#he knows all of their names and says hello to all of them
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Co Parents To Lovers Again (part 2)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
Warnings: fluff (smut in the next part)
part 1
It's been three days since the unfortunate misunderstanding with Charles and you haven't heard from him at all since.
You were overthinking the whole situation that happened on Sunday and couldn't come to any proper conclusion. At the same time, you were sad because he thought you would bring someone else into your bed, even though it wasn't your shared bed anymore, but you couldn't believe that he thought so little of you after all the years you'd spent together.
And yet on the other hand, you were thinking like any woman, you were glad that he was jealous and that the very thought of someone replacing him bothered him because that only meant he wasn't over you and that he still wanted to make things right between you two. Basically, you were torn between your brain and your heart once again and it was just a matter of what would prevail between the two this time.
Even though deep down you knew you couldn't fight yourself. You broke up over some disagreements that when you look at things more closely weren't worth destroying your relationship and your little family. You were both stubborn, he was a little too possessive, you were lacking in understanding, parenting, you spent most of your time alone with Lou and everything came together and exploded.
Now that you look back on the whole year you spent without him, you know that as hard as it is sometimes to be with him, it's ten times harder to be without him. You realize that you both made a rash decision, but then again maybe it had to happen only to make you realize how much you need each other in every way possible.
It's Wednesday night and while you're preparing tonight's dinner and tomorrow's lunch, Lou is sitting at the dining room table drawing. Soon your cooking is interrupted by the ringing of your phone on the kitchen island. A strange feeling comes over you as you wipe your hands on a dish towel and look at your phone only to see Charles' name on the screen.
You want to answer the phone, but you don't want the conversation to end in an argument so before you pick up the phone, you take a deep breath and try to calm down and strengthen your voice so it doesn't sound shaky.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's me." He says it in a completely normal, calm tone and you're grateful for that.
"Hey, what's up?"
"Umm, I'm leaving tomorrow for the race so I was wondering if you could put Lou on the facetime so I can see her since I won't be able to have her for the weekend?" He asks.
"Sure, just let me switch to facetime."
Once you did, Charles face appeared on the screen and he smiled when he saw yours too. You tried to hide the blush on your face and quickly walked over to Lou putting the phone in front of her.
"Baby, daddy wants to talk to you" You said setting the phone in front of her and leaving them alone to talk.
Since the kitchen and dining room were connected, you went back into the kitchen and could hear everything the two of them were saying. You didn't want to eavesdrop, but you kinda did.
"Hey, daddy!" Lou exclaimed excitedly.
"Mon ange, what are you doing?"
"I'm drawing and-and mommy is cooking" She says.
"Yeah? What are you drawing?"
"I'm drawing you in a red car. See" She says putting up the paper in front of the camera for him to see.
"Good job, baby. It looks great!"
"It's for you, I will give it to you when you come get me" She says forgetting that she won't be spending the weekend with him.
"Thank you, baby, but unfortunately we won't be together this weekend because papa has to work, but we'll see each other next week, okay?"
"Oh.." She pouts.
"Don't be sad, we'll see each other very soon, okay? I miss you so much and I'm thinking of you all the time."
Your heart is completely softened by his words and the immeasurable amount of love he has for your daughter.
"I miss you too, daddy"
"Okay, baby. I'll talk to you soon, I love you."
"Bye, I love you too." She says waving her hand as he blows her a kiss.
You watch her from afar and see how her mood immediately changed when she heard that she wouldn't be seeing him. Shaken by emotions, you move closer to her and squat down next to her.
"What's wrong, bug?" You ask her.
She doesn't look at you but frowns looking down at drawing on the paper in front of her.
"I miss papa" She says, hear eyes filled with tears.
"Can I tell you a little secret?" You say and she nods. "I miss papa too." You whisper making her look at you.
"Would you like to watch him race this weekend?"
"You mean on the TV?" She asks.
"No, I mean how about we go and see him?" You suggest and her eyes light up.
"Really?!"
"Would you like that?"
"Yes, yes! And I can give him this!" She says excitedly and you chuckle at how sweet she is.
"Then we have a deal. Now, finish up your drawing and go wash your hands because dinner is almost ready okay?"
"Okay, mommy. Thank you"
Nothing can compare to the happiness you feel when you see your daughter happy. Both you and Charles would do anything for her, and that's why you decided to quickly run upstairs to your bedroom, turn the hoodie right side out.
When a print of an F1 car was visible on the black hoodie, you took a picture of it and sent it to Charles without any additional explanation, because you knew that everything would be clear as a day to him once he saw it.
After just a few minutes, your phone vibrated in your hands.
'Been looking for it for a while now..' Charles' message said.
'I really fucked up this time, didn't I?' He added.
'You kinda did.' You replied.
'I'm so sorry, y/n..'
'You're lucky your daughter adores you so much and you better send a plane for the two of us so we can make it to the race on time.'
part 3
@charlesgirl16 @aleatorio1234 @teamnovalak @watermelonslut @diaryofarandomkid @sunny44 @tempo-rary-fix @ggaslyp1 @janeh22 @seonghwaexile @seasonswinter @itgirlofthecenturysposts @ricciardosredbull @amz824 @sarx164
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1#f1 x reader#f1 scenario#f1 smut#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 blurb#f1 fluff#f1 one shot#f1 imagine
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So Ive had this prompt stuck in my head, dunno if you've done it before, but:
Billy unexpectedly powers down due to a villain's weapon. But instead of being, well, scruffy little billy, he ends up looking like a greek child with the toga (?) and all. What would the JL reaction be?
This whole incident started half a year ago with the divine beings in his head arguing about something. Arguing was a surprisingly common occurrence despite the fact that most of these guys were over thousands of years old. He tended to normally tune them out whenever this was happening.
Achilles: âBILLY!â
Marvel: *startles* âYes, Achilles?â
Achilles: âChiton or toga?â
Marvel: âHuh?
Mercury: âChiton or toga? Weâre making you a gift. Arenât we like so kind?â
Marvel: âA giftâŚ?â *sounds weary* âI donât like the sound of that. What are you planning?â
Zeus: âNothing!â
Marvel: âSolomon?â
Solomon: âIt really is nothing. This will actually aid you in case of any accidents while in field.â
Marvel: âOkay thenâŚâ
Hercules: âNOW PICK!â
Marvel: âAlright, alright, dang. Uh⌠Whatâs a chiton?â
Zeus: âWhatâs a- Whatâs a chiton? Iâve never felt such a shame for one of my children before.â
Marvel: âIâm not your kid, but okay.â
Solomon: âBilly, a chiton is a tunic that was worn traditionally by the Greeks.â
Marvel: âOooh. Uh⌠okay then I pick that one.â
Zeus: âHa ha, suck it Atlas!â
Atlas: âI also wanted him to pick the ChitonâŚ?â
Zeus: âI know. I just donât like you. I thought that was obvious by now.â
Billy didnât know that Robin was like five feet away and watching this entire interaction go down. To Damian, this grown ass man was just having a full conversation with himself, oblivious to the world. He reported this behavior to his father later.
Batman: âThatâs normal.â
Robin!Damian: âPardon?â
Batman: âThatâs normal for Marvel. Think nothing of it.â
Anyways, fast forward six months. Billy forgot about the gift thing the Gods were talking about. Mostly because they hadnât even given him the gift. Then the time came when Billy was forced to be detransformed. All because of a stupid villainâs machine going haywire. Sivana could do better. So now, Billy was standing in front of the JL who had surrounded him in a half circle.
(Ancient Greek is in italics)
Billy: âUh⌠Hello?â *doesnât even realize heâs decked out in the Ancient Greek drip, complete with the chiton from earlier*
JL: *staring in befuddlement*
Supes: âHeâs been de-aged?â
WW: *steps forward* âBrother?â
Mercury: âOkay, Billy, stare at her for like three seconds and then be like youâre Zeusâs kin?â
Billy: *doesnât even know why heâs doing this but does the three second stare* âYouâre Zeusâ kin?â
Mercury: âYouâre my favorite champion now.â
WW: âI am. I am Diana Prince. Itâs a pleasure to meet you. What is your name?â
Solomon: âThavma is a nice choice.â
Zeus: âSo is Keraunos. Which is arguably better because it means lightning.â
Billy: âThavma, or Keraunos. Either is fine.â
Flash: *whispering to Batman* âSpooky, whatâre they saying?â
Batman: âI donât know. Iâm versed in Greek, not Ancient Greek. I can just barely make out an eighth of the words theyâre saying.â
Soon after all of this, he was taken to the Watchtower. The JL dropped him off in a rec room and assigned Robin to watch him so the team could go to a meeting room to discuss the whole ordeal.
Robin!Damian: *looking him up and down*
Billy: *can feel the judgment through Robinâs mask* âWhat is it?â
Robin!Damian: âWhat?â
Billy: âI said what is it?â
Robin!Damian: âTt. A language barrier.â
Billy: *frog blinks* âLanguage barrierâŚ?â
Solomon: âIâll just turn off the Ancient Greek for you.â
Billy: *clears his throat* âCan you understand me now?â *slight Greek accent still there*
Robin!Damian: âMore clearly. Yes.â
Billy: âCool, now what is it?â
Robin!Damian: âPardon?â
Billy: âWhat is it? I can tell youâre staring at me judgmentally through that thing on your face.â
Robin!Damian: *visibly bristles* âI am not.â
Billy: âYes, you are.â
Robin!Damian: âI am not.â
Billy: âYou are.â
Robin!Damian: âAm not.â
Billy: âYuh huh.â
Robin!Damian: âNuh uh-â *realizes he let that leave his mouth* âWhy are you acting like a child?
Billy: âI am a child.â
Robin!Damian: *stares at him for a couple moments* âThe reason I am staring at you judgmentally, is that I had previously assumed you had been born an adult.â
Billy: âWho told you that?â
Robin!Damian: âNightwing.â
Billy: *remembers heâs not supposed to know who that is* âWho?â
Robin!Damian: âHeâs someone youâll meet when youâre an adult.â
Billy: âOkayâŚ?â
*silence*
Somehow, the two ended up crawling in the vents together. You couldnât even ask Billy how it happened.
Robin!Damian: âCrawl faster.â
Billy: âIâm trying.â
They spent a while up there, crawling around, eavesdropping, stopping every now and then in the kitchen for snacks.
Robin!Damian: âThis is chocolate.â *hands him a chocolate bar*
Billy: *eyes literally shining as he looks at the bar because he rarely gets to have chocolate*
Robin!Damian: âYou open it like so.â *opens his own bar* âNow come. We must continue on the move. Back to the vents.â
This went on until the JL started to look for them.
Flash: *searching the rec room frantically because they shouldâve been here*
Robin!Damian and Billy: *descend from the vents*
Robin!Damian: âWhat do you need speedster?â
Flash: *screams*
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Spock knew he was dying. It was, he supposed, quite inevitable. In truth, he was surprised that death had not claimed him much sooner; there had been many instances throughout his life and career when it had seemed inescapable.
Now, however, it would be time that would claim him.
All told, it was a significant improvement upon his last death, trapped within the Enterprise's warp core. Though his bones ached with age, his flesh did not burn with radiation, and his vision remained quite clear. He hurt, yes, and was cold, but he was not in agony.
However...
The last time he had died, pressed up against the glass, he had not had to face it alone. Jim had been with him, as had Doctor McCoy and Mr. Scott. He had been unable to touch them - and indeed he had wanted to, had wished quite illogically for the glass to fall away and allow him to tumble into Jim's arms - but they had still been there, at his side.
He was a Vulcan, and so perhaps it should have been inconsequential, but he was old now, and sentimental.
He could not help but want.
And then, as though a breath had passed through the room, Spock sensed a change.
Suddenly, without any fanfare at all, Jim stood at his side, smiling warmly down at him. He looked just as young as he did when Spock had seen him last, before he had been swept away by the Nexus and held away from him for so many long decades. He was, thought Spock, so beautiful.
If this was an illusion, it was a welcome one.
When Jim's hands clasped his own, they felt real, somehow, soft and warm against his chilled flesh, and Spock gripped back with all the strength he could muster. Illusion though it may be, Spock would savor it.
Jim, he wanted to say, how I have missed you, but his voice was well beyond him. To even try would be an exercise in futility. Kaiidth. Perhaps it was for the best. It would not do to frighten his doctors by speaking to a hallucination.
Still, he allowed himself to look, drinking in Jim's appearance like a man parched. It had been so very long since they had been together, and Spock could find no shame in taking advantage of his situation. He was dying, and if an illusion was the only way he could have the company of his husband, he would accept it without question. It felt like Jim, and it looked like Jim, and that was enough for him.
To his other side, a light began to bloom. Sunrise. He had not expected to make it to this sunrise. Memories, long cherished, of watching alien sunrises with Jim bubbled up in his mind, and a sigh fell from his lips.
Oh, how he had missed him! And now, at his very last sunrise, Jim was back with him, hands holding his.
Yes, this was by far an improvement on his previous death.
With some effort, he turned his head towards the sun. Jim, too, turned to face it, and together they watched, as they had so very many times before. It was peaceful. Wonderful.
He did not know how long he lay there, gazing at the rising sun, Jim's hand still in his, before the change became apparent to him: breath no longer stirred in his chest, and his heart no longer beat in his side. Gone, too, was the ache of time that had so suffused him these last years.
And yet, the sun still shone before him, and Jim's hands were still warm against his own.
He blinked, wondering.
"Jim," he whispered, and the name fell with shocking ease from his lips. Cautiously, he pulled himself to a sitting position, and his form moved more smoothly than it had in many years as he turned to meet Jim's eyes once more. "Jim."
"Hello, Mister," Jim replied.
Jim beamed at him, that beloved face warm with affection. The barest hint of sadness lingered at the edges of his eyes, and Spock's hand raised almost of its own accord, brushing lightly over his cheek.
"You grieve," he murmured. "Why?"
Jim just smiled, leaning into Spock's touch. "Illogical, I know," he said, a light puff of laughter escaping his chest. "I only - well. It isn't pleasant to watch you die, peaceful though it was. And, while I'm terribly pleased to see you again, I can't help but feel sorry. Death is - quite permanent, most of the time. I'm afraid no strange Vulcan rituals will be bringing you back, this time around."
Spock understood. Gently, he threaded his fingers into Jim's hair. "I confess that I am relieved by that," he admitted, cherishing the feeling of Jim beneath his touch. "I would not wish to be taken from you once again, so soon after arriving."
Something honey-warm softened in Jim at that, his eyes alight with a deep fondness.
"You sweet talker, you," he said, squeezing gently at the hand still within his grasp. Then, something almost tentative crept into his face. "Spock," he started, eyeing him cautiously, "I know it's been... quite some time, for you. But - to say it bluntly, I still love you. If you've moved on, I'll never mention it again, but-"
Illogical, Spock thought, silencing Jim's words quite suddenly with his lips. Jim melted against him easily, and for a long moment they did nothing but kiss, breathing into one another as they traded touches. When Spock finally pulled away, Jim looked almost kiss-drunk, lips swollen and eyes besotted.
"I suppose that's my answer, then," Jim chuckled, squeezing Spock's hands again.
"Indeed," Spock replied, allowing his eyes to crinkle with some of the delight which pumped through his veins. Gently, he rubbed his nose against Jim's, then pulled back again.
"I'm glad." Jim looked at Spock for a moment, and then glanced down at the bed he still sat upon. "I'll admit, I expected you to have more questions."
"I have surmised that I am dead, and that you are here," Spock said. "Anything further seemed unimportant, for time time being."
Another huff of laughter escaped Jim. "Imminently logical, Mister Spock," he teased. Spock merely inclined his head in response.
Jim stood, and pulled Spock with him, rising from the bed. Disconcertingly, he could see his own body laid out beneath him, eyes closed in death, but then Jim leaned in to press a brief kiss to his cheek, and it was forgotten.
"Well, suffice to say, it seems there's some kind of afterlife. It might be a part of the Nexus, believe it or not." Gently, he tugged Spock along as he started walking, linking their arms together "I'm not the only one who's been waiting for you, I'll have you know," he said, an almost impish smile playing at his lips. "You'll have quite the greeting party, I'm sure. I think Bones has been saving up gripes just for you."
A smile found its way to Spock's face, and he did not try to stop it. He had Jim in his arms once again, and soon he would see their friends. But, before they could continue, Spock pulled lightly at Jim's arm, stopping him.
"Jim?" he said. "I am glad you were with me."
For a moment, Jim looked at him, clearly surprised. Then, an expression which shone like the sun spread across his face. He stepped forwards, enclosing Spock in a hug. Spock went willingly, tucking his face into the crook of Jim's neck.
"I am, too."
#my brain's been soup lately and i've hardly done a thing on my wips but apparently unification's got me going good lmao#spirk afterlife content??? sign me tf up.#i didn't realize this was going to be quite this long when i started it whoopsie. that seems to be a trend.#maybe i'll even toss this one on ao3 later.#i'll have to edit it first some probably. i didn't do that before posting it here so. if there are grammar errors uh. don't look too close.#ficlet#star trek#tos#spock#james t kirk#spirk#k/s#unification#my fic#my writing#star trek tos
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Hello! ^^
First, just wanna say your blog is amazing. Second, what kind of shenanigans do you think would ensue with the batboys having a hyper physically clingy S/O? Like their S/O would get so excited they're home and just tackle hug them before they make it past the door kind of clingy.
⯠FRIDAY IâM IN LOVE . . . ( the batboys ! )
â gn!reader, fluff
Š ahqkas â all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
BRUCE WAYNE
bruce wayne, the ever-composed patriarch of the family, would at first have no idea how to handle such enthusiasm. his s/o being hyper-physically affectionate would probably throw him completely off-balance at firstânot because he doesnât enjoy the affection but because heâs not used to being greeted like that.
( the door creaks open as bruce steps inside the manor, still half-lost in the grim report alfred had handed him earlier. before he even sets his briefcase down, a blur barrels toward him, arms wide, a gleeful shout of his name ringing through the grand hall.
he braces himself instinctively like heâs about to be tackled by a rogue metahuman. âwaitââ is all he manages before you collide with him, wrapping him in a bear hug strong enough to make his muscles tense. for a second, bruce freezes like a deer in headlights.
âmiss me?â you grin, cheek pressed to his chest as you sway him back and forth like a tree in a storm.
bruce glances down, trying to maintain the stoic facade, but his lips twitch, betraying the barest hint of amusement. âyou know, most people say hello first.â
alfred passes by with an arched brow and a muttered, âat least you donât end up unconscious, master wayne.â
he sighs, exasperated but secretly endeared. he knows by now resistance is futile. one hand rests awkwardly on your back, the other fumbling to steady the files tucked under his arm. âyouâre going to sprain something one day,â he murmurs, though thereâs a faint warmth in his tone. )
the first time you tackle-hugged him after patrol, bruises and all, bruce immediately went into âare you hurt?â mode despite being the one who should be resting. âyou canât just launch yourself at me like thatâyou could get hurt,â heâd chide, even as he gently pulls you closer to make sure youâre okay.
alfred would quietly revel in the sheer domestication of bruceâs typically aloof charge. âah, nothing like unrestrained enthusiasm to balance out your brooding, sir.â
DICK GRAYSON
dick grayson would be all in for having a hyper-physically affectionate s/o. the guy thrives on connection, and someone who matches his energyâor even outpaces itâwould not only make him laugh but also make him feel completely loved. if anything, your clingy antics would ignite a bit of playful competition as dick tries to out-affection you, though heâd absolutely let you win most of the time.
( the moment he unlocks the door after a patrol, the creak of the hinges is your signal to strike. without hesitation, you launch yourself at him like a projectile, arms wide and grinning ear to ear.
âdick!â
âwhoaâ!â he yelps, barely managing to catch you before you tackle him into the doorframe. one arm wraps around your waist while the other steadies both of you. âare you trying to kill me, orâŚ?â he teases, his voice light with laughter.
âiâm just so happy youâre home!â you say, nuzzling into his neck.
âyeah? well, i love being tackled the moment i step inside,â he says sarcastically, but the grin splitting his face is entirely genuine. âi mean, forget taking off my boots or hanging up my jacketâthis is exactly what i needed.â he spins you around for good measure, making you laugh as he carries you further inside. )
dick would absolutely take your clinginess as a challenge to see who could be more over-the-top. you tackle-hug him at the door? heâll scoop you up and spin you. you randomly leap on his back during a walk? heâll carry you piggyback all the way home. itâs basically a constant competition to outdo each other.
one time, you caught him mid-workout and tried to climb on his back during push-ups. he pretended to be annoyed but ended up laughing so hard he couldnât finish his reps. âyouâre impossible,â heâd say between laughs, letting you sit on his back as he fake-struggled to keep going.
JASON TODD
jason todd would act like he didnât know how to handle having such a clingy and affectionate s/o, but deep down, heâd secretly live for it. the guy has been through hell and back, so having someone whoâs so unapologetically excited to see him would catch him off-guard at firstâbut it would also heal a part of him he didnât know was still raw. he might grumble, roll his eyes, and mutter sarcastic quips, but the way heâd instinctively hold onto you would give away just how much he craves your affection.
( jason walks through the apartment door, shoulders tense from a long night of patrol, his helmet tucked under one arm. he barely gets two steps inside before the sound of your excited yell fills the air.
âjay!â
before he can react, youâre barreling toward him, all wild energy and open arms. âoh, shiââ the rest of his curse is cut off as you launch yourself at him, practically climbing him like a tree. he stumbles back a step, caught off-guard but reflexively wrapping his arms around you to keep you both steady.
âmissed me?â you ask with a grin, nuzzling into his neck as your legs wrap around his waist like itâs the most natural thing in the world.
jason sighs, trying to sound exasperated but failing miserably. âmiss you? you act like iâve been gone for months. i was literally out for, what, five hours?â
âtoo long,â you mumble into his shoulder, squeezing him tighter.
despite his words, you feel his shoulders relax as he hugs you back. âyouâre ridiculous, you know that?â he says softly, his voice a little rough around the edges but warm. )
jason would never stop pretending to grumble about your antics. âdo you have to tackle me every time i walk through the door? my ribs arenât exactly indestructible.â but if you ever didnât tackle him, heâd immediately notice. âwhat, no welcome-home ambush? you mad at me or something?â
he would absolutely start using your clinginess against you. if he wanted your attention, heâd dramatically throw himself onto the couch and groan, âi canât go on. i need one of your hugs to survive.â
TIM DRAKE
tim drake would initially be overwhelmed by having such a physically clingy s/o, mostly because heâs used to people respecting his personal bubbleâor just not being that excited to see him. but once he got past the initial shock, heâd secretly love it, even if he was absolutely terrible at expressing that in words. your affectionate antics would constantly fluster him, but heâd quickly become addicted to the way you made him feel wanted and cared for.
( if you interrupted tim in the middle of one of his all-nighters, the results would be like this: imagine him sitting at his desk, surrounded by coffee cups and glowing monitors, so hyper-focused that he doesnât even hear you sneaking up behind him.
suddenly, your arms wrap around his shoulders, and you rest your chin on top of his head. âhi,â you whisper, making him jump so hard he almost knocks over his coffee.
â[name]!â he hisses, spinning around to glare at you, his heart racing.
âsorry, couldnât resist,â you say with a cheeky grin, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.
tim sighs, trying to look annoyed, but the light blush creeping up his neck gives him away. âyouâre ridiculous,â he mutters, but instead of pushing you away, he pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. âif i let you stay, will you let me finish his report?â
âno promises.â )
your ambushes would frequently catch tim off-guard, leading to spilled coffee, toppled stacks of paperwork, and at least one destroyed keyboard. â[name], i love you, but youâre going to bankrupt me in tech replacements,â heâd grumble while cleaning up the latest mess.
he would eventually start using your affection as an excuse to take breaks. if you tackled him while he was working, heâd let out a long-suffering sigh and say, âfine. five minutes. but only because youâre so insistent.â cue you dragging him to the couch for cuddles while he pretends to be annoyed.
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#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne fluff#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne fic#bruce wayne imagine#bruce wayne dc#bruce wayne fanfiction#batman x you#batman x reader#dick grayson x you#dick grayson dc#dick grayson drabble#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#dick grayson headcanon#dick grayson fic#nightwing x you#nightwing x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x reader#jason todd hc#jason todd headcanon#jason todd fluff#jason todd imagine#red hood x you#red hood x reader#tim drake x you#tim drake x reader#tim drake headcanon#tim drake fic
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Hello first timer here. May I please request for The 4 LADS with a selective mute MC wherein MC finally says their names for the first time ever
Hello to my first ever request!! â*: .・. o(â§â˝âŚ)o .・.:*â Very interesting, I have never tried this one before! I did some research and hope I can do it justice ^^
HCs under the cut for Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus
Content: SFW, fluff, mild canon spoilers in Zayne's part (main storyline released thus far), reader is MC, gender neutral MC, use of petnames for MC, selective mutism (which also means a slight canon divergence), early stages of a romantic relationship, no "y/n"
Sylus's is a bit different as I think his and MC's relationship would look the most different in the early stages since there's the whole "can't resonate with you if I despite you" angle, which wouldn't at the very least be *helped* by MC's condition pfft.
If you see any mistakes contradicting the above info, or if you find this disrespectful in any way, please let me know!
LADS LIs with a selectively mute MC
Xavier
Xavier, who isn't very talkative himself, falls in sync with you quite fast after you meet. At first you are wary of his intense gaze and the extended silence it carries as he observes you from a comfortable distance. But one day, you begin to look back at him, if only out of defiance, and that's when you start noticing.
Small head movements to question or to confirm, taps on the table and later on your arm or shoulder. Text messages with lots of emojis, shared playlists for different moods. And if all else fails, a gentle squeeze of your hand, to let your Evol do the talking for you.
He has been listening all along.
In comes one of those days. The mission goes well, but you are left dead tired, barely able to make it to your apartment. Xavier escorts you home, and as he wishes you goodnight, you grab his sleeve. Whatever emotion is showing on your face is enough to make him melt, and he turns back around, petting your hair.
"Got it, got it," he chuckles and lets himself be led to the couch, where you snuggle against him after putting on a random cartoon on the TV.
He is warm, and his hoodie is soft against your cheek. You listen to his slowing heartbeats as his eyelids begin to droop, his arm a solid anchor around your shoulders. At that moment you realize that this is how you want all of your missions to end: in this safe, comforting warmth.
"Xavier?" you call out, twiddling with the pullstrings of his hoodie. He stirs against you and lets out a questioning hum. You lift your head to look him in the eyes, and see them shining with something you dare to hope is adoration. He tightens his arm around you and patiently waits.
"Thank you," you finally decide to tell him, knowing that he knows it's about much more than today's mission.
"Think nothing of it, starlight," he murmurs and rests his forehead against yours.
Zayne
You forgot that Zayne knows. Of course he knows, that man doesn't forget anything, annoying as it may be sometimes. During your first appointment with him you try to bring it up, hoping that your old familiarity with him would help ease the tension. It doesn't, and in the end you have to resort to gesturing at your chart, cheeks burning in humiliation.
"I remember," Zayne tells you, his voice quiet, "don't worry about it. Just find a way that's comfortable for you."
On a rational level, it makes sense. He is a dedicated, renowned doctor who must have had first-hand experience with others like you beforehand. But on an emotional level you are on your toes for a good while. Zayne has a tendency to scold you about your heart condition, your recklessness on missions, your bad eating and sleeping habits. You just kind of... assume that this would be next on the list.
But the insistence never comes. Instead, there is a notepad and and a pen on his desk one day. The pen has a tiny snowglobe at the end that glitters prettily when you write with it. Zayne makes no mention of it when you come in, nor when you pick the pen up and start writing.
Afterwards you take that notepad everywhere you go with him. You write down your comments to him, your observations of the world around you, your feelings that are too precious to send him over text messages. You revel in the tiny upwards curl of his lips when he reads everything over, the hint of mirth in his hazel eyes that makes your heart flutter.
"Care to show me what you have written today?" he asks you one night as he is driving you back home from a restaurant. The car is standing still in traffic, and you are finishing your notes on that night's menu selection (the chocolate pudding had been especially delicious). You lean back on the passenger seat and look at his handsome profile, smiling to yourself.
"No, but I can tell you, Dr. Zayne."
You see his eyes widen in surprise and he glances at you, but before he can reply the traffic lurches forward. Zayne returns his eyes on the road, and reaches out to grab your hand in his. He rubs his thumb over your knuckles and your stomach does small flips as you see him smile.
"I'd love that."
Rafayel
"Not one to talk? That's okay cutie, I can manage for the both of us."
And that he does. At first you aren't sure if the eccentric artist even wants or needs you to talk; Rafayel can talk circles around just about anyone, rightfully smug about his captivating voice and demeanor. You find yourself being envious of his natural charm, sure that you could hardly measure up to him in this regard.
But the more you spend time with him, the more you observe his mannerisms when he talks to you (yes, to you, not just at you): the glances over his shoulder, his body turning towards you as his hands punctuate his speech. The way he cocks his head to the side and studies your face with that easy smile on his lips, reading your expressions and hums as he does. Resting his fingertips on the pulse point of your wrist and gently tucking your hair behind your ear as you fight a petulant blush under his curious eyes.
Bodyguard, bah. You aren't sure Rafayel really knows, or cares, what that job actually entails. Then again, it's not like you had to stay, yet you did. There is something mesmerizing about Rafayel, his eyes as deep as the oceans and brilliant as the galaxies, and in between scoffing at his antics or bickering with him through texts, you find yourself being pulled in further and further as if lured by a siren song.
"Do you want to learn how to paint, sunshine?"
This time he doesn't give even the slightest pretense for the date. You have long ceased to care, feeling warm but bold standing in his studio as he guides the brush in your hand across the canvas. It's raining outside, the pitter patter mixing in with the gentle swishing of your brush and his bare feet padding against the tile floor. Time seems to fly by as you recreate the azure sea in front of you.
As the rain starts to ease down and the clouds part just enough for you to see the waves again, you step in front of the floor-length window and gaze out. As you watch swaying seas, your eyes suddenly widen.
"Rafayel, come look! Dolphins!"
You don't have time to be surprised by your own reaction as he strides next to you, his hand finding the small of your back. He leans his chin on your shoulder, and you can feel his lips curling into a smile.
"Now isn't that a nice surprise," he says, "I wouldn't mind this happening again."
You nod, the words failing you once more, but he is so close he must feel your answer in your heartbeat.
Sylus
If Sylus could take it back, he would. He would destroy planets and steal stars to redo your first meeting. He wouldn't assume anything, wouldn't take out his frustrations on you, wouldn't push and push until the truth screams in his face.
Because your eyes remain vacant of any recognition, any warmth he grew to know so long ago, and he only made it worse: he forced your voice out of your mind when your mouth refused to cooperate. He took it as defiance, a personal challenge, when it was anything but. It took an outsider to tell him to stop hounding you, and he hasn't been able to forget since.
Through what can only be described as trials you finally make it to the auction and beyond, and with Sylus's help you get your hands on the Aether Core. He does not know what you see in the vision the Deepspace Tunnel shows you, but whatever it is, it creates an opening. It lets you resonate with him, lower your guard and accept his help. And Sylus holds onto that chance like a drowning man.
From then on out, every day is dedicated to making up to you. Even if his words are rough, there is now softness lacing his features whenever he looks at you. Tenderness, the origin of which you do not recognize, and yearning that makes it hard to stay mad at him.
He may not beg for forgiveness out loud, but it is there in every question, every request, every wish.
"Will you have dinner with me tonight, sweetie?"
I'm sorry I treated you like that. I didn't realize. I should have.
"Mephisto brought you two necklaces. Show him which one you prefer."
I'm sorry I expected more than you could possibly offer. It isn't your fault you don't remember.
"Text me when you get home. The roads are slippery today."
I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable.
If you only knew how I adored you, little dove.
Your phone plays a familiar tune and you pick it up to see a video call coming from Sylus. It has become a habit of his whenever you are back in Linkon. He tells you he doesn't mind to be the one talking: he just wants to see your face.
"Hello sweetie, thank you for picking up. I called to say I'm sorry for missing our movie night. Some fool tried to blow up the armory in the north and I had to oversee the clean up."
You roll your eyes and sigh in mock exasperation. Sylus smiles back at you.
"I promise to make it up to you. Just tell me what you'd like."
"Anything we do together is fine, Sylus," you tell him and watch in mild amusement as his eyebrows raise and mouth freezes mid-sentence. "And stop... stop apologizing so much. Okay?"
It's not often the leader of Onychinus is rendered speechless, and you can't help a small giggle escaping your lips. It is your time to adore him, just for a moment.
#ask yuli to write#love and deepspace#lads#lnds#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#sylus#sylus x mc#love and deepspace zayne#lads zayne#lnds zayne#zayne#zayne x mc#love and deepspace xavier#lads xavier#lnds xavier#xavier#xavier x mc#love and deepspace rafayel#lads rafayel#lnds rafayel#rafayel#rafayel x mc#selective mutism#writing prompt#writing requests#fanfiction#love and deepspace fanfiction#lads fanfiction
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"If you give me a prompt I'll write it đ" - Aight Bet.
Danny didn't expect his sister to have a pen pal, she said it's someone from nanda Parbat?? Danny doesn't know where the Fuck that is but everytime he sees the letter that was sent(those are some fancy lookin envelopes) he could feel rancid Ectoplasm lingering around them.
Jazz has already noticed but took no caution about it, Jazz said that she had a son, her name was Talia (No Mentioned Last name) and she was a very odd woman.
Danny listened to Jazz ramble on about her new "friend", Her son Damian which her pen pal had talked about and even sent a drawing of(how fancy). Danny WOULD investigate and dig deep into it since he's the ghost king and all but jazz explicitly told him not to.
....
Meanwhile, Jazz plans to meet her 'Penpal Friend' soon. She's very excited but still cautious, The way her friend talked about her situations was... Concerning to say the least and jazz shall use her psychiatrical expertise to help her!
[Danny is very concerned, Dan is Very Concerned 2.0, Dani says "Yuri."]
-A.E. đť
(Iâm gonna change the context of your ask a little so Jazz already knows Taliaâs identity before she meets her again in person. Also, this got really long lmaooo)
Talia gave her a small nod when she saw her. She lifted her head to meet Jazzâs gaze as Jazz gave her a dazzling smile.
âHello, Talia,â Jazz said, pushing her hair behind her ears. âYou look lovely.â
Talia avoided her gaze and just hummed. She cleared her throat lightly and then said, gesturing to the hallway, âThis way.â
Jazz followed her at a set pace and said, âItâs good seeing you again. How are you? Did you enjoy the candy I shipped over?â
Talia nodded. âYes. I gave them to my son and he enjoyed them. Thank you very much.â
Jazz beamed. She did not ask the burning question in her heart. Was Talia alright? Her letters to her had become less and less frequent in the past year before the most recent message to her had been a barely disguised begging for Jazz to come see her.
Jazz didnât mind; she loved seeing Talia, who was startlingly dangerous and hauntingly beautiful, but it still worried her. Talia was a strong woman, but she wasnât invincible, even with that pool of rancid ectoplasmic bath water. (She shuddered just thinking about it. She needed to ask Danny to wipe them out before Talia could hurt herself again using them.)
âWhere are we going?â Jazz asked, glancing around. They were inside of a nice, expensive looking condo in Spain.
Talia paused in front of a door. She hesitated before she said slowly, âJazz⌠I have valued your friendship greatly. In the last few years, you have become someone very dear to me. However, as you are already aware, I am in a dangerous position in my home. I do not wish to endanger you, especially since you are a civilian. If you do not wish to take this journey with me, then⌠you should turn around now.â
Jazz chuckled. How cute that Talia thought that Jazz was a helpless civilian. However, it had been Jazz who had accidentally enforced that idea within Taliaâs mind. It was a little too late to correct that notion though, so Jazz just shook her head softly and tried to look reassuring for Talia.
âItâs too late for that.â She reached out to hold Taliaâs hand, scarred and weathered from fighting, squeezing slightly. âI will accompany you and help you however I can.â
Talia nodded again, looking away. âThank you⌠beloved.â
Jazz tilted her head curiously at the title, but did not say a word. Talia then opened the door and Jazzâs eyebrows rose as she stared at a young boy with similar features to the woman beside her. He scowled at her, but it just looked cute with his round cheeks.
Jazz turned to Talia. She already had an inkling, but she wanted to confirm. âThis isâŚ?â
âMy son,â Talia said, âHis name is Damian. And I earnestly beg you to take him in for me.â
âWhat! But mother!â Damian stood up and shouted, while Jazzâs eyebrows shot up again.
Talia gave him a light glare. She turned back to Jazz and it was cute how she had to look up at her. âMy father is increasing pressure on us, and he is training Damian even harder. If this continues, Damianâs life could be in danger. I wouldâve left him with his father, but Bruceâs lifestyle is⌠not what I want for Damian. Please, could you take him in, beloved?â
Damian shut his mouth with a click and both Al Ghuls stared at Jazz with wide eyes, one beseeching and one shocked.
Jazz smiled and reached out to hold Taliaâs hand again. It was really nice to hold, and warm too. âOf course. You donât have to worry, Talia. Like Iâve said, you can depend on me.â
Talia beamed. âThank you, beloved.â She flipped Jazzâs hand and kissed the back of it softly. Jazz blushed. It felt strangely⌠intimate? But who was Jazz to judge? Maybe it was a League of Assassins custom! Or something! She didnât get to meet Talia often, usually just exchanging weekly letters, so how would she know?
Talia turned back to Damian, still holding Jazzâs hand and said, âShe will be your new caretaker. She is very important to me and you can trust her with your life. Call her⌠mom.â
Jazz side eyed Talia, but did not dispute it. Maybe it was some sort of spy plan? Like a code name? It would make more sense when a woman and a young boy were together for them to be mother and son.
Jazz also turned to Damian and let go of Taliaâs hand to walk over to him slowly, keeping an open posture and friendly smile on her face.
Damian eyed Jazz as she approached and then knelt down respectfully before him. She smiled. âHello, Damian. Iâm Jazz, and I hope we can get along.â
Damian looked at his mother. They had some sort of silent conversation that Jazz did not understand, before Damian turned back to her. âYes⌠itâs nice to meet you too⌠mom.â
Jazz smiled. âIâll take care of you.â
Damian sniffed. âI certainly hope so.â He tried to look haughty, but he was so short compared to Jazz that it once again looked adorable and pouty.
Yep. It was official. Her siblings were going to eat him alive.
Jazz looked back at Talia, who was staring at them both with a soft expression. Strangely, the gentle look made Jazzâs stomach flutter.
Weird. Was she growing sick?
Talia blinked, noticing her gaze. âIs there something wrong, beloved?â
Jazz coughed at the nickname again. Damian eyed her like she was a walking disease and Talia just looked more and more worried. âNope! So, uh, whatâs the official plan?â
She stared at Talia, who just blinked and hummed, pursing her red, kissable lips.
Yep. Definitely sick.
(Talia: Heh! Cool, calm, and collected, with a dash of vulnerability! Iâm definitely showing my best side to my beloved, Jazz! Sheâs so much better than that emotionally constipated Bruce!
Jazz: *completely and utterly oblivious to any advances made by another woman* Wow, Talia is so pretty today too. Surely, it is normal to want to hold hands and kiss another girl because sheâs so pretty đ I wonder why she wants her kid to call me mom? đ
Damian: âŚ. Two moms? Is this my birthday?)
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#danny phantom x dc#dp x dc crossover#ask#jazz fenton#anonymous existences#ty for the ask >:3#talia al ghul#talia x jazz#cutting wit ship#damian wayne#jazz + damian duo#I hc Jazz as someone who is accidentally heteronormative lmaooo
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Eddie drunkenly calls Buck from wine night, confesses some things. On ao3 here.
Eddie calls him at 11:34 pm, and itâs a Thursday, so that means a few things. Itâs wine night, the biggest thing. Itâs wine night, at Hen and Karenâs, and he knows those start around dinner time so Eddieâs got several hours of alcohol in him. Itâs 11:34 pm and Buck got off work at 10:45, another thing, so itâs a toss up whether Eddie timed the call to when he was walking through the door (a feat possible after years of going back and forth between the station, the loft, and the Diaz house at all times of day and night) or if itâs just a drunken coincidence.
âHello,�� Buck answers the phone, dragging out the first half of the word, tossing his keys into the bowl on the counter.
âBuck,â Eddie says, voice bright and not very slurred, but heâs only said one word so far, and Buck sometimes secretly thinks he could probably say his name pretty steadily no matter the situation. Buck is pretty sure he could be all drunk or half dead and still be able to say Eddie just fine, anyway. âHello. Are you home from, did you get home from work?â
Ah, so, somewhat drunk then. âDid indeed. You still at the Wilsons?â
âDid you, uh- was there fire?â Eddie sounds like heâs trying very hard to sound normal. Buck bites his lip against a snort.
âNo fires. Just a half shift, remember. Pretty boring one, honestly.â I missed you probably isnât fair to say, Buck covered the shift of his own volition, he could have been at wine night if he really wanted. But Donovanâs sister had a baby, what was he gonna do, not let the guy meet his niece? âHope you had a better time.â
âGreat time,â Eddie says, enthusiastic. âThey had, uh, mini quiches.â
Buck grins at the empty room. âYouâre a man who loves a mini quiche.â
A few seconds of whooshy silence where Buck assumes Eddie is nodding enthusiastically. âThe- uh- they had the bacon kind. The kind, and with the- you know, thereâs spinach? Can we go to Costco?â
âSure,â Buck agrees, opening his admittedly pretty sparsely populated fridge. âCould use a grocery run.â
âAnd get the, get more quiches?â
Buck grabs a protein bar, smiling as fondly as he wants to with no one around to see him. âYeah, Eds, weâll get more quiches.â
âAnd youâll take the spinach ones? And I get the good ones?â
Buck laughs. âThe spinach ones are good. You can barely even taste the spinach, theyâre just, like, warm and eggy.â
âMmm,â Eddie says, doubtfully. âItâs not nice to lie, Buckley.â
âIâm not fucking lying,â Buck cackles. âYour spinach hatred is so unfair, whatâd it ever do to you?â
âTaste bad,â Eddie says, adding a blegh sound for emphasis. âItâs like- like- itâs gross, I donât believe you actually like it, actually. You just want to eat grown up food.â
Buck snorts. âMan, I hate to break it to you, we both turn 34 this year.â
âAnd I donât feel like I have to prove that to anybody by eating nasty food,â Eddie says, nose definitely in the air. Buck shakes his head and takes a bite of the protein bar.
âWhatever, man. You just have to live with the fact that Chris is the one sneaking vegetables into your food.â
âYouâre so mean. Iâm not letting you have any of my actually good quiches.â Empty threat, they always end up sharing, both of them know it. âThatâs not even what I called about. Thatâs not even-â Eddie huffs so hard it sounds all crackly in Buckâs ear. âI called to tell you that I love you.â
Buck grins. Oh boy, affectionate drunk Eddie is here. Heâd wondered just how much wine theyâd got through and it seems like Eddie must be nearly a bottle in. âAw, love you too, bud.â
âNo,â Eddie says, and Buck can see the frown from here. âBuck. Listen. Iâm in love with you.â
Oh. God. Oh god. âUh-â Buck says, stomach swooping all over the fucking place, âUh- I donât think this is a conversation we should be having while youâre-â
âOh, fuck off, shut up. Shut up. Itâs fine.â
âEddie-â
âBuck,â Eddie says, in the annoyed voice he uses when Buck is trying to get him to eat yogurt with his fruit in the morning, or even a dastardly spinach quiche. âItâs fine. Itâs fine. I knew youâd- why- stop it. Listen. I feel like this all the time. Itâs stupid that Iâve never, like, I never just say this all the time. Youâre, like-â
Eddie cuts himself off and Buck waits â sort of fearfully â for him to continue, but the silence keeps stretching on. Buck knows the other side effect of this level on the Eddie Diaz Drunkenness Scale is heightened distractibility, so he probably noticed a nice color or perhaps a bug. They spent a good twenty minutes hanging out with a grasshopper at Hen and Karenâs wedding towards the end of the night, because it was a lovely shade of green and a funny little guy. Oh god, Buck thinks again. I love this man. I love this man a ridiculous amount and we should absolutely wait to talk about it.
But: âYouâre tall and youâre in my house,â Eddie says before Buck can do anything to stop him.
âIâm-â Buck glances around the loft. âEds, Iâm at my place.â
âWhat?â He sounds so indignant that Buck has to cover his mouth to hold a laugh in. âWhy?â
ââCause I live here?â
âThatâs stupid. You should live with me in my house.â
âShould I?â Buck asks, laugh escaping a little bit. âAlso, wait, what does me being tall have to do with it?â
Eddie sighs, long and exasperated. âIf you live with me you never have to go home and leave me because youâre already at my house. Your house. If you live with me you never have to go anywhere.â
âNever have to go anywhere?â Buck thinks heâs in shock, maybe, about all of this, but teasing Eddie is something thatâs always easy to fall into. âI donât have a job in this scenario?â
âWell youâd go to work. And other places. But you just come back to me all the time.â
âIâd like to come back to you all the time,â Buck says, choking a little on how simply it explains every ache in him. âEddie-â
âAnd youâre tall because⌠it matters because youâre tall becauseâŚâ Eddieâs voice is soft, his breathing is soft. Buck wonders where he is in Hen and Karenâs house. In a hallway, tucked away from everyone, the nice light from the stained glass lamp they have there warm on his face? On the back porch, out in the cool night air? Buck wants to tell him to come home, wants to make sure heâs warm. âI never had to look up at anybody before.â
âIâve got like two inches on you,â Buck replies, but his voice is pretty quiet.
âItâs a big two inches,â Eddie says, just as soft. Then, also quiet but of an entirely different flavor, âThat's- Sorry- that's what she said.â
âThat's-â Buck snorts. âWhat-â and then giddy laughter bursts up out of him, baking soda and vinegar, foamy and ticklish. He cackles till heâs breathless, listening to Eddieâs responding chuckles over the line, and sinks down to the floor, back against the kitchen island. âYouâre so fucking stupid.â
âI scored better on my certification exams than you.â
âThatâs not even true!â Buck protests over Eddieâs continuing laughter. âOnly in two categories!â
âOverall percentage was higher!â Eddie reminds him, as he does every time they have this argument.
âWell, I remember building construction and related hazards better than you and thatâs written down on official paper somewhere.â
âNot fair,â Eddie says, as he always says. âYou- you did- you built those. Unfair advantage.â
âI think youâre overselling the kind of experience I got in a few months working construction like a decade ago.â
âIt wasnât a decade when you took the tests,â Eddie points out. âWhatever. Nevermind. And I donât want to sound like- youâre good at remembering things. Youâre not stupid. I donât want to sound like you are.â
Buck taps his boot against the sink counter in front of him. âI know. Youâre not either.â
âI know,â Eddie says, soft again. âBut your hands are big, and⌠youâve got stubble sometimes, andâŚâ he trails off into just breathing on the other end of the line for several long moments. âBuck,â Eddie whispers in sleepover voice. âHave you ever kissed a boy before?â
âYeah,â Buck says, knowing Eddie knows this, but playing along anyway. âI have.â
âWhat's it like?â
Buck hums, closes his eyes. He thinks about the few guys heâd made out with but never followed home when he got to Los Angeles. Thinks about the room heâd crashed in with Connor in Peru, with itâs one mattress and both their clothes living in suitcases because they were too broke to buy any other furniture. Heâs still got a t-shirt for a school he never went to, a few sizes too small. The way they hadnât shared a room once they were in LA, the girls Connor started seeing. He thinks about John from the ranch who left town the next day. He thinks about high school, Len McGuinty under the bleachers in the summer before senior year, both of them giggling and half terrified and the way theyâd pretended to barely know each other when school started back up. Hard jawlines and stubble and muscles and height. Having something, for however long you get to have it. Wanting something, very badly. He opens his eyes and itâs almost a surprise that heâs still in the loft. That heâs not at Eddieâs house. All the time in the world there wouldnât be enough. âItâs good, Eddie. It feels good.â
âBuck,â Eddie breathes, shivery.
âI want to live in your home all the time, and never have to go anywhere,â Buck says, repeats. âIâll kiss you, if you want.â
âBuck-â
âIâll love you, if you want.â Eddie is still drunk, Buck tries to remind himself. But it might actually kill him not to say it out loud when Eddie had said he feels like this all the time. How could he not say he feels like this all the time, too? âIâll love you back. I love you back. Iâll eat all the spinach quiches for you.â
âBuck,â Eddie says, and Buck doesnât know what expression is on his face, doesnât know what look is tied to this tone of voice. Is desperate to find out. Quiet down the line for a few moments. And then: âItâs late.â
Buck pulls his phone away from his ear for a second to check the time. Nearly midnight. âYeah.â His hands feel clammy. It was too much. They should have waited to talk. Eddie wants out now, and thatâs fine. Buck will âsomehow, skin of his teeth â find a way to be fine with that.
But: âI want to go home,â Eddie says. âBuck. Come and take me home.â
âAnd then-â
âAnd then stay.â
âOkay,â Buck gets to his feet, tosses the half eaten bar in the trash. Eddieâs house has food. His home has things to eat.
âOkay,â Eddie says, confident now, everything decided, everything for sure. âIâll see you soon.
âMinutes,â Buck says, grabbing his keys, half running to the door. âIâll be there in minutes.â
âMinutes,â Eddie says back. And Buck can hear his smile.
#my writing#your lives are spared from buck mcd a little longer#man i started writing this before bi buck was a real thing!! thats crazy!! heâs bi for real now and has kissed a real dude!#slowly. slowly. one day. i will do all the prompts from that soft prompts list. i should probably post the ones I havenât done again#let you guys send requests in#i think i might actually still have some in my inbox but again. from like a full calendar year ago#so Iâll give you another opportunity
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Could I have request for first year? You can choose them. About reader inviting to go out with them? Anything, probably going to park or go to restaurant. I'm a sucker for romance.
inviting the first years on a date â§ď˝Ľďž
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Hello anon! I am so sorry this took me so long. I write fics with every character/scenario so doing the whole set of first years was a lot of fics, a lot of words. I hope each one is good! I love the first years, especially my boys Epel, Ortho, and Deuce! ^^
Thank you for requesting and feel free to request again!!
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Summary:Â The reader asks the first years to go on a date. Includes all first years for headcanons and scenarios. This means that it includes: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Ortho Shroud, and Sebek Zigvolt.
TW/CW:Â None
Notes:Â established relationship, the reader is Yuu/Ramshackle Prefect, they/them pronouns used for the reader, the reader is also a first-year/frosh (implied ~16ish)
Guest Stars:Â Leona Kingscholar, Idia Shroud, Trey Clover, Rook Hunt, Malleus Draconia
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â§ď˝Ľďž: â§ď˝Ľďž: â§ď˝Ľďž: â§ď˝Ľďž: â§ď˝Ľďž: â§ď˝Ľďž: â§ď˝Ľďž: â§ď˝Ľďž:
Ace Trappola
Ace agrees right off the bat. He doesn't bat an eye.
He's even a little miffed [Name] asked him first.
He was planning to ask [Name] out, you know!
But it doesn't matter, the date's happening either way :)
Ace suggests that he and [Name] sneak out.
Something about not wanting to deal with the housewardens.
Even if [Name] protests, Ace will insist on sneaking about.
It's not a good idea but Ace had it so... it's impulsive.
"Come on, [Nickname]," Ace whispered to [Name], "You're gonna get us caught. You want to go on a date or not?"
Trying to make as little sound as possible, Ace came back towards [Name] to help them untangle themself from an unfortunately placed bush that had snagged their clothing. He held an index finger to his lips as he shushed them once more.
He still couldn't believe they asked him out first. The gall.
"If you want to go out at night like this," he continued, "Then you need to get better at sneaking around. Want to get collared?"
"I'm not part of your dorm," [Name] whispered back.
"That doesn't save you anything."
[Name] was about to retort but paused to consider it.
"Yeah," they agreed with a laugh, you're right."
Ace sighed. They were going to make this difficult, huh? If they got caught then what was it all for. Caught before they could even go on the date? That's just... kind of sad.
"Shh! No laughing until we're away from the main building."
"Fine, fine," they agreed, "We'd better not get detention for this."
The last time they had gone with an "Ace Plan" it had caused a week's worth of detention for both of them. The professors did not take kindly to Ace's schemes. They seemed almost disappointed that [Name] was involved with it too, but that didn't spare [Name] from detention.
"Relax, you worry too much. What are you, Deuce?"
[Name] laughed again and Ace covered their mouth with his hand. They moved his hand away a second later to respond.
"I like to think I've got more guts than Deuce."
"Good, then act like it," Ace told them, leading them toward the school gates, "We're gonna have an adventure tonight."
[Name] gave Ace a look. What was he talking about? Going out to the city after dark was their idea for a date. Why was Ace talking big?
"Wasn't this date my idea?" they asked him.
"Yeah, but I can't let you upstage me all the time." Ace smiled at them as he spoke, "I'm gonna get you back for that tenfold."
"For what?"
"Doesn't matter," he responded, taking their hand in his, "Let's go!"
They really loved this guy, even if it meant all the detentions and magic-removing collars in the world. Smiling along with him, [Name] squeezed Ace's hand as they let him lead their way.
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Deuce Spade
Deuce swears in front of [Name].
"Holy shit."
And then he covers his mouth right after, begging to do it over.
He didn't mean to say it, it was just his instinctual thought!!
Deuce's brain is composed of a long list of curse words and a perpetual fear of being expelled from Night Raven (again).
He tells [Name] that he would be glad to go on a date with them.
Deuce confides that he hasn't been on a date before because of his past in which he thought he was too much of a "bad boy" for that.
He's oddly excited about the date, in a way that makes him seem younger than he already is at sixteen.
Unlike Ace (previous scenario), Deuce thinks that he should ask his upperclassman, so he seeks out Trey in the kitchen.
Deuce, face burning red, led [Name] by hand through the halls of Heartslabyul Dorm. They were headed toward the kitchen to find the bespectacled man who would (hopefully) grant them permission to go on their date. Or, that was about how Deuce explained it and [Name] was just in for the ride now that Deuce had apparently broken some kind of honor student's vow by swearing in front of them.
"Please tell me you're not asking for Trey-san's blessing."
"What?" Deuce turned to look at them, "No! We need to ask permission if we want to go into town."
"We're going into town?" [Name] asked him.
This was far more than they had planned. Deuce nodded. If they were going on a date, a real date, Deuce wanted it to count. And from all the varying media he had consumed in his young life... going on a date meant going into town and doing... Uh. Cute couple-y things.
"I want this to be perfect," Deuce confessed, clearly trying to be cool but failing due to the redness of his cheeks, "You know?"
[Name] nodded.
"Right, perfect, yeah," they agreed.
The two arrived at the doorway into the kitchen of Heartslabyul.
"Clover-senpai?" Deuce asked, poking his head in to see Trey at work mixing some kind of batter, "Do you have a minute?"
[Name] poked in after Deuce, smiling at the smell of sugar from Trey's baking. They hoped they might get some of whatever it was.
"Hm? A minute or two, sure," Trey offered, smiling as he looked toward them, "What's up?"
"Uh," Deuce began, "[Name] and I..."
"[Name] and you...?"
"We were wondering if we could go on a date?"
"I mean, that seems like your decision, not mine," Trey said, teasing the boy for his phrasing just a bit, "But I assume you mean going into town?"
"Ah. Yes!"
Deuce nodded, trying to hide the fact that the redness that had faded was back in full bloom. [Name] felt a bit bad for him and decided to help.
"We wanted to make sure it was alright to go off campus," [Name] added, "Don't want to break any rules. So we came to ask you."
Trey just laughed softly at the two of them.
"It's fine with me, I'll let Riddle know," he told Deuce and [Name], "I assume you'd rather not write the essay to him yourselves."
Deuce nodded once more, looking at [Name] and urging them to nod too. Writing an essay for Riddle was never a fun task. It took more time to write the stupid essay than to do the thing you were writing the essay about.
"Thank you, Clover-senpai," Deuce said, bowing to him.
"Mhm! Thanks, Trey!" [Name] agreed as they mimicked Deuce's action.
Trey smiled at the two underclassmen of his.
"Heh, you two have fun."
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Jack Howl
Jack is at a loss for words. [Name] wants to go on a date with him?
What is the protocol here?
Part of him wants to ask Leona as an upperclassman...
But then the other guys will laugh at him!!! :(
He nods slowly, face tinged a red slightly.
He agrees to the date and says it would be rude to say "no."
Despite the somewhat gruff answer, his tail is wagging.
If it's pointed out, he will flat-out deny it as it wags faster.
Jack would rather die than let the other guys tease him about his date but God does not favor dogboys today.
In the end though... Leona is a smart guy...
Jack wasn't sure what to do. What do you do when you're asked on a date by the person you like? Do you say "yes"? He wanted to panic, just a tad. This was beyond his typical day, not something that he was used to. Did he have anywhere to turn for advice?
He could ask Leona... No, then Ruggie would laugh at him.
The wolf sighed, composing himself as he turned back to [Name].
"Uh, sure. I'll go with you," he told them.
That wasn't what he wanted to say but that sure was what he said. He had wanted to seem happier about it but his tone wouldn't allow it. Jack found that it was hard to sound how he was feeling. How did the actors in those movies do it? He couldn't express how he was feeling, how could he do that with another person's feelings?
[Name] had just smiled and him and told him they were looking forward to it before they took their leave. What did he do now? Jack was sure there was more to this whole dating business...
But where to start...
"Leona-senpai," Jack said, finding himself in the botanical garden later that same day, "Do you think that people can understand you from a sentence?"
The lion was sleeping or rather he was trying to while Jack asked him questions. It was luck that Jack had been asked to fetch something from the garden for class.
"What?" Leona offered, opening an eye to look at Jack, "Jack, I have no idea what in the fuck you're on about."
"Do you think [Name] understood me?" Jack asked.
"I mean if they're still going on the date, probably," Leona said, closing his eyes with a sigh, "This is one of those things time will tell or whatever. Just go on the date and see what happens."
"You sure?"
"I am. So stop asking me how [Name] feels and get back to class. You need it."
Jack tried to ignore that obvious snub from a guy who was skipping most of his classes on any given day. But... Leona was right. He had to go on this date and see what became of his relationship with [Name] from there. "...Thanks."
"Whatever, can you go now?"
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Epel Felmier
Epel's first comment is that he would love to go on an outing.
He isn't embarrassed and doesn't think it's a "date" at first.
When [Name] clarifies that it is a date, Epel blushes.
"Ah? Well, if ya want to go somewhere with me, let's do it!"
Even though he feels a bit shy about it, he's still enthusiastic.
Depending on the outing, his energy may return during the date.
Epel thanks [Name] for giving him an out from Vil's makeup lessons. He didn't want to learn about blending properly today.
Mentioning his housewarden he realizes he'll need permission.
Epel asks [Name] if they will help him ask Rook about it.
Epel sighed softly as he came to the realization that as a first year, he would need permission to leave the campus for their date in the mountains. There were only two people to be asked: Housewarden Vil Schoenheit... Or Vice Housewarden Rook Hunt.
"Let's ask Rook-senpai," Epel told [Name], who nodded, "I don't think Vil-senpai would take kindly to me asking him to go into the mountains instead of learn a..."
Epel counted something on his fingers for a moment, hoping that [Name] couldn't see the redness on his cheeks that had yet to fade.
"A... 45-step makeup routine."
Epel looked disgusted at the prospect of the "lesson" and [Name] fought back the urge to laugh at the cute pout on the boy's face.
"That is a lot of steps," [Name] agreed, "Where is Rook-san?"
"Watching..." came Epel's answer, "He usually does the finding."
That was a true statement. Rook usually stumbled across Epel. The use of the phrase "stumble across" is largely for the sound of it as Rook always had eyes on Epel. It was an order from their Queen, after all. He couldn't allow himself to come across the lavender-haired boy by chance, Rook needed to keep a focus on his prey beloved underclassman.
"Hmm, so how do we find him?" [Name] asked which earned a sigh from Epel, "Epel?"
"ROOK-SENPAI! I HAVE A QUESTION!" Epel shouted into the front garden of Pomefiore.
From thin air, Rook Hunt appeared next to Epel and the boy nearly jumped out of his skin despite being the one who had called out to Rook. [Name] was so surprised their scream was silent as their hand flew to their chest in startlement.
"Bonjour, Monsieur Pommette!" Rook greeted with a grin.
"Hi..." Epel said after catching his breath, "Rook-senpai..."
"Did you need something?~" Rook asked, a knowing look crossing his features, "Or were you in need of our Queen, the most Beautiful Vil?"
"No, no! Just you is more than enough, I mean... I needed to ask you somethin' if you have time?" Epel said, the sentence only barely flowing properly.
He wanted to ask the question but his mind worked faster than his lips could parse. The resulting sentence left much to be desired.
"Oh?"
Rook awaited the question.
"I want to go into the mountains with [Name] this weekend," Epel said, "Do I have your, uhm, permission to do that?"
The blond seemed to ponder this for a moment as Epel stood there staring. It was all up to Rook if he was allowed to have his first relationship. He wanted to. Epel wanted this part of a school experience too...
But Vil might not approve, and Rook was loyal to him.
Epel glanced at [Name] for a moment.
Would they be angry if Rook made him say "no"?
"Ah, merveilleux!" Rook spoke, surprising both [Name] and Epel out of their personal thoughts, "Chase after love as I do, Epel!"
What?
Epel didn't know what that meant. Well, he thought it might be approval, but with Rook, one could never tell. So he asked.
"...Uhm. Is that a yes?"
"Oui."
Epel couldn't fight the urge and pumped his fist in the air before composing himself as quickly as he could. Vil didn't see that, Vil wouldn't know... Unless Rook told him. Worries for later.
"Well, I'll see you this weekend, [Name]," Epel told them with a laugh and a sweet smile, "Let's make this one count."
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Ortho Shroud
[Name] asks Ortho if he would like to see a movie.
Ortho says that he would love to go out with a friend.
He needs to ask his brother if he can go out with you.
[Name] makes a joke that if Ortho were older and perhaps not a robot/android it could be like a "date" for the two of them.
Ortho laughs and agrees that if it were Idia, it would be.
He knows about dates from Idia's visual novel collection and the internet (remember how he has access to the entire web?)
The two decide to prank Idia and tell him it IS a date.
Ortho argues that Idia needs to be surprised once in a while or he would just only play video games and hide in his dorm room.
Idia has a near heart attack over "Ortho's first date."
Ortho is unembarrassed by the question and excited to go!
He doesn't understand what might be embarrassing about an outing with the Prefect. It's not like it's a real date or anything.
Ortho laughed at [Name]'s baffled expression. They seemed shocked that he had agreed. Had they expected some other outcome?
"What? Did you expect me to say no?" the synthetic human asked them, coming just a bit closer, "I'll have you know I like spending time with you too! It's nice to have friends to go places with."
[Name] stuttered out stray sounds for a moment before they were able to phrase anything that was understandable language.
"I just thought you'd be busy since you're always with Idia-san."
"Hehe, my brother does keep me pretty busy," Ortho agreed before pausing, "Oh, that reminds me!"
[Name] looked at Ortho as he spoke.
"We need to ask my brother if I can go with you."
Ortho explained this as if it were obvious and [Name] supposed it was a natural source of events.
"Right now?"
In response to [Name]'s question, Ortho nodded.
"It would be best to do it sooner rather than later."
"Ah, alright!" [Name] replied.
They had expected Idia's consent would be somewhere in the steps it took to ask Ortho on an outing. Hopefully, this won't be too much of a hassle, they thought. The last thing they needed was more chaos.
"Follow me, [Full Name]-san!" Ortho cheered, floating off to guide [Name] from the hallway to the mirror that entered Ignihyde's dormitory.
It was a different kind of dorm, [Name] supposed. Ignihyde did not look anything like the other dorms. Though each dorm was unique, Ignihyde looked from a different time period with some of its elements. [Name] was used to it, though. This was not their first nor last time in this dormitory, however, it was their first time traveling to Idia and Ortho's bedroom.
Without knocking, Ortho opened the door. Before them was Idia Shroud dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants while he seemed to be typing one of the longest comments [Name] had ever seen (though they couldn't make out what it said).
"Nii-san!" Ortho called out, making Idia prickle, "I need to ask you something!"
"WHAT?" came a louder-than-normal exclamation from the blue-haired boy, "I mean... Oh, Ortho... Yeah?"
"[Full Name]-san asked me to go to a movie with them this weekend. Am I allowed to go with them?" Ortho asked with a smile, speaking as though it was the most basic question in the world.
In reality, it was a fairly simple question, but not for Idia. The Ignihyde Housewarden froze, feeling the shock of the comment strike him to his core. Idia lunged forward and took Ortho by the shoulders.
"They asked you out on a date?" Idia asked him.
"They want to go to the moviesâ"
Ortho did not get to finish his sentence.
"A DATE, ORTHO?" Idia continued, louder, ignoring [Name]'s presence intentionally or not as he put Sebek's typical volume to shame.
"We're going to the moviesâ"
Ortho once again did not get to finish his sentence.
"This is just like the new anime I've been watching, but you're so... You're too young to be experiencing a shoujo anime!"
"Nii-san..." Ortho tried to reason with his older brother.
"Idia-san..." [Name]'s tone mirrored Ortho's.
"Fine, fine. I can't, like, be the opposition. That would be so uncool of me if I were to ruin the interaction between the ML and his love interest," Idia decided.
In the end, Ortho and [Name] never did get to clarify the categorization of their outing with Idia. They supposed he would just get to think whatever it was he thought until it was out of his system.
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Sebek Zigvolt
Sebek tries to refuse as he is "busy" with his work as a guard.
Malleus needs him, is his primary argument.
Sadly Malleus is quick to disprove this theory.
Sebek gawks as his master instructs him to participate in the human custom of a "date" to better his homeland.
Sebek is too offended at first to be embarrassed...
But then it sets in and his face is such a bright red it makes his hair look a bit silly with its green color.
He stutters and is unable to talk to [Name] for a minute or so.
He settles on nodding while this happens
In the end, he yells as per usual "OF COURSE I WILL ACCOMPANY YOU AS YOU CLEARLY NEED A GUARD."
Never a quiet moment with this one.
Sebek wasn't sure what to make of the words the human uttered. They wanted him to do what? That seemed highly inappropriate. Did he need to refuse this offer? He did think it was somewhat tempting, though. He did not hate this human. They were... not as irritating at the other humans at Night Raven College.
"Human," Sebek began, "I am afraid that I must refuse this invitation as I.. cannot forsake my role as a guard to Waka-sama."
He watched as their expression fell even if only slightly.
"Ah, alright then..." they managed to say before an awe-inspiring presence interrupted them.
"Sebek," Malleus spoke, his voice causing Sebek to straighten up more than he had been before the arrival of his master, "What is going on here, exactly?"
"W-Waka-sama," the halfling spoke, stuttering the first bit of his sentence from the surprise, "I was just alerting this human that I cannot leave your side for a... a 'date' of some kind."
Malleus raised an eyebrow.
So this was what it was about.
"And why can you not accompany this child of man?"
[Name] perked up at a mention of them as Sebek fumbled for an answer for the prince.
"Well, you see, I am your guard, after all..." he began, but Sebek soon fell silent under a piercing glare from Malleus.
"Sebek," the fae prince spoke in a low tone, "Will you do something for me?"
"Yes? Yes, of course, sir!"
"Guard this human on the date they have planned, this is imperative to Briar Valley."
Sebek's posture tensed even more at the order as he bowed to Malleus. [Name] stood there baffled by the sight of it all.
"AH! Of course, Waka-sama! Whatever you desire!"
Though Sebek did not notice it, [Name] could have sworn they saw Malleus smirk at the outcome. Had he done this with the intent to help them? They supposed they could always ask him about it later.
"So you can come with me?" [Name] asked Sebek a moment later.
"OF COURSE I WILL ACCOMPANY YOU AS YOU CLEARLY NEED A GUARD."
[Name] just laughed. The answer was... very Sebek.
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Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^
#epel felmier#jack howl#sebek zigvolt#deuce spade#disney twst#twisted wonderland#twst#x reader#epel felmier x reader#jack howl x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#deuce spade x reader#ortho shroud x reader#ace trappola x reader#gender neutral reader#reader insert#twst x reader#twst fanfic#twst headcanons#imagines#twisted wonderland imagines#guest starring: idia shroud#guest starring: trey clover#guest starring: leona kingscholar#twst yuu#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twisted wonderland#guest starring: rook hunt#guest starring: malleus draconia#kiyo cant write twst
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childhood sweetheart material
oh my god!!! it's finally here, i made sure to change the posting settings this time!! i know it's not a bakery request but i've been writing them and i have a bunch in my drafts, i've got my sister editing them for me and hopefully one will be out soon... but for now enjoy my lovely's <3
pairing; carlos sainz jr x childhood best friend viviana martinez [original character]
blurb; this is a list of cute things childhood friend turned husband carlos sainz jr and his childhood friend turned wife viviana martinez do in my smau series that i'm working on called since we were eighteen, this story features a original character but for your reading pleasure, i've used 'you' and 'y/n' in this little snippet <3
currently playing; everything has changed by taylor swift ft ed sheeran "cause all i know is we said, "hello" and your eyes look like comin' home, all i know is a simple name and everything has changed, all i know is you held the door, you'll be mine and i'll be yours, all i know since yesterday is everything has changed"
from day one, you were the one;
your families have been friends for the longest time and while carlos was born a few years before you, you've been friends since you could babble at eachother
carlos can in fact still remember meeting you for the very first time, how tiny you were and his mother still has the photo of three year old carlos kissing your forehead but her personal favorite was one of you two falling asleep on eachother in the backseat of a car when she was dropping you off after a play-date
and so the years kept passing;
as years go by, you and carlos slowly begin to drift apart pursuing different careers and life goals, you knew from a young a age that you loved carlos but didn't realize it was in the romantic way until far later in life
during your teenage years, your parents thought you two were dating and no matter how much your denied it, they never believed you but that was probably due to the platonic to you both kisses you would place on eachothers cheeks or foreheads
when you were nineteen and about to move away and not see carlos for the next four to five years, not that you knew that at the time, you'd begged him to be your first time, it was one of those cliche moments of not wanting to go to college a virgin but he turned you down, saying he didn't want to ruin what you had, what a joke that seemed like now
when you two were young, around the ages of fourteen and eleven, you joked about marrying eachother one day, you even made a contract about how if you were still single after you'd turned twenty two that you'd tie the knot with eachother but as you grew apart, that contract was long forgotten about
coming back to eachother;
you found eachother again at a family reunion, you'd arrived early and got talking with his mother, catching up about life when she brought out old photo albums and low and behold at the back of the album was a paper or contract that you'd long forgotten had existed
you'd been sipping a drink in the garden when you heard the familiar voice, you'd gotten to talking when the topic of relationships came up and you discovered the both of you were single
you joked about tying the knot but he joked back about taking him to dinner first, which you did for giggles but you just fell in love with talking to eachother and began to meet up more often which eventually led to confessed feelings that had been hidden for too long, this left the rest as history
telling your families;
you were both nervous to say the least, your parents had been friends since they themselves were children, little did either of you know both of your sisters had already started to notice the change between you, the little stares and stolen glances but they had noticed it too late.. about three years too late in fact
the two of you had been planning to tell them sooner but you didn't want to give them false hope in case you broke up but you began to like the privacy and how it was just the two of you and before you knew, the two of you were approaching your three year anniversary
it was actually at your anniversary dinner that carlos proposed, you had both just stepped off a twelve hour flight and decided that instead of going out you'd get pizza
carlos thought there would be no better time than when you both sat on the couch eating pizza in comfy clothes to propose, you however almost lost it, you knew your answer was yes but instead of saying the first words out of your mouth were "you let me do this sweatpants" [if you've seen this video, i love you]
it was a week later at the traditional joint family dinner when everyone found out, your younger sister basically screaming her head off when she saw the ring on your finger as you reached for your wine glass
"what is that!" she squealed to which you winced in return and carlos chuckled, your mother looked betrayed as she too just now noticed the ring adorning your finger "when did that happen, i didn't even know you were seeing someone" she asked flabbergasted.
"does this mean you and carlos aren't together" your youngest sister had asked, she was only ten but loved carlos so much, you and carlos shared a knowing look before he shrugged his shoulders and leaned over to kiss you... that set off a frenzy among your family members
when it comes to work;
you work as an actress in horror / thriller films but you absolutely hate being scared, your the biggest wuss carlos knows but his favorite thing about your job is that he has a video on his phone of when one of your cast-mates scared the shit out of you and you screamed like the scream queen that you are
you often come home from set covered in fake blood to which carlos can't help but panic every time thinking your injured before he catches his breath and then helps you wipe it all off but not without you covering him in fake blood first
carlos quite often comes to your photo-shoots and one time the photographer wasn't happy with how the photos were working out, said that their was no real chemistry between you and the male model you had been working with and so he called a break during which you hung out with carlos, sitting in his lap and just enjoying eachothers company when the photographer caught sight of you both and it was like a light bulb went off in his head, that was the birth of the photo you had forever pinned to your instagram account
carlos always insisted on watching your movies, no matter how often you told him he didn't need to you would still come home to find him curled up on the couch with pinon as he pointed and mumbled "there's our girl" in his rough tired voice
your not afraid to show your support to carlos at his races either, attending as a long lost but now returned childhood friend at first but then eventually as his girlfriend and then wife but nobody knew that
while lando was basically carlos's best friend, to you he was your paddock child and you never let him forget it either
one of carlos's favorite things about your job was getting to see you in the gorgeous red carpet dresses, you would always show him and if he happened to be off racing, you'd facetime him instead, he loved being able to zip them up and feel your warm skin as he did it, his favorite dress was this one:
you were honestly carlos's biggest fan and without both his and his fans knowledge, you'd started an account on instagram where you posted the most outrageous things about him like this: which is one of your more tame posts btw
whenever carlos wins a race, gets on the podium or just no matter what place he gets, your wrapping your arms around him as soon as you can and whispering in his ear "i'm so proud of you mi sol"
kisses + cuddles;
there's different kinds of cuddles when it comes to yours and carlos's relationship, these include;
straddled cuddles were your sitting in his lap and wrapped around him, there is nothing sexual about it, just the two of you enjoying eachothers company
hugs from behind no matter where you are, in the motor-home or even the supermarket, carlos just likes to be holding you
and your personal favorite is when he's so exhausted and turns into the little spoon
and finally there's just this;
and then there's all the different kinds of kisses you two share
there's shoulder kisses most of which occur when carlos is hugging you from behind but they also happen in the early morning when carlos is awake and your still asleep but he just feels the need to kiss you in some way
thigh kisses, he loves to kiss your thighs and not just in the sexual way which he does indeed enjoy giving you but it also happens when he's laying in your hold with his head half in your lap and half resting on your legs
then there's the tippy toe kisses, the height difference between you and carlos was adorable but you often have to either stand on your tip toes or wear heels in order just to kiss him
then there's the kisses that you place all over his face after race cause no matter what place he comes, your always so happy for him and just need him to know how much you love him
then there's the kisses you have to tug at his shirt in order to give to him
there's the one where your kissing in bed, not in a sexual way but the 'i've missed you' loving way that has you rolling around and giggling, never wanting the kisses to end
and finally there's the kisses that both of you moaning in-between, it's these ones that normally led to your sexual encounters with eachother
touches and intimate moments;
you two have a habit of one of you two laying in bed, watching the other change in the morning or after a shower, you once said you trusted no one like how you trusted carlos and that's why you let him watch you change
then there's the times when either of you come home either from work or a race, so you sit behind eachother and gently massage the others shoulders
if your ever in the way which carlos says that you never are, he'll hook his fingers into your belt loops and gently scoot you out the way
carlos is the kind of boyfriend where if your too tired to move at the end of the day or after an event, he'll sit and gently wash your makeup from your face while your falling asleep
during the races that happen in colder countries, your often caught on camera pulling carlos close to hug him in order to warm up
your also often caught on camera walking through the paddock together with carlos's hand tucked into the back pocket of your jeans if you happen to be wearing them
and then one of your favorite things about your relationship was taking baths with carlos after a long day, feeling his body pressing against your own just brought you a sense of comfort and peace
dates [of sorts];
one of your favorite dates or even just times that you spend together is having pancake wars; where you two always try to one up eachother with your pancake recipes
whenever you guys go out for dinner, carlos always makes sure to give you the first bite of his food just in case you want to switch meals like you sometimes did
you would also often bring him lunch and end half the time end up staying so that you could eat together
he'll also sit and read you poetry late at night from your favorite poetry books
whenever you guys stay home and have date night in, carlos will often hover over your shoulder and wait to taste test the meal your cooking
then there are the museum dates you guys go on, art museums in particular have always been a part of your love for italian and spanish culture, a fan once took a photo of you and carlos in a museum where he was holding you up so that you could take photos of some of your favorite works of art
and finally and personally carlos's favorite was whenever you two went out for gelato, carlos loved the stuff and you loved taking photos of him
the little things;
just a list of all the little things that you and carlos do slash remember about eachother
your carlos's lock screen and he's yours
he wears your hair ties on his wrist and carries period products in his travel bag just in case you need them in an emergency
he always messages you when your filming to make sure that you've been eating and drinking
the two of you know eachothers routines off by heart, like when he comes home from a morning run, you'll have the shower running and waiting for him
you have a love of classic literature and you often come home to find that he's deep cleaned your bookshelves
you take care of him when he's sick
he'd been whimpering and complaining of a sore throat all day, after a while you'd had enough so you decided to call his mother and ask what she once did when he was sick as a child, when you brought carlos a mug of manzanilla or homemade chamomile tea explaining you'd gotten the recipe from his mother, carlos knew right then and there that he was going to marry you
he once gifted you a stuffed bear and a bottle of his cologne for your birthday so that you had something to cuddle when he was gone and the cologne was for when you missed his smell.. he had to comfort you when you started crying
he loves knowing that you wear his shirts to bed, reminds him that your his
and finally with all the button ups that carlos wears, you often find yourself sewing buttons back onto them, carlos once found you on the couch furiously sewing buttons back onto around ten or so shirts that you'd discovered while doing the washing
no one touches the hair except for you;
when your bored, you often end up begging carlos to let you braid his hair... it's always a yes because ever since childhood, he could never say no to you
you also love to laugh at how messy and fluffed up his hair gets in the morning, the first time you'd seen it you burst out laughing which caused him to blush
down and dirty;
while not going to into detail, here's a list of some of the things you and carlos do in bed
carlos loves eating you out, as mentioned beforehand when discussing his love for giving you thigh kisses
another obvious one was the fact that carlos loved having his pulled during sex
then there's the guided grinding, where his hands gripped at your hips while grinding you down against him
carlos's favorite position to take you in is doggy and no, i personally think there's no explanation needed
carlos has a thing for choking too, you in fact introduced him to it
and finally while it not's something you explore very regularly, you also share a spitting kink
the wedding;
it's been described by friends and family as the most beautiful wedding they'd ever attended, there are photos in the wedding album of you and carlos shoving cake in eachothers faces and instead of a three course meal, you both served pizza at your wedding instead
nicknames;
your nicknames for carlos include; mi sol [my sun] mi vida [my life] papi and mi amor [my love]
carlos called you his wife all the time, including long before you two were married
his nicknames for you include; my wife, mi vida, mi amor and corazĂłn [heart]
aesthetic playlist;
a list of songs that describe you, carlos and your relationship
young and beautiful by lana del ray
boyfriend by ariana grande ft social house
just friends by why don't we
we can't be friends [wait for your love] by ariana grande
never be the same by camila cabello
lay all your love on me by abba
senorita by shawn mendes ft camila cabello
older by isabel larosa
money money money by abba
too sweet by hozier
everything has changed by taylor swift ft ed sheeran [taylor's version]
teenager in love by madison beer
me gustas tu by manu chao
more songs like this can be found on their official playlist
and finally;
this is just how i picture you'd reveal your relationship to the public
movies.with.y/n
movies.with.y/n; my heart always knew it'd be you @ carlossainz55
#formula one#formula 1#formula one fanfiction#carlos sainz smut#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz smau#carlos sainz jr x reader#f1 x reader#f1 social media au#f1 fanfiction#f1 x you
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How would Oliver handle a human child that didn't have bad intentions but was not gentle enough? Let's say the kid just doesn't really understand the terms "gentle" and "fragile" well enough to know how to handle Oliver and somehow he ended up being held by them? He is so good with kids that I wanna see how he handles that
I had a lot of fun with this! Enjoy ^^
Word Count: 4071
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Oliver couldn't stand seeing upset children. Not because they annoyed him, but because sometimes you could tell just by looking at these children that they were being neglected in some way. Part of him was sympatheticâ he had seen so many human couples in his travels and research, and it was often the case that the neglect was unintentional.
But still. Oliver couldn't help but intervene in some cases. Below a certain age it was too dangerous to approach a childâ infants and young toddlers tend to put things to their lips, because that's how they explore new things; ie. Oliver.
Past that it was still risky, but he could handle the bruises. Children could be a lot more delicate than most thinkâ once they are capable of reasoning and can communicate, it's simply a matter of finding how best to deal with that particular child in order to get what they need; whether that's food, attention, or entertainment.
Today, whilst checking the houses to update any files he had, he noticed a young childâ perhaps only 3 or 4â who had been left all alone. No car in the driveway, no one else in the house. Their face was a bit red and eyes a bit watery, as if they had only stopped crying maybe ten or so minutes before he arrived, but they were still hiccuping and gasping every now and then, in distress.
After checking over his file and taking a look at the calendar in the kitchen, it became clear what had happened. Both parents had left to work and forgot to drop their toddler off at nurseryâ perhaps just because they were tired, or maybe because both thought the other would do it.
The toddler was half dressed too, so maybe they were in a rush; one parent could have gotten the toddler half dressed and then headed off and told the other to deal with it, only for a miscommunication to happen andâŚthe poor babe be left alone.
With that investigation done, Oliver could not just stand by in the walls and watch. He could not rely on one of the parents realising what had happened, and the longer this went on the more likely it would result in trauma for the child. It may already be the caseâ though he hoped not.
Three or fourâŚthat was a pesky age. Some children that age could reason fairly wellâ some could not.
Oh well⌠I will just have to try my best.
He could see a few notes on the counter or up on the fridge mentioning a name that was likely the toddler's; Ava. With that in mind, he made his way to the living room, which is where she was currently sitting and staring at the door. He took off his glasses and left them in the walls beforehand, not wanting them to get broken.
Starting high was safer. From there he could gauge her reaction without risking a sudden grab or curious fingers.
âAva?â He spoke out from on top of a toy boxâ the top of which was just slightly hard to reach. He stood still, watching as her head swivelled around to look at him, though she didn't move towards him at all, looking at him with a very neutral expression despite the sniffling. Oliver smiled a little, crouching down despite the fact that really he was the shorter one in this situation. It was instinct.
âHello thereâŚmummy and daddy went to work, didn't they?â He asked. That got a response immediately and she nodded quickly, inhaling some snot from all the crying as she began to speak, on the verge of crying again as if Oliver had just reminded her what she was upset about in the first place.
Most of it was incoherentâ but it wasn't babbling, so that meant she was at a normal rate of speech. From what he could make of it, she was mostly repeating âmummyâ and âdaddyâ, mentioning a car, using the word âgoneâ, and it was clear that she was telling him exactly what he asked; her mum and dad had gone to work and she got left behind in the rush of things.
Oliver gestured calmly with his hands, showing his palms as he took on a reassuring demeanour.
âShhhâŚshhhâŚit's alright. Mummy and daddy are going to come back.â He assured, reminding himself that children that age are more likely to understand positive language rather than if he said that her parents are not gone. âWe're just doing nursery at home today, okay? Does that sound fun?â
She shook her head and wiped at her face, already starting to get upset again, looking around as if her mum and dad might just be behind her.
âNâŚnoâŚâ She hiccuped, voice trembling. âMummy andâŚd-daddyâŚnnâ need toâŚtake meâŚâ
Oliver's expression softened, his chest feeling tight at the sight. He tilted his head ever so slightly, debating whether or not he could safely be held by this child or not.
âAva? Ava, look at me. How old are you, do you know that?â He asked, leaning down a bit. Luckily she did look up at him again, peeking through her fingers and wiping at her snotty red nose with her little hands. She sniffled again, eyes watery, but processing Oliver's question and answering in turn.
âFâŚfourâŚâ She murmured, voice still wobbly through her slightly uneven breathing. It was on the older end of the range Oliver had guessed, which was good, but it was still ultimately a risk.
Oh sod it. If I don't do something now she will get even more agitated and upset. Talking won't hold her attention enough.
He smiled down at her.
âWow⌠you're such a big girl! And you know your own age tooâ very clever.â He gave her a moment to process that before continuing with a question, trying to lead gently into things to avoid making her scared of him. âDid they teach you that in nursery, Ava?â
She nodded slowly, looking up at him with rounded eyes, her lips a little purple from all the crying earlier. Thankfully, despite how she was anxiously fidgeting; rocking back and forth or clenching her shirt in a fist every now and then; it wasn't too difficult to draw her attention away from her missing parents.
âI canâŚI canâŚcountâŚall wayâŚto ten!â She responded slowly, wiping her watery eyes again and scooting a bit closer to the toy box Oliver was perched on.
âCan you? Oh, I would just love to hear that. Can you count to ten for me?â He requested. The more at ease she was, the less likely she was to squeeze him to death once he was in her hands. Not to mention the more comfortable she would be with him.
Ava nodded and began to count, looking up and to the side as she thought about it, slowly getting through the numbers, although she repeated some due to her frazzled state. Her voice was still shaking as she took in shuddering breaths every so often, but it wasn't as close to hyperventilating as before.
Oliver clapped his hands together, beaming.
âBravo, bravo..! Hmm⌠I'm sure you also have lots of toys at nursery. Is that right?â He asked, getting a nod in return. If he could keep the child entertained until her parents got back, then hopefully this incident wouldn't repeat itself. âAnd you have lots of toys in this box too, don't you?
She nodded again, bright blue eyes staring up at him with much less wariness than before. She even scooted a big closer, wobbling to her feet and gripping onto the lid of the toy box as she stared at Oliver with some curiosity now.
That's good. Not for my ribs, but good for my mission.
As she leaned on the box it tipped towards her slightly and Oliver just managed to keep his balance. He quickly regained his composure, and walked slowly towards the right until he could simply hop off of the toy box and onto the TV stand right beside it. It was a bit lower down, certainly within reach, but he was pleased to see Ava was only watching him instead of grabbing him immediately.
âCan you show me your favourite toys?â He asked, gesturing encouragingly towards the toy box and sitting down on the edge of the stand, letting his legs dangle off of the edge as he watched, expression bright and warm.
Latching onto the distraction immediately without even understanding that Oliver was trying to distract her, Ava pried open the fabric lid and stuck out her tongue in concentration as she tried to pull out any of her toys. After a few attempts she let out an agitated whine, growing irritated. Oliver was about to intervene when she accidentally knocked the entire box over as she pulled her arms back out.
She stumbled back and fell onto her bum as the box fell, but she was completely unharmed. She momentarily examined her arms with an upset expression, anticipating injury despite their being none. Quickly, Oliver interjected.
âGood thinking! It will be much easier to get them out like this. Clever girl.â He praised, seeing how her eyes locked onto him and a small smile cracked across her expression, arms forgotten about as she quickly focused back on the toys again, getting on her hands and knees, just grabbing whatever was closest and beaming as she showed it off to him.
He chuckled slightly, leaning forward onto his hands as he engaged with her, getting more of a feel and understanding of her personality. Like most four year olds, she soaked up praise and attention like a spongeâ but she seemed to roll with things much more smoothly than others her age might have. She was resilient, and self assured; even if Oliver needed to guide her there every now and then.
âIs that your favourite?â He asked, tone full of interest and wonder, as if he was just as excited about the random plastic tractor as she was. She nodded excitedly.
âAndâ and it's gotâŚit's got um⌠a farmer. CalledâŚEmmaâŚâ She announced happily, quickly dropping the toy onto the carpet as she searched for the farmer. During her search though she got distracted by the other things in there, showing them off only halfway as she piled the various toys around her.
She was playing with and fidgeting with them all individually, monologuing about what she was doing in what was mostly just incoherent babble due to her being unable to pronounce most of the words. That didn't stop her though, and Oliver happily listened, paying attention and engaging every now and then to assure her that all eyes were on her at that moment.
This worked for about twenty minutes until she started getting bored playing all by herself. She looked at Oliver, her red cheeks and purple lips having returned to normal by now since she was no longer crying, the snot having dried to her face. She waddled over to him and Oliver sat up straight, but didn't jolt or make any sudden movements.
She smiled as she snatched him off of the edge of the TV stand, Oliver just barely holding in a yelp as he had seen the hand coming at the last second. He winced, arms held awkwardly to his sides by her grubby fingers and causing his elbows to dig into his ribs a little. Her grip was tight enough to bruise and almost pushed all the breath out of him, but it was just loose enough for him to breathe.
âAvaâ can you try to be gentle, please?â He asked, voice coming out a bit strained despite himself. He pulled his grimace into a calm smile, maintaining the same warm reassuring demeanour despite the aching pain in his body.
She paused for a moment, blinking down at him owlishly, not understanding what he meant. Her hesitation didn't last long though as she settled back down by the toys, laying down on her stomach and holding Oliver in front of her innocent eyes, her other hand coming closer to feel his hair curiously, mesmerised.
Oliver held stillâ squirming would either cause her grip to tighten, which could very easily break his bones, or it might make her afraid of him. He masked a groan of pain by clearing his throat, still smiling as her tiny but surprisingly strong fingers pushed his head to the side slightly.
âYou'reâŚas small as Emma..!â She declared excitedly, and Oliver winced when that grip tightened a bit more in turn. Any more and it could quickly become dangerous for him. He recalled the farmer she mentioned before and the size comparisonâ he wasn't unused to being compared to a doll.
âOh yes, you're absolutely right! Good girl. I am just the right size for her tractor too, aren't I? Can you put me in the tractor, Ava?â He asked, trying to calmly redirect her and free himself in the process as soon as possible, as it was now difficult to inhale. His ribs creaked in protest, but he fought off the instinct to kick at all.
Perking up at the suggestion she immediately nodded, sitting up on her forearms as she looked for the tractor and finding it quickly. Once she had she shuffled around to face it, resting her cheek on the ground and smiling as she lowered Oliver into the seat of the plastic tractor.
Oliver released some of the tension that had been growing in his shoulders, inhaling some much needed air as he sat back on the slightly too large plastic seat. Just as he was in the middle of recovering though his hands instinctively clutched the fake pink wheel in front of him as the tractor; and he along with it; was suddenly lifted into the air.
It was very disorienting to fly through the air like he was as Ava delightedly made chugging sounds and waved the tractor around to pretend it was driving, but it was preferred to the death grip she had held him in before. After a couple of minutes of holding on for dear life and just trying to pretend he was on the back of his bird steed instead, the tractor finally stopped moving around as he was instead held up close to her eyes.
Oliver was a bit shaky from the sequence of events so far, but he still managed to smile up at the giant toddler.
I'm not sure how many hours I'll be able to handle this. I need to try to explain how fragile I am to herâŚ
Before he could even attempt that though, Ava was already speaking.
âI'll be the⌠the mummy and you can be the baby..!â She announced, and it was not so much a question as it was a role that, to her, Oliver was already accepting. That became clear when she began to babble about the setting and other stuff, but Oliver was more focused on the hand approaching him.
âAva, listen to me.â He spoke with a slightly firmer tone than before, due to how dangerous this could get without intervention. She recognized that, her smile dropping and hand falling back immediately, eyes completely focused on him. He suspected he had very little time before she would lose that focus and grab him again anyway, but he sighed in relief that she had stopped.
Looking up at her, Oliver could tell plainly that his seriousness was putting her on edge. So, he shifted his time to be more light-hearted again as he smiled.
âI have a game for us to play. But you have to listen really closely to the rules, okay? Are you going to be a good girl and listen?â He asked.
His return to being more playful made her relax again, and she nodded eagerly at the sound of a game idea. Oliver was relieved. Some children were determined to get their own way, and would simply ignore the idea of another game for the sake of playing what they wanted to.
âI'm a good girlâŚa-already..!â She pointed out, a bit tongue-tied as most toddlers were. Oliver let out a small chuckle. It was easy to forget how dangerous young children could be when staring up into their innocent gazes.
âYou're absolutely right. But, I still want you to listen, okay?â He emphasised, wanting to keep her on track. He cleared his throat. âDo you know aboutâŚGoldilocks and the three bears?â
She perked up and nodded, putting the tractor down in favour of leaning on her forearms and looking at Oliver that way. Taking advantage of the solid ground, he climbed out of the driver's seat and stood on legs that felt a bit like jelly from all the jostling that had been done to him earlier. She thankfully did not seem to have a problem with it, instead only taking the opportunity to reach ahead and give Oliver a small poke.
He stumbled ever so slightly, but got his balance back immediately and showed no reaction to the poke to avoid sparking any interest in that interaction. Not until he was sure she understood she needed to be gentle, and he could already tell she was getting distracted.
âIn this game, you get to be Goldilocks!â He announced, adding a bit of theatrical flare to his words to make the idea sound as exciting as possible. It seemed to work as he saw her shift with excitement, eyes gleaming with joy. âDo you want to guess what I'll be?â
Ava ummed and ahhed about it for a few moments before looking down at him with a bright expression.
âBear!â She guessed. That was exactly the answer Oliver was expecting and it made sense for a child of her age to guess that.
âThat's a great guess! You were close too. Both things start with a âbuhâ sound after all.â He praised, emphasising the phonics with enthusiasm. âI'm going to beâŚa bed.â
The toddler giggled, rolling on the floor restlessly as she took in Oliver's words. She looked at him, now laying on her back and seeing him upside down, thoroughly entertained by the sight and thought. As Oliver wanted, she was hooked.
âYouâ can't be aâŚa bed..! Beds are for sleeping..!â She pointed out, finding the absurdity extremely amusing, and intrigued by Oliver's game. He was quick to play into her playful manner, taking on a more humorous tone.
âAh, you're right! Beds are for sleepingâŚit would be a bit silly for you to sleep on me, wouldn't it?â He pointed out, eliciting a squeal of laughter. Ava rolled back onto her front, gaze still focused on him, and hands thankfully clutching the front of her shirt instead of him. Oliver smiled, and continued.
âNo, of course not⌠But, just like Goldilocks found a bed that was just right, I want you to do the same thing. And when I tell you it's just right, you win! If you win 10 whole times, you get a prize. Does that sound fun?â
Really it was a very convoluted way of explaining things, but Ava seemed to engage best with praise and play, so Oliver was trying to incorporate that as much as possible to keep her happy.
Ava nodded again, so Oliver explained the rules more clearly.
âFirst, you're going to pick me up. If you hold me too tight I'll say âtoo hardâ. If you hold me not tight enough I'll say âtoo softâ. But if you hold me gently, I will say âjust rightâ. When I say âjust right', put me back down and we'll play again. Ready?â
Without waiting for him to say go, she was already reaching forwards and picking him up, her fingers quickly squeezing onto him in the same painful grip as before. Oliver expected that for a start, and strained to speak, hopeful that this method would work.
âToo hardâŚâ He tried to keep a light tone despite the fact that all of the air was being pushed from his lungs by those deceptively small fingers. Realising that winning wasn't as easy as she first thought, Ava concentrated; tongue sticking out again as she opened her fingers a bit. The grip was much too loose, and Oliver dropped a little because of it, having to cling onto her fingers to keep from falling.
âToo soft..!â He spoke through his big inhale of needed air, relieved at the lack of broken bones despite knowing that this would involve a few rounds of trial and error before she would consistently know the right level of pressure. The fingers closed in again, just on the edge of being too tight. But, as it was close enough, and to avoid making her lose interest too quickly, he counted it.
âJust right! Very good job, Ava. That's 1 win!â He praised. âAren't you clever?â
The process repeated again and again, and to keep Ava's engagement with the game Oliver offered up rewards in between roundsâ like a finger five (which she liked a lot) and invisible stickers. By the seventh round she had learned that âjust rightâ was closer to âtoo softâ than âtoo hardâ, and so Oliver wasn't worrying about having his ribs broken each round anymore.
They reached round 10 very quickly, and she got âjust rightâ immediately, much to her delight and pride.
âThat was incredible, Ava! I'm impressed that you got the hang of that so quickly.â He smiled genuinely. Although the bruises from earlier were bad and would take a while to heal, at least he could rest assured that he had a method to help prevent further bruising. âYour prize is⌠I'll play any game you want.â
Already he could feel the fingers begin to tighten again as her focus turned away from her grip and to thinking of a new game.
âBut!â Oliver quickly interjected, stopping her in her tracks. âI'm still going to tell you if it's just right or not when you hold me, okay? Just to test if you're paying attention.â
It was all continuing to go relatively well, and Oliver was perfectly content playing along with the child's imaginative play provided his bones stayed intact. Whenever Oliver felt her grip getting too tight or too loose he made sure to correct her and heaped her with lots of praise once she got it right.
Ava had completely forgotten about her parents being gone, just enjoying playing games with Oliver.
Faintly, he heard the sound of a car pulling up beside the house, and although he wasn't sure if it was one of her parents or not, it was soon confirmed by the sound of the front door unlocking. Ava also paused when she heard the door, sitting up a bit and turning around, her fingers held in her mouth as she stared.
A woman burst into the living room, letting the door swing open and not bothering to close it as she spotted Ava on the floor. As soon as the toddler saw her mother, her grip on Oliver completely released as she began crying again, immediately returning to the same distress as before now that she remembered what had happened. Her little hands instinctively reached towards the woman, making grabbing motions.
Oliver landed on the carpet with a small âoofâ, before backpedalling into the shadows under the TV stand, watching as the mother rushed over and scooped up the crying toddler, apologising profusely and smothering her in affection to try to get her to calm down.
He smiled slightly at the sight, relieved that Ava was now in her caretakers hands again. His body was equally relieved, and he winced as a pang of pain shot out from the various bruises he had acquired whilst entertaining the curious toddler.
He didn't stick around for too long after, once he was sure that Ava was going to be well taken care of. He managed to find the entrance he had come out from in the first place, retrieving his glasses and placing them on his face. His finger pushed at the bridge to put it in the right place again as he slung his pack over his shoulder and walked outside to whistle for Gale.
I'll have to cut this trip shortâŚbut the bruises were well worth it.
#g/t community#ocs#g/t artist#g/t writer#g/t#ask box#oc asks#giant/tiny#ask#borrowers#g/t fluff#g/t writing#giant/tiny writing#sfw g/t
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Long reblogđ
Opening up this app to see an update of R.E.L.L.S felt like this and Iâm not even joking:
âand sheâd hope to jump right into being jumped on. â nami so #realđââď¸
âCurrently, she was dashing around; sweeping, vacuuming, dusting, moping, and the apartment smelled like an apple orchid. â why Iâm nervous like he coming over my damn house chile
âHer thoughts drifted to Terry and their situation. Someone as perfect as Terry had to have some flaw about him and though she was enjoying herself, she had her guard up. â lol I hope this is not foreshadowing anythingâŚ
âSheâd have to talk to him about it. â this conversation will either go really well or be hell no in between (we might have to jump Terry if he hurt my girl feelings)
âIâve been thinking about you stuffed full of my dick.âÂ
âThen there was Terry. He told her it wasnât a person she wanted to meet during any of their time together. â what the hell is he like Batman Iâm confused. Why is this is so ominous đđđđđ
âSir was a cake walk compared to Terry, but Nami was never going to find that out. Her behavior would have to be egregious. â well now Iâm curious and slightly intrigued. Ainât no way he can get any meaner than Sir, Terry must be a damn villain
âShe convinced him to watch a movie with her. â Nami got his mean ass doing relationship type stuff I know thats rightđââď¸
âI havenât heard from you since we went out. Busy?â Monaâs tone was both cautious and blunt. â yes actually she is busy weirdo
âDid he get tired of you yet?â Her Dom jokes. He leers at Nami, seeing exactly why Terry was hooked on her. â both of them weird as hell Iâm irritated
âYou know no one is going to want you in the community now? I mean, I told you what Terry did to submissives.â Mona says, âso, why did he leave? What stupid mistake did you make?â Mind you he in the bathroom as they speak
âLet me tell you something bitch,â he growls, âDonât you ever get another man to try to tell me what to do. I ainât some little bitch to fuck with.â I JUST BUSTED OUT LAUGHING! HELLO???????
Coming to MY HOME to threaten me , I wouldâve had something hot for both their asses
âShe does what I tell her and if you donât get your dog to mind his business handling an overstepping submissive will be my business.â Lord Terry about to whoop his ass ainât it
âYou brought another man to the house of your friend, who is a woman. To be yelled at and threatened.â Like Nami should really beat Monaâs ass because??????????
â I love me a brat,â he says, looking at Nami with a smirkâ
Terry and Nami so better than me , soon as I heard that âbitchâ word I wouldâve crashed out
âwith my girlâ HIS girlđââď¸
âHis devotion to eating pussy was unmatched and she never had a guy who enjoyed it for his personal pleasure and not just hers.â a #REAL eater we love to see it!
âLetâs go to bed,â he says, âIâm ready to fuck you.â We all cheered!!!
âShe knew he was going to fuck her, but, she wasnât prepared for just how good he was going to fuck her. â He about to tear my girl UP
âSir, I don't,â she whined, her body so intensified with emotions of pain and pleasure she could barely form words.â
âTalk to me so I know youâre okay. Tell Daddy whatâs wrong,â he cooed, bending over to kiss her drooling lips. â yâall letâs start picking out rings and baby names , Iâll start , I really like Amara for a girl
âYouâre so sweet for letting Daddy fuck you like this,â he praised, âletting him use you while you can barely think straight. Shit feel good, hm?â Wow.
ânine and a half inches. â I KNEW IT.
âAinât no other nigga gonâ fuck you like this.â This is some Iâm in your bushes stalking you type of dick, like this is insane
âTell me what you need,â he said, slowing his thrusts to enjoy the way she sighed in content.â AN EXORCISM
âTouch was his kink. The closeness drove him crazy. Whether it was on his shoulder or back, his dick was bricked, painfully so. â This doesnât explain why at this point you still wonât let her touch you but weâll circle back to this sir. Something tells me Nami isnât going to stop asking.
âItâs okay baby,â he cooed. â no it isnât you are some type of succubus omg she gotta sage her apartment after this
âJust feel it,â he slowed his strokes and grinned as she sobbed. â smh he sick need him so bad
âLet me touch you, Sir,â she beggedâ
âHow about you go get in the bath? Let me clean you up and order lunch.â I shouldnât have laughed at thisđđđ
âFinish eating so we can play again.â Hey so this is actually insane! He wouldâve had to get the hell out my house frđ
.summary.: what's a little conversation among friends? nami and terry have some Play Time.
Kinks (in order they appear): oral m receiving, facefucking, terry is a chatty dom, fingering, oral f receiving, anal play (plug insertion), slight degradation, spanking, cum play, nami experiences sub space (cnc) Wordcount: 8k+ graphics: @firefly-graphics / @cafekitsune note: this is broken into two parts @zillasvilla watched me all weekend work on this and was like "Break it apart"
Terry had given Nami a week to reset. He would send her a text or call every now and then, but she hadnât seen him in a week. She counted down the days until Friday and now that it was here she was anticipating so much. He had promised so much and all she had to do was behave. He was going to be spending the weekend at her place which mean it was a weekend of Play Time. A reward for getting through the long week of school, work, and her personal life.Â
Nami had spent the whole weekend prepping her apartment for Terry. She switched her sheets to black so they looked like the ones in his guest room that she used. There were some light yellow accents. Water was stocked in the fridge along with enough snacks to get them through whatever he had planned. She didnât want to have to leave the bedroom for anything.Â
Currently, she was dashing around; sweeping, vacuuming, dusting, moping, and the apartment smelled like an apple orchid. The light fruity scent came from multiple candles. He was supposed to come at eight and theyâd have breakfast and sheâd hope to jump right into being jumped on.Â
Satisfied with the cleaning she did, Nami dashed to her bedroom and turned on her shower. She had everything to do once she was in; shave, exfoliate, cleanse, moisturize! She wanted this weekend to go as smooth as she was trying to make her skin. She had coco butter and a light scented body oil waiting on the counter.Â
Her thoughts drifted to Terry and their situation. Someone as perfect as Terry had to have some flaw about him and though she was enjoying herself, she had her guard up. Being here for his pleasure was all good and she was a willing participant, but her need for the closeness of a partner was rearing its ugly head. She wanted more of a connection that wasnât just his hands on her body. Sheâd have to talk to him about it.Â
Nami finished in the shower and patted herself dry. She lathered her body in lotion and oil, creating a sweet vanilla scent that would linger as the day passed. She removed the rollers from her hair, the blow-out keeping itâs shape and curls. She found it much easier to have her hair down. He could wrap it around his hand better and the feeling of his fist against the back of her head made her cunt quiver. Playtimes were meant to be fun and light, no real lesson or teaching moment. It was about her pleasure. But she wanted him to manhandle her, without it being tied to punishment. She loved the build up.Â
Terry hadnât told her what to wear, but she knew what to not put on. Reaching into her closet, she pulled out a pair of white soffee shorts and a yellow crop top. Just as she was coming out of her room, her doorbell went off. Nami slid over to the door and yanked it open.Â
âHi,â she greeted while leaning against the door frame.Â
Terry looked down at her and her outfit, humming in satisfaction, then pulled her to him as he stepped inside the apartment. He dropped his bag beside the door and kicked off his shoes while holding her still with his hands on her face and his lips on hers. He guided her towards her couch and made her sit.Â
âItâs been a long week,â he whispered, âDaddy just needs you to suck his dick first,â he pushed down the waistband of his sweats and she watched his dick pop up and smack against his stomach. âHands on your knees and keep them there.âÂ
He grabbed the back of her head and guided her mouth towards his leaking tip.Â
âRelax.â He reminded her.Â
Guiding his tip past her lips she relaxed her jaw and stuck out her tongue. Namiâs eyes clenched as he pushed further into her mouth. She breathed rapidly through her nose, managing to keep herself calm enough for him to slide down her throat. Her nose brushed his pelvis as he held her there. Her nails dug into her knees, leaving half crescent shapes.
âGood girl,â he cooed, âIâve been edging myself all week for you.âÂ
Terry pulled his hips back and pushed them forward, using her mouth to get off.Â
âIâve been thinking about you stuffed full of my dick.âÂ
Nami looked up at him as the tip of his dick poked down her throat. Drool slid over her chin and over the front of her top. His stance widened as he moved her head up and down faster. Her spit covered his balls and she wanted to reach out to grab them.Â
âIâm going to hold myself off,â he pulled her mouth off his dick and watched the spit and drool fall out of her mouth in a thick string connecting to his dick. âSuck the tip,â he ordered.Â
She leaned forward and wrapped her lips around the head of his dick, sucking as he asked. Her cheeks hollowed out each time and he hissed, stroking the rest of his length with a tight fist.Â
âHead back,â he grunted roughly, tugging on her curls, âmouth open.âÂ
She stuck her tongue out for good measure and Terry watched her brown eyes look up at him in anticipation. His hand twisted up and down his dick. Above her, Terry jacked off against her lips. She listened to him bite back his moans. She felt emboldened by her position in front of him. Her tongue darted out and lapped at his tip again, smearing his pre-cum like frosting on a cake.Â
âThatâs not being good,â he gritted his teeth together and she giggled, repeating the action, much to his satisfaction. âShit.âÂ
Yanking her head backward, Terry leered over her as he choked his dick with his hand. His cum flew out in thick ropes of cum, hot and sticky on her mouth and tongue. He tasted a little salty, but it seemed like he had just come from working out. The thought of sucking his dick right after a workout was a kink she didnât realize she wanted to act out. Terry pushed his dick into her mouth and she sucked him clean, the mess on her face cooling as her head bobbed up and down. He pushed her back into the couch and admired his work of art on her face.Â
Twenty minutes later, Nami was cleaned up and sitting at the kitchen island. Terry cooked breakfast; eggs, sausage, and grits. While eating he sat next to her with one of his hands between her legs. He wasnât touching her pussy, yet, but his hand was close enough she could feel a little heat.Â
âYou know itâs Play Time but let me give you a few ground rules. You get to cum as much as you want to but there are still boundaries.âÂ
He grabbed her thigh. âNo touching me or yourself unless you have permission.âÂ
âYou already know how to address me.â he paused. âAnd you understand when that changes.âÂ
He told her it would be easy to tell who she was dealing with when they were together. Sir would have told her to drop to her knees at the door. He would have bent her over the arm of the couch and fucked her mouth. Daddy was nicer, sweeter, the man in front of her right now, and that she was excited about it. Then there was Terry. He told her it wasnât a person she wanted to meet during any of their time together. He made himself sound like a caged animal locked away to keep the public safe. Terry was unforgiving. A disciplinarian to the highest degree. Sir was a cake walk compared to Terry, but Nami was never going to find that out. Her behavior would have to be egregious.Â
âDaddy,â she says, eyes on her plate as she shoves her fork into her eggs.Â
âLet me know if it gets to be too much.âÂ
Terry turned in his chair and pulled her chair closer to him. The hand between her legs moved and she felt two of his fingers snake themselves into her pussy. He wiggled them deep and watched her head loll backwards. Her mouth parted and she struggled to keep still and let him touch her how he wanted to.Â
Standing up, Terry moved behind her. He kept his hand between her legs, stroking her pussy with two fingers. His other hand snaked under her shirt, cupping her breast before tugging and pulling on her taut nipple. His lips found her neck, the three feelings overwhelming her body like a flood.Â
âI want to make you feel good.â He moved to the other nipple, tugging cowards on it. âDoes it feel good when I touch you like this?âÂ
His fingers stroked up to her clit, painting it in her slick before he plunged them back into her hole. His thumb pressed on her clit, pushing the throbbing bundle of nerves until she shook on the stool.Â
âTalk to me Nami,â he says, âtell me to play with your pussy.âÂ
The hand that was playing with her nipples wrapped around her throat. Leaning back against his chest, Terry held her still with his upper body while his fingers strummed her pussy like a guitar.Â
âI like when you touch me like this,â she panted. Her chest rose and fell in time with her beating heart. âYour fingers feel so good, Daddy.âÂ
âDo they?â He asked. Terry pulled them out and put them into her mouth.
She sucked slowly on his fingers as he pulled her from the stool. He walked her to the dining table and laid her across it. He pulled up a chair and pushed her legs to her chest as he sat down. Served up for his tasting, Terry did just that.
Terry excused himself to the bathroom. Nami cleaned up from breakfast, dumping the cold food and putting the coffee into the fridge to use later. She slipped on her shorts and wiped down the dining table. She brought out throw blankets and tossed them on the couch. She convinced him to watch a movie with her. As she spread out her favorite blanket there was a hard knock on her door.Â
She wasnât expecting anyone so when she opened the door and saw Mona and her dom standing there she was surprised.Â
âWhat are you doing here,â Nami asked. Â
âI havenât heard from you since we went out. Busy?â Monaâs tone was both cautious and blunt. She kept looking at her dom, who was standing by the foyer. He didnât look happy at all.Â
âSchool, you know itâs my last semester.â Nami replied. âIs everything okay?âÂ
Mona didnât just stop by. At least not without calling ahead first.Â
âDid he get tired of you yet?â Her Dom jokes. He leers at Nami, seeing exactly why Terry was hooked on her.Â
âYou know no one is going to want you in the community now? I mean, I told you what Terry did to submissives.â Mona says, âso, why did he leave? What stupid mistake did you make?âÂ
Nami shook her head. âNo, no, no, heâs still my dominant.âÂ
The same dominant that was in her bathroom and probably listening to this very conversation.Â
âHeâs not here, so it doesnât matter,â her dom says annoyed. âLet me tell you something bitch,â he growls, turning his sudden fury on Nami. âDonât you ever get another man to try to tell me what to do. I ainât some little bitch to fuck with.âÂ
Shirtless, Nami saw Terry step out of the room, a scowl on his face. It was very clear he heard everything that was said.Â
âMona, you brought him here to tell me that,â Nami says as she takes a step backwards.Â
âShe does what I tell her and if you donât get your dog to mind his business handling an overstepping submissive will be my business.âÂ
âA business youâre failing.â Terry said.Â
Four sets of eyes turned to him in shock. Monaâs eyes raked over Terryâs bare chest and the way his sweats hung low on his hips. Terry couldnât remember their names and didnât care either, but he wasnât going to let them speak to Nami like that.Â
âYou brought your dominant to your friendâs place,â Terry says as he assesses the situation before him. âYou brought another man to the house of your friend, who is a woman. To be yelled at and threatened.âÂ
âWe-â
âI just want to get the story straight.âÂ
He walked over to Mona, the same way her dominant had walked up on Nami. Except, Mona was enjoying the attention. He could see it in her eyes; this is what she wanted. Her tight lip expression might fool the other man in the room, but he knew all he had to do was speak and Mona would drop to her knees.Â
âTell her youâre jealous,â Terry says. âTell Nami, youâre jealous of her.âÂ
âIâm notâŚno! Nami, Iâm not-â
In a sweet voice, Terry folded his arms over his chest. âTell. Her.â He looked at Nami and motioned her to move towards him. Just within reach, he had her stop. âI like submissives who listen. Your defiance is a turn off. Thatâs why Iâve never looked your way. I love me a brat,â he says, looking at Nami with a smirk, âbut you are a petulant brat. The worst kind.âÂ
Monaâs mouth dropped open and her eyes darted between the two men in the room. Only one of them had control and she looked over her shoulder at Nami. Terry snapped his fingers in her face.Â
âLook at me when you say it,â he says, âand mean it. Or youâll stand here and say it until I tell you to stop.âÂ
Her chance with Terry was long gone at this point. She knew that the moment he pulled her from the bar in the club.Â
âIâm jealous of Nami.âÂ
âWhy?â Terry asked. âTell her why youâre jealous.âÂ
Mona looked at her dominant and Terry laughed.Â
âI donât know why youâre looking at him. Heâs a switch at best, heâs not going to do anything for you.âÂ
Namiâs Play Time was being interrupted and he could see was getting frustrated with the situation. As much as he wanted to draw this out, and he should, he didnât want to completely ruin Namiâs day. He had a lot planned for her.Â
Terry stared at Mona causing her to fidget and eventually look up at him.Â
âIâm jealous of Nami because you picked her to be your submissive.â Terry leaned in, his voice low. He only wanted Mona to hear what he was about to tell her.
âI should make you tell her exactly how you really feel about her.âÂ
Nami could sense that when they were getting dressed for the party. Her line of questioning had made her feel undesirable and to know Terry picked up on it as well didnât make her feel as crazy as she thought she was.Â
âYouâre lucky Nami is here.â Terry turned to the other man in the room and approached him. âHandling an overstepping submissive? I know you werenât talking about Nami.âÂ
âNah,â he says, âMona wanted to come see her friend.â
âI donât want to do this right now.â Nami says. âLeave please.âÂ
âYou heard her,â Terry says, though his eyes dare the man in front of her to move.Â
Mona turned around and gave Nami an apologetic look. âCall him off,â she says, gesturing towards the stand off between the men.Â
Namiâs euphoric state of bliss was being compromised. This disruption was toying with her Play Time and she didnât want Terry to be too annoyed to play with her. Nami felt hot in the face but it wasnât from anger. She was getting upset and frustrated. Terry stood there, stoic and squared off, his stance defensive.Â
âNami please,â Mona says.Â
âWhy should she do anything for you?â Terry taunted. He says, turning his head to glance at Mona and Nami behind him.Â
âThe way you called me about her, you donât get to speak to Mona that way.âÂ
âOh, wheres the bass you had with my girl,â Terry grinned, âall that bravado is gone now that Iâm in the room huh.âÂ
âNo one is scared of you,â he replied, brows knitting together as his jaw tensed.Â
âI donât want you to be,â Terry replied. âI want you to be uncomfortable. I want you to not be weak. Defend your submissive,â he taunted, âyou donât want me to talk to her?â He whispered. âTell me.âÂ
The tension in the room was high. Nami took a step towards Terry, hoping to diffuse the situation and get them out.Â
âJust go, Mona,â Nami says.Â
Walking towards her bedroom she put space between her and the chaos swirling around her kitchen. She sat on the edge of her bed, legs folded as she dropped her head into her hands. Her friendship with Mona had been great. She never once did she think Mona had ill feelings towards her. Hearing her be jealous, and mean, over her relationship with Terry was hard. She wanted to share all her experiences with Terry with her. Finally diving into BDSM led to the break down of a friendship, if it ever was there.Â
âHey,â Nami looked up, face wet.Â
âYes, Sir?â She says.Â
âLie back.âÂ
She did as she was told and they both moved on from what happened in the kitchen. She didnât want to talk about it anyway and further mess up her morning. Terry moved to stand by the head of her bed. Her cuffs were slung over his shoulder and something silver was resting in his palm. Â
âShorts off, bend your legs and keep them open for me.âÂ
Nami did as told and also removed her top, Terry laughed at her haste and kissed her forehead. He cuffed her hands before kissing them.Â
âKeep them up,â he says.Â
Crawling into the bed, Terry kissed his way up her leg, sucking the soft skin into his mouth as he watched her chest rise and fall. She anticipated things and her body responded to it. She knew his mouth was about to touch her pussy, so she anticipated it. Her body warmed and she started to leak slick from her lower lips. His warm breath heightened that feeling and she almost kicked him in the face when his lips landed on her knee.Â
âRelax,â he says, âyou will need to relax for what Iâm about to do.âÂ
He took her clit in his mouth, sucking slowly, while his fingers stroked around her wet hole. Terry pushed them in slowly, curling his fingers upwards as his tongue flattened against her clit. She was lost in the sensation of his mouth and fingers that when something cold, wet, and hard pressed against her asshole, she jumped. Terry pulled away from her pussy, licking his lips as he eyed the messed between her legs.Â
âSir?âÂ
âItâs a plug.âÂ
âA plug? For what?âÂ
âI think you know what itâs for. You asked for it.âÂ
Nami breathed out and Terryâs head went back down between her legs. She focused on the way he devoured her pussy, licked and sucked until she was trembling again. She felt his hands moved, but not the anal plug. Instead, Terry licked his way down from her pussy to her ass then back up.Â
His devotion to eating pussy was unmatched and she never had a guy who enjoyed it for his personal pleasure and not just hers. He was doing it because he wanted to and it was for his own desires. There was a pool of her slickness on the bed between her legs, around his mouth, and coating the inside of her thighs. She got so messy.
As Nami began to wiggle and squirm to keep from riding his face, Terry used one hand to spread her left ass cheek. The anal plug rubbed against her puckered hole while his tongue licked back into her weeping sex. Both his tongue and the plug surged froward at the same time.Â
âOh fuck,â she cursed.Â
Terry smacked her outer thigh. âWatch that mouth.âÂ
He pushed it to the hilt, making sure it was snug. The stretch was different and it made her clit throb. She clenched around it, only pulling it further in before it would relax as she unclenched. She felt full. The bulbous head of the plug stretched her deliciously.Â
âOh thatâs pretty.âÂ
Netflix was on but Nami wasnât sure what was playing any more. She straddled Terryâs lap, his hands on her thighs, smoothing around to her ass while another scratched up her naked back. The only thing she wore was the anal plug, firmly nestled in her ass, and her cuffs. The yellow material really looked like bracelets when they werenât hooked together and to the bed. She held her own arms behind her back as they kissed. Her hips and his doing a motion against each other. Sheâd rocked side to side and he would jerk his hips up and down. The friction of his dick pressing against her led to more anticipation of what was to come.Â
Naked, Nami was exposed to him. Her body on display as she pulled away from his mouth to breathe.Â
âLetâs go to bed,â he says, âIâm ready to fuck you.âÂ
It was noon, the sun w as high in the sky as Terry tossed Nami on the bed. She bounced and moved towards the pillows, her hands in front of her. Terry dropped his sweats. She had seen his dick numerous times but there was something about this time that was different. She watched as he touched himself, his hand stroking upwards towards his tip when he grimaced from the touch. Sensitive, she logged that for later. He always ended their night in her mouth and if she got the chance sheâd make sure to play with the sensitive tip.Â
He had another bottle in his hands before he squeezed a clear gel into his palm.Â
âFucking your throat is one thing,â he says, dropping a knee to the bed as he palmed his dick again. âFucking you is another and I want to make sure I slide right in.â
This had been the moment Nami was waiting for. She knew he was going to fuck her, but, she wasnât prepared for just how good he was going to fuck her.Â
âSir, I don't,â she whined, her body so intensified with emotions of pain and pleasure she could barely form words. She didnât know if she wanted Terry to stop fucking her or keep going, but the inbetween felt too good to care. Her legs had long fallen to the bed, open and pliant in his hands. His hips snapped between hers slamming his balls against her ass as his dick finally split her open. As he finally fucked her like the dominant he was, uncaring, crazed, feral. Using her pussy in ways that made her more gushy than a Gusher candy.Â
âMhn,â he called, âTell me what you need, baby.âÂ
âAh!,â she keened.Â
His hips snapped upwards, then rutted against her, applying pressure to her clit.Â
âTalk to me so I know youâre okay. Tell Daddy whatâs wrong,â he cooed, bending over to kiss her drooling lips. He looked into her eyes, watching as she forced them straight but couldnât help but cross them when he hit that spongy spot deep in her cunt.Â
âYouâre so sweet for letting Daddy fuck you like this,â he praised, âletting him use you while you can barely think straight. Shit feel good, hm?â He looked down where their bodies were joined. The mess between her legs was hypnotizing. She was so wet and creaming so much. âGiving Daddy such good pussy tonight.âÂ
âIâm good,â she repeated, as if she was asking him a question, not believing she was.Â
âYes,â he hissed, licking a long swipe up her neck before sucking a red spot into the side of it. Nami arched her chest into his, find some strength to wrap her legs around his waist, crying out at the way he began to wine his hips. âYou gonna let Daddy play in his pussy, right?â
Her hands were tied above her head this time and she pulled on her restraints as she felt his fingers slid into her mouth for her to suck on.
âYeah, yeah, yeah,â she hummed over and over. âPlay in my sweet pussy Daddy,â she mumbled, the words coming out between her moans.
âI know you are,â he hummed a familiar beat, âgimmie that sweet,â he flexed, his dick jumped, she cried out, âthat nasty,â he leaned down, going from two feet to one foot on the bed beside her open hips, âthat gushy stuff.âÂ
The sounds she made were wet and sticky; sloshing almost and it just kept spilling out of her this way. The position sent him deeper, stuffing her nice and full with all nine and a half inches.Â
Her lower body wiggled, trying to fight the pressure building as he stilled his body. Terry used her mouth like a toy, sucking her tongue into his, biting her lips, drawing a little of pain from the pleasure she was feeling between her legs. The stretch burned, but fuck, he made it feel so good. He hoisted her legs up so they fell over his arms. Fully seated in her pussy, he rubbed against her.Â
âYou look so good taking my dick,â he praises.
Nami ached to touch him. It was the one thing she had been working to earn since their first night, but he always bound her hands away from him. Avoided her finger like the plague. He knew her body so intimately her pussy clenched around his dick at the thought. Terryâs hands dropped to her waist in a bruising hold.Â
âThatâs it, cum on my dick,â he said, finally finding a rhythm she could rock her hips to.Â
Nami squirmed beneath him as he he fucked her into the bed. She was already running like a faucet, but when Terry pushed her legs towards her her head she gushed, a cord snapping as she came, squirting on him as he chased his high. Fuck he was so big. She thought, trying to catch her breath as her body tensed and jerked beneath him.Â
The wet sound of their skin slapping as Terry dug her out as he chased his high. His ball clenched tight as he held her throat and hip to keep her still. Him wearing his pussy out was the only thing on his mind, making her so tired she purred for his mouth to make it feel better. Terry could see how fucked out she was, her body coming down from her orgasm. He dropped his weight to her body, pushing them both up the bed and rutting against her as he placed her legs on his shoulders and leaned down. Still deep in that shit, Terry made sure she could feel him, poking that g-spot over and over. All she could do is scream out for him, cry, and beg him to not stop, and that he felt so good. Her sweet voice was slurred, each work leaving her lips like she was drunk off his dick.Â
Nami felt like she was in a tunnel. Terryâs voice was muffled to her, the intense feeling her body was experiencing had filled her head with so much pleasure she couldnât think straight. It hurt to think about anything other than how he was making her body feel.Â
âWhy you fucking me like this, maâ he asks, hissing from how tight her pussy gripped him. âWhy you sucking me in so deep, baby.âÂ
Nami cried, too overwhelmed to respond with anything else. Her body, down to her tippy toes, was numb. She was barely holding onto reality.Â
âAinât no other nigga gonâ fuck you like this.âÂ
She heard him speaking but it was more to himself, stroking his big ass ego the way his big ass dick was stroking her tight walls.Â
Terry looked at her, tears running from her eyes, her body shaking as she took his hard thrusts. He turned his head, kissing her both of her ankles he swiveled his hips side to side and she quivered.Â
âYou want to nut again donât you.â He grit his teeth together, the squishy sounds permeating the air the same way the smell of their sex did. âHold that shit in,â he snapped, âlet me play in my pussy a lilâ longer.âÂ
He could feel her about to cum and knew she wasnât going to be able to hold it in. Her body had betrayed her twice already and those orgasms damn near made him bust. Terry yanked his dick out and dropped her legs to the bed. Nami whimpered and tried to reach for him, forgetting her hands were tied to the bed post. Splayed out, Terry bent down between her legs, his tongue replacing his dick. He slurped her clit into his mouth, flattened his tongue and dragged it up and down, coating his face in her slick.
âOh Daddy,â she drawled out. She planted one foot on the bed and arched towards his mouth.Â
His hand slapped against her ass, twice. âPretty ass pussy,â he mumbled, fisting his dick to stroke as he lapped at her drenched lips. âWhy you so fucking wet hm? I can drown in this shit.â Terry released her clit with a soft popping sound and grabbed her legs again. His thrust back in jerked her upwards on the bed. He bottomed out and watched her grab the rope of her restraints.Â
âTell me what you need,â he said, slowing his thrusts so enjoy the way she sighed in content. He had abused this pussy for at least an hour, taking what he needed from her.Â
âLet me touch you,â she whined, âplease.âÂ
Touch. Fuck. He knew the moment her hands touched him he would lose it. He always did. There was something about his girl, his sub, clinging to him for dear life, raking nails down his back like he knew she wanted to do.Â
âPlease, please, pleaseâŚâ she begged, a fresh set of tears springing from her eyes as she cried. His pace quickened.Â
She never asked before and he could see the longing in her eyes when they were together or in a scene. Touch was his kink. The closeness drove him crazy. Whether it was on his shoulder or back, his dick was bricked, painfully so.Â
He shook the thought away and continued to fuck her into the bed. Her pussy gripped his dick right and he groaned.Â
âDaddy just had to give this pussy something to do.â He grunted. He saw Naniâs arms and body slowly begin to relax. âThatâs it,â he coached.
Nami began to cry. The sensation she was feeling was out of body. She felt so high and weightless but at the same time grounded and heavy from his thrusts. She didnât cry from pain but the pleasure just needed another way out. She unclenched her fists as he rocked his hips into hers. His dick curved slightly to the left and stretched her just as good. Terryâs dick was big.Â
âItâs okay baby,â he cooed.Â
Nami whines and whimpered. Her thigh began to shake from her resolve snapping. She felt too exposed. The room light suddenly blinded her as he took off the scarf. Blurry she blinked out her tears as she turned her head to the side and went to bite down on her arm when Terry grabbed her face.Â
âJust feel it,â he slowed his strokes and grinned as she sobbed. His tongue darted out and he licked her tears before sucking her lips into a kiss.Â
âLet Daddy take care of you, hm?â He wrapped his hand around her throat and held her to the bed. He looked into her eyes. They were glossy and she had a dazed expression on her face though she was fighting it.Â
âButâŚ.Daddy,â she protested, her hips trying to get his to move again.Â
âBe a good girl,â he says as he thrusts once more.
He resumed fucking Nami, filling her inch by inch with his dick. He held her hips and gave her slow but forceful thrusts. Her pussy choked his dick.
âShit Iâm going to fuck this pussy open.â He popped Nami on the thighs and she looked at him with doey brown eyes. âYou're sitting on this dick all weekend.âÂ
âOh!â She whimpered, her pussy making wet sounds as his words make her gush a little.Â
Terry noticed and smirked. âYou like when I talk to you like that, hm?âÂ
He leans over her, his forehead pressing against hers as he watches his dick slide in an out of her cunt. There was a mess between their legs. A sticky, slippery, wet, mess. He sunk himself deep each thrust, caging her body between him and the bed so she didnât slide across the sheets. Terry rubbed his hands down her thigh and then hooked it behind her knee before pushing it to the bed.Â
âOpen up,â he growled, eyes rolling backwards as she clenched around him. âFuck, open that pussy up.âÂ
Nami tugged on her restraints until they shook the headboard. Her body was slipping from her control and all she could do was let it happen. He had a tight grip on her leg, holding her still as he pummeled her into the mattress. The sheets were askew and pillows were somewhere on the floor. His sweat dripped onto her body, the cold droplets adding to the sensations her body was experiencing. Her clit throbbed for release, but it went ignored, and pulsed. Her toes were curling and her back was arching up off the bed, seeking out more contact from her dominate.Â
âI got you baby,â he groaned. His own body shuddered. âLet me fuck this pussy like it deserves to be.âÂ
Nami made the mistake of looking at Terry. He was staring right at her. His eyes had darkened. His brows were knitted together and when his tongue darted out to lick his thick lips, Nami whined. She could feel his hands on her body; slapping her thigh,Â
âSoggy ass pussy,â he spoke, his thumb reached between their bodies and rubbed her neglected clit. âI wish you could see how sloppy this shit looks,â he laughed. âFuck, Nami.âÂ
Terry was stroking something deep inside of her. He reached places no one had prior. He fucked her towards another orgasm, but this one felt uncontrolled. She scrunched her nose, thumbs pressing into the link on her cuffs, and he hips fell back to the bed. New sounds of pleasure fell from her lips. High pitched squeals as he snapped his hips over and over between her legs. Stuffing her with his fat dick to the point she could feel the recoil in her thighs. Speaking of, her thighs fell to the bed, fully opening herself to Terry and his hands.Â
âThatâs it baby,â he praised, âgive Daddy his pussy.âÂ
He used his hands to rub her sides, massaging her into relaxing. She stopped tugging on her cuffs and her arms slackened. Namiâs breath shuddered with each thrust between her legs, her pussy was stuffed full and she felt like she was feeling him in her stomach. The depths he reached mad her lift her hips for more.Â
âBe Daddyâs little doll,â he whispered.
âDoll?â Her voice trembled and her bottom lip quivered. âIâŚ..doll?âÂ
She could barely form words, eyes crossed now that he could finally see them. As tight as her pussy was around his dick, that wasnât the only thing turning him on. Her lack of speech made his ego puff up just a little. He warned her of his plans to fuck her and now that he was inside of her he didnât want to leave. He enjoyed the other physical and mental effects of sex just as much as the actual act of sex.Â
âYeah,â he replied, his voice even as he stroked himself with her cunt.Â
Each slide back in Nami could feel the thick tip of his dick slide against her spot. Every. Time. he hit it directly and she saw stars. Her vision became a little spotty from the overwhelming pleasure he was giving her.Â
âMy little ragdoll.âÂ
Terryâs hands moved up her chest, tugging down on her nipples after rolling them between his fingers. He admired the bruises on her hips from his hands. The dark spots a reminded for her long after he was done. Respectfully he was going to make sure she had as many orgasms as he body could give. Disrespectfully? He was going to dig her pussy out and dick her down. He just needed her to-
âDaddy,â she weeped, âI feel-â
âLet go for me,â he coaches, kissing her quickly to ground her for a moment. Aware of her body, Terry wrapped a hand around her throat and applied just enough pressure she could focus on him. âLet it happen okay?â He says. âYouâre slipping into sub space.â He noted, more to himself than her. âLet me take you there, Nami.âÂ
His voice sounded like whispers to her. She hadnât realized her eyes were closed until she opened them and he was watching her face. His expression was soft and a stark contrast to the roughness of his dick fucking her. She couldnât hear her moans any more and her body started to float. Her thighs rose on their own, needing a little friction but it was pushed back to the bed.Â
A fucking faucet.
Dripping so fucking much.
Wet. Ass. Pussy!Â
His stamina was insane and Namiâs body was his outlet. That same body betrayed her. She felt like she was in a dream state. In a trance. She thought she was tugging on her restraints, but Terry had already unhooked it and her arms were laying above her head. She knew to keep them there but with the euphoric feeling course through her body she had no strength to move them anyway.Â
She felt like mush in hands. Pliant, Terry grabbed her neck again.Â
âFeels good,â he asked. He knew getting her to talk in this state would be hard, he could see the pleasure in her eyes with how slack her mouth was.Â
Namiâs mouth dropped open and a trail of drool followed. She could see Terry but wasnât really seeing him. She could feel him deep and each thrust drove her to the brink.Â
âGood,â she choked out, âso big,â she cried.Â
âI know baby,â he hissed.Â
âGive it up, Nami.â He pushed her into the bed with a hand around her neck. âSubmit, to Daddy.âÂ
She couldnât reach to hold him and the grip on the sheets wasnât enough to keep Nami from jerking upwards as her climax sacked into her body. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as the arch in her back brought her body upwards so suddenly she gasped; unable to speak anything other than Daddy. She was a river of slick and emotions, her body levitating and grounded at the same time. The feeling was out of body and it was like she was watching herself get fucked. Terry pulled out long enough to roll her to her hands and knees. There was no hesitation as he slid right back into her velvety walls. He held her hips still as he pounded into her from behind. She could feel his balls slapping against her clit with each thrust and as her arms stretched above her head she wanted to reach back and cup his sack in her hands, feel how heavy he was, and stroke him that way towards pleasure.Â
âPush back on it,â he ordered, grabbing a hand full of her hair to yank her head back. âShow me you want it, doll.âÂ
Mindlessly, Nami pushed her hips back, letting his dick stretch her in the new position. Terryâs breathing began to change. His breaths were shorter, staggered, and he was trying to control them, but couldnât. He snatched out of her cunt and pulled her to her feet. Weak, Nami fell into him and he popped her on the thighs.Â
Terry spun her around and forced her to bend over at the waist. At the perfect height, Nami touched her toes then wrapped her hands around her ankles. His feet kicked her legs apart right before he lined his dick up and slid back in. He moved her back and forth. There was a lack of balance but her trust in his strength to hold her up, kept her from worrying. She could feel her slick sliding down her legs.Â
âFuck,â Terry shouted. He moved her to the bed and laid her on her stomach at the edge. His hips slammed into her ass, his dick searching for that gummy spot that made her squirt earlier. Â
His eyes dropped to the anal plug he fitted into her earlier. He reached down and tapped it, causing it to move up and down. Namiâs hand swung back the new sensation jolting her body forward. Terry grabbed her wrist and folded her arm across her back.Â
âYou want me in there,â he taunted, using his other hand to twist the plug. âYou want me to fuck this ass too huh?â He kissed between her shoulder blades as his hand pulled the plug halfway out and pushed it back in. âYeah, you are,â he cooed. âYouâre going to give Daddy all your holes mmhm,â he joked, smacking her ass as he fucked her.Â
This was his show. Terry felt on top, on cloud nine, and euphoric. The high seeping into his body was making him a bit feral. His grip on Nami tightened, his sack seizing up as Nami soaked his dick again. He was on the precipice of an orgasm when his eyes clenched shut. He bit down on his lip, nearly drawing blood, as he thrust became shallow and staggered. His rhythm was thrown off as Nami turned her head after lifting up on her arms to glance back at him. Her eyes were closed in pleasure and her mouth was swollen and parted. She looked fucked out while in sub space. She made soft cooing sounds instead of moans, egging him on.Â
âFuck,â he cursed, realized it was his favorite of the night, âitâs coming, shit Iâm gonna cum.â He wasnât wearing a condom and he hadnât discussed with Nami where he should shoot his load. He wanted to fill her with it and watch it ooze out. So he was going to.
âDaddyâs gonna nut in this pussy,â he pulled her backwards, grunting as ropes of hot cum painted her cervix and slippery walls.Â
Terry held her still white he emptied his sack, smacking her ass in time to the spurts leaving his tip. Stilling, he let her spasm around his dick, squeezing him deeper as she shook. Terry brought her hips up and pushed her shoulders into the bed. Inch by inch, Terry pulled out. When his tip was left he pushed back in once and Namiâs pussy gushed. Over sensitive, she was spent. Her pussy was spent. Clarity was setting and she inhaled suddenly, dropping to the bed as Terry pulled all the way out. He rolled her over and leaned over her. His lips slanted over hers and she sighed into his mouth.Â
âYou did so good.â He praises her with kisses. Soft and sweet while her soul found its way back into her body. âSee what being good for me gets you?â He reached between her legs and plunged two fingers into her pussy, churning them around while using his load as lubricant. âI told you I was going to teach this pussy what to do.âÂ
He added his thumb and stroked her clit. He was playing with her now, toying with her over sensitive body. He was slowly bringing her down from that intense pleasure. Safely guiding her down so she didnât hit the sub drop too hard.Â
âTalk to me, beautiful,â he whispers. âWhat do you need from me?âÂ
Nami licked her dry lips, panting as she tried to catch her breath. Speaking felt difficult and she cried suddenly from not being able to form words. She felt good. Everything about what she just experienced was perfect. She just couldnât form the words to tell him that. Terry pulled his fingers out and smacked her pussy a few times.Â
âWater,â she croaked, finding her voice amid her moaning, âplease.â
Terry kissed her cheek. âThereâs my girl,â he noted, seeing the clarity returning in her eyes. She was looking at him now, not through him earlier. Fully present in her body, she tried to sit up. Terry pushed her gently back to the bed and helped her crawl towards the top. He grabbed the pillows from the floor and made a cocoon for her to curl up in. His cum leaked out her hole, smeared across her thigh as she moved. Wiping a hand down his face, he shook his head. He snatched up his sweats and strode towards her bathroom.Â
He ran her bath first and then slipped into her kitchen. He left the door open so the AC could kick on and cool the room. He grabbed a few waters and some fruit for her to snack on. Coming to the side of the bed, he opened one of the water bottles and pulled Nami to sit up. The cold water cools Nami as soon as it hit her tongue. Terry pulled the bottle away as she choked.Â
âSlow,â he murmured. âTake it easy.âÂ
She ate strawberries from his hands in between kisses.Â
âYou were well worth the wait,â he pulls her face in with a hand on her chin. âHow do you feel?âÂ
âOverwhelmed,â she sighed, the word falling out of her lips blissfully. Though the haze of pleasure was gone, she was still feel the effects of submitting to Terry. High on his attention, she leaned into him, seeking out his mouth for another kiss.Â
Terry entertained her, pulling her to his lap, but keeping her hands in one of his behind her back. Nami wiggled against his hand.Â
âLet me touch you, Sir,â she begged, her lips going from his jaw, to behind his ear, then his neck. She worked her hips against his bulge, aftercare becoming a fleeting thought as Nami worked herself back up.Â
âHow about you go get in the bath? Let me clean you up and order lunch.âÂ
Terry stood up, Nami in his arms as he carried her to the bathroom. He supported her with one hand, the other keeping her wrists locked. Placing her on her feet, he brought her hands above her head and helped her into the bath. Nami grimaced as a cool sticky substance rolled down her leg.Â
âYouâre still leaking out of me,â she lowered herself into the tub.Â
âAs I should be.â He kissed the top of her head and opened the cabinet under the sink. She had multiple scents and soaps and he settled on a lavender body wash and pine scented lotion.Â
Terry bathed her and carried her back to her bed. He remade it while she soaked in the warm water. Drying her off, he motioned for her to lie down. Back against the pillows he knelt on the bed at her feet and began working lotion into her skin. His thumbs pressed into the arches of her foot, drawing out soft groans. Her calves were next, and Terry took his time there, sucking on her toes. He massaged her body, sucking on her skin in random places. He tugged on a shirt and she noticed it wasnât yellow, but the black one he came over in.Â
Yanking back the sheets, he tucked Nami into them. The bedside lamp turning off as he pulled the little string.Â
âIâm not tired,â she yawned, stretching her limbs.Â
âNap. Iâll have lunch when you wake up.âÂ
She didnât remember falling asleep or hear when her bedroom door opened up. Now, something was pulling her awake. Terry, kneeling beside the bed, had pulled her to the edge of it and opened her legs, exposing her sore cunt to his greedy mouth. Each swipe of his tongue wetted his lips. His tongue flicked across her clit before it slipped into her hole, fucking her how his dick had earlier.Â
âI got a little hungry,â he admitted. âI knew this pussy would still be swollen so I came to kiss it better.âÂ
Nami raised up on her arms to watch his tongue work between her legs. He kept her legs open with his heavy hands. His tongue split her lips apart so he could suck her clit into his mouth. Terry tongued her pussy until she was rocking her hips against his face. The anal plug bumped against his chin and he pulled back to glance at it.Â
Pulling away from her, Terry stood up and pulled Nami to her feet. She was able to walk now and followed behind him to the kitchen. Next to the glass of water was another bowl of fruit and a plate of salmon and rice.Â
âDo you remember submitting to me?â He asked after a few minutes of silence.Â
âA little. It was a lot going on,â she admitted, âit just felt good. My body just gave out.â She chewed on the end of her fork. âBeing used like that felt really good.âÂ
âItâs called sub space. Where your body just feels intensely good yes and you can't put it into words?âÂ
Nami nodded.Â
âBeing able to fuck you senseless like that,â he whistled. âNami, Iâm ready to be back in that pussy. Finish eating so we can play again.âÂ
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Part two on 11.24.24
I apologize for the errors. As I re-read I will clean it up. I've been staring at this part for two weeks.
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Hello, I hope that I'm not too late for a small request for the NRC family interaction. But still do want to ask for a req for Azul Ashengrotto and Jamil Vipver to interact with Najma Viper. I could already imagine how chaotic it would be already.
Oml, Jamilâs worst nightmare would be if Najma developed a crush on Azul đ He would so go protective big brother mode⌠I didnât decide to do that for this interaction though, itâs just a funny thought I had.
Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.
âOya, is that my dear friend Jamil-san over there?â
That voice. That ever-so grating voice, trilling out his name so sweetly. Immediately, Jamil wished to retreat into his hoodie like a turtle to a shell and die there.
Alas, he could do no such thingânot when he was trapped among several milling bodies, his younger sister in tow. Najma had heard and glanced over her shoulder. She locked eyes with the approaching octopus and arched an eyebrow as she tugged on her brotherâs sleeve.
âHmm? Hey, Jamil. Thereâs a guy in glasses headed this way and waving. It sounds like he wants your attention,â she pointed out.
âI know,â he hissed back, already starting to powerwalk away from Azul. And thatâs just what Iâm afraid of.
âArenât you going to at least say hi? Itâd be rude to straight up ignore him.â
Jamil internally cursed. All that nagging from their parents about etiquette and how to show hospitality had been well and truly drilled into him as well as into her. Now it came back to bite him like a loose snake where it smarted the most.
âPlease. He isnât worth my breathâor the trouble.â
âJamil-san! Please wait.â
To his dismay, Najma stopped dead in her tracks. âI really think you should greet him before you go.â
He gaped at her. âYouâre joking.â
âSevens, why are you being so weird about this?â She rolled her eyes. Then, cupping her hands around her mouth, she called out to Azul. Jamilâs stomach sank. âH~eeeeey! Jamil onii-chanâs friend! Itâs nice to meet you. Iâm his adorable little sister, Najma.â
He frowned. âSince when am I Jamil onii-chan? And since when are you my adorable little sister?â
âSince now,â she muttered back.
âAhhh, itâs a pleasure to finally meet you,â Azul crooned. He took Najmaâs hand and shook it. âAzul Ashengrotto, at your service. Iâm a classmate of your brotherâs, as well as dorm leader of Octavinelle and manager of the student-run on-campus eatery, Mostro Lounge.â
âOh, wow!! That sounds so cool.â
âHeâs humble bragging,â Jamil said flatly, folding his arms. â⌠What do you want, Azul?â
âIs that any way to greet your beloved bosom buddy?â He sighed, shrugging his hands up. âI only wanted to check in with you and make sure that you were enjoying Family Day.â
âDonât say that. Itâs disgustingâand patently false.â
Jamilâs eyes sharpened into pointed daggers. Heâs surely sniffing around for weak points. If he cannot glean them from me, then he intends to pry those secrets from Najma. I wonât allow that to come to pass.
He gripped his little sisterâs hand tightly and tugged on it. âI believe this concludes the obligatory pleasantries. Come along, Najma. We must get going to our next meeting.â
âBoo, youâre no fun,â she pouted, yanking back. âYouâd seriously rather go to a boring old meeting than chat with a friend?â
âDonât be difficult. Youâre not visiting to make social calls, youâre here on business.â
âBut youâre not attempting to socialize at all. Geez, youâre not putting anything you learned at home to practice, are you?â
âI am plenty!! Iâm just selective about where and when to apply those teachingsâas should you.â
âWhat a deep bond you have with your sister, Jamil-san. You fuss over her like a mother hen,â Azul chuckled, pushing his glasses up. âWhy, as an only child, it warms my heart to see this kind of camaraderie. I shall have to commit this to memory.â
A heart? he scoffed. A cold, slimy one, perhaps.
Jamil shot Azul a frigid glare. âDo NOT.â
âOh? But what is so wrong with appreciating a tender moment of bickering between siblings? Itâs something I could never hope to experience myself.â
âYeah, yeah, Jamil! Youâre so totally being mean to your classmate for no good reason. Donât you feel any shame?â
âAre you taking his side in this?!â he demanded of his sister.
âSo what if I am?â
âMy, my, Najma-san!â Azul suddenly wedged himself between the Vipers like an octopus slipping into the crack of a rock. His smile was annoyingly broad and simpering. âIt seems that you and I are kindred spirits.â
âYup! Looks like we are,â Najma agreed, an equally unsettling smile creeping onto her face.
Jamil paled. I donât like where this is goingâŚ
âThen it is clear what we must do.â
âYeah, itâs so obvious.â
They both turned to Jamil. The dread in his stomach spiked, hitting his peak, then sailed past it. He could feel his blood pressure shooting up too.
âWe should bully him!â
#Jamil Viper#Azul Ashengrotto#Najma Vipet#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland#NRC Family Day#twst interactions#twisted wonderland interactions#twst imagines#twst scenarios#twisted wonderland scenarios#twisted wonderland imagines
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Imagine being kidnapped by Tom Ludlow.
Hi anon. This got out of hand. Iâm sorry. CW: mentions of child abuse/dark humor concerning it, rape/noncon fantasies and details. I write from a place of my own trauma, and it gets a little fucked up. If you donât like dark fics, or are triggered easily, DO NOT READ THIS. Violence, bad cops, SA. Tom Ludlow is not the bad guy in this, though.
If youâre a big girl, a tall girl, a girl with a lot of muscle or fat, you probably havenât been picked up off the ground since you were very young.
You question your femininity because of it, along with a whole lot of other shit that society decides to push on you for not having a traditional feminine figureâŚwhatever the hell that is.
You often take on a more protective, mothering or masculine roll with your smaller or daintier or gentler friends. You donât look down on them at allâor envy them too often. Some people just carry a unique tenderness that you wish the world had more of. But every little rainbow or sunbeam needs their strong protective cloud, and you mostly gladly, sometimes reluctantly take on this role.
You will never be a meek, kind, delicate person. Itâs just not going to happen. You donât want it to happen. Youâre pretty comfortable with your role in life. Itâs justâŚsometimesâŚand this is probably something that everyone craves in vulnerable momentsâŚyou want to be the one getting protected.
Itâs just kind of exhausting, always being there for everyone else. As much as you love it, and you do, it can also really drain you.
The duality of man is that we can be more than one type of person, and want different things. You know this. ButâŚitâs hard as hell to admit you want to be taken care of. Because doesnât that ruin your tough facade? Your strength and independence? Doesnât that let everyone know that youâre just putting on an act to cover up who you really areâa weak, sniveling girl?
Thatâs why you bottle up, keep things to yourself, regard the world cynically and humorously with a lazy shrug of your shoulder. You act like nothing gets to you, like you are a stoic guard at the queenâs gate, like a big mastiff on patrol of your sheep.
When you do wear an emotion, more often than not itâs either sarcasm orâŚanger. Like tonight, when some guy wonât leave your friend alone at the bar.
Sheâs visibly uncomfortable and attempting escape from the creep following her around. Sheâs too nice to tell him to go away, but youâre not, and you have had to put yourself between them way, way too many times.
âSheâs not interested,â you tell him.
He sneers at you. âYeah, yeah I know.â
Except he fucking doesnât, because ten seconds later heâs smacking her ass when she stands up, and youâre punching him in the mouth.
He hits you back, and it feels like a slap from a two year old, but it startles your fight or flight, and before you know it, your vision is blurry with rage and your fists are flying.
The security guards have to pull you off of one another and haul you outside to where the police are waiting with cuffs.
âHe was harassing my friend,â you tell the guy whoâs chaperoning you.
âHer ugly ass is just jealous cuz nobody wants her!â Screams scumbag from down the sidewalk.
Wow, youâve never heard that one before.
One of the cops grabs him by the collar and says something that appears to be stern with his finger pointed at his face.
The guy looks visibly shaken after that, and he specifically avoids looking in your direction again.
The ballsy officer, probably in some sort of supervising position by the looks of it, gets to you next, and you have to crane your neck up to look at him.
You expect anger, but his face is neutral as he pulls a pen and paper from his utility belt. âHello, maâam, my name is officer Ludlow with the LAPD. You mind telling me what went on here tonight?â
You tick through the list of events as best you can, trying not to paint yourself as innocent (because with the way you beat on him, youâre definitely not), but making sure he knows what a fucking reprobate you were up against, and he scribbles it all down diligently.
After youâre done, he flicks his chin at the officer standing next to you. âReed, let her go.â
They uncuff you, and you roll your arms, testing the circulation and rubbing out the raw red marks on your wrists. âThanks,â you tell the lead officer. âYou mind if I go back in and get my friends? Thereâs only three of us and Iâm worried about themâŚâ
âI canât let you go back in,â officer Ludlow says, âbut give us their names and descriptions, and Iâll send Reed in for them, alright?â
You nod, comply, and a few tense moments later Abby is running out to wrap her arms around your shoulders, smearing her glittery tears and pink blush on your jacket.
You hug her back, picking her up a little bit off the ground with the ferocity of your relief, and look at officer Ludlow over her head. âThanks,â you tell him.
Tye, arriving from the thicket of people at the entrance a few moments later, immediately wants to know what happened.
She, however, is interrupted, by the asshole down the sidewalk, still in cuffs. âHope you think of me when you see that handprint on your cute little ass tomorrow!â He calls, and Abby turns away, choking on a sob.
Youâve always had anger issues. Usually, in adulthood, theyâre pretty easy to tame down. Not in this circumstance, not when you see Abby shaking and crying, looking as defenseless as a baby mouse.
Unbeknownst to you, because your sight and sound have been marginally narrowed to one person who needs his face bludgeoned in so hard that he finally shuts the fuck up, the head officer has already signaled for them to haul this guy into the back of a police car.
Youâre not sure how you cross the distance between you and him so fastâyouâre built for endurance, not speedâbut suddenly your fists are connecting with his flesh again, and thereâs a lot of yelling and pulling and finally your feet leave the ground and your knuckles leave his face.
It takes you a minute to realize you are being carried awayâthat your feet are not on landâand you look up at the person whose arms are currently wrapped around you.
Like mentioned before, itâs been a long, long time since someone has picked you up and youâve lost your center of gravity so quickly and so thoroughly. Like a startled animal, you fight to try and get back to the ground, more out of shock and adrenalized fear than anything.
You donât mean to scratch or bite the nice officer, you really donât.
Ludlow just sighs at your resistance, like he could be doing something much more important right now rather than manhandling you into the back of a squad car like youâre an ornery kitten rather than a formidable opponent.
You are silenced into shock the whole way to the police station.
They put you in the waiting room sans cuffs, and youâre not sure how much time passes until a heavy presence plops down on the plastic chair next to you.
âFuck,â is the first thing you say to Ludlow. âMy friendsâŚâ
âTheyâre safe. Iâm giving them an escort back home.â
He gives you some room temp water, and after the fear wears off, grants you enough time to come back to your good senses. You look at him sheepishly, with your head tucked down. âSorry, he was a fucking creep.â
Ludlow nods. âI get it, hopefully I can get you out of it with a slap on the wrist.â He hands you some tissues from his breast pocket. âWipe that blood off your face.â
You didnât realize you were bleeding, so itâs a shock to finally feel the ache of a bloody lip and bruised cheek and see the paper come back crimson streaked.
After a few long moments of silence, you say, âI feel like an asshole.â
He shrugs, leans back, grins over at you. You fight the urge to flush at his crooked smile. Heâs a handsome man. Sometimes you like those. âAsshole, no. Dumb, maybe. He could have really fucked you up.â
âI handled myself just fine.â
âYour split lip will disagree tomorrow morning. Lemme see.â He holds out his hand, as if for you to rest your chin in, and youâre not sure what brain malfunction gets you to comply. You are not a good listener by any means, especially for men in positions of authority or power.
Maybe itâs sexist, maybe itâs unfair. Spend your whole childhood getting the shit taken out of you by a man thatâs supposed to love and care for and protect you, and then decide whatâs fair and whatâs not.
He whistles low, turning you this way and that with a tenderness you donât expect from calloused, bear paw hands with knuckles like golf balls. âIâll give it to you, youâve got balls. Bigger than most men Iâve met.â
Your mouth betrays your tough girl facade, and lets a tiny smile hike up the edge despite the stinging pain that follows.
Officer Ludlow gets you out with a slap on the wristâaka a misdemeanorâjust like he said he was going to. You tell him thank you about ten million times for saving your ass, and for offering to give you a ride back to the bar to get your car.
âIâve already put you out too much tonight,â you tell him. âIâll get a Taxi or something.â
âItâs a Saturday night,â he says, jangling the keys in his beater pocket. âBy the time you get to the bar, youâre gonna be towed. Câmon.â
You open the back door of his charger, but he shakes his head and, instead, opens up his passenger seat for you to slide in.
Itâs about now youâre starting to get a funny feeling in the pit of your stomach, like something is off about this interaction. Youâre not one to trust easily, and getting in the car with a complete stranger, although one in uniform, is out of character to say the least.
Your radar has really been fucked up tonight. By the alcohol, the scumbag, the being arrested, the bruising and tearing of your knuckles. What a way to end it, you think, if Ludlow is a bad guy.
The funny feeling in your guts that you decide to ignore this one time? It turns out to be right. And as Tom Ludlow starts driving up through the deserted hills, in the opposite direction of the bar your car is at, you almost want to burst out laughing at how stupid you are.
Asshole, no. Dumb? Fucking definitely.
You test his door handle and he snorts at you; like heâs saying, you think Iâm that stupid?
âDoesnât hurt to try,â you grumble, sizing him up from the corner of your eye, deciding whether to fight or flight or just give up now. Heâs thin, but heâs broad. Tall. Not lanky. He wonât be easy to push over. Youâll have to bite, claw eyes out, rip his hair from his head. Make sure he doesnât pull that shiny pistol out of his belt before you can jump on him.
You could do it right here in the car and risk barreling over the steep hillside on your right. You couldâ
âHey,â he says, calmly, capturing you too easily from your violent thoughts, âitâs alright, Iâm not gonna hurt you.â
A part of you wants to believe him, or maybe just believe thereâs still some good in the worldâsome good in men. Hell, maybe leprechauns exist, too. You never know.
He looks sideways at you when you giggle in response to these reassuring words, as if youâre the one whoâs fucking psycho. âIâve heard that one before.â
He makes a pensive sound, air puffing from his nostrils, switches gears as the incline increases. âDaddy beat you up?â
Well, fuck it, might as well share all your sob stories if this is really happening tonight. âUncle, actually.â
âSorry,â he says, and you hazard a glance over to see if his face matches his empathetic toneâit, surprisingly, does. âHe still alive?â
âNo.â
You must be violently shaking to compensate for the repression of a panic attack, because his still, steady hand on your shoulder pauses the tremors. âItâs okay,â he assures, like heâs trying to soothe a crying kid. You have to admit, his voice is a cool ointment for hot nerves, even if heâs the reason for them in the first place.
The brain has a funny way of dealing with things like this. Thereâs about a 30% chance his intentions are raping you, because with his looks he could get any lady in the city of lights for free, but rapists and molesters rarely think about physical attractiveness when it actually comes down to the act. Psychologists say itâs more about the power trip for them. And, at least, if he is going to fuck you, heâs not exactly the worst man that you could pick to do it.
At least heâs hot, is what it boils down to. Because youâre a disgusting degenerate. Because your coping skills are a ticking time bomb, a broken record, stuck back at the part of your life where you had to start liking the way uncle Eddy touched you to deal with the shame and the despair of it.
Officer Ludlowâs gonna pick you right up off the ground again, slam you into his backseat, tug your pants and underwear down in one go. Heâll make you beg him to fuck your pussy instead of your unprepared and untainted ass, use his spit as lube, rub his meaty fingers over your puffy lips and taunt you when his saliva encounters your slippery cum. Heâll smack your ass for liking this, leave big red handprints, whisper in your ear that youâre gonna remember him, not just tomorrow, but for weeks after he gets done working your cunt. That he should kill you and leave your body out for the flies, but he wants you to live just so you can feel the way he destroyed your pussy.
The charger slows to a halt out in the sticks, and you have no idea where the fuck you are or how long youâve been driving. The night is thick black soup in a boiling pot, and his headlights cut through it meagerly. Itâs enough light to see whatâs happening ahead, though, and when you look over at him curiously, he is grinning at you.
The man from the bar who assaulted your friend is in cuffs, an officer on each arm holding him in place. You donât feel bad at all when you notice his swollen lip and purple temple, but you do wish you would have gotten more hits in.
Lucky for you, Officer Ludlow has you covered.
âDo you want to hit him?â He asks, unclipping his seat belt. âOr do you wanna watch?â
You blink a few times in response, not sure what to say to this brutally kind gesture. This man who barely knows you is helping you exact revenge against his own brethren. Youâve never been soâŚflattered.
âDonât tell me youâre attempting to grow a conscience?â He teases.
âI wanna hit him.â
To your disappointment, Ludlow is not a total savage. He lets you get 3 or 4âitâs hard to remember the exact numberâgood hits on this dirtbag, and even wraps your knuckles up in a cushiony flannel from his back seat beforehand. His only rule is, âstay away from his ugly ass face. I donât need him coming back to the station more fucked up than it already is.â
You get him in the stomach, the ribs, kick him so hard in his dick that you feel the hard pelvic bone underneath. Maybe itâs only a couple hits, but you make them count. And when you start to ache, or get tired, all you have to do is remember the tears smearing Abbieâs pretty glitter eyeliner down her face.
If he does say anything to you, you donât hear it. Or maybe he really doesnât, because Ludlow stands behind you like a watchful wolfhound the entire time, and then escorts you back to his car with a heavy arm over your shaking shoulders.
âGood job,â he praises, seeming very amused and unaffected by this whole ordeal while you are trembling, soaked with sweat, panting like a hooker in a fur coat. âItâs alright, he had it coming. Hey, hey, hey, look at me.â
You do as he says, momentarily escaping your fury in favor of his calming voice and soft black eyes.
âYou did amazing. Lemme see the knuckles.â
He takes your hand in his, and you notice the size difference first, and then the warm, damp, pleasant heat second.
Thereâs been a lot of firsts tonight: someoneâs hands being larger than your own (big lady hands shouldâve been your nickname in highschool), being picked up off the ground past the age of 7, a man going out of his way to do something nice for youâbecause your brain decides thatâs how itâs going to frame this scenario whether you like it or not, as some fucked up little date on Tom Ludlowâs dime.
You feel safe with your hand tucked into his and the heat of his skin and the cozy intimacy of being belted into his vehicle. You feel grateful that good men still exist. You feelâŚtight, twisted up in some deprived box of longing youâve made permanent home in.
You leave the sanctuary of your comfort zone, and have another first, as you cross his center console and kiss a man on his mouth.
For a moment where you feel like your heart is suspended on the edge of a very tall cliff, he freezes. This stiff resistance immediately makes you want to pull away, but, before you can, he wraps his hand around your chin and pulls you deep into his mouth.
Arthur from college, Monica from New OrleansâŚHell, even Uncle Eddieâthey have nothing on Officer Tom Ludlow with his big, slick tongue and muscular lips.
Itâs so good you can almost ignore the fresh sting of your split lip.
He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, and murmurs a laugh when you give him a low groan for the effort, then takes your angry little grumble and dampens it with his renewed fervor. His hands remain gentle and chaste on your face, your neck, your shoulders, even though there is nothing gentlemanly about the way he devours your mouth. He does not push for more, does not hold you down with those big hands that absolutely could if they wanted to.
You set the pace, you pull him closer, you push him back when you need to gasp for air.
He licks the taste of you from his tilted, beautiful lips. âYou have to breathe through your nose, honey.â
âSorry,â you say, crossing your arms over yourself, pressing back against the door, away from him.
His lazy smile droops. âAre you alright?â
âI justâŚCan you take me to my car? If not I canââ
The thick start of his engine cuts you off.
The car ride back is silent. You think about turning on the radio a few times, but donât want to cross more boundaries than you already have. Luckily, he flips it on for the both of you and youâve never, ever been so happy to hear Metallica.
When he parks, cutting the engine off in the nearly deserted garage, the tension between you immediately peaks, sizzling like vinegar on baking soda. He wraps a long limb over the back of your seat, looks confusedâvulnerable for such a big, scary man, and he makes your heart twang a lonely cord.
He seems almost boyish, when he asks if he can take you out sometime.
And you want to say yes. Every feral primordial part of you does, anyway. But then thereâs the rational part, the one that should and does win most of the time. Youâve already snubbed that part too much tonight, so you politely decline Ludlowâs offer, and with your traitorous heart padlocked and chained back into your breast cavity, you say goodbye to the nice officer.
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Hello! I love what you write itâs amazing! â¨
Can I request an Eddie Brock one where the reader is her neighbor and they are pretty close and sheâs in love with him but heâs still obsessed with Anne, and one day she sees him really sad (about Anne) and invites him to see her band and she starts playing (The one- The Warning) and idk something interesting happens:0
Take A Chance On Me
eddie brock x younger fem!reader
summary: being in a relationship with eddie is a bliss! except for when he mourns his ex relationship with anne, which unfortunately, seems to be pretty much all the time. in the middle of all that sulking, you come up with an idea. will you be able to make him choose you this time?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, situationship lol, so angst!!, sunshine!reader x grumpy!eddie (he's still mopping around), hurt/comfort, exhibition kink, fingering, oral (f. receiving), p. in v., riding, creampie, you can tell i've been listening to ABBA ijbol, no venom :(
word count: 4,394 words
side note: hi, tysm for requesting! since this request is very specific lol but has similar themes to my previous eddie work i decided to make it as a follow-up in the neighbours au; not a series yet but it was an interesting idea to add to their dynamic!!! hope you like it <3 in case you wanna read the previous part for context as to where this two are it's here
Ever since that night, your relationship with Eddie has grown. Hell, you may say you're a day away from being official any time.
And there are time's when you're so sure of it, like when he stops by your apartment and kisses you like there's no one else in the world; to later make you come hard with the lights off (hey! you gotta start a tradition or two).
But there are other times when you knock on his door and he doesn't open, only for you to use your spare key, finding the room scented with empty bottles, your neighbor mumbling something like Anne through his sad pouty lips.
Yes, Anne. A name that makes you seethe like it burns; a ghost that haunts the spaces of silence where Eddie seems to doubt what the hell is he doing: why is he thereâwith you.
Your heart feels heavy, and it feels sort of pathetic that it's his hurting what hurts you the most. In the end, things are like this: you love helping people, your empathy may be infinite and you're sure you've never loved anyone like you love Eddie Brock before.
So it's this combination of things that makes you take the following decision, hoping to make him pass the page, so whenever he gets drunk again, all his lips will ever whisper is your name over and over again; that his sadness belongs to him, and not the only person that seems to be keeping you away from your happy ending, even if they don't know about it.
To Eddie, you're the sweetest thing in the world. Nobody kisses like you do, hugs with the tightness you do, loves as much as you do, fucks as good as you do or bakes killer cookies like yours.
That list does nothing but grow, as he is constantly mesmerized by every new little thing he learns about you: your favorite movies, the new recipes you try (he's more than happy to beta taste them for you), the way you sing (you do have a good voice that made him squirm at the other secret talent you had) and your kindness, which has done more hurt than good lately: because Eddie can't fathom the idea of you, taking care of him during his sad drunken mopping nights, while listening to everything about Anne on repeat.
He knows it hurts you, that he's starting to create creaks in your relationship, the hope slowly fading away from your eyes each passing day, doubts creeping up your smile, erasing that shiny beautiful light of yours; it's the only thing stopping him from calling you his girlfriend, and still, he can't stop.
It's like a vice at this point, and he wonders if he'll ever sober out of it.
So today he knocks on your door, hoping to set things straight even if a part of his heart still beats for Anne. It may be selfish, but after you came in his life, he can't imagine it without you.
But when you open up, he's at loss for words.
"Why are you wearing that?"
You scoff. "Hope it's not an offense, judging by your tone"
His eyes roam over your body, and even if you tend to be more on the confident side, you can't help but feel shy. After all, he's never seen you like this before: all glam.
It's a jacket, well his jacket, a small black top and black very short shorts. You surely are playing the part tonight, switching your usual pink and sunflower bubbly style to something more... rock.
"Why?" is all he asks, and you feel obligued to answer. Besides, you were going to knock on his door after getting out, not expecting he did it first. The surprise is ruined, but his incredulous eyes suffice for now.
"So, my friend has this band" you explain, "and they just got sick. The thing is, they had a gig today in a bar where they're regulars, so naturally, cancelling at last minute is not an option"
"And?" you love how oblivious he can be sometimes.
"And, I found a replacement" his face remains blank, so you sigh a little dissapointed but deliver with chirp, "me!"
"You?"
You roll your eyes, "is there a problem?"
"No!" he corrects hastily, "I'm just surprised, that's all. I know you like to sing, and have a good voice! But there's a huge gap between that and well, playing in a gig"
"I know, but I used to have a band when I was in highschool; I'm used to this things"
His mouth falls a bit, and maybe his head starts to cloud with ideas of your clashing new style and angel like voice; or maybe it's you wearing his jacket, a garment of his for you to bear in public: a first. It's a bit stupid and too daydream-ish for his liking, so he blurts:
"I didn't know that"
Your laugh is so light, it feels like wind blowing across a field.
"Oh, Eddie baby" he blushes at the pet name and endearing tone, your voice dropping like it does whenever you want something he's more than willing to give you, "there's a lot you don't know about me"
In the end, you convinced Eddie to join you, who, if you're being honest, didn't need that much convincing.
He was sold just with the idea of seeing you sing, which intrigued him. There's a huge difference in your drunk karaoke nights that annoyed your neighbors and playing live in a gig. Eddie wants to see what you have to offer, and as for you? Well, this is your plan: your plan to make him forget about Anne once and for all.
It may be silly and immature but hey, you're young! It's okay to be wrong and possessive sometimes, and your friend just did you the favor of faking an illness to give you a spot to shine and put that voice of yours to use, that's a bit rusty since your highschool days. So, no pressure! Your potential boyfriend is on the crowd and ruining this would cost your kind friend their job. Good thing your optimism doesn't seem to expire, because Lord! Your hands are trembling and sweaty when you hold a microphone again for the first time in a little more than a decade.
"Hey" you exit out of the curtain, and the dim lights now bright up a little, directing themselves towards you, "good evening"
You hear a bit of muffled voices that sound confused, asking for your friend, and you can tell the crowd are regulars. Yikes.
"I'm here on behalf of Isha. They're sick, so I'm covering just for tonight" you decide to go for a little jokey joke to light up the otherwise judgemental room, that seems to be testing youâlike they know all your weak spots; smell your nerves. "So don't like me too much, as I'm a one time thing"
Eddie laughs, but covers it with a cough when he realizes the room is awfully quiet.
"Okay, uh, for tonight's set, I've got a few things prepared" you fumble a bit with the papers where the lyrics are (you've always liked to be a bit old fashioned), like you're clumsy and it's your first time, not reflecting the fact that this idea has been simmering for a whileâevery song rehearsed and planned. "Songs, I mean, I've got a few songs prepared"
You start with something smooth, which makes people divert their attention back to whatever they were doing. To you, that's a bit dissapointing, but as long as they don't judge and Eddie keeps his eyes on you, you think you can make it.
But what where you really thinking? Being optimistic means you're often let down, as your pink bright ideas end up crushed by the real gray world. And you can handle itâas you're no weak, but resorting to singing a song that feels oddly specific about the situationship you're currently living in hopes of making Eddie forget his ex fiancĂŠe and get whooped by your mesmerizing voice is actually kind of crazy!
But yeah, now you're nearing the end of the set list and almost everyone's eyes are on you. Of course, Eddie is the most attentive, taking every word that pours out of your melodic mouth like if he's thirsty, and your voice is the only thing that can help him. He never leaves your silhouette, and it may be you dreaming, but there's something like guilt and love behind his eyes; torn. Yeah, you do feel like you're dreaming, and it's been so long since you felt this alive; you kind of forgot how happy singing made you.
As the crowd is engaged, you find it fitting to make a pause and announce the next song. You know your voice comes out as shaky, but hope people think it's about tiredness and not nerves. Why are you nervous, thought? People love you! It's because this is the final part of your plan: singing this song you used to be obssesed long ago, but now seems to perfectly sum up those raw, angry and vulnerable feelings fo yours you're simply not used to; they say music helps us put a name to that we can't, and that has never been more true.
"For the next song, well, our last song" a few booing echos in the crowd, and you can't believe you made it this far. Maybe Isha did lost their job, "it's called The One, by The Warning. Hope you enjoy"
Eddie's had such a blast tonight, he hasn't noticed the past of time, completely lost when you announce the last song. Among other things he's forgotten, is the fact he was supposed to talk today with you about the future of your relationship.
It's kind of your fault: how can he remain focused with such display in front of him?
The band begins playing, and soon, your voice fills the air:
I'll do anything to make it happen
Tell me your secrets, what are you hiding?
Some people sing along the lyrics, while others just listen attentively. You make it to a part of the song that sounds like:
Can you explain to me what's this feeling?Love it or hate it, it's never leaving. Want to believe, that you feel it too.
Oh, Eddie feels nauseous. The lyrics hit a bit too close to home, and he fills called out in the room of oblivious people.
He can hear your vocals breaking a bit, as raw as he's never heard before. He feels so bad, he's about to make the most ridiculous thing of his life and jump onto the stage to hug you, but he can't interrupt you. So he sits there, palms sweaty and nerves tense.
He's been dumb, but like, really dumb. Of course you know it: how can you not? He swears every morning after, his hangover unbearable, your kindness hurts more than his headacheâbecause there's pain behind your eyes, and he knows you remember more what happened than he did. He feels undeserving of your compassion and all the care you give him, even if you know Eddie's still hung up on Anne.
There is no reason to even doubt it. Please, understand that I am not lying. My heart is true, it beats for you.
How can you still love him? Still root for him? How can you give him your heart knowing a part of his still beats for Anne?
Fantasizing that something might happen, always wishing that I was the one.
He feels torn, because he knows it's you he wants to be with. You're the reason his days have been brighter ever since he lost everything, the reason he smiles whenever his door knocks and why he isn't alone in this sulking anymore. So he hates the fact that he can't heal faster and move on, because that's all that's really stopping him from just being him and you.
Give me something I can feel, I'm too afraid to ask. What is it I need to change, for you to love me back?
He's done mourning but he knows grief doesn't pass in the blink of an eye. But he's sure of it already.
Say that you will really never hurt or leave me. Say it and it will come true. Hold me like you really love me: tell me that you do.
Those three words he's been holding back: afraid of feeling too much in such little time; afraid of thinking he would ever feel his heart beat for anyone else, the confession dripping from his eyes but not past through his sealed mouth.
And I know that I'm not the one on your mind. But still, I will be the one.
The song ends before he's registered, and amid the applauses, you leave the stage, almost running behind the courtain. The band bids goodbye and Eddie finds himself leaving his table and moving onto where the small improvised dressing room is.
He's done pondering. You will be the one.
You didn't plan to rush backstage like that, but tears started to burn in your eyes and it was getting harder to contain them infront of the crowd.
They loved your show, but you feel empty, even if a little relieved. There was a pressure before and now it's gone, but there's a thing that hasn't gone: the doubt.
You wonder if Eddie understood the words you feel like a coward for not voicing, the feelings that threaten to spill like a hot cauldron, the rage burning your throat when he talks about her, like she's all there is in his mind. Then comes the sadness; you can't help but wonder if he will ever choose you.
Tonight, perhaps, is the day all those what-if's will be answered, and their possible answers won't hunt you anymore.
It's like he read your mind, because there's a knock in your door and it's like you have memorized a bit too much of Eddie: the traces of his faceâwith wrinkles that mark the gaps in your relationship, the loud way in which he eats, the sounds he makes when he rides his bike, especially those when you wrap your arms around his; even the way his knuckles call for you through the door.
You clear your throat, trying to hide your broken voice. "Come in"
Eddie's face pops up, and all you can offer him is a weak smile. "Did you like the show?"
He tries to measure what he's about to say, because he doesn't know where to start, but the glow in his eyes betrays him, so he excitedly says: "It was great! I didn't know you had that in you, baby"
Even the pet name doesn't make the smile reach your eyes. Oh, he's screwed up for sure.
"Thanks" you mutter, small. You hate feeling like this: the last time you did, you were still in middle school. Your kindness was taken for weakness, and you promised yourself you would never let your heart be taken and used again. Yet here you are, hope planting a seed inside of you that's grown into a rose with thorns that pierce your sweet heart whenever it beats for Eddie. But you can't stop: the roots are too deep in you, and you can't find yourself to kill the flower that's bloomed out of this one-sided love.
"Listen, y/n" oh, he's serious. No petname or nothing. Maybe he's finally opened his eyes and realise this fooling-around-thing you've got going on isn't going nowhere; that your new isn't as exciting as it was before, and his heart will never be yours. You'll never be the one.
"Y-yes?" you can't fake it. Your voice cracks, so you avoid looking at him, "tell me, Eddie".
He shouldn't start with that, seeing the way your face fell and body shakes, even though you're sitting.
"Fuck. Baby, no" he coos, getting closer and dropping on his knees, forcing you to look at him by taking your face softly by the chin, "look at me".
When you meet his eyes and they're already glossy, he feels like he deserves a higher punishment than what any physical one could ever accomplish.
"No, no. Shit, I'm sorry" he tries wiping your tears with his thumb, but you keep on crying more. "Ah, fuck"
"Are you done with me?" you ask on a shaky whisper.
Funny saying that when you weren't even a thing. But you can't help and yearn for it; said what first came onto your mind.
"No!" he corrects, so quick and loud it startles you. "What made you think that?"
"The song-" you start blabbering, "No, I'm sorry Eddie, it's my fault. I shouldn't put on a show that's m-more like a tantrum if we're being honest. We're adults and we can talk, for God's sake! That was so immature of me. Let's just forget this and- I don't even know what to do or what to say, just, spare me from walking out or taking the elevator at the same time I do because it's just gonna be so embarrasing- please, if you're gonna break up with me, do it quick-"
He didn't want to, but he feels the need to interrupt your little rant by now.
"Y/n, stop" you feel even more embarrased now. You start to drift a little and begin considering to move out of the country and change your name. "Who said anything about breaking up?"
Ah, you feel stupid. Stupid, but hey! How can you not come to that conclusion? It's both of yours fault.
"Y-you didn't" you whisper, "but-" you try to reason yet the anger and embarrasment is a bit too much.
"I didn't yet I can understand why you'd feel that way" he sighs, "but let me explain, please"
With a nod, you motion him to continue.
"I'm the only one who should be saying sorry. You did nothing wrong, baby; in fact, your little solution to talk out your feelings surprised me a lot. In a good way! You know I love your voice. But anyways, as I was saying, I'm sorry about everything. It's just... it's not fair to you: you've been nothing but sweet, loving and the best girl I've met ever. I feel like I don't deserve you, and after tonight, if you choose not to stay with me, I'll get it. You're worth of much more than a sad, older and bitter nobody" he ends his sad little man speech, and you can't help it but leave your sit and wrap your arms around him, burying your face on his shoulder as you whisper lovingly on his ear:
"I know, Eddie" you stroke his hair gently, "but I'm not leaving you. Never"
He lets himself sink into your embrace, the perfume and sweat such an intoxicating smell, he's drowning in your scent already.
"Good" his voice turns husky, dropping an octave. The hard on his jeans doesn't go unnoticed, "because I wanted to give my rockstar a reward"
You laugh, and he feels better seeing you smile.
"Seriously, Eddie? How can you go from vulnerable to horny?"
"Both are states of vulnerable!" he defends, "besides, tell me that you don't want it" he motions for you to stand against the dresser, your back against the mirror, goosebumps in your skin when it touches the cool surface.
Eddie grips the flesh of exposed skin your shorts show, leaving a trail of kisses against the bare tights. He pulls them off, and you gasp out a contained moan.
"Someone c-could find us, Eddie"
He growls, his head in between your legs, the panties blocking him from your pulsating cunt. "Let them" he pronounces it so deliciously, you find it hard to resist the panic of being found; Isha will kill you if they found out, but hey, the plan was to get back with Eddie so in the end, it worked, right? Can't get mad at that.
The panties come off with a yank, and you can barely ask if he locked the door before his tongue gives the exposed dripping folds a generous lick. You arch your back at the pleasure that runs through you.
"Mpmh, Eddie" you groan, feeling his slow but steady movements. Your breathe comes out ragged, more when he uses his thumb to caresses the sensible zone with fast circles, making you cum with a cry, yet it muffles inside his mouth that captures your lips in a kiss.
You can taste yourself in his lips, but let him devour your mouth.
"Want more?" Eddie groans against your mouth, his fingers going inside you, softly touching the entrance. You moan against his lips, moving your hips greedily in response.
"Yes" you moan out, making him chuckle.
"Seems I'm not the only horny one here, baby" he mocks, "are you that needy?"
You huff out, annoyed at the accusation.
"Don't worry, you and I both know we love to help each other out" his voice is soft, "besides, it's been a stressful day for us, hasn't it. Let me make you feel better, baby"
His hand travels inside you, his middle and forefinger sliding lazily into you. You tense up, feeling him touch your clit, his fingertips stroking over sensitive tissues. He can see the mirror fogging, and if he didn't have his head in between your legs, he'd probably see his face full of your juices.
"Shit" his voice comes out of his chest, sounding rather gutural and animalistic. "God, how wet you feel, baby"
You mewl. But it's not enough, his fingers falling short: you need to feel all of him. Now.
"Eddie" you beg in need, "please".
"Please what?"
Your hands travel to his pants, undoing his jeans. His large palm stops you before you can reach his underwear.
"Say your words, baby" he taunts, and you hate the way your neediness leaks from in between your tights.
"Just... I need you, Eddie"
He gets rid of the jeans by himself, and you stroke his member covered by the fabric. You get rid of it too, and the next thing is your mouth saying: "I want to ride you"
Even in his haze, he reacts a bit, looking around the room.
"There" you point the chair you were sitting previously on.
He sits down, obeying without a word. You come close, gripping his member firmly in your hand. You pump from the bottom to the top, making him roll his eyes and throw his body back from the pleasure.
His eyes go blank as you sit over his dick, already leaking with pre-cum. Eddie grabs you by the hips, the veins on his arms more notorious, some tattoos popping up like they are 3D.
"You're beautiful" he mutters, and you feel like giving him a reward: so you grab his dick with your hand as his grip gets tighter.
He presses his tip against your fold, side to side, like if he was painting your tight walls with his juices.
He pushes the first centimeter inside, and as soon as you stretch out for him, he starts thrusting, getting a whimper out of you.
"Fuck" he curses, deep inside you. His body shakes, and you feel every single vibration provoked by the friction. You feel dizzy as you go up and down, the rhythm delicious. He keeps moving, his hips doing a circle, all to feel more of you.
"You feel so good, baby" he praises, in ecstasy. You keep moving up and down, covering his long. You bite back a moan, "might end up helping me more than I was going to help you"
He's fucking you silly, and your mind goes blank, so after the thrusts and his confession from before, you dizzy out:
"Everything is for you, Eddie; just for you. You're the only one who can make me feel like this"
"How does it feel?" he asks in a whisper against your ear, his thrusting getting sloppier.
"Feels so good"
"As good as you feel" he moans out, his breathe whistling through his gritted teeth. Your ads bounces against his tights, the sound of skin clapping in the tiny room a very obscene echo. "C'mon, baby. Make me cum"
You tighten with the plea: tights, stomach and ass. Your core is swollen, burning with each new thrust. Eddie keeps you tight as profound as his strong arms can; there'll be a bruise tomorrow.
He pushes all his length inside, keeping you open so he can bury himself deep in you, with strong thrusts against your shaky cunt. His jawline tenses, painfully close to his orgasm.
Your voice comes out muffled, "Harder".
It's funny how no one has even checked the room. No knock, nothing. You suppose they all went out their way when they saw you about to burst in tears, to give you space, a space you're pretty thankful for now.
"You're mine" he rests his forehead against yours, "say it"
His hips shake as you pronounce, "only yours, Eddie"
You can't contain it any longer. There's relief after the intense orgasm that shakes every bone in your body, overestimulation when you feel him cum inside of you, thick shots painting your swollen walls.
You let yourself fall into his arms, the chair creaking with all the weight. Sweat glistens as you try to get your breathe back, your heart beating so fast you fear you'll have a heart attack.
"Tell you a secret?" you hum tiredly against his shoulder, resting your head in it as his long thick fingers comb through your damp hair. You can't believe your plan made it this far, but since you're still in the haze, you can only nod and hum.
He gets closer to you, his hot breathe tickling your ear.
"You're the one, y/n" your heart beats even faster, and you hide your face against his hot skin so he doesn't see the new tears that are forming in your eyes: they're happy tears. "I love you"
Is this is a signal to sing and not voice out your problems? Who knows, maybe next time, if you sing Money Money Money by ABBA, you won't be so broke.
#dilfistwrites#eddie brock#eddie brock x reader#eddie brock x you#eddie brock fanart#eddie brock imagine#eddie brock smut#eddie brock fanfic#venom#venom movie#venom symbiote#venom smut#venom spoilers#venom 3#venom the last dance#marvel#marvel smut
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Hello! How are you?
I love your blog and I've been following you for a while now!
So... I have a question...
Do you know anything about John's relationship with a curvy blonde girl during his younger years? I've seen photos of him with her and some descriptions about them (apparently friends/or lovers?) Sadly I don't know her name but I hope you know who I'm talking about.
I would like to know more about it and if you happen to know anything it'll be appreciated!
Thank you :)
Hello! First of all: Thank you very much! I'm extremely grateful for this support. đ¤
Now let's see if I can help you. I believe you're talking about Bettina, the girl who worked at the Star-Club and was friends with the Beatles, especially John.
What we know for sure: She was close to them and there is even a home recording where John, while playing a song with the band, shouts her name from the stage. From what she says, John was the first love of her life but she never made it clear whether they were just friends or something more. They would go out together, go to the movies, she would buy him food and would always give him advice when he felt sad or frustrated. She says in a documentary that she would even help him count money because he didn't wear glasses and couldn't count properly - she calls him cute.
Now, there are many rumors: Some "authors" out there claimed that John got her pregnant, forced her to have an abortion and that's why she gained weight, but this was denied by Klaus Voormann and Tony Sheridan! They said that 1) Bettina never got pregnant and 2) She was always a fat woman (which is nothing wrong with that!). A friend of Bettina's claims that they were indeed a couple, but for John she was just another one while for her, it was almost a relationship. In any case, what we are SURE of is that she was important to John and she truly liked him, but that the distance, Beatlemania and everything that happened after Germany naturally separated them, only reuniting them once: June 1966 when the Beatles, now with Ringo, returned to Hamburg.*
My personal opinion is that they may have been together, but many people, both inside and outside the fandom, try to deny it because they think it's absurd for a Beatle to date a fat woman, as if it were shameful or bad. Bettina was a sweet, beautiful girl who deserved love just like anyone else, and John liked people for who they were, not for their appearance or ridiculous prejudices.
I hope I could help you! And if it's another blonde, let me know and I'll write another post lol. Thanks for asking me.
*John and Bettina in Hamburg, June of 1966.
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Hello friend! I don't know if requests are currently open or not but GOD, I am a huge Halsin th0t and I just read your "Filthy things Halsin would say" with fem reader and I love the way you portray him, I NEED moređł Maybe general nsfw headcanons, please? Anything you'd be comfortable with, really! Ofc if requests are closed or you no longer write for BG3, feel free to ignore this and regardless, thank you for your time and dedicationâŁď¸
hi friend, i appreciate the kind words! they are definitely open right now! i havenât written for Halsin in forever, so itâs a nice change of pace, and iâm right there with you, heâs a gorgeous man lmao. i wrote this sort of quickly, so it may not be the best quality, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless! (Ë Ěł , ĚŤ , ĚłË)
master list link
á° NSFW HEADCANNONS [ ŕź ft. halsin ŕź ]
Halsin, who waits until the moon is high in the sky to steal you from your tent. Who leads you deep into a secluded area of the woods, away from the nosiness and prying eyes of your camp mates. Who crowds in on you, backing you up until the scratchy bark of a tree pokes you through your shirt.
Halsin, who towers over you, who tilts your head up with a gentle grip on your chin. Whose hair flows with the soft breeze, tickling your neck when he bends down to press a hot kiss to your mouth. Who hums his approval when you press back eagerly, sticking your tongue into his mouth. Who shoves his big hands up your shirt to palm your tits and roughly squeeze until youâre shivering from the warm touch.
Halsin, who strips you bare and falls to his knees. Whoâs so tall heâs still at the perfect angle to suck on your nipples, slick tongue circling them over and over, tugging gingerly with his teeth. Who settles on his heels, encouraging you to hook one leg over his thick shoulder. Who grasps your hands and rests them in his hair, clearly telling you to hang on. Who bites kisses along the soft skin of your inner leg, stopping to nuzzle and inhale at the crease of your thigh before placing the flat of his tongue to your perineum and licking all the way up to your clit.
Halsin, who gets your muscles tensing and shaking, one heel digging into his back, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and tugging as he eats your pussy so well you want to scream. Who holds your ass with one hand and slips two fingers inside you with the other, stroking your g-spot until youâre cumming on his tongue. Who works you through it, retreating once itâs over and telling you in a low rumble that âyou taste as divine as nectar, little bear.â
Halsin, who gently declines your offer to repay the favor. Who instead requests that you ride him because his cock aches when he pictures your tits bouncing. Who says âplease my heart, allow me to view you in all your glory as you take what you need and ride my cock.â Who lets you free him of his clothing and reclines against the trunk of the tree. Whose handsome features leave you starstruck in the light of the moon.
Halsin, who makes sure youâre stretched enough before guiding you down onto his cock. He couldnât live with himself if he hurt you. Who grips handfuls of your ass and helps you bounce, thick biceps flexing each time he pushes you upwards. Who braces his feet on the grassy forest floor and meets you thrust for thrust, pushing his cock in as deep as it goes until you get impossibly tight and cry out his name.
Halsin, who showers you with praise and encouragement. Who moans and murmurs âgods, your pussy is as close to heaven as Iâll ever be. I canât stop myself from spilling inside you, my dove.â Whose warm body cages yours afterwards, hugging you close to his chest as he waxes poetry to you until the lull of sleep drags you under.
#halsin smut#halsin headcanons#halsin x you#halsin x reader#daddy halsin#halsin#baldurs gate x reader#baldurs gate halsin#baldurs gate smut#halsin x y/n
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