breaths before finally pulling out, his cock leaking out a few more droplets. Nanami pulls your panties back to normal, wiping any leftover cum on his tip on the outside of your panties. Giving it a few taps to make sure that all his cum stays in there. 
You roll over to your side, eyes drooping down, body sore and ready to pass out. You let your eyes close as your ears perk up to listen to Nanami’s voice. 
“Get some rest, my love. My sweet princess..” He purrs out slowly, as you hear the creaking of the bed and walking. 
“I’ll come back with something to wipe you off, but I want you to keep those panties on, at least for the night. I’ll be sure to refill them tomorrow morning.” He chuckles to himself, you feel a hand caress your cheek and fluff up your hair. Nanami’s voice grows closer as you feel his lips on your forehead. 
“I love you, my princess. You are my whole world, something to be cherished and loved. Never deny my feelings for you, but if those thoughts ever darkened your mind again.” 
His voice goes down to a whisper as you drift off to sleep. 
“I will always be here to show just how much I love you, my dear.”
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mya-valentine · 2 months ago
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Headcanon: Dracule Mihawk With a Witch S/O
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Mihawk is naturally drawn to his S/O's mysterious abilities and the aura of magic they carry. As someone with immense strength and skill, he respects those who possess power, and his S/O’s magical abilities intrigue him in a way few things do.
Though Mihawk is a man of few words, he often watches his S/O work their magic in silence, admiring their grace and control. He’s fascinated by how effortlessly they wield their spells and charms, much like how he masters his sword.
When fighting together, Mihawk and his S/O become a force to be reckoned with. Their magic complements Mihawk’s swordsmanship perfectly, creating an elegant and deadly combination. Mihawk trusts his S/O’s powers as much as his own, and their partnership in battle is seamless.
Mihawk enjoys learning about the arcane arts from his S/O. He asks thoughtful, probing questions about the origins and mechanics of their magic. Their late-night conversations are filled with intellectual discussions about power, mastery, and the ancient forces that govern both swordsmanship and magic.
Mihawk is patient when his S/O is experimenting with new spells or potions. He watches quietly from a distance, never interrupting unless they ask for his opinion. If something goes wrong, he simply raises an eyebrow and remains unfazed, trusting in their abilities to correct it.
While Mihawk respects his S/O’s independence, he’s highly protective of them when it comes to their magic. If anyone dares to underestimate or challenge their powers, Mihawk steps in without hesitation, his presence alone enough to intimidate most.
Mihawk is skilled at locating rare and powerful items, and he occasionally surprises his S/O with ancient magical artifacts or grimoires. These gifts are his way of showing his appreciation for their craft, though he presents them with his usual composed demeanor.
Mihawk’s calm and steady presence balances out his S/O’s sometimes chaotic magical energy. When they’re overwhelmed by a difficult spell or their magic acts unpredictably, Mihawk’s unwavering support helps them regain focus and control.
Mihawk’s island, with its eerie castle and ominous atmosphere, feels perfectly suited for a witch. His S/O’s magical energy only enhances the already mystical feeling of the place, and Mihawk enjoys the way their presence makes the island feel even more alive with enchantment.
Mihawk may not always express his feelings verbally, but his actions speak volumes. He never questions his S/O’s magical pursuits, allowing them the space to practice and grow. There’s a deep mutual respect between them, and his quiet understanding makes their bond even stronger.
If his S/O enchants Mihawk’s sword, Yoru, it’s a moment of deep trust between them. He doesn’t need magic to enhance his skills, but allowing them to imbue Yoru with protective or offensive spells is a sign of the high regard in which he holds them.
Though Mihawk has a stoic exterior, his S/O often enjoys using small, harmless spells to tease him. They might make his wine float just out of reach or conjure little illusions to catch him off guard. Mihawk rarely reacts outwardly, but the smallest smirk gives away his amusement.
Mihawk and his S/O are both comfortable with silence and solitude. They often spend time together in quiet companionship, Mihawk sharpening his sword or reading while his S/O brews potions or practices their craft. It’s a peaceful existence that they both appreciate.
Mihawk shares a dry, subtle sense of humor with his S/O, and they bond over dark, magical jokes that others might not understand. Their shared wit adds a layer of intimacy to their relationship, with Mihawk appreciating the cleverness his S/O brings to every interaction.
With his S/O being a witch, Mihawk contemplates the longevity of their lives. The prospect of them potentially living longer due to their magic doesn't worry him. He is unafraid of time and fully embraces the idea of spending his life, however long, with his powerful and enchanting partner.
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Masterlist
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izzymissi · 1 month ago
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Re8 Women cooking with their Partner HCs
Contains: Lady Dimitrescu, Donna Benevento, Cassandra Dimitrescu, Bela Dimitrescu, Daniela Dimitrescu
ALCINA
-Alcina never steps foot in the kitchen... until one day, she decides to grace you with her presence. She towers over everything, moving with elegance but completely clueless about how to use half the utensils.
-"Darling, this wine is vintage, do you know how much it costs?" You try to convince her that it’s not necessary for your simple pasta dish. She insists on pouring it in anyway—while looking stunning, of course.
-At some point, she knocks over a frying pan and immediately blames the kitchen for being “too small” for her stature.
-If you even get near anything sharp or hot, she’s immediately by your side. "No, I will handle the knives. Do you think I’d let anything hurt my precious girl?" She dotes on you the entire time, constantly interrupting the cooking process with kisses on your forehead.
DONNA
-You thought you were being efficient by breaking the spaghetti in half. Donna gasps, then starts screaming in Italian, flailing a wooden spoon at you while Angie cackles from the counter
-Most of the time, Donna just quietly watches you cook, a soft smile on her face as she sneaks up behind you to hug you from the back. But the minute you make a mistake, she lets out a quiet "tsk" and fixes it herself, all while keeping her shy demeanor.
-She gives you a mysterious jar of herbs to add to the sauce, telling you it's a "family recipe." You're 90% sure they're from her greenhouse, but the taste is surprisingly delicious. "Told you it would work," she says with a wink.
BELA
-Bela is the type who follows recipes to the letter. Every ingredient is precisely measured, and she insists on cleaning up as you go. "We can’t cook in a mess, dear." You, on the other hand, prefer a more chaotic approach, much to her frustration.
-You both argue playfully over how much basil to put in the sauce. She’s convinced you’re adding too much, but when she tastes it, she begrudgingly admits, "Fine, it’s actually… perfect."
-In between the playful bickering, Bela sneaks in soft kisses on your cheek while you’re stirring the sauce. You can feel her smile against your skin when she pulls away.
-At one point, she accidentally burns her tongue on a sauce sample. You laugh as she frantically drinks water, pouting at you for not warning her.
CASSANDRA
-Cassandra’s idea of "helping" in the kitchen is using her scythe to chop vegetables at lightning speed. "Look how fast I can do it!" she grins, but you wince at the chaos she leaves behind. A carrot or two ends up flying across the room.
-When you ask her to add a little spice to the dish, she dumps the whole jar of chili powder into the pot. "Too much? Babe, you’ll survive." Spoiler: You did not survive.
-Every time you try to concentrate on cooking, Cassandra playfully grabs you by the waist, spins you around, and kisses you passionately. "Why are you cooking when you could be kissing me?" She finally lets you get back to work after the fourth kiss.
-The kitchen catches fire for five seconds, and it’s absolutely Cassandra’s fault for leaving something unattended. But instead of panicking, she just laughs it off and says, "Well, looks like we’re ordering pizza tonight."
DANIELA
-Daniela wants to bake a dessert with you, but she ends up eating half of the cookie dough before it even goes in the oven. "What? I can’t help it!" she says with her mouth full.
-The kitchen is a disaster zone after cooking with Daniela. There’s flour everywhere—on you, on her, even in her hair. But she just laughs it off and smears some on your nose, playfully teasing you.
-While you're waiting for something to finish baking, Daniela takes the opportunity to start a tickle war, completely forgetting about the oven timer. The cookies end up overbaked, but neither of you cares because you’re too busy giggling and kissing on the floor.
-She sneaks little spoonfuls of everything you make, grinning like a child when you catch her. “I’m just making sure it’s not poisoned,” she says, though you both know she just can’t wait to try your cooking.
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