#my moms used to just be in the living room at all times when i was a kid so i would just roll around on that

[megamindsecretlair]

Give Me Everything

Pairing: Husband!Terry Richmond x Wife!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FLUFF, cursing, teasing, PIV, oral (male receiving), fingering (fem receiving), dirty talk, use of the n-word, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: Thanksgiving Day was always a hustle and bustle of activity and noise, two things you don’t usually like even coming from a big family. While you flitted around checking in on everyone, you couldn’t help feeling a little selfish. After sending Terry a sexy picture while he was seated next to your father, you sneak off to your childhood bedroom to fulfill a little fantasy of yours.

Word Count: 5,518k

AO3 Link

A/N: Ya'll thought I was gonna let the holiday pass without a little treat? I lost the drabble challenge, but well, can't fight my brain no matter how hard I try. Happy Thanksgiving, happy bank holiday, or however you celebrate, many love and blessings to the greatest group of people ever. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

The rich smells of Thanksgiving food permeated the air and tickled your nostrils. You inhaled deeply as you flitted around the kitchen helping out the Aunties. No one messed with the Aunties on Thanksgiving.

You didn’t know how they managed to stay organized among the chaos. Between one of their husbands who constantly entered the kitchen asking when the food would be done and the little kids running throughout the house, it was a miracle they weren’t yelling and cursing up a storm.

“Fix me my medicine, baby,” Auntie Gee told you.

“Yes, ma’am,” you said. You pivoted away from helping Auntie Aileen with the yams and went over to the small pantry, grabbing supplies. You made a quick and dirty margarita for Auntie Gee and placed it in a glass. You already started in on another one because in one, two, three…

“I want one!” Auntie Mimi called out. You smiled to yourself, knowing your Aunties a little too well. Maybe you spent too much time around them all. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Your big family was a handful at times. But at the end of the day, it was nothing but good vibes and great conversation. The Aunties were currently going on about their favorite man, Denzel Washington.

“That man been fine his whole goddamn life!” Auntie Hope called from the round kitchen table. She cleaned the greens, taking the stems off and putting them into a red bowl, to be soaked in the kitchen sink a little later. Right now, your mom was at the farmhouse sink peeling potatoes. 

“Language, young lady!” Your grandmother, Grammy Alice, called out from the stove. She babysat the white sauce for the mac and cheese, carefully adding cheese and stirring to get the mixture right. 

“Sorry, momma,” Auntie Hope said. She grinned at you and winked. 

You giggled and handed Auntie Mimi her drink. “Thank you baby. You better get outta here before they snatch you to do something else,” she whispered.

And that’s why she was lowkey your favorite Auntie. You hugged and thanked her and then quietly slipped out while the Aunties discussed Denzel’s career. They categorically denounced Training Day as his best role. He was just playing a nigga, that’s all. They were stuck between John Q and Glory.

You left the spacious kitchen in a flash, disappearing around the corner and fell into the background as you soaked everything in. The well-decorated living room held most of the men yelling and screaming at the football game playing on the TV. They sat on the blue couch, lounge chairs, and picnic chairs all crowded around the large screen TV. You didn’t know a lick about the game, but by the sound of it, their team was making stupid ass decisions. 

Kids played Monopoly on the floor, a mix of little kids and the quieter teens who didn’t want to play with the older, rowdier teens outside. You carefully picked your way through the living room, stopping to place a kiss on your Dad’s withered cheek. You patted his shoulder and he brought his hand up to pat yours.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

“Yes, sir. Food coming along,” you said.

He groaned aloud with the Uncles and boyfriends, everyone throwing up their hands and calling the ref out of his name.

“They need to get that blind mu’fucka off the field!” Uncle Cornell said. He was the only one semi-dressed up in a pair of slacks and a button up shirt. You didn’t know where Auntie Mimi found this character. 

Your dad chuckled, returning his attention to you. “Good, good. I’ma just sit here until your mom says it’s time,” your dad said with a secret grin. He made the mistake of entering the kitchen early one year, reaching for a piece of the ham and receiving a swift spoon to the back of the hand from Grammy Alice. He still had a little scar from how hard she popped him. 

“Probably for the best,” you said with a giggle. 

You left the living room, trekking through the raucous house in search for a little bit of peace. As much as you loved how big your family was, you were decidedly the opposite sometimes. You didn’t draw strength from being around so many people. You craved the quiet and silence that came with being by your lonesome. Probably a consequence of being an only child.

Perhaps that was one of the main things that drew you to your husband, Terry. He was the opposite to your family as well. Calm under pressure, quiet and unassuming despite his size; he really was perfect for you. 

You found him on the wide back porch with your cousins, sitting around a table playing dominoes. The teens and older cousins chased each other around the yard playing some game they made up years ago. You never understood the rules and your ass was too tired to continue chasing them around.

Some of the girl cousins watched their younger, baby siblings as they talked about whatever it was kids were into these days. Full. Your life was full to bursting and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You approached Terry and pecked his cheek. “Hey baby,” Terry said, lowering his dominoes to the table. He turned to you and wrapped his arm around your waist from his seated position. 

“Just checking on you, is all,” you said. “You need anything?” 

Terry used his free hand to lift his half empty beer bottle. “Naw, I should be good for a minute. You need anything?” 

“She needs to leave the table so I can get back to whoopin’ yo ass, Marine boy!” Your cousin, Emery, yelled as he slammed down a domino. “Go on and put that thirty-five down for your boy!” He snickered as the game keeper, Darell, laughed and marked down Emery’s points. 

Terry chuckled and shook his head. He peeked over at the scorecard on the notebook by Darell’s elbow. “Maybe you need to go back to math class. I’m still winning,” Terry said. 

A chorus of oooh’s and damn’s and “You gon’ let him talk to you like that, playboy?” rung around the wooden table. Emery waved them all off, a small smile on his face. 

“Alright, alright. Game ain’t over. Why don’t you go on? You killing the mood, girl,” Emery said. 

“I’m killing the mood? Just like a hatin’ nigga to focus on somebody else while he losing,” you said.

“Damn!” Cousin Craig yelled out, his long skinny face cracking into a harsh, wheezing laugh that only triggered everybody else to start laughing. 

You kissed Terry on the cheek once more, admiring the clean beard on his face. He looked good enough to eat himself. He wore a simple powder blue sweater with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of jeans that really showcased his sexy ass. Just looking at him caused your stomach to do little belly flips.

Terry squeezed your side and smirked up at you as if he saw the direction of your nasty thoughts. He winked at you and you bid your farewell to the men and their little game. 

The majority of the day passed too quickly as you went from group to group, checking in on everyone. The domino game ended and the cousins joined the Uncles in the living room to check on the remainder of the game.

“Girl, don’t you ever sit down?” Your cousin, Robyn, asked. She was in your age group, relaxing with the other girl cousins who laid across multiple blankets, sipping their drinks of choice, and chilling out. 

You chuckled. “Girl no. Between your momma and mine, I keep getting called to do something. And I feel like if I sit down, I’ma pass out,” you said, shaking your head. 

Robyn and Ronda were twins of Auntie Aileen’s and they both shivered at the mention of their mother. “Please, don’t summon her,” Ronda said, shaking her head. “That lady trynna get me set up with her co-worker.” She stuck out her tongue and gagged.

“Not toxic enough for you?” Auntie Hope’s daughter, Stacie, asked.

“Hell no! That girl likes…theater,” Ronda said, making the word sound dirty. You laughed with your cousins, shaking your head at her. Ronda had the worst luck with women. Last year, one threatened to throw herself into traffic if Ronda didn’t come outside to talk to her. 

You and your cousins merely stared at her through the screen door and dared her to do it. You didn’t really mean it, but the girl was dramatic as hell and too full of herself to actually go through with it. 

“Dare I go check in on the Aunties?” You asked.

There was a resounding, “No!”, that seemed to echo even while outside. You laughed with your cousins. You were feeling restless, though. Anxious. You needed something but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

Maybe it was just the holiday. You took after your mother in the sense that you had a strong need to make sure everybody was okay. Everybody had all their toes and fingers accounted for, no bruises, no yelling, or fighting. If everybody else was okay, then all was right in the world with you. 

But sometimes…you got a little impish. Like you wanted to cause trouble just to see what would happen. You wanted to disrupt the delicate balance of the house and festivities and do something wicked. 

An idea immediately came to mind and you didn’t think twice about it. You said goodbye to your cousins, stepping back into the house to check on your dad. Lately, he had been feeling more winded than usual. More tired. You urged him to go to the doctor, but the relationship between men and hospitals needed to be studied. He avoided it like it was a nail in a coffin. 

Terry sat next to your dad, yelling at the TV with him. He brought his beer to his lush lips and took a deep pull. Your core instantly heated looking at your man. There was precious little he did that didn’t absolutely turn you on. 

He caught you staring and winked at you. You grinned and took out your phone, snapping a quick picture of him. He tilted his head, giving you a look. You stuck your tongue out at him and then checked the score. You found a free recliner opposite your dad and sat down, finally taking the load off.

While everyone was distracted, you quickly sent Terry a text. He checked his smart watch and then glanced at you, furrowing his eyebrows in an unspoken question. You smiled sweetly at him while he dug out his phone and checked your message.

💬 You sent a photo.

“Can Big Daddy come play?”

Terry immediately placed his phone down on his thigh, turning wide eyes towards you. You rocked in the recliner, grinning at him. You had sent a thirst trap to him, one you snapped in the bathroom earlier in the day. You had meant to show him at a later time, maybe while he was at work and needed a pick me up. 

He scooted forward on the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees. He rubbed his beard and tried to suppress a grin, subtly shaking his head at you. 

You continued to rock, feeling pleased as punch. You tried to see if he was getting hard but he was bent too much forward. The men groaned at the latest ref’s call and you turned to the TV to see the teams setting up for another play. 

You glanced back at Terry who kept his eyes trained on you. When you caught his eye, he narrowed them slightly and then jerked his head towards the stairs. You grinned and got up first, heading up to the second floor that remained off limits to everybody. Less rooms to clean up afterwards. 

The great thing about having a big family was that it was easy to disappear with no one the wiser. You headed upstairs to your childhood bedroom, closing the door behind you. The room was just as you left it in your early twenties when you finally moved out. There was still stuffed animals and an overflowing bookshelf in the corner, a wide dresser stretched underneath your TV, and “grown-up” art on the walls. You sometimes missed the B2K and B5 posters had tacked to your wall for years. 

Anticipation churned in your stomach as you waited for Terry’s quiet footfalls to follow behind you on the shaggy, brown carpet. A moment later, there was a soft knock and then Terry entered, looking behind the door for you. You ushered him in and then closed and locked the door, wrapping your hands around his neck.

He had to bend down slightly so that it wasn’t incredibly awkward for you and he groaned. “You trynna get me killed?” He demanded, stepping back to look you in the face.

You giggled and clasped your hands behind your back. “Whatever do you mean?” You asked. 

Terry smirked and advanced on you, causing you to bite your lip and retreat. He crossed the distance in one second, his long legs carrying him forward. He cupped your neck in both of his warm, strong hands and you moaned, eyes sinking lower now that you were back in his capable hands. 

“You think you slick sendin’ that picture while I was right next to your dad?” He asked.

You giggled again. Ugh, you couldn’t help it. He made you feel so feminine and girly whenever he went all big and strong on you. You were working on being more bold, opening your mouth and asking for what you wanted. But sometimes, you got so twisted up with nerves your mouth didn’t work. 

“Did you like it?” You asked. 

Terry squeezed your neck and you sighed at the pressure. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. “You know I liked it,” he said, glancing down at the front of his pants. You followed his gaze and noticed his dick pressed against the fabric of his jeans. You reached out to rub his bulge. 

He lifted an eyebrow at you. “What’s gotten into you?” He asked.

“I can’t just want my man?” You asked. You continued to rub him, watching as his own eyes drooped. His naturally dark eyelashes nearly fanned his high cheekbones. 

“You know, there is one fantasy I always wanted to act out,” you said, forcing yourself to say the words. Even after years of marriage, Terry made you feel like a school girl with a crush. Guess you could never really shake that bit of shyness from growing up in a loud household and seeking only peace. 

“Is that right,” he murmured. 

“Mhmm. I never really got to have boys in my room growing up,” you said. You blinked up at him with a smile hovering over your lips. Terry lightly squeezed your neck, stepping closer, as you continued to rub him through his jeans. His breathing increased, soft pitfalls loud in your ear because he was so close to you. 

“Am I the first boy in your room?” He asked. 

“Maybe. But don’t get a big head about it,” you said. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. His thumbs rubbed across your pulse points on both sides of your neck, turning you stupid in less than a second. You lost your train of thought as the rough slide of his fingers sent electric zings down to the tips of your toes. Your panties grew damp as you sighed. 

You kept waiting for the honeymoon phase to be over, but after a while, you just accepted that you two were just that intense for each other. Growing up, you saw your grandparents, parents, and extended family all find the love of their lives, each carving out a special relationship with their significant others. 

But it was Auntie Aileen’s marriage that you admired. Sometimes she and her husband seemed to communicate with just a look. Like they were the only two people in the world and everything else was background noise. You wanted and craved that. And by some miracle, you found that with Mr. Terry Richmond. 

“And, there’s a few things that I always wanted to do with a boy in my room if I ever got the chance,” you said. Your hands slipped to his jeans, unbuttoning them and then sliding the zipper down. 

“Mm, I think I like where this is going. You know, I had a similar fantasy,” he said. He smirked as you lowered his jeans enough to get to his boxer briefs. His dick was hot to the touch through the fabric, balls heavy, and you slipped your hand beneath the waistband to get to your prize. 

“Is that so?” You asked, palming his dick. He hissed and then released the sigh in a shudder. You grinned, feeling like the most powerful person ever. Just you gripping him caused a reaction. It was heady and intoxicating and you would never get sick of it. 

“Mhm. See, I always wanted to fuck my wife in her childhood home. Like it was a badge of honor or somethin’,” he said, his voice getting deeper and rougher. 

You shivered. Your panties were practically soaked now. Your pussy throbbed at the thought of you both having similar fantasies. You stepped back from his hands around your neck and then dropped down your knees. 

Terry’s eyebrows lifted as you grinned at him. You pressed your nose into his crotch and nuzzled. Terry sighed, petting your head as you tugged his briefs down to expose the long, thick length of him. 

The tip of his dick swelled, pre-cum already beading. You swiped your tongue out and licked it causing Terry to jerk his hips forward. “As much as I love this, we better hurry before one of the Aunties come looking for you,” he said.

You pouted. He was right. A bunch of girls to choose from to handle anything around the house and somehow it always fell to you. 

You sighed and kissed his dick, making it jump. “Don’t worry, buddy, I’ll make it up to you later,” you said.

Terry laughed and pleasure zinged through you. You loved pleasing your man. Whether it was making him laugh, checking in on him, or pleasing him during sex, you loved it when you could just make him feel good. 

Terry helped guide his dick into your mouth and you looked up at him while you worked in tandem. He pushed in and you sunk onto his dick, wrapping your lips around him. His hairs tickled your face but you kept your mind focused on making him cum as quickly as possible. 

Little did he know, you were in a competition with yourself to make him bust faster and faster. Maybe it was simply the competitive spirit in you. But you swore you’ve come from just a look from him. Turnabout was only fair play. 

Light from your window illuminated Terry through the slats of the blinds. He tipped his head back, mouth falling open as you worked him over with your tongue and hands. You gripped his base, squeezing how he liked while you took the rest in your mouth.

“Fuuck, this mouth of yours,” he moaned. Your pussy throbbed harder, growing wet from the sounds of his moans, the look of pleasure on his face. His eyes were closed, hands around the back of your head to push your mouth further down. 

You took him in and bobbed your head, really getting into pleasing him. You shifted on your knees and squeezed his dick harder. You moaned around his length, getting lost in the feeling of him throbbing in your mouth. His dick poked your cheek and you teased the tip with your tongue.

“Just like that,” he coached so you did it again. You teased the tip while you sucked him off, loud gawking echoing in your ears. 

Saliva slipped from your mouth and drooped down your chin, letting him slip easier in and out. You increased your ministrations, bobbing in a frenzy, watching for any signs of his discomfort. 

You saw none of that. Instead, his face was twisted in a sexy mix of pleasure and pain. Soft moans escaped his mouth as you kept going, kept trying to take him deeper, kept trying to swallow him whole. 

“Fuckin’ perfect. So fuckin’ perfect with my dick in your mouth,” he cooed. 

You moaned, growing unbearably wet at his words. Your jaw started to ache but you ignored it in favor of wanting to get him off. Wanting him to bust in your mouth. You widened your jaw and he sunk in a little deeper.

He groaned and looked down at you. “I’m finna bust,” he whispered.

You grinned around his dick and kept up what you were doing until he gripped your head and spilled down your throat. His moans were their own aphrodisiac, filling you with pride that you got your man off so quickly. You swallowed his cum, something you were still getting used to, and then continued to suck. 

Terry huffed, hips jerking forward, as he couldn’t decide between laughing and moaning. He had to gently push at your head to make you stop and he eased his dick out. “You must think you’re cute,” he said.

You pinched your thumb and forefinger together. “A little,” you said. 

Terry chuckled, grabbing your hands and helping you stand. He kissed you, gripping your face to his to make you stay. You sighed with a moan, wrapping your arms around him. You made out for a good, long while, soaking up each other’s desperate kisses. 

“My turn,” he whispered against your lips. 

You only had a brief moment to catch the devious, nearly evil look in his eye as he lifted your plain gray T-shirt over your head. He didn’t take it off, instead he just wanted the collar over your head to expose your black, lacy bra. 

He groaned, getting a live view of the sexy picture you sent him earlier. He thumbed your nipples through the bra, making them bead up. He backed you towards your closet door, then dropped his head to suck on your nipples around your bra.

You moaned, gripping the back of his neck. “Oh fuck,” you moaned.

“Shhh. We ain’t trynna get caught ‘cause of your nasty ass,” he said.

“My nasty ass?” You asked with a giggle. 

“Your nasty, sexy, delicious ass, yes,” Terry said in between licking and kissing your titties. He used his index finger in between the cups to lower it, exposing your nipples to his gaze. He tucked the cups of your bra beneath your titties and went back to sucking on them. 

Each suckle sent a wave of heat through your body and if you weren’t careful, you’d turn into a raging inferno right there in your childhood bedroom. Your moans only increased, getting louder the more he worked that glorious, hot tongue on you. 

You wished you had enough time to get your pussy licked on. But you were already pushing the envelope at the moment with so many people just downstairs. Risk of discovery only turned you on more, your pussy clenching around nothing. 

Terry slipped his hand down your leggings and past your underwear, finding you soaked. He paused with your nipple in his mouth. “You got this wet from sucking me off?” He asked with his mouth full. 

You nodded. “Sure did,” you said.

Terry closed his eyes briefly and sighed. “Good to know,” he murmured. 

You didn’t have time to ask him about that because he went back to sucking on your titties while he plunged two fingers into your pussy. You cried out, and he gave you a warning look, before working those long, thick fingers in and out of you.

“I-I didn’t suck you off to get something back,” you whispered. As much as you would like to turn this into a full on session, you were also cognizant of the time. Surely, someone would come looking soon, right? You weren’t exactly subtle heading upstairs. 

“Think I’ma leave my favorite girl like this?” He asked. He emphasized his point by plunging his fingers faster, the squelching of your pussy smacked in the room. 

“Oh, baby. Oh, Terry, please, I’m gonna…unnf,” you moaned as quietly as you were able. 

“That’s okay, baby, you cum on these fingers. You cum all over this fingers f’me,” he murmured, still treating your titties like his favorite meal. He kissed, suckled, and nibbled until you turned into a puddle in his arms.

You were only held up by your hands around his neck and his arms around you. You shook violently, trapping his fingers between your thighs as you rode out your orgasm. Terry still managed to wiggle his fingers inside, rubbing against a sweet, sweet spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids. 

Your nails dug into his soft sweater and you shivered on your way down from it. Terry kissed and rubbed his beard against your nipples. Was the man trying to kill you? 

He leaned back and smiled at you. “I love the look you give me after you cum,” he said.

You giggled. “What look is that, sir?” You asked.

“Like a well-satiated woman. That’s always my goal,” he said.

You smiled and tilted your hand. “You better be careful talking to me like that. I might think you wanna marry me,” you said.

Terry chuckled. “Oh, I wanna do more than marry you,” he said. He grinned and then gripped the waistband of your leggings and panties. He slid the pants down your legs, his hand traveling behind to rub against your thighs. 

You stared at each other, smiles hovering on your faces, as he got them down to your calves. You stepped out of them and Terry wasted no time picking you up. You yelped as he spread you wide open, hooking your thighs around his waist.

Holding his hand under your ass, he used his other one to guide his dick into your slick heat. Your eyes widened at the glorious, burning stretch as you sank down onto him. Your toes curled as he sank in deeper and deeper, your essence making the trip easy. 

Terry maneuvered his arms under your knees, so that he could easily lift you up and down on his dick. You gripped onto him for dear life, turning wide, panicked eyes to him. You didn’t think he’d drop you, no, your husband was too strong and capable for that. You just felt like you were about to rip apart at the seams and he was the only thing keeping you together. 

“You did say you wanted Big Daddy to come and play, right?” He whispered, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was slow, smooth, and so damn hot you clenched around his dick. He groaned and lifted you off his dick just to sink back in. 

“Don’t be using my words against me,” you said.

“Oh word?” He asked with a grin. All the niceties flew out of the window. He started slamming you up and down on his dick, that stretching burn making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, bringing your face closer to his. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck and held on while he fucked you, stuffed you, and filled you so completely you felt him all over. He was in your heart, your mind, and your soul, writing his name in the threads of your being. 

“There’s my good girl. I’m so fuckin’ proud of you,” he said.

You whined against his face, peppering him with sloppy kisses. “I love you,” you said.

“I love you, too. I like when you get bold. Let me know you want this dick,” he said. He rubbed his beard against your cheek and you moaned.

“I want it. Please, I want it,” you whispered. 

Knocking drew your attention to your door. You turned wide eyes to Terry who stopped moving. He glanced towards the door. 

“Baby, you in there?” Your mom called out. Your heart beat in double time, fear turning your insides icy.

“What should I do?” You whispered. Okay, you lied, getting caught would suck ass right now. There was no way to explain this to your mom. You just didn’t talk about these things with her. As far as she was concerned, you were married but still a virgin.

“If you don’t answer, she gonna send a search party,” he whispered back.

“Yeah, mom?” You called out. 

“What are you doing in there? Food’s getting ready to be done so I need your help organizing the line,” she said.

“Yes, mommy, I-I wasn’t feeling well so I came to lay down,” you called out. 

“Do you need some medicine? You want me to grab Terry?” She asked. 

Terry grinned and started moving you up and down on his dick again. Your jaw dropped, tummy fluctuating between arousal and fear. The normal butterflies in your stomach were having a field day. 

You slapped at his shoulder to get him to stop. Or quit fucking around. He couldn’t think this was a great idea, making you take his dick like this while talking to your mom. He grinned innocently, moving his lips down back to your nipples to suck.

You closed your eyes, not knowing where to focus your attention. “Uh-no! I’m okay! I’ll be out soon, promise!” Oh, fuck, he hit a good spot inside you and you clutched him to you.

“Alright, better come on. Your Uncle Remy ‘bout to work my damn nerves,” your mother sniffed as she presumably went on down the hallway. 

You gasped and tapped Terry’s shoulder again. Terry answered you with a chuckle and then ended on a moan. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he moaned like it was a glorious revelation. His deep voice skated along your nerve endings, making your tummy flip with desire. 

“Terry, please!” You moaned.

“Big Daddy ain’t finished yet,” he said and nuzzled your neck. He placed kisses there while he pumped his arms, moving you up and down on his dick. Your toes curled once more, fast approaching that train to nirvana. 

“Oh, please, Big Daddy, I can’t take it,” you cried. 

“Sure you can. Cum on this dick so I can fill you up. Let me feel it,” he said into your neck. His groans joined yours, hips jerking into you like he was close as well. “Soak this dick, baby.”

You dropped your head to his shoulder and let the orgasm roll over you like a subway train. You twitched and jerked on him, keening whines and cries filling your room as you lost sound in your right eye. 

Or maybe this was that nirvana you were dreaming of. Maybe you slipped into another plane of existence where your souls danced and entwined for eternity. Either way, Terry’s groans brought you back to this side of existence while he stuffed you full of his cum.

The hot, thick spurts throbbed with his dick, sliding against your inner walls. You cried, feeling overwhelmed and thoroughly fucked out. You both panted and huffed as you came down, gathering your senses post-nut. 

You smiled dopily at your man and he flashed you a beautiful, wide grin. “There’s that look I love so much,” he said.

“You are dangerous,” you said.

He chuckled. “Saying I’m dangerous while your pussy feel this good squeezing my dick. Just say you don’t wanna let go,” he said.

You squeezed his dick and he laughed, lowering you carefully to the floor. Once he slipped out, his cum came rushing out of you and you closed your eyes to enjoy the sensation. Terry suddenly pushed his cum right back in.

“Terry!” You screamed. 

He chuckled. “I can’t help it. I like watching my cum slide out of you,” he said. He planted a kiss on your forehead and you smiled at him while you crossed the room to your dresser. Sometimes, you came to spend the night with your parents to help keep an eye on your dad while your mom got a break.

You grabbed an extra pair of panties and a towel from off of your bed. You cleaned yourself up as best as you were able and then slipped your leggings back on. Thank goodness that a bathroom was directly across from your room. You wouldn’t have to trek far to get fully cleaned up. 

Terry stuffed that dangerous monster back into his jeans. You stood, transfixed, watching him slide the denim over his dick and zip up his pants with a little hop. 

“Happy Thanksgiving, Big Daddy,” you said, admiring your man.

“Happy Thanksgiving, baby,” he said, pulling you into a hug and one final kiss before leaving your room in a cloud of marital bliss.

The end.

I love you all and I'm so thankful for you. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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@thegreatlibraryofalex @amyhennessyhouse @hihellogoodbyebruh @becauseimswagman1

[faithshouseofchaos]

Daniel’s first thanksgiving— Daniel Ricciardo x fem!Reader

Word count 631

Fluff

Daniel Ricciardo stood on the wraparound porch of his girlfriend Y/N’s family home, taking in the crisp southern air. The house was alive with the sounds of laughter, a country playlist humming from a Bluetooth speaker, and the clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen. Thanksgiving in the South was something he’d only ever seen in movies, but experiencing it firsthand was a whole other beast. He tugged at the collar of his button-down shirt, already feeling like the center of attention before he even stepped inside.

The moment he crossed the threshold, the teasing began.

“Well, well, if it ain’t the Aussie we’ve been hearing about,” Y/N’s cousin Billy drawled, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “What’d you do to trick our girl into bringin’ you down here?”

Daniel grinned, running a hand through his messy curls. “Must be my accent, mate. Works like a charm.”

“Oh, honey,” Y/N’s mom chimed in from the kitchen, peering at Daniel over her glasses. “That accent’ll only get you so far. We’ve got high standards in this family.”

“Ma,” Y/N groaned, shooting her mom a look as she grabbed Daniel’s hand to lead him further in.

“I’m just sayin’!” her mom called after them. “Don’t want him thinkin’ he’s got it too easy!”

At the table, her dad sized Daniel up like he was studying the competition in a poker game. “So, son,” he began, “what exactly do you do? I heard somethin’ about you drivin’ cars real fast.”

“Yes, sir,” Daniel said, sitting up a little straighter. “I’m a Formula One driver.”

Her uncle snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Ain’t that just goin’ in circles all day? NASCAR’s where the real talent is.”

“Uncle Joe,” Y/N groaned, but Daniel chuckled, rolling with the punches.

“Close enough,” he said with a wink. “But I’ll give NASCAR a go if you think you can teach me a thing or two.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Uncle Joe slapped the table. “This one’s quick, I’ll give him that!”

But the teasing didn’t stop there.

“Y/N said you can cook,” her little sister, Maddie, piped up, leaning her elbows on the table. “That true, or are you just pretty to look at?”

Daniel raised his brows, looking to Y/N for help. She only grinned, enjoying every second of it.

“I can cook,” Daniel said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But I wouldn’t put me in charge of the turkey. Maybe the mashed potatoes?”

“Oh, we’ll put you to the test next time,” Y/N’s grandma said with a sly smile, her Southern drawl thick. “But don’t you worry, sugar, you can just sit there and look pretty today.”

By dessert, Daniel was laughing as hard as everyone else, fully embracing the playful chaos. He didn’t mind being the butt of their jokes—especially when he caught Y/N’s dad giving him an approving nod across the table.

As the family filed into the living room for football and post-dinner naps, Y/N pulled Daniel aside onto the porch, the soft glow of string lights above them.

“They really like you,” she said, leaning into him.

Daniel smirked, his arm sliding around her waist. “Oh, I got that loud and clear when your grandma called me ‘sugar.’”

“Yeah,” she laughed, resting her head against his chest. “They only tease the people they like.”

“Well,” he said, tipping her chin up to meet his gaze, his smile warm, “good thing I like them, too.”

From inside, her uncle’s voice rang out. “Hey, Aussie! We’re throwin’ the football—don’t wimp out on us!”

Daniel laughed, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “Guess I’ve got another round of initiation to pass.”

She grinned. “Welcome to the family, Ricciardo.”

[zaine-m]

I like to think that Jayce and Viktor get a happy ending in the other universe too

Jayce feels awful that hextech took a life. Especially seeing powder (who is around the same age he was when him and his mom were saved by hextech) holding her dead sister's body

He says similar things as in the start of the trial but now fully meaning them and never mentions trying to create magic

Vander comes to Jayce's trial and stands up for him, saying he's just a stupid kid with a dream to help people who didn't know what he was doing

"Vi's with her mom now, let Jayce go home to his"

He does still sneak into his lab to attempt suicide but this time Viktor's "am I interrupting?" doesn't do anything, Jayce just turns back around and jumped, not being able to handle the guilt of accidentally taking a life while also realizing his life's work only caused harm

He survives the attempt and wakes up in a hospital bed, paralyzed from the waist down with his mother crying next to him

Viktor comes in a bit later while his mom is out making some food for him

His tone is completely too cold for the situation. Jayce is in complete despair and Viktor refuses to match the mood

He says most of the same stuff about how hextech can change people's lives but Jayce responds "yeah, well so far all it's done is a take the life of an innocent child"

"ehh, she was from the undercity. I grew up there, many children did not live to see adulthood"

"How does that make anything better?"

"Because this has the potential to change that. One explosion? There are toxic fumes and polluted waters slowly killing hundreds of children each year"

"Even if I wanted to I'm banned from the academy and ..." *waves at legs*

"pshh, you think trenchers are supposed to be at the academy and everything I did in my life I did while being disabled"

"Listen, I can't help you"

Viktor leaves Jayce's bracelet by his bed and heads towards the door. Jayce takes one look at it and throw it across the room in anger. "you probably shouldn't throw that", "GET OUT!"

A while later Vander comes to invite Jayce to Vi's memorial at the last drop

Jayce feels so guilty when he first comes into the last drop, everyone is staring at him

He sees Ekko, the kind little kid who had sold him such reasonably prices wares just days before his experiments accidentally killed his friend

Powder just starting going at him when she first sees him, her weak child-who-has-never-punched-before fists do very little damage especially because she's going so fast she doesn't fully pull her hands back

Jayce just lets her at it, crying and apologizing between the blows

Vander comes to pull Powder off of him, "it wasn't his fault, he didn't know how dangerous the materials were" she just looks back and screams at him before going back to her bedroom

Vander takes Jayce on a walk through the undercity to talk,

"Everyone in there knew what I did?"

"huh, no?"

"they were looking at me like I was a monster"

"yeah, that's cause you're dressed like a piltie"

"ohh, ha... I'm so sorry about what happened to Vi"

"It's a shame, but she's with her parents now"

*Jayce looks down, only feeling worse finding out the girl he killed was an orphan*

"You want to know how her parents died?" *they arrive at the bridge* "I thought I could help the undercity, create a better world by fighting for sovereignty. I led us across this bridge and lost so many people in the process, the undercity is still recovering"

"I'm so sorry"

"I was like you, I was young and ambitious and I wanted to help people. But you know what I learned. You don't need to make giant leaps to help the people around you"

On the way back Vander points out all the ways he's helped different people in the undercity, helping them make a business plan, caring for their kids when they were sick, helping them find a community at the last drop

He also points out all the things that could be helped like roofs with holes in them and cliffs that should have railings

"You don't need hextech to help the world, Jayce"

Jayce spends his time between his family's forge doing hammer work and around the undercity working as a handyman, building what he can to help people

Eventually he tracks down Viktor, hoping to find ways to make a more systemic change for things like the dirty water and polluted air

Viktor works on studies surveying the living conditions of those in the undercity and seeing what affects it has on expected lifespan and the likelihood of developing different diseases to present to the council

That along with the more pro-Zaun push that's been happening since Vi's death he gets quite a bit of work done

While he's doing this Jayce does what he can to start implementing changes by making water filters and distributing masks to those in the slump levels

After a few years Jayce petitions to be let back into the academy to help Viktor with his work on a formal level and with outstanding testimonials from many people in the undercity he's let back in

When their work making the undercity safer is done they move onto studying how to treat the various illnesses people in the undercity have suffered from living there

first starting with Viktor's various physical health issues and finding that a lot of his issues come from it never being studied how to use mobility aids and how improper use can put a strain on other parts of your body so he switched to a forearm crutch to help his back

I'm gonna say in this universe Viktor just has severe asthma which they're able to find medicines to treat so he still has issues breathing in a lot of the undercity, he just wears a mask most of the time and keeps his medication with him

Viktor and Jayce end up dating but it happens to slowly that it's hard to realize, they just spend all their time together working on their research and then they get an apartment together because they were both looking for roommates

Jayce stopped looking for people to date after the accident because he was going through a big life change and never got back in the game and Viktor always rejected anyone, saying he was too busy with his studies

Jayce is just physically affectionate in a way where hugging Viktor a lot turns into Viktor sitting on his lap whenever his leg is sore turns into Jayce playing with Viktor's hair when he's bored turns into them cuddling on the couch turns into them cuddling in bed turns into kisses on the forehead when one of them is sick turns into kisses when they're not sick

They're at the last drop one day and Viktor gets up off Jayce's lap to use with washroom and Vander asks Jayce, "so you think you'll propose soon" Jayce almost spits out his food, "what, what do you mean?"

"I mean you've been dating for like what 5 years now. You gotta pop the question sooner or later"

"umm... yeah" wait fuck are we dating, have we been dating for 5 years, what

In bed that night: "Viktor, I... I think I might like you... like romantically. I guess I never thought about it but I was talking to Vander and... and you've been the most important person in my life for the past like 6 years"

"Jayce, I thought we were dating? How are you only realizing this now"

"ohh"

"I called you my partner"

"I thought you meant like research partner"

"we kissed a lot"

"I thought those were like just for comfort... between friends"

*Viktor kisses him passionately but not the most passionately they've kissed before*

"Does that seem like it would be between friends?"

"heh, now that you mention it I guess not"

[sturn777]

skater bf matt x rich reader hcs?

skater!bf!matt x rich!reader headcanons . | ( female reader ) wc ?? ( masterlist ) + ( request )

boyfriend!matt who always has calloused hands from skating but keeps yours soft like it’s his job. he’ll carry your prada bag in one hand while holding yours in the other, even if it gets him teased by his friends. “bro, i’m whipped and i don’t care.”

boyfriend!matt who gives you a skateboard just for aesthetic purposes, even though he knows you’ll never use it. he spray paints your initials on the bottom and makes sure it’s the exact same color as the new gucci loafers you just bought. he secretly loves how out of place it looks propped up in your designer-filled bedroom.

boyfriend!matt who takes you to skateparks but never lets you step foot on a board. “you’ll break an ankle in those heels,” he says, but the real reason is that he’s too scared you’ll get hurt. instead, he’ll let you sit on the sidelines while he shows off. every trick is 10x more impressive because he knows you’re watching.

boyfriend!matt who writes your initials on the grip tape of his board like a lowkey claim. his friends notice, of course, but he plays it off like it’s no big deal. “yeah, so what? she’s my girl.”

boyfriend!matt who gets annoyed when you pay for everything, but secretly loves that you insist. you’ll buy him new skate shoes without a second thought, and he’ll grumble, “you didn’t have to do that,” but he’s already lacing them up and showing them off to nick and chris.

boyfriend!matt who loves that you’re completely out of his league but never lets you feel like it. to him, you’re just his girl, the one who keeps his head on straight and his heart soft.

boyfriend!matt who finds your world so overwhelming but can’t imagine not being in it. he’ll sit stiffly on your cloud couch in your marble-lined living room, wearing his scuffed vans, legs spread wide while your dad tries to make polite conversation. he just smirks at you across the room, mouthing, “this is insane,” and you can’t help but laugh because, yeah, it kind of is.

boyfriend!matt who doesn’t get why you insist on coming to his late-night skate sessions, but secretly loves it when you’re there. you’re perched on the edge of an empty fountain in your oversized blazer, legs crossed, scrolling through your phone. he looks up after nailing a trick, and you’re already grinning at him like he hung the moon.

boyfriend!matt who teaches you how to ollie in your pristine backyard. the board wobbles under your feet, and you let out this little shriek that makes him laugh so hard he falls over in the grass. “you’re hopeless,” he says, but his hands are steady as he holds your waist, guiding you step by step until you kind of get it.

boyfriend!matt who knows nothing about fashion but will stand outside a boutique holding all your shopping bags, grinning like he’s won something. you come out looking effortlessly put-together, and he whistles low under his breath. “damn, babe, you really went all out for me, huh?”

boyfriend!matt who presses stickers from his favorite brands onto your hydro flask and luggage because “you need to roughen it up a little.” you roll your eyes, but he catches you tracing the outline of his thrasher sticker later, and it makes him grin.

boyfriend!matt who has zero shame rolling into your country club brunch with a scraped-up knee and a t-shirt that smells like sweat and asphalt. he’ll kiss your cheek in front of all the pearl-wearing moms just to watch you blush. “what? they should know who you belong to.”

boyfriend!matt who says, “don’t touch that,” every time you try to clean one of his skateboards, but secretly loves when you do. you polish the wheels like they’re vintage car parts, and it makes his heart ache a little.

taglist : ( @emely9274 ; @bluestriips ; @loveparqdise ; @flouqissss ; @st4rcs ; @starwebber9 ; @conspiracy-ash ; @sweetrelieef ; @chris-hallelujah ; @leoslaboratory )

[cupidsblonde]

so do i look like him?

after katsuki’s death, the only thing your parents can see in you is him

when you used to imagine giving a speech about your younger brother, you have imagined it everywhere but here.

maybe a wedding

at an award show  

anywhere but here.

“i remember when katsuki first got his quirk, we all knew he was destined for greatness… but he was ripped away from us to soon.” you say lip quivering.

“he will never be able to live out his dream. or live out the life that had so many great things ahead of him. ripped from the arms of his loved ones, from his greatness, from his determination.” voice breaking, tears falling down your face.

“tomura shigaraki, i promise that if i ever find you, you will be ripped from the hearts of the people motivated by you, just as you did my brother” you say staring straight into the broadcasting camera, which was showing your brothers funeral all across the world.

since he was a nation wide hero. but he never got to be the hero he wanted to be, rich, famous, doing what he loved. 

for he was famous. this just wasn’t how anyone imaged it.

 was this all he was going to be to the world? a dead kid, who had a dream of being a hero and died on his way there in a war he had no place fighting in? 

is that kid the only thing your parents will ever be able to see in you?

being the eldest was great, until katsuki was gone. 

incident one

 you where all sitting around the dinning table. katsuki’s spot next to your empty. nothing but his lingering smell of caramel, which was fading, and quickly. it was quite. you just wanted to eat, and go to sleep. 

you pick up your fork and go to put the food into your mouth, clamping your mouth around the fork and unbeknownst to you, the scratching food. 

you groan, grimace and catch your parents eyes. they’re both staring at you. like you did something wrong. you can see the tears welling in their eyes. your mom slams her fork down and gets up from the table 

“excuse me” she says in a hushed tone. you didn’t know what happened. you looked to your dad for an answer. 

“you just looked a lot like him right then” you dad almost whispers to you.

incident two

you missed katsuki a lot.

his grunts

his anger

his determination 

his want 

his excellency.

you and everyone in your house avoided his room like the plague. scared that if it was changed even a little bit, something would happen. 

but you just couldn’t take not even smelling his scent around the house anymore. you went into his room one day. 

16 years of coming into his room, annoying him, crying to him, watching movies with him. had come to end. you sat on the floor, sat in his bed, sat at his desk and you made your way to his closet. that’s where it smelt the most of him. aside from his bed, but even that was fading.

all you wanted to do was cry. there was no way he was coming back, you know that. right? 

you continue to go into his spaces. just hoping your going to find your younger brother there. watch him study maybe, even hope you would be able to hear him yell at you to “get the f out of my room”. 

but you would never get to have that’s again. 

this time it was your dad. 

you had said something that you picked up from katsuki and your dad froze where he stood. 

you could tell he had been cracking his shell he made when katsuki died. push everything down to hold the family together. so he needed to get away. he stopped what he was doing and went to he and your mothers room. 

“you just looked a lot like him, with that look on your face, saying that.” your mother quivered out to you. sobbing and choking at the end of her sentence.

incident three

you had been falling back into a place that katsuki an you both worked so hard to get you out of mentally. 

you where drinking again

back on drugs

it started slow. just how it always did. 

you had been clean for nearly 2 years. you obviously didn’t need your younger brother to keep you a normal ass person, who wasn’t drinking all the time, sleeping all the time, back on drugs.

bakugo katsuki, your younger brother, your best friend. was one of the only things that kept you on the earth. 

but now, it was your parents. not because you where happy all the time with them as you where with katsuki. 

but having to bury both of their children? you couldn’t do that to them. 

so you began getting sober again. the drugs stopped and the drinking stopped, you had been reminded that katsuki helped you out of that dark, dark place and if he saw you just fall right back into it as soon as he’s gone, he would be disappointed.

it was hard, because it wand ike he was gone on a trip. he was gone, for good.

this time, it was both of them. both of your parents. 

you grabbed any random hoodie one day, not even realizing it was your brothers. you came down the stairs and your parents where right in the view of the stairs, and stopped when you came down. 

you then realized. 

you wouldnt ever be your own person now. atleast not to your parents. 

you understood, their child was gone. and you reminded them of him. and that’s … hard.

not only for them but also for yourself.

this is the first time you started to catch on 

“do i look like him?” 

both of your parents nodded quickly, tears filling their eyes and they both walked away very quickly. 

of course you went to go change.

but that’s when you realized, 

his scent wasn’t on the hoodie anymore 

the more that you thought about it. his scent wasn’t anywhere around the house anymore, aside for his room, which was fading. 

incident four

you where going through an old photo album, you all missed katsuki in with all of your hearts. 

there where a bunch of pictures of katsuki but it started getting easier to look at them. easier to, accept.

but there was this one problem, this one picture. that had your mother sobbing, your dad with tears streaming down your face and you, your face plastered with an a thousand yard stare. your mouth fell open, you wanted to say something. 

anything, but you couldn’t. it felt like your vocal cords had been ripped out, your throat was burning. your eyes where being filled with tears. you closed the picture book slowly. 

you don’t remember much after that.

 all you feel right now is the pain in the balls of your feet from the heels your wearing, continusally having to pull your to short and to tight dress down and the feeling of your back side grinding up against a man that you meet at the bar merely a half hour ago.

“wanna get out of here ma?” the man who you didn’t even know who’s name.

next morning

you woke up next to this man, who you still didn’t know the name of. 

these type of nights continued on for weeks. 

you didn’t see your parents much, you where staying with your friends more and more and they are worried about you. they are always supportive, they understand what your going through. but they are worried.

and they had every reason to. especially tonight. 

when you didn’t come home, after you sobbed in mina’s arms are the first time. saying you wished it was you who was gone and not your brother. she was first your brothers friend, but she ended up being yours as well. 

you missed him, so so much. and you didn’t know how to handle it.

you had taken care of him for his whole life. being the eldest was hard. it was always hard. it was so much harder when the one thing keeping you going was now gone. 

you could see it in your parents eyes. the only thing in their eyes was sadness. so the only you could ask yourself now was 

“do i look like him?”

[fairiesthrum]

Can I be 🧚‍♀️ anon if it's not taken pls!! And ok... what are your thoughts on cult leader Geto? 🫣🫣

🎀 — OFC U CAN BE FAIRY ANON AHAKSJAUSJ

and abt cult leader geto hmmmm (incoming yap session y’all)

ngl, i expect his wife to absolutely HATE his guts. like i’m talking melania trump core (i made a small post abt this before).

i can just imagine some young woman from a powerful clan being forced to marry some weirdo obsessed with monkeys (cuz yes, you genuinely didn’t know what he was talking abt when he said monkeys and thought he was insane in the beginning. well... you still think he’s crazy).

i would describe suguru’s wife to be the “nonchalant” kind, very elegant, just cares abt that bag and living a good life. you have no interest in sexual relations with him at first (though he was super hot and that’s what pushed you to agree to the marriage in the first place), and neither does he (the both of you actually sleep in separate rooms). suguru only married you to gain support and followers. so all you had to do was make appearances beside him, sit pretty, act like everything was fine, and spend the rest of your life not having to lift a finger whilst gawking at your husband’s dashing looks. easy enough, right?

wrong. you actually end up learning he’s a cult leader through these strange meetings (yeah, your parents totally forgot to fill you in abt that part).

it sets you off (like fr mom and dad? a cult leader??) and you become irritated with him and everything he does more and more as the days pass. you start acting like an entirely different person, smacking his hand away when he tries to hold it in public, opting to clutch onto your designer purse instead. and geto just stands there with a close-eyed smile, laughing it off.

you couldn’t even stand to look at him. you married a psycho obsessed with killing non-sorcerers. but what could you do? your parents practically sold you to him! so the smartest thing you could think of in terms of fighting back was to not listen to a word he says. and it gets really awkward for the people around you both when you’re constantly acting like a bitch and geto sits there with a tight smile, everyone else in the room sharing concerned and nervous glances.

nowadays, all you ever really did was grovel abt your terrible life while wearing your designer clothes and wiping your tears with the designer handkerchief that you pull out of your designer handbag #richpplproblems

but suguru brushes off your behavior all the time, assuming you were having trouble adjusting even though it’s been two months and you used to act pretty normal in the beginning of your marriage. maybe it was a lot to process? so, he doesn’t do anything abt your attitude… until you really embarrass him.

it ends up with him dragging you into his bedroom, away from prying eyes, seething and red-faced. it was completely unlike your usually calm and collected husband, and it made you smug that you finally got a reaction out of him. and it pacified something inside of you, a part that was desperate for revenge due to being stuck in this god awful marriage.

geto, being the ever so observant person he was notices the change in your eyes, resulting in a back and forth between you two consisting of yelling and screaming. until, he finally slams his lips onto yours, shutting you up.

clothes are ripped off and then the next thing you know, both of you are fucking on your marriage bed for the first time, gasping out between moans abt how much you can’t stand each other.

the rest of that night was spent hate-fucking, then acting normal and back to snide remarks the next day. until it happens again… and again… and again.

only because both of you are scared to admit you enjoy the steamy sex and the fact you’ve started having feelings for each other since you’re both stubborn. so, the two of you just find an excuse to fuck all the time by getting on each other’s nerves.

anyways, that’s my take on cult leader geto ₓₓ

[antizenin]

𑁤 WAITING ON A MIRACLE ⋮ ATSUMU MIYA.

after losing his entire career and future, atsumu goes to the one person outside of his brother in hopes to alleviate the pain. and as always, you answer his calls with a plate of food and a needed kiss.

( fic demographics. ) haikyuu, miya atsumu, collaboration submission, sfw content | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 2367 words.

➛ pro-volleyball player!atsumu miya, afab!reader (nonspecified pronouns), friends to lovers!au, love confessions, a few tears being shed by atsumu.

( antizenin's cookbook collaboration ── a recipe for oxtail. ) my submission to my very own collaboration, lmao. happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate !

“If I wanted to eat, I would've gone to Osamu's,” Atsumu grumbles, sitting on your couch with a blanket draped over his body. Nonetheless, he takes the plate from your hand, the savory smell coming from the steaming hot plate that you had to him with a kitchen towel. A coursing ache running from the back of his ankle all the way up to his thigh when he reaches, having to shuffle to get a good hold. He winces— a sharp hiss leaving between his teeth, the cast on his foot has been placed doing nothing to alleviate the pain he's experiencing.

Now that he's on leave, he has nothing better to do with himself. It's not permanent, but it feels like it. It could damn well be if his Achilles tendon doesn't heal the way it needs to. And when it does, will he have time and the attention of the audience to make an impact like he once was?

You peer down at Atsumu, who still doesn't have a strong grip on the plate. You shove it more into him, letting the ceramic press into his chest as he finally uses both hands. You let it go, turning your back to him. “Just take it. I'm not in the mood with arguing with you today, Atsumu.”

“What even is this?” He scrutinizes the plate. It smells good, yes, but it's unfamiliar to his palette. “You've never made me this before.”

You've made your way back to the kitchen by now, fixing yourself a plate of oxtail, rice and peas, with a side of coleslaw. When Atsumu had called you, evidently in a desperate time of need, you were cooking yourself dinner. Typically, you made enough for yourself to last for two to three days, but now looking in the pot, the two bumps of meat will barely count for a heart serving for tomorrow. Nonetheless, you don't feel any resentment or anger.

“Try it,” you don't elaborate any further, voicing from the kitchen. If you know Atsumu as well as you think you do, you know it'll fit well with his taste buds. “I think you'll like it.”

He's skeptical, watching you make a beeline back to the living room area and taking a seat close to him. He watches you eat. You're using your hands to pick up the bone, sucking the meat off before spooning a good ball of rice into your mouth. You seem to enjoy it. Of course, you do. Your cooking is amazing, Atsumu thinks to himself, finally picking up his fork and shoving a ton of food into his mouth.

“Fuck,” he curses the moment they hit his taste buds, nearly choking on his food. He's made sure to have a bit of everything. His eyes go wide as he chews further. “This’s so good.”

“I know right,” you agree in delight. Your cheeks rise in happiness as you've shared a bit of your own culture with him. Ever since moving to Japan, you’ve indulged in their cuisines, trying to get acclimated in a different environment and their different tastes. As time had passed, you had grown so accustomed that you find yourself relying on what you’ve learned rather than where you come from.

When November hit, a rush of emotions washed over you as you remembered back home. The calendar marks down November 28th, 2024, and while it's not Thanksgiving in America yet, it is for you. You make a mental note to call your mom when you can. You miss her— you miss your family. “One of my favorite dishes. My mom makes it the best, though.”

“No, this is so fuckin’ good,” Atsumu praises your cooking, telling you countless times before that you cook better than his brother. You always rolled your eyes at his flattery, never taking him seriously when he was. “Why haven't ya made this for me before?”

You shrugged, not really having an explanation for it. “Didn't know if you'd like it or not.”

A long silence traverses the living room, the only sounds that can be heard is the clinking of the fork against the plate and the television playing. It's a comfortable silence that has Atsumu’s mind falling into a deep abyss. He was early in his career of going pro in volleyball. He had been working to become the best, training everyday and straining his body in hopes to become unstoppable. He wanted to become a force no one dared to stop, but in the midst of it all and the voices telling him to stop overworking himself, his body crashed before he reached any heights.

The news had already come out about it, spectacles and the internet were all talking about it. They deemed him as a cocky amateur just like the others who threw away their career doing the same thing or something far more stupid. They were betting that by the time he was back to his feet, the world would forget about him and he was starting to believe that it was going to be true.

He didn't realize that he was crying, and when he did. It became worse. He couldn't hide his pathetic sobs, trying to suck them in, but your eyes were on him in a second. “A-Atsumu…”

Your plate was empty, leaving the bones bare and a few specks of rice on your plate. He still had a handful of food left. You took his plate away from him, setting it down on the coffee table before inching closer to him. Your close proximity was a comfort, the hand you placed on his back— a muscular one that flexed as he shoved his face in his hands— was the catalyst to him further breaking down.

“I fucked everything up,” he sobbed, his body starting to tremble. “I ruined everything for myself.”

“You couldn't have known,” your voice is low and soft, trying to comfort the man as you rub circles down his back. Your next arm goes to pull him for a hug. He doesn't reciprocate, keeping his head in his hands as you lean your head against his shoulder. You've never seen him like this, so distraught— not since Osamu said he wouldn't be joining him. “No one could've… Don't beat yourself up—”

“But that's exactly what I did!” He exclaims, sitting himself and pushing you off him as a result. You straighten your posture as you let him go on. He needs this. He needs to vent it all out. “After being told not to. After pushing myself so hard that I… that I have to go on rest. God knows when it'll heal and if it does, I'll be long forgotten. Everything— all my plans ruined and down the drain. I'll be nothing.”

“You won't be nothing,” you scoff at him chastising himself, crossing your arms. “You'll be something— someone.”

“That's the problem,” he thinks back to the reporters. How they'll say that just like the rest of the amateurs that got ahead of themselves. By the time he's ready to go back on the court, the crowd will forget him and he'll be lost in the wind. He’ll just be a speck of dust, a man that used to have the potential to be more. “I'll just be someone. Someone somebody knew, someone worth forgetting, resulting back into nothing. I'll be a nobody.”

“You're talking nonsense!” You snort. “Is it so important to you that you have to make it? Does everyone have to know your name? Is it so bad to have a silent life?”

“I want to have an impact on the world,” he says, finally calming down. His head turns to you, his brown eyes staring into yours. They're bloodshot from the tears, but neither of you could care at this moment. “I can't do that if no one can hear my voice. The loudest are the most prominent.”

“That's not true,” you shake your head. “The people that make this world turn are truly the ones you've never seen. Their silence is truly the loudest.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, whatever—”

“Are you saying that I'm a nobody because I choose to live a simple life?” You raise your voice, starting to get annoyed with Atsumu's stubbornness. You understand that he just pushed to the sidelines, that after putting so much work, he's back at square one. But he has to understand that it's not only his way. He’s unknowingly proving his fears right by staying so close-minded. “Are you saying your brother decided to waste his life by not pursuing volleyball?”

“No! You know that's not what I meant!” He tried to clarify, not liking the heat you threw him under. “I'm just saying that living a quiet life is boring. It's not for me. I had a once in a lifetime opportunity and I immediately blew it the moment it got into my hands.”

“But you don't have to live a quiet life.” Your eyes softening as your voice is barely above a whisper. You take his hands, shaking them to snap some sense into him. You've always tried taking an optimistic approach to things, having been through enough turmoil and shit to where you are today. You fear that without the obstacles in life, you’d never had made it to Japan.

Atsumu has so much potential. He always have— a driven man that you’ve come to adore despite how he can be an asshole at times because of it. Once he's set his mind on something, he's going to take it. However, there's never one path to everything. There's multiple approaches, and hopefully, you can inspire him to take another one. “You can heal and get better, work towards getting back on your feet and if your physical therapist gives you the okay, you can go back playing volleyball. People will see you as an inspiration for overcoming adversities, but crying on your ass will get you nowhere.”

You met Atsumu in high school, where you were an exchange student after being given the opportunity to study abroad. Your host sister has invited you— or more like forced you— to a volleyball game. You've never been one to be invested in sports, but everyone seemed to be raving about this particular game, so you tried your best to pay attention.

It was Inarizaki versus Karasuno, and the game was going well, until the blonde setter from your school called for complete silence from everyone on the court and up in the stadiums. You were in disbelief, scoffing at how much of an asshole, he was being. Who did he think he was for telling everyone to be silent like he owned the place? But your host sister begged you not to make a sound and she was the only reason you didn't antagonize Atsumu at the time, because boy, did you want to make a sound. Why was everyone bowing down to a jackass?

You were shown why the moment Inarizaki made a point not too long after, but despite the small impression it made, you still thought of him an ass.

Not too long after did you realize that you shared a couple of classes together. You never realized that in Japanese Literature, he sat right in front of you. You must've been so oblivious and in your own world to not realize this sooner.

What finally brought the two of you together was a presentation that the teacher paired the two of you up for that you both became friends. A friendship that started with constant bickering like an old married couple turned into you possessing something that Atsumu deemed worthy— your cooking. It's something that you and Osamu bonded well over, even him himself believing that you're the better cook. And it's something that Atsumu's come to adore about you, you cooked like your plates could heal the world. And in some way, you did.

Shortly after graduating high school, Atsumu and Osamu both wanted to keep in contact with you, and Atsumu sought you out for more than your culinary talents. And somewhere along the way, you've managed to develop feelings for him. Something you deemed as unfortunate.

“And even if you can't go back on the court, find a career that's just as loud,” you speak with passion. “Find a way to impact other people's lives. There are different paths out there for everybody and while this might seem like a curse now, in the long run, I know the world will come back to bless you.

“I didn't fall in love with a brat who cried the moment things fell awry. I fell for the boy who I saw kept pushing despite it all. Now stop being a little bitch.”

You don't realize what you've said, chest rising and falling asleep you haven't taken a breath in between your small rant. To see the man you love succumbing to an obstacle, a change of course, it invoked a heavy fire within you. When you look back into Atsumu's eyes, you think he's staring at you widely because he finally took something important from all that verbal mess. And he did, just not what you expected.

“You— you love me?”

“What?” You face falls, eyes widening as you're trying to back track and find out how he took that from what you were saying. Not remembering your small confession through the midst of it all. “What are you talking about?”

“You just said you loved me!” He points at you, voice raising.

“No— no, I didn't! I—” You shake your head immediately, so hard it starts hurting right after.

“I love ya, too!” He blurts, the confession falling right off his lips. It feels like a weight being lifted off of his chest. It just seemed right, something that he, too, was holding dear to his chest.

“Atsumu, I—” You croak, voice cracking at the reciprocated confession. Everything falls silent until Atsumu's pulling you closer to him. Both of you now chest to chest.

He pulls you in for a kiss, eyes becoming starry once he pulls away. “I love you, too.”

[yall-batman-fanfic]

Opening Up | Damian Wayne/Robin & Reader!Magician [Fluff]

Synopsis: Based off of Wayne Family Adventures on Webtoon Ep 23 - 24.

How do you make friends? 

The question has been one of the most difficult questions to ask, even as an adult. Vivian often thought about how she made friends as a kid, looking back she remembered she didn't have friends in her childhood since she and her mom often moved from place to place before settling in Liverpool. As a teenager, Vivian would rather avoid that question, she didn't want any of her kids to find out the truth on how she made friends at all. 

As an adult, it just clicks. Vivian was an introvert, no one in the family would agree to it but she was, and to prove it Veronica Vreeland was the very example on how much of an introvert Vivian was. Whenever they told the story on how they became friends, Ronie would just say: “I basically adopted her to be my friend. Just like how I adopted Bruce. We extroverts have a tendency to do that.”

So when Bruce told her about the certain issue that's been bothering Damian at school, she wasn't sure how to answer and help him at all. Then here she was, in the living room with Jason, Duke, Steph, and the father and son, in this impromptu family meeting. Well, it was them who barged into the living room where she and Jason were reading — he was reading Austen, and she Dostoyevski.

“My teacher said I should try to make more friends at school. Apparently, the other students find me intimidating,” Damian explained. “Which is absurd.”

“Really, how?” Jason asked, but his tone showed he didn't care at all. He just wanted this over with so they would leave the space. He's made himself comfortable in his spot! And it was his and Vivian's reading time. They rarely have that anymore with him heading off to jobs that take him out of the country.

“How about try finding common interests with people. I mean, what kind of stuff do you like?” Steph started.

“Swords,” Damian answered.

“Maybe something less stabby?” Duke chuckled.

“Or something that would get me and your father in trouble or you in juvi,” Vivian added.

“I've always been intrigued by world domination,” Damian followed up.

Jason snorted.

Vivian pinched him to stop. Scootching closer to Damian she had the boy under her arm and asked, “What about animals?” 

“Yes, animals are nice,” Damian petted Titus' head.

“Let's go with that,” said Bruce.

“Is there some pet-loving group in school?” Vivian asked. “Not sure anymore.”

“How about joining a team or club?” Duke offered.

“Tennis,” Damian suggested.

“I didn't know you liked tennis!” Bruce said, but Vivian held her hand up to ease his shock, and she asked Damian, “Why tennis? What happened?”

“Trevor Lawford on the tennis team said something that was insulting about Father and Mom. I have been training to destroy him on the court.”

“Honestly, I respect it,” said Stephanie.

“Let's stay away from the tennis court, alright?” Bruce chuckled.

“But we do appreciate it, sweetheart,” Vivian squeezed him to an embrace. Jason groaned when he heard her call Damian that nickname. It still pisses him off. Damian was far from sweet.

“Jason, do you have any suggestions for Damian?” Bruce turned to the silent one in the room.

“I broke my best friend out of prison,” said Jason.

“Not exactly helpful in this context.”

“Whatever. Why not ask the most extroverted one in this room?” He returned to his book.

“Who?” Duke asked.

“Ma.”

“Seriously?” Vivian glared at him.

Jason smirked, knowing full well about her rebellious teenage years. “Yeah, I mean, compared to all of us you're the one who goes to brunches and shopping with Veronica Vreeland or Lois Lane. You're probably the most extroverted one here.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Well?” Damian asked her.

Vivian sighed. “I don't know. Never had childhood friends growing up since I moved from place to place. Then in high school… how I made friends… I don't know, we just cut class, played with the OUIJA board, and hid at the back of campus to smoke po…” she caught herself before she could finish that statement. 

Looking at everyone, Duke, Steph, and Jason were snickering, Damian was confused, while Bruce looked at her with wide eyes. 

“Smoking what?” Damian asked her with narrow eyes.

“Yeah, Ma, what were you smoking?” Jason teased.

“Candle wax?” Vivian smiled sheepishly. “You all know that I went through that occult, dark magic, and demon hunting phase, right?”

“More than ten years of marriage and there's still things that surprise me,” Bruce said to her. “I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not.”

“It is. I mean, that's how we were sure that none of the boys ever brought it in the manor,” Vivian pointed out. “I haven't even touched one since uni.”

“That wasn't legal until 2021,” Stephanie pointed out.

“What was?!” Damian asked them.

“To be continued later,” said Bruce. 

“Well, this has been unhelpful,” Damian muttered.

“You're going to be fine, Damian. Just trust your instincts.”

~*~

Vivian was at the faculty office when she received got a call from Damian. Answering it, Damian spoke loudly that had her pulling her phone away: “Mom, I need an extraction!”

Many of her colleagues turned to her with the sudden loud call, and Vivian apologized to them and asked Damian, “From school? Why? Is everything okay, sweety?” She was already packing her things to get to Gotham Academy.

“I think I'm sick.”

Vivian paused with her packing. The good old, ‘I think I'm sick’ bit. “Describe your symptoms.”

“Sweaty palms. Elevated heart rate. Stomach palpitations.”

Vivian sighed. “You're not sick, Damian. You're just nervous.”

“Am not!”

She laughed. “You are.”

“It's your fault for giving terrible advice! What am I going to have in common with people? I was raised by assassins!”

Oh, right. She forgot about that.

“Okay, I'll head over now,” Vivian got up from her seat and got her bag. “I'll just send an email to my students about class being a study session for now. Can you wait for me until I get there?”

Damian was silent for a while before he answered. “Yes… are you disappointed in me?”

“Damian, of course not!” Vivian was already walking down the hall. “You're new to this, and it's okay to be scared. It's also my fault because you've been doing so well with everyone in the manor that I forgot that it's different with people who aren't in that circle. We can do this one step at a time if you want. I'll be there shortly, sweety.”

“What are you going to tell my teachers?” His voice sounded defeated.

“That my son isn't feeling so well today and he need to go home so I could snuggle with him,” Vivian teased.

“I don't need to be coddled.”

“I know, but I like it when we sit in the couch and watch movies. Don't you?”

“I guess… thanks, Mom.”

“No problem, love. Now, head back to class, I'm on my way.”

~*~

Vivian arrived at Gotham Academy almost thirty minutes later with the traffic she faced. Entering the school, she was greeted by one of the staff there who knew her very well — who wouldn't at this point, first Dick, then Jason, then Tim, and now Damian. When they got to Damian's classroom, she asked to see the teacher inside, but just as Damian's teacher was going to head out to meet her, Damian jumped and ran out to her instead.

“I'll talk to her!” Damian said and pushed Vivian elsewhere in the hall. “Abort mission!” He whispered.

“What do you mean?” Vivian asked as soon as they were far from his classroom and listening ears. “Damian, what's wrong?”

“I…I… uh… I met someone and I promised her that I'll meet with her and her club later,” Damian said, with his head bowed down. Not able to look at Vivian at all. She did just leave work to get him out of a situation he wasn't comfortable with. Now he was backing out.

“You made a friend?” Vivian smiled.

“I guess you can say that.”

Vivian sat on the ground with her back against the lockers. The receptionist who brought her there called out that they could offer a chair but Vivian waved them off and asked to give them some privacy for a minute.

“So, what's this club?” Vivian asked Damian.

Damian followed her lead and sat on the ground but this time in front of her. “Art. It's the art club. She saw my sketches earlier and invited me to see the club.”

“Are you going to join?”

Damian shrugged.

“Good job, sweetheart,” Vivian messed with his hair. “I'm so proud of you.”

Damian looked up at her and asked, “You're not mad that I made you leave work?”

“Of course, not! My son needed me. You will always come first, alright?”

“Thanks, Mom,” Damian smiled.

“Okay, you better head back to class. And I’ll probably head to your Father and annoy him for the remainder of the day,” Vivian got up and pulled Damian to his feet. “Should I tell Alfred to pick you up a little later?”

“Grayson is picking me up… I already told him.”

“Okay… do you want me to walk you back or will it ruin your cool reputation if I did?”

“You can walk me back.”

“No two steps behind?”

“Why?”

Vivian shrugged. “Dick always make me walk two steps behind.”

“Grayson's an idiot.”

“Let's go.”

Walking Damian back to his classroom, Vivian explained to his teacher that it was just an false alarm she got from him. After he was settled, Vivian waved goodbye to Damian and left his school.

~*~

“Tell me again why we're going to the mall at this hour?” Bruce asked his wife as he drove the car. She arrived at Wayne Enterprise and asked if he was busy. When he said he had his meetings moved at a later date, she told him to pack his things and that they needed to get supplies now. 

“Damian made a friend,” she told him.

“I don't understand how that connects to all this. But I'm happy that he did… this friend, though… is it mutual or a hostage-situation?”

“Mutual. In fact she invited him to see her club.”

“Oh, that's nice to hear. What club is it?”

“Art club. Did you know that your son likes to draw?”

“No, I didn't.”

“Nor did I. I was thinking of getting him some supplies, he did a good job today and I just want to congratulate him.”

Bruce smiled. Reaching out, he held her hand and squeezed it. “You're spoiling him.”

“I just want to give him a normal childhood. Or at least let him have a taste of a normal childhood… I forgot that he was raised by assassins and that everything about normalcy isn't exactly normal to him. I felt bad that I didn't take him seriously when he asked for help about making friends. With Dick, Jason, and Tim they knew how to do all of that, with Damian it's the complete opposite.”

“I know… but we're only getting him art supplies, not an OUIJA board or that thing you smoked,” Bruce teased.

“Of course!” Vivian stuck her tongue out at him. “I already have an OUIJA board in the attic anyway.”

“Viv.”

“It'll be a good game for when he hosts sleepovers!”

“I doubt Damian would do such a thing.”

“Oh, at least let him take a night off as Robin!”

“Tell him that.”

[fleshdyk3]

god i fucking hate my dad

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[penisbilt]

the bittersweet but absolute flood of relief that comes from admitting defeat at living independently, to have to move back in with parents. we tried! we gave it our best shot for almost 3 years! but living like this (being on our own) is just not possible for us at this time of our lives. we've finally proved it to ourselves that we can't do it. it'll be okay to let ourselves rest now

[txicgf]

i miss when i got a full uninterrupted sleep daily

[readymades2002]

if i might bitch about work for a second: yesterday was hellishly bad despite being able to keep up with it and i found out that apparently our department made 4600 dollars yesterday which is making me angry beyond belieffffffff

[absolutelyzoned]

its me and my inability to compromise against the world

[steviescrystals]

i seriously need to get a new job and start making money again asap bc i cannot keep living at home much longer it’s driving me insane

(wrote an entire essay in the tags without meaning to oops)

[screamingay]

somehow these current roommates we have are the worst that ive known yet and last semester we literally had a girl who smoked cigs IN her bedroom. list of grievances below lol