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#my dad and i share the same book taste
hopedflight · 3 months
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novemberocean · 1 year
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saw @ltcommanderkathrynjaneway post their top 9 books and it inspired me to put mine together.
i managed to narrow down to only one Terry Pratchett book but had to do two of my moms books. the one im in and the one written for me
if you too can narrow down your fav 9 books plz tag me i would like to see
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icycoldninja · 5 months
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Dating Vergil headcannons
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-Vergil is undoubtedly a loving sweetheart. Yes, he has a grumpy side, but he truly loves you and cares for you however he can.
-Always protects you, be it from devils and grotesque monsters or a dog that happened to growl at you a little too much.
-Kinda gets overprotective like a dad over you whenever you get sick or injured, no matter how small the wound/illness is. He will immediately go into full parenting mode and wrap you up in a cocoon of blankets while worriedly feeding you soup and forcing bitter tasting medicine down your throat, or force you into a chair so he can dress and disinfect the wound as needed.
-Very jealous around Dante. Even though he knows that his brother would never attempt to steal you away from him, he can't shake that feeling; that nagging worry that perhaps you would fall for Dante's charms and leave him all alone.
-Of course, you'd never ever leave him, but Vergil's not the best at reading people, so he often needs to be told that.
-Shower this man in all the love and affection he deserves--you're the only one he'll ever allow to anyway.
-Calls you cute nicknames (but only in private) such as Babe, Dove, Sunlight, Sweetness, Queen, and My Motivation.
-Not good at expressing his affection through speech (bro I feel u) but excels at writing love letters to you, which he will never give to you in person--he'll just leave them lying around and hope you notice them.
-In order to escape teasing from Dante, he refuses to participate in any kind of PDA, no matter how small. He will, at the very most, hold your hand, but only when Dante is not around and if you ask nicely.
-Behind closed doors, however, things are entirely different. You will have yourself a living koala. He will latch onto you and never let go, using his huge frame to keep you pinned to whatever you happen to be lounging on, be it his plastic chair or your living room couch.
-Can't cook. It's a Sparda family curse. You are now tasked with the sacred duty that is producing a meal for this poor dude.
-Once a year, he undergoes his demon mating period--during this time, he gets really grumpy and cuts off all contact with everyone for like a month, the only exception is you.
-That's cause he needs you for something, if ya catch my drift. ;)
-Literally cold as ice, all the time. No matter how much you hold and snuggle him; no matter how many layers of clothes he wears, he's always cold.
-He doesn't feel it though, only you do, and because of that, he wonders why you always want to wrap him up in blankets and cuddle him.
-Complete and utter NERD for books, movies, TV shows, anime and so on. Knows enough about these topics to write an entire wiki but unfortunately must suppress this knowledge to save himself from the agony that is Dante's taunts.
-If you happen to share the same interests as him, then good for you! You two can spend all day holed up at home, geeking out about literally everything like the soul mates you are. 💓
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baronessvonglitter · 2 months
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Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 11 🍒 "I Was Made for Lovin' You"
pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader
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Word count: 5,067
Summary: you and Joel head to a quiet lakeside cabin for a romantic weekend.
WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), fluff, oral (m&f receiving), masturbation, somnophilia, exhibitionism, pet names ('daddy' for Joel, 'babygirl' for reader), protected piv sex (super important guys, always wrap it), first time, romance, idiots in love
Author’s notes: This is it! What we've been waiting for! (🎵Tonight is the night/when 2 become 1🎶) Also: Joel is a KISS fan and you cannot change my mind. He's got such a Dad list of music he'd like to listen to during the Main Event. This was originally one LOOONNNGGG chapter that I chopped in two because 5K, wow, my attention span could never.
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Joel showed you pictures of the cabin in the lake a couple days before you were to leave. It looked rustic yet romantic - just the kind of place he would take you for your first getaway together.
"You really booked it for us?" you'd asked, touched by the gesture. Though you trusted Joel, part of you expected to be let down, simply because you were used to it.
"Didn't I say you could trust me?" he'd said, a little twinkle in his eye as he lifted your chin to give you a soft kiss.
Now it's Friday morning. By the end of the day you will be a new person, or so you hype yourself for what will happen with Joel. He's been insistent that nothing needs to happen this weekend if you aren't quite ready. But when you look at him in the most commonplace of moments and you see the way his eyes scrunch up so adorably when he laughs, or the way he licks his lips right after kissing you, as if to savor your taste; the feel of his beard gently scratching your inner thighs, and you can't imagine sharing yourself with anyone else.
The sun is barely rising in the sky, casting a pale blue light on all it touches. You remember as a kid, waking up early to get ready to leave on a long car trip. That same sense of expectation, of adventure, is heavy in the air.
Joel picks you up in his truck out front. Sofia is home and you risk the chance that she'll spot you from her window, but all is still. The world is quiet. Even the Adlers next door to Joel are likely still asleep. Everything about this morning is giving you the green light. Go. The world is yours.
You put your travel bag in the back, next to Joel's, and you spot a guitar case as well. When you get in the passenger seat you greet him with a kiss and he hands you a Dunkin' Donuts coffee. "The competition?" you narrow your eyes at him. "Rude. But I'll take it."
"This weekend is all about tryin' new things," he says with a barely-contained grin. "With respect to your boundaries, of course."
"I hold all the cards, Joel." You smirk, putting on your seat belt.
"That you do, sweetheart, that you do."
A little more awake after the first sip of coffee you motion to the backseat. "Is that your guitar?"
"Yeah, I play now and then."
"I've literally never seen you with it. You could have serenaded me at any time these past few weeks."
"I regret that I haven't done so, and I promise to do just that. I'll sing below your bedroom window at midnight and hope and pray that you'll give me some of your attention, maybe even let me in if your cousin's not home," he teases.
You drive west, away from the rising sun, towards skies that just barely lighten as you pass. The radio's on but the music doesn't register. You're just soaking up this time with him, his hand on your lap while his eyes focus on the road.
"About that.. So, Tommy and Sofia.." you start.
Joel chuckles. "Yeah, that really came outta left field."
"He never let on to you about it?"
"Nope. But I guess it's been kinda obvious in hindsight."
"Do you think we've been obvious?"
Joel frowns a little in thought. It's one of the expressions you love about him. "Nah, I don't think so. People probably think you're at my house for Sarah, which isn't far from the truth."
Sarah, who's become the link between you and Joel. There are times you feel really bad about using her as an excuse, and you have to wonder how much she knows, if she's caught on to what exactly is going on between her friend and her father. She's at Tommy's this weekend, while you and Joel have made your separate alibis. With so many secrets you speculate the possibility of all of them spilling out one day. Then you look at Joel, the way the morning light casts its rays on his handsome profile, and you know that if there's ever a fallout it will be worth it for him.
"I brought some music for us," he says, producing a CD in a clear case. "I thought you might like a little playlist for tonight, something to set the mood."
"That's so sweet," you give him a peck on the cheek and check out the label, handwritten in Joel's small, all-caps scribble.
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You blush as you read the titles, knowing most of them already, and skimming through the rest, love songs from even before Joel's time. "A pretty comprehensive list," you compliment. "You put all this together for me?"
He blushes too. "Sarah helped me find the songs and burn 'em onto the CD."
You giggle. "She had to be weirded out. What does she think you're up to?"
"She probably thinks I'm seein' someone, and she'd definitely be right." His hand squeezes your thigh.
You smile. "Let's have a preview. I've only heard of a few of these." Some of these are your dad's favorites, so of course Joel would like them too. You put thoughts of your father out of your mind and put in the CD, setting it to play at random.
You lace your fingers with his on your lap as KISS starts to play, a bass-heavy rock with passionate lyrics about lovers who are made for each other, and the euphemisms are not lost on you. "You would pick out a bunch of rock anthems," you tease him, moving your hand to his thighs.
He smiles and is quiet for a moment, half-listening to the music with you. "Y'know, I've been thinkin'.."
"About what?"
He sips the dregs of his coffee and clears his throat. "It's a long stretch of road until we get to another town."
"You want me to drive this next half? I don't mind."
Joel chuckles, admiring your naivete. "I was thinkin' you might make this drive more interesting for us." He boldly places your hand on his cock, already hard inside his jeans.
"Joel.." you're partly shocked, though admittedly you're already wet at the thought of going down on him as he's driving.
"That's the only thing I'll ask of you all weekend, I swear," he says, and god damn it, he uses those puppy dog eyes on you.
"Do you think I need that much persuasion?" You massage his erection through his jeans and he hisses in expectation. He shifts his hips and after some careful maneuvering his fly bis open, and your head is in his lap, mouth wrapped around his substantial cock. With one hand Joel pushes your hair back, allowing himself a view of his length going in and out of your mouth. Hearing his grunts and groans turns you on and you desperately thrust your fingers inside you to alleviate your need. This sends Joel over the edge and you feel the twitch of his cock before his warm cum shoots at the back of your throat. You stroke him until he's released every drop, and he strokes your hair lovingly. "That's my girl, sucking up every god damn drop. Now finish what you started," he says, glancing at your shorts as you pull away. "Make yourself cum for me."
"Right now?" you ask in disbelief, licking his saltiness from your lips.
"Right now, babygirl," he says in that deep, husky voice that kindles a fire deep inside you. You scoot back to the passenger side so he can view you better and even though his eyes only flit to you every few seconds, your hand slips under your shorts and into your panties. You tease yourself into a frenzy, wishing it was Joel's fingers instead of your own, but getting the job done nonetheless.
"Does that feel good?" he asks, licking his lips as his eyes go from the road to you.
"Not as good as when you do it," you moan.
"Oh, babygirl," he whispers.
Your fingers rub over your clit in a flurry of movements. The sheer danger of what you're both doing is intoxicating. The breeze blows through the open window, lifting your strands of hair as you skillfully bring yourself to climax. Joel thinks he's never seen a prettier sight, this image of you is burned into his brain, etched onto his heart. When you're done he grabs your hand and licks your fingers. "You're always makin' a mess ford Daddy to clean up, aren't ya?"
"How else am I gonna get your attention?" you tease him.
"You're impossible," he shakes his head and you take the wheel a moment as he starts to carefully put himself away and zip up. You've elicited the dopiest grin from him.
"I won't be impossible after tonight," you counter with a sly smile.
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The cabin on the lake is just as picturesque as in the brochure, like something out of a movie, quaint and rustic, with a wooden pier leading out to the lake. "I love it," you tell him excitedly.
"I hoped you would." He smiles at you and puts your belongings inside, insisting you don't need to lift a finger. Inside it's cozy, bucolic. The only room that stays in your memory is the bedroom - boasting a king size bed with a quilted coverlet and the furniture made of cherry, or so Joel tells you. The craftsman in him is impressed with the workmanship, but when you stretch out on the bed to test its comfort and sturdiness, his thoughts turn carnal. "You don't know how fuckin' hot you are, do ya? Or maybe you do and you're just gettin' my blood boilin' on purpose.."
"Whatever do you mean?" you playfully lounge on the bed, posing provocatively.
He growls and practically pounces on you. "You're lucky I have patience, babygirl. Besides, I gotta make a little trip out to get groceries and some other things we might need."
"But we just got here.." you do your best to give what you think is a sexy pout.
"I know," he rumbles. "But I have a surprise in store and I'd rather you didn't see it."
You're thrilled to see what kind of surprise Joel has in mind for tonight. You give him one more kiss. "I guess I'll just lay here waiting for you to return.. building up a fantasy about you in my head."
He chuckles and gives you another quick kiss. "I'll try not to be gone too long. Be good."
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After he leaves you change into your swimsuit and grab a towel. It's in the high 90s today. The sun is brilliant in the cloudless sky. It's essentially a perfect day, as if the universe knows it's your last day as a virgin.
You spray yourself with sunscreen, vowing to get Joel to help you with this chore the next time, and lay out on the deck upon the towel. The lake is quiet but for the faraway sounds of a boat. The neighbors are scarce and it's highly unlikely you'll run into anyone during your stay. A gentle breeze blows across the lake, cooling you off a bit. Smiling, you put on your sunglasses and drift off to a nice nap.
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You dream of Joel, of his head between your legs, his tongue tickling your clit. You sigh and pull him closer.
"You taste so good, babygirl," he murmurs. "But I thought you were gonna wait on that bed for me."
Giggling, you open your eyes to see that Joel really is there, eating you out while you're laying out on the deck. You're too turned on to protest, sitting upon your elbows to watch as he delicately moves the bottom of your swimsuit to rasp his tongue along your slit.
"Joel.. here?" you find the breath to say.
His eyes flicker up to yours, smiling before he licks another stripe up your crease, ending at your clit which he suctions between his lips, making you arch up, fingers tangled in his hair. "You taste like sunshine and coconut," he says, avidly tasting you.
Your veins are liquid fire, your entire being pulsing with sensualism. In fact you barely register the sounds of a boat passing by, and when you turn your head to the side it's too late to hide. A small group of people on board start whooping and hollering, shouting lewd encouragement as they pass. You glance between your thighs to see Joel's face quite red, and he flips them the middle finger, nonetheless persisting in his pleasurable task. "They can't see us from that far, babygirl," he assures you. "They don't know who we are."
It's hard for you to explain that you like it, that people's eyes on you in such a private moment is quite a turn on. You press yourself against his mouth and he readily accepts, filling you with his tongue, caressing it over your pussy, the tip of his nose nudging your clit before he fully takes you into his mouth and holds down your thighs as you quiver and shake, your sweet sounds filling his ears as your sweet juices fill his mouth.
After, he carefully cleans you up with the towel and rearranges your swimsuit bottom. He does all this with a care that seems to melt your heart. The boat with its passengers is long gone, as if you'd dreamt it.
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At the cabin you both rinse off and freshen up for dinner. Joel treats you to to a meal of grilled steak, baked potato and salad. After laying in the sun so long you've grown hungry and as you see the feast laid before you, you're impressed.
"This all looks amazing, Joel," your mouth waters. "You really did all this for me?"
He pulls out a chair for you. "This weekend is all about you," he says, voice full of love. You can't keep a smile off your face throughout the entire meal. No one's ever made you feel this special before. Everything is delicious, and when you compliment Joel on his culinary prowess he just blushes and says it's no big deal, but it's evident he's pleased by your reaction.
The moment is surreal as you hold hands over the table, both of you thinking of the next move. You gaze at him, head resting on your hand. "We've been very honest and open with each other and I think that bodes really well for our relationship.. so can I ask.." you turn bright red. "Obviously tonight will be my first time, but.. when was the last time you.. you know?"
He smiles a little, looking thoughtful. "Probably a few months ago. March or April. She wasn't anyone special," he feels compelled to tell you.
You nod. "Okay. What about your first time? What was that like?"
This time his smile is genuine and you can tell he's remembering something meaningful. "Well, I was fifteen. She was the same age. We sort of dated in high school. You know how it is." You smile as he strokes your hand with his fingers. "What matters is now. I'm gonna make tonight so special for you."
"It already is." You squeeze his hand. He pats his lap and you go to him, your heart warm and glowing as you take your seat and his arms wrap around you.
"We're gonna take our time with everything," he says. "There's no rush. It's all about you."
His words alone cause a rush of sensation to your core. "Will you still want me after I'm no longer a virgin?"
He smiles and kisses your cheek. "Are you serious? Of course I'm still gonna want you. I'll probably want you even more after I've made you mine. And if I could, I'd make you mine every day."
There's a fluttering in your chest, as if your heart has grown wings. "I'm only ever going to be yours, Joel.. no one else will have me the way you will. No one else will know me that way."
His deep brown eyes are filled with lust and longing. "Babygirl, that's a big promise to make. And you're so young.."
"I mean it," you stroke his hair and nuzzle his neck, taking in his scent. "I can't wait to feel all of you."
Joel's response is a guttural growl as his arms possessively encircle you.
"Joel.. I want you to own me, to claim me from everyone else."
"You belong with me, you have since day one. Nobody is ever gonna take you away from me. Christ, I've never been so addicted to a woman before." And he claims your mouth, tongue invading and tasting as he lifts you up and places you on the table, hooking your legs around his waist. He presses his hips to you, letting you feel how much he needs you. Your body molds to his naturally, and he continues to press against you, teasing you with his hardness.
"You gonna take me right here?" you ask, only half-joking.
"You deserve better than to be fucked on top of a table your very first time," he smirks and leans in, his lips hovering over yours. "But don't worry: one of these days we'll do exactly that."
You whimper his name and it nearly undoes him. He's tempted to clear the table with just a swipe of his arm and lay you down, fucking you until you scream his name. "Wait," he groans. "I wanted to surprise ya. I said I'd make tonight special." He pulls himself away from you. "Can I trust you to be a good girl and stay here while I get everything ready?"
"What kind of surprise? Tell me," you insist with innocent glee.
"Girl, if I tell ya it won't be a surprise," he laughs.
You promise to be on your best behavior as he goes to set up the bedroom. You want desperately to sneak a peek, to see Joel Miller planning a romantic night, but you keep true to your word and wait, albeit impatiently.
Finally Joel returns and, smiling, takes your hands in his to lead you to the bedroom. The lighting is dimmed, the only source of illumination comes from the two bedside lamps and a dozen LED candles glimmering around the room. The bedspread is adorned with a spill of red, pink, and white rose petals; their fragrance is sweet in the air. Music is already playing over the sound system, but later you won't even remember what it is, just that everything is perfect, and you tell Joel so.
"You mean it?" He puts his arms around you from behind. "You deserve all the attention and all the romance. I didn't want to half-ass this." He studies your face, memorizing every emotion that shows on your uniquely beautiful features. "You make me feel good about myself. I've never really had this before.. you're my angel, my everything. I love you."
It's as if everything has clicked into place. Every moment has led to this. "And I love you, Joel.. I love you and I want you." You press a soft kiss to his lips, cupping the back of his head with your hand. As he returns the kiss you press your body to his, eager to feel all of him. His tongue slips past your lips, tangling with yours as the anticipation grows between you. Stepping back from him you begin to undress. You've done this a dozen times in front of him, but tonight is distinct in its significance.
Joel helps you, his hands gentle in their aid as your top comes off, then your shorts. Your new bra and panties, purchased just for this occasion, leave little to the imagination, and you feel sexy and powerful beneath Joel's gaze. Kissing you again he deftly unclasps your bra, freeing your breasts and cupping them in his large palms. He trails his kisses down your neck, across your breasts, down your belly, until he's on his knees before you. There's a mischief and a hunger in his eyes as he gently pulls down your panties. Your breath hitches as he comes close, inhales your scent, nudges the tip of his nose against you as his warm breath caresses your skin and you gasp when at last his tongue delicately rasps against your folds. He gently parts your thighs, making slow and deliberate licks, then opening you up with his fingers. Biting your lip you give a shuddering sigh as your head leans back, fingers sliding through Joel's hair as his tongue fucks you and he gently sucks on your swollen pussy lips before spoiling your clit. His hands firmly cup your ass, pulling you to him, needfully.
You cum quickly, excited at what the night will bring, and you feel Joel place you on the bed. "Daddy I'm going crazy over here," you moan, your body aflame with desire, with the need to be his. You sit on your knees on the bed, watching him undress and stop him when his erection springs free. "I want to kiss it," you whisper, and lean forward to place a gentle kiss on the tip, tasting a drop of his salty precum. Joel is so hard it hurts and he does everything in his power not to cum when you tease him with your mouth. Sucking his broad tip, licking the underside, hollowing out your cheeks as you fit the first few inches of him in your mouth. "God, babygirl.. I want you so much," he whispers.
You get under the covers, pushing the blankets down so your body exposed to him. "Come here and take what's yours." Joel takes a deep breath and gets on the bed with you, hungry eyes taking in the sight of you and his hands follow suit, tracing the curve of your hips, watching goosebumps rise on your skin.
"Do you have any condoms?" you remember to ask.
"Of course," he smiles and reaches into the bedside drawer. You watch as he removes a foil packet, the label boasting the biggest size, and watch as he carefully rolls it on. You're transfixed by the movements, the way he sheathes his cock in the latex barrier. He touches you gently between your thighs, spreading your wetness around. "You don't have to worry. I'm gonna take care of you.." He kisses you long, slowly, deeply, making you melt. He's pressed hot and hard against your thigh, and you recognize a longing so deep and powerful. You keep your eyes on him as you make room for him between your legs.
He's hovered over you, pressed eagerly at your entrance. His heart beats against yours, so intimate and right. "Joel.. tell me you love me."
He gives you another kiss and gazes into your eyes as he breathes your name. "I love you, so god damn much."
"I love you too, Joel." Sighing, you lift your hips against his. He glides his length over your cunt, teasing your clit. Then he slides two fingers in, pumping gently, in awe of your tightness and your heat. His breath quickens as your hips move against his hand. "Joel, please.." you whimper, and remove his hand, overeager for him to really take you.
Joel takes a deep breath and utters another "I love you" as he gently starts to press into you. You take in the first few inches and he stops when you show discomfort. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he whispers.
You shake your head, heart racing at top speed as your desire to truly be his is the strongest feeling within you. "Don't stop," you tell him.
Joel exhales sharply and tries his best to be gentle as he nudges further. "Look at me," he says, gently cupping your face as he buries himself within you in one smooth thrust. There's a tightness, a pinch of pain that reminds you how inexperienced you are. Joel is warm and solid inside you, and he's not even all the way in yet. He registers the look of discomfort on your face and he pauses. "Babygirl did I hurt you? I'm sorry if I did, I just.." he kisses your neck over and over again. "I'm sorry," he murmurs.
"Joel, it's okay." Your breath hitches in the relevance of this moment. "Can you go a little gentle?"
Joel nods. "Yeah, of course, anything," he says, and slows down, gently kissing your neck. "I'll be as gentle and soft as you want me to be." He presses gently on your clit as he moves against you slowly, carefully, lovingly. As the pleasure of this overrides the twinge of pain, you open for him naturally, and begin gently moving with him as he carves out a space deep inside you that's just for him, that no one else will be able to fill.
So this is what it's like.. you smile and kiss him. "You feel good."
He's holding back, overwhelmed by how fucking perfect this moment is. "You feel amazing, babygirl. Like nothing I've ever felt before." He moves his hips just a little faster, holding you a little tighter. You gasp, but the friction feels so good and the discomfort eases away. Joel listens to your sounds, gauges your reactions as he moves in a little bit deeper, a little bit faster. You tell him when it's too much and he slows down until you're used to it and he continues. "I love you so much.. so god damn much," he whispers.
Soon you're matching him movement for movement. "I love you," you say, wrapping your limbs around him. His hands travel the length of your legs and he moves up, hands on your hips as he watches himself move in and out of you, disappearing into your cunt inch by inch and reappearing, glistening with your slick arousal. You pay attention to how he moves, how he breathes, the warmth of his kisses on your skin, the strength of his arms and power of his hips. "I want it all, Joel," you tremble with need. "Daddy, please," Your body is flushed, excited, on edge. Joel picks up speed, a sense of urgency to him now. He's so deep inside, finally fully connected with you, giving you every single inch with each powerful thrust. "Oh my god.." your eyes pop open as a large and looming feeling begins to take over. "Joel.. I think.. I'm gonna cum!"
His smile is warm and there's pure desire in his eyes, "Yeah, babygirl, keep going. Let it take over." You nod and close your eyes, feeling Joel's movements and your own until your body tenses up, experiencing a great wave of pleasure engulf you, over and over again. You moan his name. It takes every ounce of willpower not to cum when you squeeze and clamp around him, your inner walls fluttering. He watches your face, so beautiful in ecstasy that it near stills his heart. He'd promised you something you'd never forget and he was fully intent on making this the best night of your life. He slows his movements. Your body is so pliant beneath his, moving as he wishes.
You've just come down from your high, smiling, sated, a little sweaty. He's made you cum before but never with his cock inside you. It's a different experience, more intimate. "Joel.. you're so good," is all you can say.
He smiles down at you. "It's that good, huh? You just feel so perfect right now." He starts up again, gliding more easily inside you now that you've cum, now that he's opened you to him. Despite all the women he'd been with before, this time with you feels like he's just discovering the pleasures of sex for the very first time.
You've never felt more powerful, full of joy. Joel grasps your hips and maneuvers you on top. You feel him even deeper, if that's even possible. And now you have control. You move at your own pace, moaning at how he's still stretching you. You roll your hips slowly, savoring the feel of him, and watching him beneath you give you a sense of power.
"My god," Joel moans, his large hands on your hips, fingers digging into your skin, "I'm gonna die, you feel so fuckin' good. Fuck me, babygirl." He's so weak for everything you're doing.
Head thrown back you ride him, chasing your pleasure. Joel bites his tongue, trying his best not to cum right away, wanting this moment to last as long as possible. You brace yourself on his chest, eyes closed, breath panting. "Joel! Joel!"
He groans. "I fuckin' love when you moan my name." He rises up as the heat builds up inside him. "I want to cum with you, baby. Keep going.. almost there," he whispers passionately. His hands grab your ass, guiding you smoothly up and down his cock. He loves that you're a sweaty, writhing mess, and all because of him. Arms wrapped around him, the pleasure overtakes you and you let it, surge after powerful surge radiating between you, and Joel buries his face in your neck as he whimpers, twitching inside you as he comes.
You're left light-headed for a moment, still trying to catch your breath. The pleasure resonates through you, not letting you out of its grasp yet. "Oh.. my god," you mumble.
Joel presses a kiss to your neck and gently parts from you. Your brows furrow from the loss of him as he settles you on the pillows. After discarding of the condom he lays with you, studying your features in the mood lighting. "Are you okay?" he asks, kissing your forehead.
"Yes.. I'm wonderful." Your smile is one of idiotic bliss, despite the slight throbbing, the dull ache of giving yourself to him. "It was so much better than I imagined," you sigh.
He wraps you in his arms, treating you as if you're the most precious object in the world.
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fever pitch (b.b.) - part two
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soundtrack: lavender haze - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: you and Bradley go on a date. they say the wrong things --or right things-- and surprise each other as they get to know each other better. warnings: language, so much unresolved tension, mentions of character deaths, fluffy heartfelt stuff, but also like sexy stuff 👀 notes: i had so much fun writing this! special shoutout to @gretagerwigsmuse who had to deal with my annoying thots at all hours. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated as always. happy reading! <3
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Subject: Guest Attendance Confirmation From: [email protected]
Dear Madam,
Thank you for confirming your information regarding your upcoming visit to Annabel’s.
It is our pleasure to host you for your dinner reservation on the 23rd of March, 2023, as a guest of our member Mr. Bradley Bradshaw. We hope that you have a wonderful experience dining and entertaining at the Club with us.
In order to ensure your positive and memorable experience with us, we kindly ask all members and guests to be aware of a few key rules of the Club:
DRESS CODE. We encourage individuality and style in your smart attire. After 6PM, gentlemen are required to wear jackets. Read the full dress code guidelines here.
PHONE & PHOTOGRAPHY. As a Private Members’ Club, we kindly ask Members and Guests to refrain from taking photographs within the Club’s premises. Posting content to your social media from your visit to the Club is not permitted. Phones must be kept on silent at all times and are only permitted for use in limited areas of the Club.
For guidance, read the Rules & Bylaws of the Club here.
If you require further information or assistance, please do not hesitate to reach out through this email address or by phone at +44 20 7946 0011.
Thank you and see you soon.
Best wishes, Maude Adams Floor Manager.
***
You’re not sure why you’re bracing for something to go wrong.
The restaurant is rife with opulence, with rich chartreuse and bronze walls and Japanese-style paintings over classic British architecture. Bradley booked a little corner booth just off the fireplace, the privacy still granting a nice view of the grandiose bar across the room. He pulled up your chair and told you that you look beautiful—a good three or four times, and it feels just as genuine as the first. With your show and his training the next day, you both had to pass on the booze and settle with some green tea to go with your food. Conversation flows effortlessly, exploring easy topics like your shared love of old movies, the Venn diagram of your music tastes, the novelty of the sport that he plays…
“Okay, but how did you get into soccer—I mean, football?” You smile sheepishly as you correct yourself. “Sorry. Wouldn’t wanna get maimed to death by the locals.”
He laughs. “Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.” And then he takes a deep breath as his finger toys with the condensation on the side of his glass. ��It’s… uh, my dad, actually. He bought me a soccer ball for Christmas when I was like 2 and… it’s most of the memories I had with him, playing kickabout in the backyard.”
“Oh?”
He smiles—diplomatically, all things considered. “He died when I was 4.”
Your face falls. Fuck. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry…”
“Nah, don’t be. It was a long time ago. And I feel like he’s with me every time I step on the pitch.” Bradley nods, ever so reassuring. He’s had enough ‘I’m sorry’s’ for every time his dad comes up in conversation, and he doesn’t want you to feel obliged to do the same.
“But hey, I think it’s wonderful… that he’s right there in spirit with you every game.” You smile back, trying to save this slip-up in conversation. “And I bet your mom’s really proud of you, right?”
To his own surprise, he chuckles. It really is true that tragedy plus time equals comedy. “I mean, I like to think so.” He notices your questioning look, and realizes he needs to let you in on the joke too. “My mom died when I was 17. Cancer. I moved out here and lived with my godfather. Got scouted for Arsenal.”
And there it is.
You’ve been so worried about all the external factors going wrong, that you didn’t consider that the faulty one might be you. 
The clinks of plates and cutleries suddenly become so loud. The subtle piano playing over the speakers sound garbled, like you’re underwater. And the salmon sashimi in your mouth tastes like lead now. How the fuck does lightning manage to strike twice?! 
“I’m sorry, I…” and now you can’t even muster up a proper apology, because what do you even say?! The only thing that comes out of your mouth is a lame excuse, “I… thought it was a good idea not to Google you.”
His heart catches at the sight of you, all wide-eyed and dumbstruck. You wouldn’t believe it if he told you, but he thinks he might have just fallen in love with you there. Foot in mouth and all.
But you… you think you must’ve looked so stupid right now. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed—”
“No, no, no. It’s alright!” Bradley quickly interjects, that twinkle of amusement in his eyes still lingers. “I appreciate it, actually. I’ll take awkward moments with you over anything else you can Google about me.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Of course. I mean… it’s not like you killed them, did you?”
There’s a split second of silence, when you meet his playful gaze, and his mouth pulls into a grin over your petrified look, and then… the tension simply melts away in a sigh of tentative laughs. The garbled underwater music has come up to the surface, the dining noises dissipates, and everything turns back to normal… ish.
“Anyway, what about yourself? How did you get into… all of this?”
“Oh, it’s all I’ve ever known, really. Pretty sure I sang before I knew how to talk. I was always pestering my mom about ballet and piano lessons and living room concerts… I was that kid, you know?”
The image makes him smile, and it sends butterflies to your stomach. “Your mom must’ve been thrilled.”
“Eh.” You shrug flippantly, and that non-answer is enough of an answer for Bradley. “But she knew I was stubborn as hell, and she’s better off letting me tire myself out than trying to stop me, so…”
“But you didn’t.”
You shake your head. “By 5, I was on Broadway—”
His jaw falls open, and he looks at you like grew a new head. “I’m sorry. Five years old?”
You raise your hand in defense, not wanting to oversell yourself. “To be fair, though, it was mostly luck. My mom was working in the theater company and they needed a kid, so I volunteered to stand in—I mean, naturally,” you roll your eyes at yourself, “And they liked me. So they put me on. But I didn’t have to do anything but pretend to be asleep while the adult cast carried me around.”
“Still. That’s more than most people can say. You continued doing it afterwards, right?”
“Mm-hm. Stage, commercials, TV, the occasional movies… anything I could get my hands on.”
Bradley studies you with this look of awe—not an unusual reaction, he’s sure; it’s a pretty impressive feat. But he also catches a lost sense of melancholy in the way you say it, and he can’t help but ask, “Did you have a childhood at all?”
And your heart catches. That’s something nobody ever asked you before… “What do you mean?”
He pauses, realizing he may have inadvertently touched on a sensitive subject with this line of questioning. So he tries again more carefully. “I just meant… you’ve been working most of your life. Did you ever just get to be a kid?”
“I…” you trail off, considering your answer. You want to say yes, of course you did, but the little sting in your throat makes you question yourself: did you?
And with the soft look in his eyes, you know he knows the real answer to that. Both of you do.
It’s alarming how disarming he can be, and you would hate it… except you don’t. At least not enough to make you run off. “I guess, being in that kind of environment, I didn’t really know how to be a kid…? If that makes any sense.”
Bradley nods, understanding. He’s not entirely sure how to respond, but he wants to be empathetic.
“I went to school and made friends for a while, but…” Normally this would be an uphill point in your story, but tonight… this part is tinged with distant sorrow. “I got a record deal when I was 15, and suddenly I was living in LA and working in the studio or going on tours and… I just wasn’t a kid anymore.”
It breaks his heart, the thought of a childhood lost on you like that. “Wow. You really have lived a life, haven’t you?” He can’t resist but reaches out for your hand. 
The touch makes your heart catch, and it feels overwhelming. It feels like you’re gonna burst, so you chicken out with a lame joke. “Haven’t slept in 22 years.”
Bradley can’t help but smile at that, squeezing your hand three times in comfort. And just like that, the bubble bursts and the world continues on its axis once again. He finishes his last slice of tuna tataki and washes it down with his konacha.
“You know, for how much you’ve done since you started out, I thought you’d be more… Hollywood.”
You raise an eyebrow in amusement. “Hollywood?”
“Okay, that came out wrong,” he admits bashfully. “I just… you’re very down-to-earth. And real. I guess I expected more, like, an attitude?”
“Oh? I can have an attitude…” you smirk coyly over your tea, “...if you can handle it.”
Fuck. You’re gonna be the death of him. It’s insane how easily you switch from being sweet and vulnerable, to flirty and borderline devilish. But he wasn’t born yesterday, and he knows he’s well-equipped to handle this back-and-forth.
“I think you’d be surprised by what I can handle.”
Oh, here comes the fun part. “Is that right?”
He nods, leaning into you a little bit from across the table. “I think you’d find a lot about me surprising.”
If the whiff of his Tom Ford Black Orchid catches you off-guard, you don’t show it. Instead, you mirror his body language, propping your chin on your knuckles for good measure. “Like what?”
God, he really wants to kiss you… but it’s way too soon, and he doesn’t know how you feel about public displays of affection. “Like… I’m a pretty decent cook. And I like reading.”
“An athlete who can read? My, my…” you smirk teasingly.
Bradley laughs. He walked right into that one. But he’s not ready to admit defeat yet. Instead, he makes use of that bedroom voice girls like so much to push the point further. “That’s right. I know how to use the washing machine, too.”
You bite your lower lip and sigh, shuddering a little from his low rasp but definitely playing up the dramatics. “You do? Mmh…” 
Jesus. If that’s you faking it, he can’t wait to make you all wet and needy for real. “And you wanna know the best part?”
You meet his gaze, and for a moment, the lustful tension is real. “Yeah?”
He leans in just a little closer, head tilting as if he’s moving in for a kiss. Maybe if he throws it out there… “I can put together Ikea furniture.” 
You throw your head back and feigns a quiet but dramatic moan for your one-man audience. “Oh my gosh, I think I just came in my pants a little.”
Fuck. He really wants to make you come now. With his fingers, his tongue, his cock—
Your gaze drops to his mouth, the stupid 80’s pornstache you’ve never been into before this, the soft inviting lips underneath. The ball is in your court now, and you know he would kiss you earnestly if you close the distance…
But you burst out laughing instead. Bradley releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, although your bright laughter doesn’t deter him from thinking dirty thoughts about you. If anything, it just makes you ten times hotter in his eyes.
“Well played. That was a good one,” Bradley concedes, his face turning just a little bit pink.
“We should probably stop before the staff kicks us out for having too much fun,” you lean back into your seat, looking around the restaurant, making sure no one is listening. Squeezing his hand three times as the next course arrives… not entirely putting the kiss off of the table either.
Bradley recommends the vanilla mille crepe to close the meal, and you come up with the idea of sharing a slice. The dessert arrives, a lush little golden brown thing with thin layers of cream in between, so simple and so intricate at the same time. He lets you take the first bite—insists upon it, actually. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.
That, and he wants to watch your face twist in pleasure again. Eyes fluttering closed, chest falling in a sigh, lips parted ever so slightly... God, he can’t wait to be the one responsible for it.
“Amazing, right?” He beams at you, very pleased with himself.
“Mm, it truly is,” you hum in agreement, watching him take a bite. It gives you a naughty idea… “It’s so amazing, I might just hijack this whole thing.” You jokingly pull the plate a little closer to you.
Bradley playfully holds the plate back, looking faux offended. “Hey! Come on. You know I’m a little bit stronger than you, right?”
“Please. That’s never stopped me before.” 
“Really?”
“I have my ways…” your finger reaches out just enough to touch his, just slightly.
Between that and your eyes darkening in mischief, Bradley fights hard not to turn into goo under your slightest touch. He bites the inside of his cheek to contain himself. “You’re really making me earn this, aren’t you?”
“Why? Girls never gave you a hard time before, Mr. Big Time Football Man?”
He laughs. “No. But you’re probably the only one giving me this hard a time for a bite of dessert.”
“Is that all we’re playing for? A bite of dessert?” you smirk, egging him on.
“What else do you think we’re playing for here?” He takes a second bite, maintaining eye contact as he does so.
You take another bite and lick the cream off of your fork. “I don’t know. A bite of… something else?”
Ah. So we are interested. Bradley is unfazed as he gently warns you, “Careful. I might take you up on that.”
“Good. I was hoping you would.”
The tension rises as reality sinks in. You both want to fuck, and looking at the trajectory of the evening, there’s a good chance you will. And it sobers you the hell up, pulling you both straighter in your seats. Sharing the slice of cake in quiet civility. Keeping a completely respectable distance, as if worried you don’t trust yourself not to climb over the table and kiss him senseless. 
But the game… oh, the game is on.
“I don’t know about you, but… I was thinking maybe a few bites, though.”
“Oh?”
“Oh, yeah. I intend to explore every part of this… dessert.”
You stop chewing for a moment. There’s something so hot about how he says it so casually. “That’s… very optimistic of you.”
“Not optimistic enough to decide if kissing you out here was a good idea,” he admits sheepishly.
“Why is that?”
Bradley shrugs. “Just a hunch.”
He’s right, of course. He didn’t choose an ultra-exclusive, members-only establishment with a no-phone policy just for kicks. He sees the security detail that follows you around, lurking at a safe distance—from back at the club. And tonight, you’re traveling light with just two bodyguards, each strategically posted near you and the exit, but it’s still more than he’s ever encountered. There’s no way you would risk a first kiss in public, no matter how discreet the place is. No matter how much you like him.
And you like him a whole lot.
“Tell you what…” you put the fork down as quietly as you can. This is the moment of truth. “I’ll let you kiss me all you want back at my hotel, hm?”
Bradley’s eyes light up instantly. He takes a moment, not so much to consider his options, but to process what’s about to happen. “I would like that very much, yes.”
“Alright, then. Shall we?” you smile brightly, flagging the waiter for the check.
“Uh, yeah. Totally. We shall,” he stammers a little, recovering fast enough to snatch the check and slips his credit card in the tab. Barely addressing the waiter as they walk back to the till.
It all happens so fast, and you whine in complaint. “Oh, come on!”
“What, was I supposed to let you pay or something?”
“You were supposed to let me pretend to fight for it, at least…” you huff.
He smiles in amusement. You are so adorable, it makes his heart fucking swell. “Okay. Next time I’ll let you pretend. I’ll even give you a little pushback for good measure, how about that?”
“Perfect.”
“Now, let’s go back to your hotel and… I don’t know, pretend you have to try really hard to resist my charms.”
“Yeah, okay.” You chuckle in agreement. This is really happening. Wow. And just as the excitement sets in, another point of concern pops up in your head, like a really annoying notification. “Did you drive here or…?”
He nods. “You wanna take my car?”
“No, I got a car waiting for me…” you smile apologetically, glancing at her bodyguard. There’s no way they’re gonna let you jump into some guy’s car. “And there’s gonna be paps out front…” Here comes the tricky part. “Would you… mind if we… go separately and meet up at my hotel?”
Oh. Bradley’s face falls a little upon realizing that he can’t just walk out the door with you. He sees how this works. You don’t want the media to jump on this first date, and it’s actually a smart move. Besides, what’s a few more minutes to a whole night of complete privacy? “Sure, no problem.”
You nod tentatively. Well, that was surprisingly easy… “And just to be clear, this has nothing to do with you. It’s just… this whole thing can be a circus, and I don’t want you to deal with anything you didn’t sign up for.”
He smiles at you. Bless you for being so thoughtful, but it does make him wonder if other people have had trouble with it. But maybe that’s a question for another time. “Hey, I totally understand. We’ll just meet up at the hotel and leave it at that.”
“I’ll text you, okay?”
You squeeze his hand gently before you get up, making your way out of the restaurant. Powering through the camera flashes as soon as you walk out of the front door. Giddy because you know something these vultures don’t.
Meanwhile, Bradley sits. Waits. For one minute, and two, and three. Looking at people walking in and out, wondering how inconspicuous he would be if he walks out now.
And then…
His phone buzzes.
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localplaguenurse · 2 months
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Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt.3
Hello! A part three has arrived! This chapter also triples as a birthday present to @thedeimoshimself AND a happy two year lazzo anniversary! It's been two years hoyo where the FUCK is Pantalone?!
Notes: Sfw (why do I keep saying that, I don't have plans to make this NSFW), reader's dad is fully an asshole, slight homophobia and ableism? No slurs but like implied homophobia and reader is slightly infantilized over his condition by his mother
Pt.1, pt.2
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If the occasional sight of Pantalone walking out of your father’s office didn’t give it away, the increasing arguments between your parents told you that somehow the man convinced the Regrator to become his business partner. You assume it’s purely on your father’s actual management skills, as there’s not a chance Pantalone found his first few impressions charming. Perhaps it helps that your father’s business shrinking down is more a result of a changing job market than it is any actual incompetence. That’s what you’ve heard, anyways. You were never a business major so most of what your father says goes in one ear and out the other.
Additionally, your father has been kissing Pantalone’s ass ever since the two started working together, and most of it comes in the form of inviting him over for dinner, where he will regale the Harbinger with a fascinatingly mundane tale or a business tactic that Pantalone has surely already mastered. You’re a rare guest at these dinners, choosing to work on your book instead.
Still, in the rare moments where you and Pantalone share the same space, you have to admit he’s pleasant company. He’s polite, and when he inquires about your work, he listens intently to your answer. You’ve also learned he’s a rambler, going on tangents the length of all your published works combined. It gets overwhelming whenever the subject is about Snezhnaya’s financial state or the profit margins of the Northland Bank, but his magnetic voice lures you in anyways. When you pass him by, you catch a whiff of a floral cologne, though it’s so fleeting and subtly you can never place the flower itself. Nothing that would grow in Snezhnaya. 
… It would not be inaccurate to say you have the most littlest of crushes on Pantalone, but nothing more. He’s a conventionally attractive man with a soothing voice and nice taste in perfume. He also talks to you like he would your father, never with an air of pity or condescension like your family does. Naturally you’d be drawn to this.
Your mother has stopped mentioning her discomfort over the partnership because she has grown tired of arguing about it. She regards the Harbinger with politeness, as she would with any other guest, but makes herself scarce unless her presence is absolutely necessary. She thinks it’s hypocritical of your father to claim downsizing would be a black mark on your family’s reputation, but partnering with the Fatui for monetary gain is much better. She hates the thought of him being around you and your siblings, especially you.
You tie the twine wrapped around the stack of paper on your desk tight, ensuring none of the pages come loose. “I can handle him just fine.”
“He’s a Harbinger, you don’t just get that rank the moment you join the Fatui! You don’t get that sort of ranking or title through goodhearted, honest work.”
“I know.”
“Especially him. Being a charismatic and intelligent business man is his most notable trait. Who knows what sort of manipulative tricks he has up his sleeve?”
You turn around, your mother briefly passing through your field of vision, before you see your bed, and the open briefcase on top of it. Picking up the latest chapter’s draft, you make your way over to your bed. “So when he asks me how my writing is going, or what I’ve been up to lately, do I just ignore him?”
“Obviously not,” your mother replies, “but just… I don’t like him talking to you.”
“I’m a grown man,” you respond, dropping the draft into your briefcase, “not a child. I will survive a little bit of small talk with him when we cross paths.”
“Just watch what you say around him,” your mother insists, “he’s the kind of man that will find any weakness and exploit him, and–”
“I have many.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.”
You slam the briefcase and look up at your mother. “For the last time, I am not a child!” You lift your hand and curl your index finger and thumb into a small hole. “Just because this is what I deal with everyday doesn’t mean you have to keep coddling me!”
Silence hangs in the air as your mother stares at you, eyes wide and lip trembling. Irritation gives way to pity once again. You know she means well. You know she feels guilt. You know she blames herself for your shortcomings and frustrations.
You sigh. “Sorry, it’s the deadline,” you tell her, “I’m just stressed over the next chapter, I shouldn’t have yelled.”
“No, n-no, it’s alright,” your mother assures you. She approaches you, cupping your face in her hands so that you can only see her pitiful smile. She kisses your cheek. “I shouldn’t be burdening you with my ranting.”
And you promised to stop breathing down my neck so much. “I might be home late,” you tell her, “once I submit the chapter, my editor and I are going out to dinner.”
“You’ll have a much better dinner than I,” she jokes, though there’s a lack of humour in her eyes, “your father is entertaining Lord Pantalone tonight.”
You raise your brow. “Didn’t they meet up like two nights ago?”
“I don’t know anymore,” your mother replies, exasperated, “I feel like every other night I have to have that man in my home.”
You laugh. “Better him than the Doctor, right?”
“Oh don’t even joke about that,” your mother says.
You shrug your shoulders in response. You turn to your bed again, reaching down to secure your briefcase’s latches so your draft doesn’t spill out again. Once it’s closed up tight, you grasp the handle and lift it up off the bed. Your mother gives you another kiss on the cheek as you say goodbye, that you’ll probably be back once the Regrator’s left the estate. She wishes you luck, and lets you leave your room.
“Anyways, all this to say it couldn’t have been a more textbook example of fraud, like the exact scenario I would have brought up during an interview to test what a new teller would do in that hypothetical situation,” Pantalone recounts, laughing at the sheer absurdity of the situation.
Your father, sat in a chair across from Pantalone, chuckles as one of the maids fills up his second glass of wine. The flames of the fireplace reflect off the crystal clear glass. “Really? It was that obvious?”
“Really!” Pantalone laughs. “I admit, I actually had to look around at the rest of the tellers and the people in line, because I needed to know if I was the only one who was seeing this, or if I was being pranked. It was that bad. The teller who brought this to my attention, she was fully convinced I had sent them in as some sort of test to see if they were all conducting transactions properly.”
“That’s the sort of thing that would get your ass kicked,” your father remarks, taking a sip of his now full glass. 
“I would phrase that less crudely, but yes, very much. Rest assured, they were swiftly removed from the premises and banned from all current establishments.”
Your dad whistles. “Y’see, this is why I knew us working together was such a good idea,” he says, “because you know how to handle trouble, and you make sure your employees know how to handle it too.”
Pantalone nods. “I believe that in order for us to truly take control of the money we use in our everyday lives, you must ensure the people handling your money know what they’re doing. Archons? Well, they don’t need mora, so they don’t really care where it goes or how it’s used or whose hands it falls into. We need to keep track of it all, because we can’t just will it into existence.”
“It’s why I’m proud of my children,” your father says, taking a noticeably larger sip of his wine. “They’re all hard workers. My eldest girl, she’s been working with me since she was a teen, she’ll inherit the business when I retire. My oldest boy’s a doctor, saves lives everyday and goes home to his wife and children. My second daughter, she’s a lawyer, ah what’s it called… I forget the name, but she does workplace accidents and whatnot, makes sure people are compensated for their injuries. My youngest girl is studying medicine at the Akademiya, wants to be like her big brother.”
Pantalone nods along to the man’s tipsy rambling, but pauses once he does the math. He recalls a conversation he had with you on a previous visit, and gives your father a perplexed smile. “What of your other son?”
“Hm?”
“Your son. The writer. The one who’s going blind?”
“You’ve met him, I don’t need to tell you anymore about him.”
Pantalone leans forward in his chair. “I’m just curious why you didn’t mention him as one of the children you’re proud of.”
“I am proud of him,” your father states, a noticeable slur in his voice. “I just…he’s different, y’know? He’s not like his siblings. He can’t do surgeries or lawyer things, he just sits in his study and types on that typewriter all day.”
“Hasn’t he been writing professionally for quite some time now?”
“They barely pay the boy! At least I don’t think they pay him much. Not enough for him to move out like his other siblings did.”
Pantalone opens his mouth to further question to rambling man, but both men jump when the unmistakable sound of a door slamming shut echoes from the floor above. It causes the host to spill his drink in his lap.
Pantalone catches a glimpse of your mother passing by the living room’s doorway, and calls out to her. She hesitates, but enters the room. The look of despondence on her face catches her husband’s attention, while the briefcase in her hands catches Pantalone’s.
“The hell was that?” he asks.
Your mother looks like she’s on the verge of tears when she speaks. “Our son’s out of a job.”
“What?”
“The publisher,” she says, “s-something about budget cuts? They said they c-can’t afford to publish his next book. He’s still new compared to the other writers they work with, so they’re only publishing the stories they know will make money. They don’t want to risk it with him, a-and…” She puts down the suitcase, and she wipes the tears from her eyes. “It’s not fair, h-he’s worked so hard and this is how they repay him?!”
Pantalone frowns. “The publishing industry is a harsh one,” he comments.
“Yes, he should be used to it by now,” your father comments.
“Like you have any idea about how his career works!” your mother suddenly snaps. “I don’t see you going to his book signings!”
Your father glares at her. “I’m sorry, but one of us has to work so the other one can stay home all day!”
“Don’t you dare,” she hisses, stepping towards and towering above her husband. “This is not about us, okay, this is about your son! He’s spent so long honing his craft and they just tossed him aside!”
“It’s not that hard to write something! I could be a writer too if I spent all day poking a typewriter! I’d write something actually worth reading.”
“His writing is lovely!”
“‘Course you like it, he writes prissy girly books! What sort of man writes books like that?”
I haven’t told my family I like men yet.
With the shouting from both your parents, your shame laced words echo in Pantalone’s head. If it only takes a glass and a half for your father to blurt that out, it’s no wonder why you two can’t seem to see eye to eye, why you’re ashamed of what you write. Even if he didn’t find you an interesting character, to hear a man talk about his son in this way disgusts him. This is not what Pantalone looks for in his business partners, and he sponsors Dottore.
The two adults stop screaming at each other like children when Pantalone stands up, silently commanding their attention. He gives them both a hard look, your father especially, chastising their behaviour with a mere look. Your mother wipes away angry tears and takes a deep breath, while your father just looks at the ground. Quietly, your mother apologizes and excuses herself for the night.
Your father hardly moves, swirling his glass of wine. He does not lift his head when Pantalone bids him goodnight and goodbye. As such, he does not see Pantalone reach down and grasp the briefcase’s handle.
The halls are empty, silent save for the sounds of Pantalone’s footsteps. When he returns home, he will have to reconsider his affiliation with your father, perhaps after he views the contents of this briefcase. If he had to guess, this is what you were working on the night you made your second first impression on him, or maybe the chapter after that one. 
It isn’t working out with your father, so perhaps it will work out better with you?
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norrisreads · 1 year
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Love Again #LN4
PAIRING: lando norris x wolff reader! Daniel Ricciardo x wolff reader! platonic only
SUMMARY: part 2 to sweetest pie, lando norris and y/n wolff a step closer to a newly found friendship but what does lando know about her?
WARNING: just fluff + more (see for yourself)
FC: lalalalisa_m on ig
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‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
after monaco grand prix
you are currently packing up your things to head home, the event was done and dusted, another verstappen win of course, it did not fazed you at all.
of course, you didn’t bring much but accompanying your family out here for 3 straight days, you had to bring your laptop along to sneak in some edits on your on-going projects.
daniel had gone back with heidi as he plans to attend the after party, of course he invited you, but you weren’t really interested in that life and knowing you’re their opponent team principal daughter, it probably will not be a good image.
Though, your dad did tell you multiple times whatever you’re doing it will never affect him as he does not intend to prohibit you to do things just because you’re his daughter.
“y/n, your phone keeps beeping. you should check it” george walked towards you with your phone in hand. you had to borrow george’s charger as your phone had died mid researching.
“oh, thanks George! heading home straight away?”
“yeah, carmen booked a 4 star restaurant for dinner, will probably need that after today’s result”
“you did great by the way, don’t dwell too much.” you tapped his shoulder and smiled
george smiled , bid his goodbye and made his way towards carmen, which she waved towards you and you did the same
you looked at the notifications you’ve received and laughed, of course a text from norris. ever-since, the interaction the both of you had, you’ve gotten closer even though that literally happened 2 days ago.
he is closer to your age, which is a pros because the both of you had similar humour and would share unfunny memes to each other which ONLY the both of you are able to understand.
you’ve finished packing, and was currently just waiting for your dad to finish his briefing towards the engineers. susie and jack had went off earlier, you agreed on waiting for your dad, though agreeing on that means he’ll be the one riding your motorbike and you’ll be a pillion (which you hate).
thus, while waiting for your dad, you took the time to respond to lando’s texts.
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a/n : i don’t know why the emojis aren’t showing up 😭
Great, now you have a party to attend to.
“done with the packing?” you heard your dad’s voice
“yeah, taking my bike?” you asked while walking behind your dad following his pace
“of course honey, keys please”
you gave your dad your keys and walked towards your motorbike.
“the colour’s great, what’s the colour of your cafe racer back in singapore?”
“of course, you’re always getting the ugly colour papa. you have to let me know on the colours availability next time, it’s black, the other choices they had weren’t my taste. it’s probably yours though, silver just like the vintage cruiser triumph back home.”
your dad had a motorbike back home kept for you in any case you’re interested of inheriting it from him, but it wasn’t really up to your taste. A royal enfield, though is up to your taste.
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danielricciardo: FOUL. y/nwolff not trusting toto wolff????????
georgerussell63: bossman reminiscing youth
landonorris: i’m next
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‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
2245HRS
“someone’s here for you darling” you heard susie voice came from the kitchen
it’s only 1045, why the fuck is lando here already. you’re literally still doing your makeup, leaving with blusher and setting your face.
“i’m still not done yet, can you let him know?” you shouted
“yeah about that, too late y/n” your door swing open, with lando showing up in your childhood room
“you’re early? did you speak to my dad? pissed your pants, yet?”
“ha ha funny. he’s not as scary as I thought of him to be” he took a seat on the edge of your bed
“he’s a great person norris, just team principle things huh?” shifting your chair towards him
“you look great, are you done though?” lando asked you while looking around your room
“yeah just left to set my makeup, don’t touch that” you quickly stood up and snatched the box away from Lando’s grip
“woah woah, what’s that about?”
“nothing it’s just something, thought i threw it away”
lando nodded but in his head, he was deadly curious on the reaction that you gave him, it was just a plain box with the letter m graving, what could the content in the box even possibly be?
“let’s get going, i’m done. my ride or yours?” you turned to lando, holding your keys.
“mine of course, i’m a gentleman”
“yeah, in that fiat jolly of yours?”
“fine, yours then” great.
you went into your dad office, took a extra helmet and gave to lando
“you’ll need this, you’re behind.”
and with that gesture, you made lando’s heart beat faster
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‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
AFTER PARTY
you were currently downing your whatever number of shots, while laughing at lando’s dance move with Carl’s
lando of course, didn’t drink much, prob a glass or two but you, you had quite a lot. Though, you’ll wanna thank your best friend for regularly having drinking sessions in the both of your apartment because this did improve your alcohol intake.
“you go to parties regularly?” heidi sat beside you, and questioned you
you shooked your head
“the alcohol intake speaks otherwise” the both of you laughed
“well, school stress helps ALOT”
you weren’t that close to any of the wags except heidi, she’s literally like a elder sister to you, checking up on you regularly and more. She’s the exact form of daniel just in a female form
“hey, you okay? feeling tipsy?” Lando approached you, taking a seat beside you which led to some of the drivers eyeing each other at the close contact the both of you had
“I’m Okay, slightly tipsy. You okay with riding the bike home, i’ll probably be better pillioned, if you aren’t, i’ll just let my dad know, he’ll probably pick us up”
“ woah, i’m okay with riding home. much better, i do not want toto to think badly of myself. just try and sober up a-bit alright, i’ll get a glass of water for you, stay here”
you agreed and leaned your head back but you then realised the stares you had from daniel, heidi, carlos and the others.
“what?”
“is something going on between the two of you?” charles questioned with that accent of his
“just friends”
“he picked you up today? toto did not say anything to lando?” this time, daniel
you shooked your head, “what’s wrong guys? is there’s something wrong?”
all of them shooked their head and laughed, “we’re just shocked, you’re not that easy to talk to. I’m amazed lando got you smitten over him”
carlos, said out loud handing you a shot.
“me? smitten?” rolling your eyes, downing the shot
before you’re able to down the shot, someone snatched the shot glass away from you
“what the fu-mick?” this time heidi held your hand tightly.
“hey, am i late? sorry y/n, promised toto you shouldn’t drink too much“ there stood in front you was Mick Schumacher smiling widely at you and lando arriving to the scene feeling the tense air between you and mick.
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—✩࿐ end note: that’s all for part 2 of sweetest pie, if you haven’t read part one please do!!!!! i’ll do a part three soon, but in the mean time i hope you enjoy this ♥️
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mariaace · 7 months
Text
Akaashi dating hc's
Pairing:Akaashi x gn!reader
A/n: I've been thinking about Akaashi for quite a few days so i decided to write this☺️🖤
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Ohhh my fav boy from haikyuu!!!😫😫 He is so perfect
So dating Akaashi means basically that you two are like parents to Bokuto. Honestly i wouldn't be surprised if he call you mom/dad one time without realising it😂 it's not like a bad thing though it's nice for both of you.
I am totally convinced that Akaashi's favourite dates are library dates after school. You'll both do your homework (he'll help you out with everything you don't understand) and if you like to read books he will stand and read with you
Akaashi will listen to you talk all day if needed to. He loves to listen to your voice and will drop anything to listen to you. You don't have someone to talk to? Call him. You want to tell someone about your day? Ask him. You want to plamp about a new book/film you've seen? Tell him about it. He is just a great listener.
Akaashi loves to share headphones with you while you listen to music together. It's like calming for him. If you don't have the same taste of music well that's okay with him.
He won't directly hold your hand. Akaashi will simply start by holding pinkies with you untill he actually grab your hand. He is just gentle.
Talking about gentle. Akaashi is very gentle. He has rough hands, because of volleyball. Most of time they might be bandaged, but he will always be gentle while touching, hugging, holding hands etc.
He loves tee. Every time you are at his place to study or just to hang out, Akaashi will make tee for both of you. If you don't like tee he'll make you something else.
Ramen dates!!! The boy loves ramen and i am convinced. It's just so simple and so romantic at the same time. Akaashi think they are the perfect time for both of you to relax and talk about your days and stuff.
He would love to see you at his games. He won't be too distracted by you dw. Akaashi would just know that you are supporting him through the whole game even if you aren't able to watch him.
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© mariaace 2024 do not modify, plagiarize, copy or claim any of my works!
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mrsvalentinefucker1 · 8 months
Text
She’s a lady (woah oh oh oh)
Is this inspired by THE Tom jones song? Yeah it is sorry
Scout x sniper x virgin!fem!reader
You and Scout were definitely close. After all you both were fairly young and nobody else really understood your humor like he did. If you were being honest, he definitely was the cutest of the mercenaries. You could name a hundred reasons why he was just sooo attractive but then we’d be here all day (I have a crush on Scout.).
You and Scout shared drinks here and there even though neither of you were too fond of the taste alcohol left behind but the feeling is what you both craved more than anything (as one does)
“Hey, Scout.” You pushed open his door where he sat on the edge of his bed in his cluttered room reading what looked to be a comic book or some kind of magazine.
He jumped out of his skin “Oh jeez Y/n-“
“I’m sorry” You said through laughs “Wanna go grab a drink? Everyone’s leaving to go to that bar we like.”
Scout shot up and tossed his reading material in a random direction, not caring where or how it landed. “Duh I do! Let’s go!”
You two were walking out of the shared facility while scout was telling you about random new things he learned about Tom jones
“Did yaknow my dad actually married like, super young?”
“Oh yeah? Well that’s fairly common isn’t it?”
Scout shrugged his shoulders “Wait.”
You both stopped in your tracks
“What?” You looked over at him
“Who’s driving?”
“I believe Medic is…But Medic’s definitely going to get drunk so.. probably Heavy”
“Are you two going to hurry up or just stand there all night?” Spy said to catch the attention of you and Scout. “It’s bad enough we’re going to have to hear Scout babble about random things no one cares about”
You and scout hopped in the car, “Shut the hell up, Spy. Can people NOT be happy around you?” Scout shot back
“Not when it’s you.” Spy rolled down his window and lit a cigarette
“Both of you stop or we won’t go anywhere. You both are adults, act like it.” Sniper said to shut the men up
Scout looked over at you and rolled his eyes while he motioned to Sniper and Spy
“What was that, Scout?”
“Nothing.” He rolled his eyes again.
_____
You all reached the bar and hopped out as everyone went their separate ways.
You sat at the table you two always sat at “Can I get a couple shots of vodka, like 3 or 4?”
“Starting the night off strong are we?”
You laughed the waitresses comment off “Yeah”
“And what about you, sir?”
Scouts attention was snapped off of you and onto the waitress “Can I get just a beer”
“What brand?” She smiled at him
“Whatever brand. It’s all doing the same thing, so.”
The waitress giggled “You’re funny..” she paused and waited for an answer of his name
“Oh- uh- Jeremy.”
She then put her hand on Scouts shoulder “Ok I’ll be right out with your drinks” she looked at you and then back at Scout
“What was that-“ Scout asked
“I- don’t know? I think she thinks we’re here as a couple.” You started laughing
You both chatted and laughed for a little until the drinks came back
“Here you go” she handed you your shot glasses “and here you go, Jeremy. If you need anything else let me know.”
“Will do” Scout said as he flashed a chipped tooth grin at the woman
“Want one?” You offered a shot to the man
He paused to think “Sure” he shrugged and you handed it to him
“Ok ready?”
Scout nodded
“1,2,3-“ you said in unison and then shot back the liquor at the same time
Scouts face contorted into a mix of discomfort and ache
“Good, right?”
“How do you drink that stuff??”
You shrugged and downed your last 3 shots
Scout started to drink his own beer as you two chatted while he downed the drink
And then a song started to play
“Oh my god”
“What?” Scout looked at you confused
“Listen” you paused “she’s a lady.(Tom jones)” You hopped up “Scout, let’s dance!”
He shrugged and hopped up with his beer in hand
You two danced in a small circle as the song played and you sang along to the lyrics
“I didn’t know you even listened to this song!” Scout shouted over the music
“Duh I do! You talk about the guy 24/7 I picked up a little interest in him of my own” you giggled as you kept dancing and singing
Scout looked at you in awe with a smile on his face, showing his bucked, chipped teeth.
The song ended and you looked up “I’m gonna go get another drink” you laughed
“I’ll come too” his eyes still fixed on you
You both marched over to the bar “Can I get a whiskey on the rocks?”
The bar tender nodded and went to fixing your drink
“They’re playing such good songs tonight” as you started singing to the song playing “It’s not unusual to find out I’m in love with you (it’s not unusual- Tom jones)” as you swayed in rhythm of the song
Scouts face was red
“Hey are you ok? Your cheeks are red”
“Oh- yeah just from drinking that vodka earlier”
“You’re feeling it, huh?” You giggled as the bartender handed you your drink
Scout nodded as he finished up his beer “Hey can I get the same thing?”
The bartender nodded and got to work
You began dancing again with your drink in hand, stopping only to sip on it.
Once the song stopped playing another one started
“Hey Scout do you know this song?”
He shook his head as he was handed his drink “who sings it?”
“Dean Martin, he’s basically my Tom Jones.” You looked over at him as the song ‘you’re nobody until somebody loves you’ played
You sang along with the lyrics and walked back over to your shared table
Sniper soon made his way over “Can I sit over here with you guys. Spy and medic are arguing and I really don’t wanna be apart of that..”
“Yeah of course” you said as you moved over and let him take your previous spot in the booth.
The waitress came over “Anything I can do for you?” She looked at scout, then you and then at sniper. “Looks like we have a new member of the group?” She looked sniper up and down
“Can I get a beer and a shot of vodka again” you answered her previous question
“You seem to drink a lot” the waitress shot back
“Well, my job is stressful so I’d appreciate it if youd just get me my drinks.”
She looked back at scout “Anything for you?”
“Same thing”
She looked at sniper “What about you? I bet you can handle your alcohol, huh?”
“3 shots of tequila and a shot of vodka”
The waitress nodded and walked off
It was silent as you laid your head on your folded arms as they laid on the table
“Here you guys go, is that all for tonight?”
Scout nodded
“I’ll bring your check, you can pay it up front when you leave, okay?”
“Okay, thank you.” Scout answered
you sat up and chatted while sipping on your drinks, finishing your beer and the sharing your shots of vodka at the same time
“Tequila? Why on earth would you drink that stuff?” You laughed
“It’s strong” sniper said as he took another one of his shots “Want one?”
“Sure.” You took the glass and shot it back and shook your head “Wooh! That’s strong”
Scout laughed and Sniper chuckled.
“Alright, we done here?” Scout asked and stood up
“I think we are.” You said with a smile
You and scout were definitely the most fucked up.
You went and payed, then left. Everyone was already outside waiting.
“Took you long enough”
“Shut *hic* up, Spy” Scout slurred his words
“Good god you’re wasted.”
“Nuh uh” you shot back at spy “We’re just a little tipsy”
“Nah, las, I’ve seen tipsy. You two are drunk” Demoman laughed as he chimed in before walking back to the car
Spy looked at Sniper as he held you up
“Please tell me you’re not also that irresponsible to be THAT drunk”
“No no, im fine” Sniper said as he walked you to the car in the most uneven line ever
Spy sighed and helped you all into the back of the car before getting in the front.
Medic was half asleep and babbling. While Spy smoked a cigarette and Heavy just sat in silence
They reached the base and let all of you file out of the vehicle
While Spy, heavy and medic waltzed inside You, Sniper and Scout stayed outside and chatted
“Let’s all go inside Snipers van!” You exclaimed
The men agreed and made their way into the van.
Sniper picked up another bottle while he sat down
“More tequila?” You asked and he nodded “Partys just getting started!” Sniper exclaimed
You took a couple swigs of the tequila laid on Scouts lap after and his face went red.
Sniper chuckled
“Hey Scout you wanna know something?” You as as you wobbly sat up
He nodded and you whispered in his ear with a giggle “I’m a virgin”
Scouts face went beet red as he looked at you
“Wanna help me with that problem?”
“Wait really?”
“Mhm”
“What are you two talking about?” Sniper interrupted
You giggled and hummed before answering with a lustful voice “I asked him to take my virginity”
Sniper was shocked at how blunt you were
It was silent for a few minutes until Sniper asked “Can I.. uh” he paused “Can I help?”
Now you were shocked. Two men at the same time?
You thought on it for a moment “Hmm, sure” you shrugged
The men were stunned, were you really serious?
“How do we start this?” Scout asked
“Who wants a bj” you asked rhetorically as you moved in front of Scout and began to undo his zipper
Scout grabbed your wrist “Y/n, are you sure?”
You nodded and bit your lip “I’ve been wanting this for so long Scout”
He moved his hand off and let you undo his pants
“Sniper get over here”
Sniper moved closer to scout.
You began to undo his pants aswell, the men’s hard cocks springing to life as you did so.
You admired the scene in front of you before spitting on your hand for lubricant as you pumped Snipers cock and took scouts member into your mouth.
The men moaned in unison as you worked them both.
Your mind was flooded with the noises they were letting out
Scouts hips started to stutter, he reached down to hold your head down as he came down your throat. Moaning you name as he did so.
You pulled up and swallowed Scouts load while still pumping Smipers cock. You looked at Scouts face, then moved over to Sniper to take him inside of your warm mouth now.
Sniper grabbed your hair and fucked into your throat like you had no gag reflex what so ever.
“Fuck, Y/n.“ His hips stuttered before he came down your throat
“That throat of yours works wonders.”
Scout agreed. You stood up and began to take your clothes off in front of the men, your body was analyzed by them like hungry wolves.
“So what do we do now?” You said as you walked over and sat in between the men.
“Ride Scout.” Sniper demanded
You looked over at scout
“Is that okay?”
Scout nodded so fast you thought his head would fall off
You straddled his lap before positioning the head of his cock at your entrance.
Scouts breath hitched. He muttered “Fuck” under his breath.
He grabbed your hips and began to work you up and down his cock, it was thinner than Snipers so it was good to start with him.
You sunk down onto his cock and bounced your hips, breaking around his cock.
“Good girl, Y/n.” Sniper moved behind you and began kissing your neck while you worked Scouts cock
“God, Y/n, you feel so good” Scout cried out
One of Snipers hands found their way to your breast. Scout took your other breast into his mouth.
“Scout.. gonna-“
“Aww she’s gonna cum. Scout watch her face”Sniper said
Scout looked up at Snipers word and watched as your face contorted in pleasure. The way these men were handling you sent your head reeling. Scouts thrust became erratic as you tightened around his cock. He drove your down and came deep inside of your virgin cunt.
You three sat there in a moment of silence while you two caught your breath.
Sniper lifted you off of Scout and carefully laid you down on the bed you three were sitting on. “Now, Shelia, this might hurt a little.” He shot you a toothy. Scout moved behind you to hold you in his lap while Sniper positioned himself at your entrance.
Your legs were bent above your head.
He looked at your red face as he slid the tip of his cock into you pussy. You whined and moaned at the feeling. Blood running as he began sliding more inside of you. It stung but not for long. Sniper let you adjust before he began fucking into you.
Yours and his moans flooded the van.
His hands never left your legs once.
“look at you, Y/n. You’re taking him like a champ. How good does it feel? Tell me!” Scout praised
“Fu- fuck so good! God sniper I’m gonna- gonna cu-uhm”
You moaned out as Sniper pounded your used-to-be-virgin pussy.
“I’m gonna fill you up Y/n. You’re not going to be able to walk for days!”
“Fuck! Yes yes yes!” You moaned out as you came hard around the man’s cock.
He fucked into you a few more times before dumping his cum into your tight cunt. Painting your walls.
Too lazy to finish this
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wordy-little-witch · 3 months
Note
ODA!!!!!! GIVE ME A GHOST POV OF ROGER AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!!!!!
Fr tho, Ghost Roger being a lil shit is a treat.
I can fuxking see Roger give Buggy the wiggly eyebrows on day when Crocodile and Mihawk are in the same room. (Maybe it was the first day those two subconsciously nicer to Buggy)
Coff coff ((They started to love the clown)) coff coff
Hell, Perona coming in with a letter to Mihawk from one of the spirits that asked for him specifically.
Mihawk: clown?
Buggy: hmn?
Mihawk: who is 'Ms.Rouge'?
Buggy : -choke-
Afterlife be dammed, she may have not raised Buggy, but Rouge loves him like her kin!
LITERALLY YES YOU GET ME
Also Roger just "eyy?? Eyyyy???????" Is fucking hysterical to me.
Buggy is blindsided when Crocodile drops off an extra cup of coffee at his desk, when Mihawk deposits a few snacks. He's pointedly not looking into Roger's Corner, something he has been doing for ages and will continue to do. It all comes to a head when someone offers Buggy a candy at a negotiation dinner and he's partway through unwrapping it when he hears three voices tell him to stop. Mihawk reaches out, Crocodile's sand whisks the little treat from his fingers to the other.
A quick glance reveals Roger still partially glaring at the other group but also giving considering glances to the quote unquote lieutenants.
Buggy is just confused.
"This brand is rather popular in the north blue," Mihawk remarks casually, turning the candy in his hand. He never once looks up from the wrapper - Buggy wonders what he's looking at or looking for. "They've been in business for decades now, despite the uproar some thirty one years ago."
The dealers avert their eyes, hesitant and stuttering timid agreements.
Mihawk continues. "Rather odd that they'd only list a partial ingredient list on their wares, wouldn't you think? They are marketed as a dynamic company, but their synthetic flavors are but mere facsimiles of the real deal - fakes built upon, more disgustingly, the lies they print on such foils." He flips the candy, dropping the little morsel onto a napkin so he can straighten the wrapping. "See, it even boasts to be free of common allergenic ingredients: peanut oil, dairy, fruit juices. That's the real ingenuity however."
Sharp golden eyes cut into the opposition.
"So long as a company is favored by those on high, they can skirt certain rules. They barely toe the line in the world government's book as is, but they are an infamous vendor in Marie Geoise. No peanut oil but still peanuts. No dairy, but traces of lactose. No fruit juices but concentrated extracts are certainly abundant. And all of their tropical lines contain a key ingredient. Did you know?"
Buggy very adamantly stomps down on the urge and need to blush and swoon as he watches Mihawk and Crocodile tear these people a new asshole over pineapple extract. Roger's approving nod and bouncing brows do NOT help the situation. Nor does Rouge's fond head pats and succinct "I approve, they're good for little bug."
Buggy is suffering.
<><><><><><><><><>
On the topic of Rouge, YEAH!!! She may have met Buggy after death, but she already loved him so much. She knew loving Roger meant stepping into an established family and she was very much okay with that! She knew Ace would have brothers and she would have step sons and not once did she hesitate. Roger was big, bold and loud - he loved with all he had and then some, even to disastrous results. She adored him. And she trusted him. He has a good sense of taste, after all.
So when she met Buggy the first time, she absolutely went into Mom Mode immediately. It was awkward and strange for a deal of time, and Buggy took a while to come around to her but Ms Rouge is his mom as much as Captain is his dad - it's a fact of life and he's long since lost the self consciousness of it all.
But hearing your boyfriend mention receiving a letter from your shared daughter who wrote it on behalf of your long dead mother, well.... weirder shit has happened but Buggy is a dramatic boy - it's his bit and he's committed to it.
Rouge's shovel talks are lowkey terrifying. She isn't as directly threatening as Roger. She's subtle, and observative, and she plots before springing her track. On that front, she may even be scarier than her husband.
And while she and Mihawk would absolutely get along well for their love of plants and gardening, they're equally likely to cross breed and make a lethal poison just because it "seemed interesting at the time".
((Bonus points of a semi related topic, sometimes Rouge sees so much of Roger in Buggy that she aches with it.
And sometimes Roger sees his wife in the movements and glint of his blue haired son's eyes.
Buggy's a product of both, for better or worse, and it's somehow incredible and horrible in equal measure))
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batbitesthebat · 4 months
Note
Hey bat!!!! :D it's been a whileeee.. So- here's my question!
Do you have any head canons for your octonauts- characters? (Regular au) if so. Can I know em? :0
Sorry this took me so long!! I'm a very busy Bat!!
I decided to share some headcanons for all of my octonauts for my normal BatBites AU.
Captain Barnacles:
He goes to sleep curfew on the DOT and wakes up at 7:00 am each morning, and will wake up the other Octonauts as well
He feels like the father of the crew, whether he likes to or not
He doesn't open up to anybody about his struggles or insecurities- ever! He's bad at that sort of thing...
During the summer he'll take extremely long cold baths that he'll literally dump ice in, and he sheds like crazy, he does NOT like the summer.
His suit has a cooler. Tweak built it for him!!
He is totally unaware of any feelings his CREwMAtes might have for him....
Lt Kwazii Cat:
He bat's other peoples tails instinctively...
He can bareeely taste sweet, so he'll usually add a shit ton of sugar to his desserts
Struggles with impulse control and social awareness, struggles to understand what can be talked about on the dinner table and what can't be
Quite ashamed honestly about his cat-like behavior, so he'll try to keep it to himself. He doesn't like to meow or purr around anyone but Shellington, but because he lacks impulse control, he'll end up doing it anyway. Dashi loves the meowing.
He's incredibly affectionate
His first thought when a sea creature gives them trouble is I'LL SHOW THEM WHO'S BOSS!!!
Medic Peso Penguin:
His urge to pick up rocks everytime he sees a pile of them goes strong, and he usually ends up doing just that
This is more of a redesign than a headcanon, but he has a full set of teeth in the og books and I thought that would be a good excuse to give him fangs in my AU just for added cuteness
He's a chronic apologizer
He gets picked on by the crew occasionally, he hates it
He looks up to Barnacles and Kwazii so much- he IS the youngest and the last one to join, after all.
He does really like taking care of his friends.
He's a bit of a crybaby. His sense of empathy is really big and strong, and he'll feel himself tear up if he sees something- or someone- suffering.
IT Officer Dashi Dog:
Because she's the IT officer, programmer & photographer, she's super busy all the time
And speaking of time, she always loses track of it..
If Kwazii and Barnacles were to be unavailable she would be in charge.
She likes to keep incredibly clean even if the DEMONS tell her to jump in the MUDD and have FUNN
She loves everything cute and collects chibi cat squishies. This is like, one of my first head canons ever.
She's in charge of the wifi, whenever it shuts down and the crew begins to bug her about it, she gets super fckin annoyed
She barks, because of course she barks, and her tail wags whenever she sees something she likes or is giving/receiving affection
Her tail ALSO wags when she's talking to Captain Barnacles, I wonder why THAT is!!!
Engineer Tweak Rabbit:
Gets 1 second of sleep every night
Taught the rest of the crew how to play her video games
She glows in the dark because she's literally radioactive, same with her dad
When she needs a break she goes to the garden to chill, and eat a few carrots on the way
Will wake up in a cold sweat to randomly build something in the middle of the night
She does not give a shit about how messy she gets
Dr. Shellington Sea Otter:
Spends so much of his alone time just grooming himself
Goes searching through the fridge for ice cubes during the summer. Loves his ice cubes
Was the most geekiest geek in high school, he had like 3 friends
He plays visual novels
He's really defensive, embarrassed, and shy about what he likes.
His sleep schedule is fcked up, he talks in his sleep as well. He'd much rather be spending his time researching so as he sleeps he'll usually dream about his research.
He cannOT take a compliment. Compliment him and he will curl up into a little ball out of shame.
Professor Inkling Octopus:
He'll put on classical music in the library and vibe to it with whoever's with him
He hosts story nights occasionally
He's really good at giving romantic advice
He refuses to drink coffee
He needs to be constantly MOIST
his chair is super high tech and comes with a heater and cooler
May or may not be the group therapist
He's INKredibly humble
Tunip Vegimal:
Like 4 years old
Gets excited over literally anything
Gets the cutest puppy dog eyes when he wants something
Defaults to running around with the other vegimals when there's nothing to do
His fave thing in the world is watching the crews face light up when they eat his food
Vegimal food just hits different
Tunip sees Shellington as his dad, and sees Tweak as his mama. Kwazii's the gay aunt
*flies away*
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quickiesgirl · 2 years
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Can you write reader is Charles daughter x Quicksilver?and she's very introverted?!? She has the same powers as Charles where she newly joined the other mutants and also she was the youngest one like 18-20y/o
Sorry, this took so long for me to finish. I've been overloaded with requests. Hopefully, you like it! <3
Study Buddies - Peter Maximoff
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Paring: Peter Maximoff x Fem!Xavier Reader Warning: Friends To Lovers, Introverted!Reader, Shared First Kiss, Playful Teasing.
You were an introvert for as long as your father could remember. Charles always noticed how shy and silent you were towards others.
While kids were outside playing together, you were enjoying your own company. Only ever open and vulnerable to people you felt most comfortable around. 
Not long after the X-men were formed, you had turned 19, and your father finally allowed you to join. You were Xavier's daughter to your fellow members. A very reserved yet observant, strong, and powerful mutant. 
One member, a certain silver-haired speedster, craved your affection. He wanted to know more about you and yearned to share those deep and intimate moments with you.  
You had met Peter throughout the chaos of the apocalypse. Now, he was moved into the bedroom beside yours with another teammate, Scott Summers. 
On this particular day, you headed down the long, empty corridors of the school while all the kids were in class. The sound of your footsteps echoed through the halls, and the muffled voices became clearer from your father's study. 
The closer you got you recognized that fast-speaking, gruff sounded voice. It was Peter. You peeked into the open doors, locking eyes with his dark brown gaze that adored you so sweetly in passing. 
You eyed him for a quick second, taking in all the features you adored, like his dimples that formed when those soft, kissable lips curled into a smile and that cute little beauty mark on his nose. 
You glanced back down and began heading up the wooden staircase, squeezing the books encased in your arms tightly as a fluttering sensation filled your stomach and warmth filled your cheeks. 
“Oh, Y/n?” You stopped in your tracks and took a step back while you heard your father's voice call you. You turned around on your toes and walked over to his study, “Yeah, dad?” 
“Peter is having a bit of difficulty with his studies. Would you mind helping him?” Charles asked, glancing between the two of you. 
“Uh, yeah, of course, I’ll help.” 
-
You knocked on the bedroom door and felt a light breeze of wind across your body as the door opened in a blink of an eye. 
“Hey, thanks for coming,” Peter smiled as he nervously shoved his hands in the tight leather pockets of his pant, trying to cover up the fact that he was practically star-struck by how cute you looked in your oversized shirt and your favorite pair of black jeans that notably hugged your beautiful hips. 
You could feel his eyes wandering across your body, and it took everything to keep you from seeing what was in that pretty boy's mind. 
“Of course! I’m happy to help. Ready to study?” 
“Yeah, I believe so. Come on in,” Peter said, holding the door open. You walked into his surprisingly neat bedroom, cleaned up last minute, especially for this occasion, and sat on the end of his striped mattress, taking a moment to admire the small rock band posters across his side of the room. You two shared a great love for music.
“You have great taste.” You pointed towards the wall, watching the man speed across you on the mattress, laying the study material between you two. 
“So do you.” He added, noticing you tilt your head in curiosity, wondering what he knew, “oh, uh, I hear your music in the middle of the night. Hendrix, Bowie, Depeche Mode, Rolling Stones. They’re some of my favorites.” 
 “Mine too.” You say, sweetly smiling, your lashes fluttering up at him. He catches himself before he gets lost in your eyes and clears his throat. His pink tongue pushed out and licked his bottom lip with one quick swipe.
“So, Scott snuck off to Jean’s room. Luckily, we won’t have to hear him complaining about how loud and noisy we’re being.” #
Your eyebrows perked as the sudden realization hit him, embarrassment rushing over his face, not expecting to make a fool of himself this early on. 
“T-that isn’t what it s-sounds like.” He studdered, listening to you giggle softly behind your hand, finding it adorable. 
-
Peter sat across you, doing his very best to concentrate though he was struggling, something about your soft touches, smiles, and reassurance only made it better. 
This boy made you feel comfortable like you could be yourself around him. Then you realized, your father did this on purpose. 
Charles could see how much you truly adored this boy, and he knew this would be a great bonding experience. Putting the two of you together was giving you a little push that you wouldn’t normally get, helping you out of your shell to make a move, and so far, you were seeing sparks. 
“Fuck yes!” Peter grinned happily after getting all your questions correct, pulling you from your train of thought. 
The silver-haired man leaned back against the wall, arms crossing behind his head with his chest puffed out as he playfully boasted about his success, “I’m pretty much a pro at this point.” 
“Your very cute when your bragging.” You teasingly smiled, finding it even adorable when he attempted to hide that pretty, blushing face of his. 
“Well, you're a very cute teacher, Ms. Xavier.” 
Your cheeks grew warm to the touch, experiencing the same feelings as him. You glanced down, picking at a piece of paper before looking back into his dark, lustful eyes, speaking softly, “I-I really enjoy hanging out with you, Pete.”
“Really? You do?” He asked, expression changing to surprise, mouth slightly widened, brows raised as he brought his arms down and rested his elbows upon his knees. 
“Yeah. You're so sweet to me, and I feel so comfortable around you.” 
Peter's eyes traveled between your eyes and lips. One thing on his mind, and that was how badly he wanted to kiss those perfect lips of yours. Butterflies filled your stomach while you leaned forward, moving your body towards his, hands straddling his knees, sending chills down his spine. 
Peter’s lips were inches away from yours before the door suddenly swung open, startling the both of you, and causing your body to jolt back from his. 
There was Scott, interrupting the moment, “Hey, dude, where’s my- oh... My bad, I didn’t think you had company… I’ll uh leave you guys to it.” 
The door shut quickly, and looking back, resting your hand comfortably upon his knee, “I better get going anyway so you can get some rest for tomorrow’s test.” 
“Y-yeah, you’re right.” He nodded understandably, mind racing with a billion thoughts, unable to get that picture out of his mind of your bodies moving together, lips being closer than ever. But, before he knew it, the night was ending, he helped you to the door and thanked you sweetly for everything. 
As you stepped out of the door, you felt your regret rush over you, there was still something you wanted to do, and you built your courage before turning around and gazing back at Peter. “Hey, maybe you could come over sometime when you hear my music. We can listen together.” 
“Yeah! I’d love that.” 
You took a step forward and latched your fingers onto the collar of his shirt, “Good…” 
 You stood on your toes and connected your lips with his, sharing a sweet, long-awaited kiss. The speedster's eyes broadened widely before all his thoughts suddenly washed away, melting into a blushing mess of euphoria. 
Peter was soft, gentle, and sweet like sugar. You couldn’t get enough of him. He was perfect. 
As you reluctantly pulled away, you smirked teasingly, whispering into his ear seductively, “Night, Maximoff,” before walking back to your room, hips swaying with pride, leaving the lover boy too stunned to speak. 
Peter Maximoff Fluff Taglist: @rottenstyx @cantthinkofauserlololol @pikachupepito2 @clowwderr
Taglist Form | Message if you want to be removed <3
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simplydnp · 2 months
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idk. To me it just seems more likely that they have separate rooms. Bc why would Phil put his closet and bathroom in a a different room than the one he sleeps in? He'd have to go to the green room to shower and get ready. That's such an inconvenience. I think the green room is probably just Phil's room. There's no trace of Phil in the other room either, whereas the green room seems to be more his style. Idt the picture or phil's books being on the shelf confirms anything bc they'd just moved in and might have put whatever they had unpacked on the shelf to make it seem less empty. That bed also seems way too small for two people over 6'. I'm not saying that them potentially not sharing a room/sleeping in the same bed means they're not together. There are numerous reasons why a couple might want to have separate rooms or not share a bed. I just wouldn't take it as a foregone conclusion that they share a room when there's quite a bit of evidence to the contrary.
my haunches go up when i detect a patronizing tone. so forgive me if this comes off as harsh.
'quite a bit of evidence to the contrary' is a very strong claim to make when the pictures we have feature both of their things intertwined; phil's phlonde selfie is in that room; dan says if phil fills this room with cardboard boxes, he'll poo on the floor (if it wasn't his room, why would phil leave boxes in it); they had to have a discussion on putting carpet on the floor vs hardwood (separate bedrooms they couldve done whatever they liked); and dan only ever calls it 'the bedroom'--missing the possessive adjective.
'theres no trace of phil in the other room either' - it'd hard to tell which room you mean here, so i'll cover both. his stuff is in there, firstly. the 'maybe they needed to fill it for a picture' excuse is based off of nothing. next, consider the rest of the house: is there anything in the office that screams phil? what about the kitchen? or the dining room? or the lounge? i think dnp have much more compatible styles than people realize--he even says in the keep or yeet video that he doesnt wear super bright colours anymore. his rooms used to embody 'geek core'--and remember, we haven't seen phil's actual room since their first london apartment. and not that people can't keep their style while they grow up, but maybe his tastes changed. especially when his bedroom was no longer his video background. yknow, the one that was supposed to compliment his online persona and be the main part of his branding?
and the 'green room seems more his style' because the wall is green? there's literally nothing else in that room. no art on the walls, beyond the japan trip bamboo paintings from his dad, nothing on tables, no chairs--we haven't even seen the bed. what in that room seems more phil? not to mention them saying the green towels were in the guest bathroom.
re: the bed. we haven't seen a full picture of the bed. we've gotten the catboy pictures, and it looks to me like there's room for 2 people in it. like maybe they don't own a king bed, but i don't know how a queen mattress wouldn't be able to fit them. (i say this as someone with a double--there's no fucking way it's a double) sure they're long, but be fr.
in terms of the convenience of getting ready--they didn't used to have an en suite bathroom. he can walk, he'll be fine. again, we don't know where the closet is. phil seems like the kind of guy to just hang out in his pjs if he doesnt have to get ready for something. so putting his clothes near the shower/bathroom would be convenient, instead of both of them wrestling over one. and it kind of has to be by a bathroom, as why else would dan need clothes when he had to borrow some when the builders had blocked off his closet?
you're saying this isn't you claiming they aren't together, which, okay fine, but to me it sounds like another person overcomplicating their relationship. why are you so adamant they don't share one? genuinely, all you've presented is theories and opinions supported by no evidence. if they do share one, cool! if they don't, cool!
i don't enjoy being talked down to, and if that wasn't your intention, i apologize, but the way this was presented is very antagonizing.
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kajilychnis · 7 months
Text
Arcane order headcanon
I wanted to share some headcanons on them about their knowledge about modern "technology". First let's start with Bellroc. (Sorry I will use "he" for Bellroc and Skrael, ik some people prefer to use "they/them")
First, Bellroc hates human technology the most of the three, In my opinion, he's the one who knows the least about technology. I think he knows heaters, it's probably one of the things he appreciate the most. Everything that is camera, telephone and etc, he hates that. This reminds me of the scene where Bellroc smashes Toby's camera (I JUST REMEMBERED THAT IT WASN'T TOBY'S CAMERA BUT KREL'S ROBOT DAD OMFG HOW DID I FORGET XD). I'm pretty sure Bellroc combs his hair with a comb.
For Skrael, I would say that if he wasn't a demigod he would actually be a geek. He loves refrigerators, he might even go inside and take a nap. I imagine him eating ice cream inside a freezer. He hates guns, he finds it pathetic. He knows everything about torture machines, he probably has a book on torture and medieval torture, speaking of books, I'm pretty sure he likes reading. Besides, I'm sure he knows manga, I don't know why but it wouldn't surprise me (I don't think he reads them though) I believe that among the three, Skrael is the one who knows the most about human technology (that doesn't mean he knows a lot…) So when Bellroc sees something human he automatically asks Skrael what it is. Often Skrael answers wrong.
Bellroc : ... *is staring at a phone charger" ...Skrael, what is this ?
Skrael : The phone leash.
Bellroc : ...
Skrael : ...
Bellroc : What's a phone ?
Nari doesn't know much about human technology but she probably doesn't like "human things" that pollute. But I honestly think she's a little more understanding about what humans use while Skrael and Bellroc love to make fun of human's new inventions. She knows that humans invent things to make their lives easier. She knows everything about gardening equipment, in fact she learned it with the help of Douxie. I think she likes to read too but she doesn't have the same taste as Skrael at all. I truly believe that when Douxie works and stays home alone, she watches TV. Douxie probably bought her a phone so she can contact him whenever she feels in danger or is in danger. She never uses her phone and she always forgets where she puts it, when she uses it it's to check the weather for her plants.
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wonderbias · 2 years
Text
Manipulate, Manslaughter, Malewife
Pairing: Modern! Aemond Targaryen x OC
Genre: Fun, fluff, tiny tiny tiny angst.
Warnings: language, mentions of sexual relationships, suggestive.
Words: +2.5K
A/N: So, I know a lot have been waiting for Part 3 of my other story...I've been waiting too for the ~~inspiration~~ but, meanwhile, I had this idea yesterday and thought "why not share it?" Hope you like it!
////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Like every day at 8 AM the mothers of the kindergarten stood against the entrance of the institution. Some were on their phone, some were talking among themselves, and others admired their expensive manicure, but they were all waiting for the same.
Aemond Targaryen.
Finally, the silver and expensive car parked, and from it descended the Valyrian God, as many liked to call him.
Others called him a variety of names that wouldn't be appropriate saying it out loud.
Aemond went to the back door of his car and from it jumped down a small kid with his same hair color and a wide smile.
The sight made some hearts melt.
(It made some panties damper too but, let's not pay attention to that.)
Father and son walked holding hands from their car into the kindergarten, the little Rhaegar happily following his dad.
When they disappeared behind the doors, a collective sigh could be heard.
"Did you see it?" "He's so loving!" "His kid is just like him." "He only smiles when he's with Rhaegar, I saw them the other day in the supermarket."
"I'm going to ask him on a date," suddenly announced Brianna, the recently-divorcee-who-had-undergone-breast-surgery-and-a-lipo.
Every mother turned to look at her, some with disgust, some with surprise, some with admiration.
Marie finally spoke, "Sorry, but he's married. Didn't you see the wedding band?"
Brianna rolled her eyes but the one who answered was Rebecca, one of Brianna's friends who was the 'live, laugh, love' type, "No he's not! Another friend of mine works in the Civil Registration Office and tells me that there's no Mrs. Targaryen!"
Marie thought it was ridiculous how grown-up women were making little jumps like teenagers.
Obviously, Rebecca couldn't contain herself and kept talking, "Girls, he's a widower, I'm sure of it. He never mentions someone-"
"He barely talks…," Marie cuts her.
"- nobody has seen him with anyone and he doesn't have a big social life! He's perfect and, if you search, his family has millions and millions!" Rebecca stated, ignoring Marie's attempts to interrupt her.
"Shut up! He's coming," muttered Brianna, walking to the front of the group of women.
As on cue, Aemond Targaryen walked out of the building, stern face and dark glasses on. He noticed the group of women and greeted them with a slight tilt of his head.
"Ladies," he spoke, with the deep and soft tone that Marie imagined some of her favorite book characters had.
He got inside his car and, in a matter of seconds, he was on the road.
"I'm doing it, I won't die before getting a taste of that dick," Brianna announced with a face full of determination, while she adjusted her new breasts inside the tight blouse she was wearing.
Run, Aemond Targaryen, run. Marie thought.
—------------------------------------------------------
The ritual repeated at 1 PM.
There were a few differences though: the mothers and fathers awaited their kids, the kids ran outside to greet them and Rhaegar Targaryen was picked up by his nanny.
Marie could tell that the woman was nice and really cared for Rhaegar, but the truth was that they had never really talked beside the occasional greeting and chatting about kids. She also knew that the group of 'Cool moms', in which Brianna and Rebecca were part of, liked to treat the nanny as if she was a handmaid, and women of money didn't talk to the help.
But today was different, she thought while watching how Brianna talked with the nanny (who was looking at her interlocutor skeptically) and tried to be friendly.
She moved closer to them, to listen to their conversation and so that she could interfere in case Brianna acted like her usual self and insulted the poor woman.
"So, I was thinking, maybe we could arrange a play date with Logan and Rhaegar," suggested Brianna, in an overly sweet tone.
The nanny smiled, "Oh, I'm sure Rhaegar will love it."
"It could be this Thursday, at five? In my house?" Brianna said a little too quickly.
"Damn girl, you're a viper," Marie thought. "The only day that Aemond Targaryen picks up his kid."
"Oh," the poor woman was a little overwhelmed, she noticed. "I think it'll be fine-"
Brianna interrupted her by putting a hand on her arm, "Tell your boss, darling, and tell him to call me so we can arrange the play date." Then she handed the girl a card with her contact information, "Please, tell Mr. Targaryen to call me, I'll be awaiting his call."
She was distracted by her kid running towards her but, as she walked to her car, she could see the poor nanny having a dumbfounded face.
—------------------------------------------------------
Are you sure?
Yes! Why would I lie?
—------------------------------------------------------
Turns out that the play date, according to Brianna, had turned out "excellent, I have him wrapped around my finger".
(Marie thought that Brianna had misunderstood Aemond's good manners as flirting, the girl was so desperate that she was blind in her judgment.)
Anyway, she had announced that during Trivia Night at School, her plans to conquer the Valyrian God and drag him into her bed, she had also shared how she had gone to get a brazilian wax in preparation for "her great night".
Meanwhile, her husband, James, and she had dressed up for the occasion. James was particularly interested in how almost every single or divorced mother was pursuing the widower Aemond Targaryen.
Marie spotted Aemond Targaryen in the crowd of parents, talking to some other men, she pointed at him discreetly, "That's him, babe. Be discreet…no! I told you to be…don't look, don't look…now, I think he's distracted."
She loved James, but if she sent the man to spy on someone, he would end up ringing the bell. He had stood there looking at the Targaryen directly, trying to see a glimpse of his face, and, finally, when he did, the idiot had softly whistled, "Damn, he's hot! I'm doubting my sexuality."
Marie nudged her husband's shoulder, "Shh! You idiot!" Still, she couldn't deny that her husband was right.
"Oh, man! I'm hoping that when he rejects Brianna I can be close so I can watch the exact moment her face drops," he had said while they were waiting for their drinks. James wasn't too fond of Brianna after how she had cheated on one of his friends in college. "Oh, I can't wait, love! I need to get another drink in advance to celebrate."
"How are you so sure that he's going to reject her?" she was genuinely curious. Besides the plastic surgery, Brianna was pretty, any man would find her attractive.
James turned to look at her, "Honey, I have a feeling about this, trust me."
She took a sip of her margarita, "Good or bad?"
James stared at the back of Aemond Targaryen and nodded, "Good."
—-----------------------------------------------------
A few hours had passed and every adult seemed a little drunk, the drinks were free so…Why not?
Why not? Marie cursed her earlier self as she entered the bathroom, turns out that the side effect, that nobody mentions, of having children is that your bladder will never be the same, that's why she was on her third trip to the bathroom.
Great, only one is occupied.
She did her business, which never seemed to end, and got out of the cubicle. As she's washing her hands and checking that her makeup and her hair aren't too ruined, the door of the second cubicle opens and a familiar face appears.
"Hi, Marie! How are you?" says the nanny of Rhaegar Targaryen.
Marie is confused. You see: the nanny she's used to is a tall woman who usually wears cargo pants, a t-shirt, and sneakers. Not a drop of makeup, sometimes she wears glasses, her brown hair in a ponytail and she believes the nanny has green eyes.
But this…woman? She's the nanny her grandmother advised her daughter's not to let her enter their houses or they would find their husband balls deep in her pussy.
Gods, she's intimidated by her looks...
This nanny reloaded is gorgeous. She's tall, like really tall, and she's wearing heels which make her even taller! She's wearing a gorgeous dark blue dress that's barely above her knee and it also has a neckline that shows her full breasts (if I had tits like that I would be naked 24/7). Her hair is mid-length and light brown, her lips are full and painted a glossy red and her green eyes appear to be shining thanks to her makeup.
Marie has a hard time finding her words, but she still tries, "Um…hi." Great Marie, now you're being rude. You're also being rude by not knowing her name.
Oh shit, what was her name? Something…Italian? Spanish? Maybe?
To her surprise, the nanny reloaded laughs, "I know it's not my usual attire, I know I look a little weird. My name's Fiamma, by the way."
She felt herself blush in embarrassment, "Oh! I'm sorry, I'm terrible at remembering names. You look beautiful, by the way…"
Wait, why was she here?
There are no kids here…it's just parents and teachers.
But she's no parent…and no teacher…who invited her?
She watches as Fiamma AKA 'The Nanny' checks her makeup in the mirror and then grabs a big purse.
They exit the bathroom and start walking towards the 'party'. Marie can't contain herself and stops.
"I'm sorry Fiamma, I know I'm being rude but, why are you here? Are you…dating a parent or a teacher?" she asks and immediately regrets doing it because the look the other woman gives to her is one of disdain.
But…she's a nanny! She shouldn't be here, the school is very strict to let anybody enter their grounds and she's-
"You know Marie, I know women like you, even men. They think they're so 'liberal' and 'inclusive' but when they're finally facing someone who doesn't act or look or even dress like them…well, they show their true colors," expressed Fiamma, clenching her hands but still maintaining eye contact.
She was sure she hadn't been this embarrassed and ashamed in a long time.
"I'm…I-I don't know what you're talking about-," she muttered.
To her disgrace, Fiamma raised a hand, signaling her to stop talking, "You and your lot of 'Mom friends' never treated me well, you barely even talked to me, never asked for my name. Hell, nobody asked or gave me their number when I asked!"
"Why would we want a nanny's number?!" blurted out Marie.
Oh, fuck. I shouldn't have said that. I can't say things like that.
Clutching her purse tightly she realized how disrespectful she had been, "I'm sorr-"
But Fiamma was already climbing up the stairs, she tried to follow her (to do what? Apologize? Ask for forgiveness? Ask her to don't tell anyone?) but it was in vain, Fiamma was already walking towards…
Oh, my fucking God! How old is she? Was she going to tell on her to Aemond Targaryen? How could she believe that her employer would listen to a mere nanny-
Wait…he's hugging her.
And now he's…kissing her?!
She quickly moved through the crowd and found a more secluded place where she could sit and process everything that had happened.
—------------------------------------------------------
For a few minutes, she sat there, on the small bench, trying to understand what had happened.
What the fuck is going on here?
The sound of the gravel alerted her of the presence of another person.
Great…she's back to fight some more.
"You know, Marie, of all the vipers…I thought you were…different," said a low voice.
She didn't have to raise her head to know that Aemond Targaryen was talking to her.
Still, she was proud (and dumb enough to fight him back).
She raised from her seat and muttered through clenched teeth, "I'm not the one who's fucking the nanny and showing her around here! I don't know how is it in Westeros, but things here-"
"She's my wife, you dumb bitch," he deadpanned. He stared at her dead in the eye and continued, "You thought you were being nice and courteous to someone 'lower' than you when the truth is that you are a snobbish fucker that thinks that she's above everyone."
Her pressure dropped, "I-I-I-I'm…n-n-not-"
Aemond interrupted her again and, she could swear, she saw fire in his eyes, "Now, I think you owe my wife an apology. If you're quick, you can be after Brianna and Rebecca… there are more people in the line and those two have lengthy apologies for believing me a horny widower."
Her mouth was agape and her hands and legs were shaking, she hadn't been in so much fear in…her life. With all the energy she could muster she nodded, and that seemed to please the man because he turned into his heel and walked away.
She had to sit down to calm herself, but couldn't contain her tears. She had been humiliated and even scolded like a brat and while every bone in her wanted to keep fighting, deep down she knew that she had been a bitch on purpose to a person only because it didn't fit the wealthy environment.
Suddenly she heard quick steps and a panting breath, "Honey, you won't believe this! The Targaryen is married! You should have seen Brianna's face when he told her in front of his wife, the bitch even started crying for 'giving her false hopes' and the wife told her to 'assure yourself that your conquest isn't married before a brazilian wax'! It was a-ma-zing!..."
"Wait, why are you crying?!"
—------------------------------------------------------
Fiamma walked down the stairs after checking her kids were fine and sleeping and searched around the house for her husband.
She found him in the kitchen, apron on, sleeves up, and hair tied, washing the dishes. Pouring herself more wine, she took advantage of the fact that he wasn't facing her to admire his back.
"Thank you for defending my…honor, as you nicely put it," her voice was velvety, filled with love and gratitude.
He chuckled, "I had to, love. One thing is being rude to me, I can handle it but, when you came with that card? I wanted to strangle her."
"And not in a good way," she teased him and, in response, he splashed some water on her a playful smile on his face.
"What I still don't understand is…why they thought you were the nanny? And how the fuck they thought I was a widower?"
She takes a deep breath and starts explaining to him what Rebecca had said in her apology: that they had never seen them together, that there wasn't a Mrs. Targaryen, that he wore his wedding band (duh), and how the group of mothers had never thought of her as his wife.
"In a way, I can understand because Rhaegar always greets me in Valyrian and I was always in my working clothes, which aren't the fanciest. Also, it doesn't help that both my kids look nothing like me, they're copies of you," she suggested, her hand caressing his back.
Aemond "mmmm-ed" to her and nodded, "Still, they were rude to you. Nanny or not, they should have acted like adults and asked if they were so curious."
"Aemond please…they think that they're too important and that people should seek them," she pointed out. "They're fucking crazy, love, just spending their time drinking expensive wine, doing their nails, getting botox, and ordering the "help" around."
"I too drink expensive wine, does that mean I'm a "desperate housewife"?" he joked with her while he cleaned the last plate.
"Oh, shut up," a laugh came over her. "You do so much more: you take care of the kids, you manage the US branch of your family company from home, you cook, you clean. Need me to keep going?"
"I also cleaned the pool," he pointed. "And I managed to close a big deal for millions."
She rolled her eyes but kept going on, Aemond loved being praised and she was delighted to give it to him, "You cleaned the pool and closed a deal. You do too much for us, love, you're not a "desperate housewife", in any case, you would be a 'malewife'."
He could barely contain his laugh at the term, "Wow. Can I put it on my resume?"
She walked to him and hugged him by his waist, her face against his back, "If you want to…although I doubt it would help you." Her hands made their way under his black shirt, which was covered by the ridiculous apron, and started caressing the soft skin of his abs.
She gave his ear a soft and teasing bite making him take a deep breath, "You know…I've been neglectful with you, Aemond. You do so so much for me and the kids and I never tell you how thankful I'm for being yours. You decided to leave the life you had worked so hard to get only for me to get my dream job, how many husbands do that?"
He turned around, pupils were wide from the desire. His hand softly wrapped around her throat and she took a deep breath through her nose, then his lips finally settled over hers.
As their lips finally made contact, his tongue made its way through her lips, deepening the kiss and swallowing every whimper and moan she made. Her hands went to his soft and long hair, her nails barely scratching his scalp which made his hips snap against hers.
But then he pulled apart, his hand still on her throat, and looked into her eyes, the dominant side of him taking control of the situation. She could already feel her panties getting damp.
"On your knees, sweetheart," Aemond demanded, the grip on her throat tightening a little. "Be good and I might give you a reward, mmm?"
She obeyed, mouth already open in expectation.
After all, her sweet and devoted husband always needed a reminder of how much she loved and needed him.
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sunshinesteviee · 2 years
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Hi Emma! For your Valentines Day Sleepover could you please do a blurb for dad!Eddie using dialogue prompt 11 ("Where is [child's name]?" "I thought you had them!") from list one please? I’m a sucker for dad!Eddie and absolutely adore your writing 🥺
eeek dad!eddie owns my whole entire heart!! this is entirely fluff bc my heart couldn't handle otherwise. wc: 992; mom!reader
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“Princess! Where are you?” Eddie called out as he rifled through his daughter’s clothes for some clean pajamas. His question was met with silence, causing him to groan; he’d have to go find her, and he knew she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. 
As much as Eddie hated to admit it, Maeve took after him in many ways — particularly when it came to causing mischief. Wayne liked to remind Eddie of that any chance he got, always muttering something about ‘a taste of his own medicine’ that always had Eddie rolling his eyes. Still, it was true, especially when it came to bedtime for Maeve recently. You’d had to get creative to get her into bed, usually involving one of you to distract her while the other got everything ready. It usually worked, but sometimes didn’t exactly go as planned. 
Tossing the toddler-sized pajamas onto Maeve’s bed, Eddie ventured out of her room to find her, and called for her again, “Maevey!”
Though he had expected to find Maeve curled up in your lap, maybe reading a book with you, he found you sitting by yourself instead. Your head shot up at the sound of your husband’s footsteps entering the room, a smile immediately tugging at your lips as you spoke up, “Hi, handsome. Where’s Maeve? She still getting her pajamas on?”
Eddie stopped in his tracks, confusion creasing his eyebrows, “I thought she was with you?”
“No…” you trailed off, shaking your head quickly. You’d been under the assumption that Maeve was already getting ready for bed with Eddie. 
You and Eddie both sighed at the same time, knowing that she was likely hiding in one of the other rooms in your house. Eddie held his hand out to you to pull you off of the couch, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you stood up, “I’ll check our bedroom, you check the kitchen?” 
“‘Kay,” you nodded, returning the favor as you pressed a quick peck to his lips. 
This wasn’t the first time this had happened — and likely wouldn’t be the last — so Eddie had an idea of where his daughter would be. He jogged back down the hall and pushed open the door to your shared bedroom. The room was dark, but he still called her name loudly, adding a dramatic voice to hopefully make her laugh, “Maevey, are you in here, princess?”
Sure enough, a quiet giggle came from a different room down the hall. It was barely audible, but it was also one of Eddie’s favorite sounds in the world, and he’d know it anywhere. Turning on his heel, he quickly exited his bedroom and headed down the hall to the extra room they had. It wasn’t quite a storage room, nor was it really a playroom for Maeve — it was somewhere in between, sometimes also serving as an office for you, or a place for Eddie to play his guitar. In fact, that was usually what Maeve came in here for; she loved Eddie’s guitar, loved to listen to him play it, and wanted desperately to have a real guitar of her own to be just like her dad. 
Pushing the door to the room open quietly, Eddie stuck his head in and found Maeve sitting on the floor, her tiny toy guitar in her lap. He watched her silently for a few moments, a smile slowly growing on his face as she haphazardly plucked at the strings. Maybe it was just his biased opinion as her dad, but Eddie knew she’d go places with music someday if she wanted. His heart was going to burst if he thought about it much longer, so instead, he burst into the room, “Found you, you troublemaker!”
Maeve let out a yelp that quickly dissolved into a fit of giggles as Eddie grabbed at her, tickling her sides even as she tried to squirm away from him, “Daddy! Stop! No tickles!”   
“Girls who hide when they’re supposed to be getting their jammies on get tickles!” Eddie replied with a grin, pulling her into his lap.
Between shrieks of laughter, Maeve mumbled out a breathless apology and added, “I jus’ wanted to play my ‘tar!” 
Eddie paused his assault of tickles, his heart squeezing in his chest as he maneuvered her to face him, “I heard you playing, baby, you were doin’ so good. Even better than me!” Going shy from the compliments, Maeve pushed her face into Eddie’s shirt, giggling softly. Fingers raking through her long, messy curls, Eddie planted a kiss to her cheek and added, “You can play some more after you get your jammies on, okay?” 
“‘Kay,” she nodded easily, scrambling again in an attempt to get out of Eddie’s lap and make her way back to her own room, leaving Eddie struggling to get up to follow. 
By the time Eddie made it to her room, you were kneeling on the floor next to your daughter, already helping her change into her pajamas. Another way she was just like Eddie — easily motivated with incentives. Maeve had stopped whatever she was rambling on about as she caught sight of Eddie in the doorway, and your eyes snapped to him, shaking your head slightly with a smile as you tugged Maeve’s shirt into place. 
Maeve was giving him a shy smile, one that reminded him so much of you, especially when you’d just started dating. When she didn’t say anything, you gave her a little nudge, “Ask him, lovey.” 
“Daddy… you play ‘tar for me? ‘Stead of a book?” 
Eddie was sure that his daughter was going to be the death of him, especially if his heart was expanding with every single thing she said. Stepping into the room, Eddie scooped Maeve up into his arms, smacking another sloppy kiss to her forehead, “Let’s do both, yeah? Princess Mae gets one book, and whatever song her heart desires.” 
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