#para: come with me now

[realmackross]

PARTIES: @lukas-dark-miracles @realmackross TIMING: Sunday, July 9th SUMMARY: Mack finds a flyer for one of Lukas' groups and decides to check it out. WARNINGS: None!

The group was still in its infancy, so it was important for Lukas to be careful who came through the doors of the currently unnamed self help group. So he carefully greeted everyone and tried to get to know each of them by name and a few facts. Some facts were easily gotten, and some involved him looking into people after they had left. Luckily, while technology had certainly got more advanced and language became stranger he was still able to look up people easily enough.  

Still, while he was careful it wasn’t to the other’s demise. Nothing in the group would suddenly drop. He wasn’t looking to hurt anyone, but Lukas did know that for the group to succeed he would need to carefully and gently remove people that did not want to take the next steps towards the dark. After all, they still had a purpose but not here. 

So smiling he greeted the other carefully and said, “Hello. I’m Lukas. Are you here for the meeting?” Part of him was waiting for enough information to look the other up if he needed too. 

__

So much had happened to Mackenzie since she had arrived in Wicked’s Rest. More than she would have liked to admit. The latest debacle seemed to be getting her name stolen by something that didn’t even seem real. A slimy little creature of a man that she had never actually met in person and prayed she never would. But in order to do it, she had to give up something else; something of importance that she just couldn’t recall. But she had her identity back, and that’s what had mattered most.

Unfortunately, being Mackenzie again, and not Llama, meant facing all the things she had done. It just wasn’t going to be easy, and it wasn’t going to be soon. But baby steps. And if that meant her vaguely talking with other people about life then so be it. She had done group stuff before. Table reads. Meet & greets. It’s just that none of these things were ever “hit you deep in the heart” personal with the consequence that life could be over in the blink of an eye.

Letting out a soft sigh, Mackenzie nervously held onto the crumpled flyer she had found in town. Was this the right place? There seemed to be a small group of people entering and there was someone moving towards her with a smile on his face, “Uh, I think so.” He seemed nice enough, though she still couldn’t help, but look around anxiously. Did she really want to do this? Would these people know who she was? Speaking of, “Oh, um, sorry. I never introduced myself. I’m Mackenzie.” Sticking out the hand that was free, she waited to shake his.

__

Lukas was used to nervous people. Most were when they entered a new place, and while this wasn’t a holy site at all, it was full of people and the things they wanted to run from. It was one of the reasons why he wanted to make a group after all, to find the people that were running away from something - darkness, the shadow, whatever you wanted to call it. So, he wasn’t at all perturbed with how nervous the younger seemed to be. 

Looking at the flyer in her hand, Lukas nodded, “I think you are, if you're here for the group.” Shaking her hand carefully, knowing now that people noticed how cold it was he had put the air down in the room to feign that he was just cold from that, he said, “Nice to meet you Mackenzie. The meeting won’t start for a little while, so if you want to ask any questions please feel free too. I know it can be nerve wracking to join a new group.” 

His smile stayed on his face although turned a little more thoughtful when he thought about how she might be uncomfortable. With her first name it wasn’t much, but if they continued to talk he might get more information just in case. “I can answer most anything, but I do promise if I can’t I won’t say that I can,” Lukas said with a bit of a chuckle.  _ 

She shook his hand with a firm, but somewhat shaky grip. It was odd not really being able to feel if people’s hands were warm or cold, sweaty or dry anymore. Mackenzie’s seemed to match his in being permanently cold. But she didn’t think anything of it. How could she when she couldn’t really make out what sensation she was feeling, “It’s nice to meet you too, Lukas.” Though she didn’t feel much more at ease, she had taken the first step and that was actually introducing herself.

Mackenzie had set her eyes amidst the chairs slowly starting to fill up, before looking back to Lukas, “What kind of group is this exactly?” Was this the right move for her? Maybe seeing someone in private would have been better. She did see a therapist back home after the stalker incident, and it helped. But Wicked’s Rest was a different breed already and with it being a group, maybe it meant she could learn more about her illness - zombism. She just wouldn’t ever admit that she was actually one. But maybe someone else would.

“I appreciate your honesty. I’m finding this town has a lot of liars in it, so sometimes it’s hard to distinguish who's actually being honest with me, and who isn’t.” Even Hollywood was full of liars, but this was a different breed.

_

Lukas didn’t think much of the other’s handshake either, although he did note it didn’t feel particularly warm. Maybe he should turn the air conditioner up a little bit to not freeze out the others here. 

He was used to that question by now, and carefully he had an answer that had happened quite organically after probing people on what they wanted in a group. It was actually pretty easy to cultivate a sense of belonging when you’re thinking of why others might feel alone. “This is a general support group,” Lukas responded, looking to some of the others who filled the room. “Honestly, it is pretty frustratingly vague, but that’s a bit on purpose. We’re trying to build a community in Wicked’s Rest where people feel heard and seen. So this is somewhat a place where people can meet each other and build relationships, to see if there’s anything that might need a group effort to complete - like Rosie over there is starting a community garden and is getting volunteers to help get that started if your interested-” Lukas said looking at the older woman who he was pretty sure was just lonely and genuinely wanted to connect with people, waving a little to her. Continuing he said, “ and generally get and give advice on things that might be bothering people in a comfortable environment. Of course we aren’t a replacement for therapy or anything of the like - but it can be nice to get to know your neighbors.” 

At her statement Lukas chuckled and replied, “I appreciate that. I try not to lie as a rule.” Which was true - or at least true enough. Anything could be the truth if enough people believed in it  after all. “Although I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been dealing with liars. Is someone bothering you?” His face turned a little serious at the thought. 

_

The vagueness spiked a red flag at first, until he explained that it was a get to know your neighbors and connect group. Mackenzie had felt like she was stepping back in time. Was this what it was like living a normal life and one that wasn’t in the spotlight? Could you actually participate in things like a community garden without there being some other motive to it? She glanced over to Rosie with a soft, sad smile. The lady looked friendly enough. Like she wasn’t about to bite anyone’s head off or steal their name.

Mackenzie looked back to Lukas, “This doesn’t sound quite as scary as I thought it would. Do you have a lot of people who come to these things?” She glanced back down at the flyer in her hands. She had already read it hundreds of times, but what could hurt if she read it one or two or ten more times, especially when he asked her if someone was bothering her. Except in Mackenzie’s mind, she had heard the word something, instead of someone.

How was Mackenzie supposed to reply to that? Something had definitely been bothering her. She had eaten her fiance. She had consumed the brains and bodies of others. She grew up living her life in the spotlight, and now she was having to do a complete 180 and pray that no one would ever find out where she was or suspect what she was. She was lonely. She was scared. And most days her mental health lived so far in the gutter that even the rats and mice wouldn’t dare venture into that darkness.

So yeah, something was bothering Mackenzie. A lot of things had been bothering her, but she wasn’t about to tell him or any of these remotely normal looking people walking through the door smiling and excited to be meeting once more with the neighbors they had probably grown up with, “Uh, no. Not anymore, I took care of it.” It was a vague answer, and one that had sounded remotely threatening in nature, but she definitely didn’t mean it like that, especially after mishearing his original question.

_

Lukas gave a soft smile at the admittance that it didn’t sound too scary, and said, “I hope it’s not. We do get a good amount of people I think - although I don’t really keep talleys. It’s a pretty new group, and not everyone can make it to every meeting, but I’d say we get 20 regular participants - not including myself.” After all, in this instance he didn’t really count. 

At her reaction to his question, Lukas tilted his head not really understanding the connection that she had. It was vaguely threatening and he could tell that some of the others in the room looked over at Mackenzie worried at the statement. He could feel their eyes glancing back at him, and after a moment he gave a soft smile and said, “I’m glad that you resolved that problem then. I know I’ve had some problems with people being unsettling to me. - When setting up this group I had to deal with a number of people and deal with them too. I’m sorry you had to deal with that, and hopefully if someone bothers you again we can all deal with them together by helping them correct their behavior. It’s awfully hard to do it by yourself, and brave.” 

With that, he had smoothed over the stares, and turned the eyes around them either neutral or compassionate depending. It was a skill, but it wasn’t a hard one to do in a group like this. Still, Lukas was curious though, why she looked so bothered by something and unwilling to speak on it. He wanted more information, and to do that he needed to keep the peace. “Still, please let me know if there’s anything that would make you more comfortable. One of the only rules here is that everyone is treated with respect and dignity.” 

__

Twenty people was quite a bit. Definitely not as big as some of the groups she’d dealt with in her career, but in a new town with no familiar faces and all eyes on her, it seemed daunting. And the more she thought about it, the more squirrely she became, but she couldn’t let him see that. Fake it, til you make it. Playing a role was something she was familiar with, and now looking back on it, she had wished she had created some kind of character to come in as, instead of as Mackenzie Ross: Former actress turned zombie trying to figure out her undead life.

It was the “all eyes on her” moment that really had her questioning things now. Had they suspected something based on what she had said? Or did someone finally recognize her and start spreading her name around? She couldn’t quite tell, and when she tried to focus back on Lukas, her mind raced to the worst possible scenario. But somehow his words of taking care of this so-called person together and not alone made way for some comfort. It had been so long since Mackenzie had truly felt safe anywhere, and even though it didn’t feel like it quite so much right now, this community group was starting to become slightly more appealing. Maybe it was the way he spoke, but there seemed to be a certain truth to it that she couldn’t quite put her cold-dead finger on, “Uh, thanks. Really, it’s nothing though. I solved it, and I don’t think he’ll be bothering me again.”

That innate feeling that people weren’t looking at her anymore and had gone back to their own business seemed to give Mackenzie some comfort, even though she still stammered, when she spoke, “Just…um, well I’m a very private person, because of the job I do, so I’d appreciate it, if anyone recognizes me at any point, that they don’t ask me personal questions…” Why was she feeling so comfortable with this guy? It felt like she was walking into the lion’s den for supper, and she was the meal.

_

Lukas could tell that there was some sort of conflict in the younger, although on what he could only guess at this point. Still, he didn’t think that there was anything there that would be against what the group would be eventually. Besides, if it turned out she was good then he could still help her - at least for a little while as he gently nudged her back to the light. If she was meant for the dark instead - well then she would be well suited here. 

“No worries at all,” Lukas said with a small nod, noticing that she had said it was a person. Still, he didn’t pry. He wanted more information but he didn’t want to cause Mackenzie pain. It was likely if she continued the group that she would open up more and they could resolve anything that might be left on the table. “I’m just glad you were able to do that.”

At her stammering Lukas listened carefully and seemed to connect something although he didn’t let it show on his face. After all, there were very few reasons someone would be that private and also worried about questions. She had to be famous in some way - infamous or otherwise. Still, he nodded and said, “Sure. I mean, I can’t promise anyone won’t ask questions at all, but you can be as anonymous as you want to be. Many people don’t share much about their personal lives, and I’m sure everyone here respects privacy, and certainly if anyone is asking something invasive please come find me and I’ll talk to them. That’s certainly not appropriate here.- You don’t even have to give a last name if you don’t wish to.” After all, Lukas knew enough now he could find her if he wanted and see if she would be a danger.

 Most of the others were now just quietly talking among themselves about their own little projects and things, now assured that Mackenzie wasn’t someone to fear. The group after all was mostly informal, just something to pass the time and reach out to others. It hardly mattered who joined as long as they were respectful - something that Lukas was careful to help nurture. It was mostly out of habit but it would help in the future as well. “Are there any other questions that you might have?” 

_

Mackenzie was starting to feel a little more at ease. Lukas seemed to answer any and all questions she had and had even been willing to stick up for her despite not knowing anything about her. Well, unless he followed her on social media or had watched any of her movies. And even though she had been nervous about the group when it was all eyes on her, the way they simply went back to their own little conversations gave her peace, “Thanks. You guys meet at the same time every week right?” The flyer remained tight in her grip, but she didn’t seem to be fooling with it as much.

She still wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to join. But Mackenzie was trying her best to branch out. She wanted to make more friends. She was already on her way, but she had met most of them, ironically, through bad experiences. And she couldn’t help but wonder if they had just been friends with her out of pity, or worse, because of who she was…No. She refused to let her mind go there. Paranoia was something that could easily settle in her brain, if she let it, and that’s not something she needed to deal with on top of everything else.

Giving the room one last scan with each of the people sitting there happily discussing things, Mackenzie felt the slight urge of just wanting to belong again creeping up in her. She had always belonged. It was just second nature to her. Like breathing air, but isolation and the things she had done made it feel as though she no longer mattered, and that was one of the hardest things she was having to accept about her so-called new life, “Can I think about it? I just…I’m still trying to figure out some things, and honestly, if I’m even going to be in Wicked’s Rest that long.” She bit at her bottom lip, nerves starting to come back over her, for whatever reason; a confidence, she once faced the world with, shoved down deep inside of her trying to claw its way back to the surface, before being suffocated out for good.

_

At the question Lukas nodded slightly seeing that the other seemed at least a bit more comfortable with the group. It was good to see. “Yes, we meet every week at this time. If it ever changes we’d let everyone know.” 

Lukas was good at reading when people were wavering between choices. It was something that a Holy man should know especially with people in his flock. Knowing where people faltered was necessary if you were going to lead them. So, he wasn’t entirely surprised to see Mackenzie waiver. Whatever she seemed to be worried about coming out seemed to weigh heavily on her. So, Lukas backed off a little. After all, them making the choice was most of the actual battle. 

“Of course, there’s no formal joining process or anything like that.” Lukas said with a gentle smile. “If you want to come by please feel free too, and if you do not wish to, that’s fine too. It also doesn’t matter very much if you don’t think you’ll be here long or not. If I can ever be of help though, please let me know.” 

_

Knowing that this wouldn’t be a missed opportunity if she wanted to take him up on the offer made Mackenzie feel a little more at ease. It wasn’t like she had to decide today, and that was nice. She had been pressured into way too much growing up because of the community she was a part of, and ultimately it had gotten her killed. But this felt different, and she could appreciate that.

“Thanks. I really appreciate your time. I just saw the flyers around and thought I might check it out.” Mackenzie gave the group one last look, before turning her attention back on Lukas, “And I will.” She wasn’t sure if she was that comfortable yet. Life in the spotlight meant not trusting people as easily, including the ones who genuinely seemed to want to help, “Well, I’ll get out of the way, so you can start your group.” She motioned back to the door. With a small, but warm smile, Mackenzie gave one last look to the man standing in front of her, before taking her leave. It was a lot to think about, but at least it was a start to something that felt somewhat normal, and maybe pretending that life was normal was something she needed.

[littlestormofmess]

let's see if i run into any argentinian phannies tomorrow on my first artist alley !

[sweetbouquetartisane]

Feliz 7mo aniversario a uno de los partidos más caóticos de la historia: un récord mundial de 19 tarjetas amarillas

not pictured:

walter samuel 31' 🇦🇷 coaching staff

lionel scaloni 90' 🇦🇷 manager

nicolas otamendi 90+12'

denzel dumfries 128'PK shootout

denzel dumfries 129' red card

noa lang 129'PK shooutout

[damthosefandoms]

finally reached that point in the year where I keep going “three more days. two more days. just two more days.” and it’s not even fair because Thursday is barely actually a day off

[blue-madd]

Who needs sleep when you can just daydream of your parame getting another homicidal biological kid who wants to murder him because their evil father (aka our paravain) taught them shit ?

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Do you ever listen to someone speak and marvel at how smooth, free-flowing, and free of pauses it is?

Because I sure do. I can’t do that.

Maybe that’s why I feel like most people’s speech is insincere even when it isn’t… because it sounds like how I would recite or read a script. That explains why I view people who aren’t native English speakers, have a heavy accent, and take long pauses to think of the words they need to say as being more trustworthy… because my cadence is similar to theirs; and we both stumble over words.

[f1amour]

「 ✦ F1 GRID — LETS GET PHYSICAL

˖ ࣪ 𖥔 navigation. | requests — open | main masterlist (coming soon)

drivers included | max verstappen, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, oscar piastri, daniel ricciardo, franco colapinto, lewis hamilton

description | drivers and their favorite kinks

content warnings | mature content ahead — 18+ only, minors do not interact

authors note | hope everyone enjoys reading this one! if you have any requests for drabbles or blurbs involving those i write for please send it in and i will try to get it out as soon as possible <3 *not spelled checked*

─────────────────────────

— 𝐌𝐀𝐗 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍 ¹

҉ PRAISE KINK !

— whether he praised you or you praised him; max verstappen was an absolute whore for praising

— both in public and behind closed doors he would take the praises only from you. being a three time world champion as many reminded him of his accomplishments he’d down play it. but you? oh he loved when you’d sing his praises

— “you did so great out there, maxie. no one does it like you.” praising him in public after a great race would look like that. behind closed doors was another story; “right there, max. fuck you’re doing so well keep going.” “only you know my body, no one compares”

— on the other hand max loved praising you and he was an absolute menace for it when he’d have you bent over the bed fucking you with his hands gripping your hair; “come on, baby. squeezing me so tight you love being handled like this, hmm?” “you’re doing so well for me, baby.” “such a good girl for me.”

҉ QUICKIES !

— max loved taking his time with you but with his busy schedule especially on race weekends he couldn’t give you enough time. however, he always made the most of the 10-20 minutes you had together on any occasion.

— whether it be 10 minutes before he’s gotta go out for the national anthem or 15 minutes before he is due to attend the press conference he would grab you and take you in any room that had a lock. “fuck that’s it, you’re doing so good for me baby.” “gonna have you cum three times before i gotta be out there in ten minutes. you like that?”

— 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐙 ⁵⁵

҉ HAIR PULLING KINK !

— the man has beautiful hair…how can he not have a hair pulling kink?

— carlos loved pulling your hair whether it was while you rode his cock or he was taking you from behind; he loved having his hands in your hair

— but it was when you pull his hair that really gets him going both intimately but whenever you’d be watching a movie or out with friends your hand would go to the nape of his neck and travel up to his hair giving it a soft tug

— between your legs carlos is eating you out both sloppily and hungrily, tongue against your aching core his fingers now at your entrance giving you extra pleasure when they’re stretching you out, “fuck. just like that carlos,” you tangle your fingers in his hair giving it a rough tug when he rubs his thumb on your clit

— every thrust his fingers would give your cunt and tongue giving your folds so much attention you’d tug his hair closer to your pussy if that was possible; “fuck, baby, do that again. harder.” “god, hermosa, gonna make me cum in my pants if you keep pulling my hair like that.” “right there, keep doing that princesa. wanna suffocate in your pussy.”

҉ DIRTY TALK !

— his native language being spanish played a role in his love for dirty talking he loved the reaction he’d get out of you when you’d hear him speaking to you in spanish

— morning, noon, night; carlos fucked you any moment he had some free time which was rare but on those occasions he did he make sure to speak his dirty thoughts of you: and to you

— “fuck, my good girl, chokin’ on my cock” “that’s it, hermosa. let them all hear whose fucking your tight pussy…the only man who makes you cum.” “te ves tan perfecta para mí de rodillas llena de mí. mi bella princesa.”

— 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐂 ¹⁶

҉ ORAL !

— charles loved having you on your knees mouth stuffed with his cock. your lips showing his tip some extra love with a few kisses after finishing in your mouth and you’d take him once again pulling him in your mouth again for another round.

— what he loved the most though? spending hours in between your thighs giving you multiple orgasms until you are begging him to stop (very rare to want him to stop)

҉ ROUGH SEX !

— despite seemingly carrying a calm demeanor around friends & family behind closed doors charles loved being rough with you in bed. especially after yet another week where ferrari fucks up his race he feels the best place to let out his stress and anger is on you. which you gladly took.

— rough and sloppy kisses you share entering his hotel room to his rough hands pushing you onto the bed and fucking you with his fingers until you’re squirting all over him and the bedsheets.

— your face pressed down on the mattress while he takes you from behind arching your back and yanking on your hair pulling you close to his chest he’d give you another rough thrush while whispering the most vulgar sentences to come out of his mouth.

— 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒 ⁴

҉ COCKWARMING !

— sometimes being weeks apart from each other you wanted to feel as close as possible while catching up on what you’d miss. you’d get settled on his lap moaning at the feeling of him stretching you after being gone for so long. you’d get comfortable and you would both talk about what you had been up to the last few weeks

— streaming with max you’d make sure his camera was off before you climbed on his lap. he would be confused as to what you were doing but the moment you take his cock out of his briefs and sinking down on him he’d hold his moans in and grab your waist pulling you closer.

- turning his mic off he lets out a whine when you rock your hips against him, “fuck, baby, can’t do this right now i’m so close to winning.” you’d agree with him and tell him to finish the game you’ll just wait for him; still sitting on him with his cock deep inside you. safe to say he lost the game just to play again, enjoying the feeling of his cock resting inside you

҉ SHOWER SEX !

— lando loved it when he’d be showering and you’d join him halfway through giving him some extra attention that he desperately wanted. he loved the intimacy about it when you’d help rinse of the shampoo in his hair or how he’d glide the body gel all over your body

— you loved it when it was a post race win or podium and he’d drag you to the small bathroom in his drivers room and shove you against the shower wall giving your pussy some extra love while you pull on his hair before he would have his cock shoved deep in your aching cunt, getting some loud moans out of you which he’d cover up with a kiss

— 𝐋𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐎𝐍 ⁴⁴

҉ PHONE SEX !

— being a formula 1 driver was a demanding job which required lewis to travel almost all year long and you couldn’t always go along with him due to your job. you missed him all the time when he was gone but especially on the days when you were extra needy were the worst

— that’s why he’d stay on the phone with you all day despite his busy schedule. he’d have one airpod in while having to be in a meeting not listening to the less important subjects so he’d listen to you and what you were doing for the day

— but then on days where your vibrator wasn’t enough you’d call or facetime your boyfriend begging him to help you through your orgasm, it also helped that he had the most soothing voice that constantly brought you to tears when he’d have your face shoved on the mattress, ass pressed against him as he fucked you

— “oh…’m so close, lew” you’d whimper through the facetime call, your phone propped against your nightstand while you grind your aching cunt against a pillow. desperately needing more release your reach to rub your clit when lewis’ voice fills the phone, “i didn’t say you could do that, did i?” he questions, he was due to be in the media pen in 10 minutes but he wouldn’t let you take the easy way out to cum before he left

— “please, baby, need to cum please,” you beg lewis as your movements speed up. “don’t use your hand. keep fucking youself on my pillow, i’ll be home in a few days and take such good care of you. that’s it baby, be a good girl and cum for me.” his encouragement is more than enough to have you squeezing your breasts and nipples as your release spills all over the pillow

҉ MIRROR SEX !　

— you weren’t sure if it was you or lewis who decided adding a mirror to the ceiling of your bedroom was the best option for your sex life but either way you were two happy people

— you enjoyed watching lewis fucking you his eyes meeting your through the mirror; he loved having you bounce on his cock watching the way you threw your head back moans filling the room. he loved it so much he requested his drivers room to have a mirror on the ceiling as well. after many warnings not to they finally gave in and gave him what he (and you) wanted

— his hand around your throat with two fingers deep inside your pussy he’d whisper dirty thoughts into your ear, “you look so pretty for me like this. wanna see you cum for me, sweet girl. that’s it you’re squeezing my fingers so good,” you’d bite your lip trying to suppress your moans in the small room knowing anyone walking by could easily hear you

— 𝐎𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈 ⁸¹

҉ DRY HUMPING !　

— again, being a formula one driver was a demanding sport. a demanding sport that kept your sex life with oscar very low many, many, many times. so when you had the chance to feel a little bit closer to your boyfriend you took the chance.

— whether against the wall of his drivers room with your clothed pussy rubbing against his race suit or in bed on his lap before ha has to catch a flight to the next race; you were both absolutely infatuated with each other and dry humping

— drivers room; oscar would be leaned up against the wall while your hips grind against his thigh, “osc,” you whine as he moves your panties to the side rubbing your clit while you con the to fuck yourself on him, “shh, be a good girl for me and stay quiet. then after the race i’ll stuff you full of my cock all night.” his words have you biting down on his shoulder as you cum all over his thigh

҉ SQUIRTING !　

— he had discovered this one night while you both watched a movie, laying between his thighs your head pressed against his chest his hand trailed down to your shorts pulling them off with nothing else underneath he worked his fingers inside you. soon enough you had squirted all over his hand and bedsheets; a first for both of you

— that just started something inside oscar which was wanting to make you squirt any chance he got. you could be exhausted from work or a long flight but you’d let him have his way with you. at the end you’d be filling the room with sounds of pleasure as his fingers or cock fucked your tight cunt until he reached the exact spot that had you squirting all over him

— "so wet for me, and so fuckin' tight." "i can feel how close you are baby, gonna make a mess all over our sheets, hmm?" he praises you, his fingers curling deep inside you. his groans and your moans fill the room as you squirt all over his hand and sheets making a mess like he had said. pulling away from you he now plays between your thighs and smiles up at you, “time to clean this mess up.”

— 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 ⁴³

҉ DIRTY TALK !　

— you’ve seen franco in interviews he was a talker so it wasn’t a surprised he was a talker behind closed doors as well. he had a filthy mouth on him when it came to you and he never stopped praising you

— “eso es amor, apretándome tan bien. let me hear your pretty moans.” “cum all over my cock, amor. fuck, fuck—look so perfect for me.” “gonna let me fuck you against the door? gonna make sir everyone hears what a filthy whore you are.” you’d think by now you’d get tired of his constant yapping (sometimes you did) but when he fucked you? you loved hearing his voice the entire time

҉ ORAL !　

— the man was good with his tongue what more could you say? he was infatuated with having his tongue on your pussy for hours on end tasting how sweet you were. buried between your thighs as your hand stung on his hair, whines and moans escape your mouth begging him for more

— “franco, ‘m so close, right there,” you gasp feeling his tongue poking in your cunt as he devours you, “es todo princesa, déjalo ir por mí. mierda. sabes tan dulce.” you cum and he doesn’t let a drop escape his tongue as he licks you clean

— 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐃�� ³ [retired]

҉ THIGH RIDING !　

— the man had a tattooed thigh…how could you not want to ride it? it first started on a night out with friends enjoying the sunset at the beach when daniel placed you on his lap your hand traced circles on the tattoos that littered his thigh; one thing led to another and you snuck off to the car and he let your imaginations come to life

— at a club filled with loud music and dark lights you’d take advantage of the moment and grind yourself on his thigh enjoying the feeling, at home while he works on sending out some emails you’d keep him company with your core pressing against his thigh, anyplace and anywhere you were a menace for his thighs

— he loved it too, so much he’d started adding some more tattoos to his collection on his thighs which made you even more excited to ride him only to wait until he was healed to do so. you could ride his other thigh but something about fucking yourself on his tattooed thigh felt so so much more enthralling

— “you look so pretty like this, ridin' my thigh...makin' yourself cum.” “make yourself cum on my thigh right now, good girl. feels good, doesn't it?” his encouraging words bringing you to your third orgasm of the night just form riding his thigh, “come on, honey, gonna give me one more then i’ll fuck you for however long you want”

҉ FILMING !

— daniel loved having videos or pictures of the activities you got up to in the bedroom with each other. he loved watching the videos while he was away from you weeks on end. however, he loved it more whenever you got the chance to film each other especially for fun not because he’ll be gone for a few weeks and needed someone to fill the void

— daniel comfortably laying down between your thighs lapping at you like there’s no tomorrow, “danny, feel so good…oh,” you whine trying to hold the camera that was pointed at him steadily but you were so close. “that’s it baby, cum all over me you taste so fucking sweet. could never get enough of this,” he says only getting a second to breathe before he’s diving back between your thighs to bring you to your second orgasm of the night

— you loved the risk of having an album on your phones that were filled of videos and pictures of the two of you or sometimes of just one of you. you’d created a small album curated for daniel filled of pictures of you in lingerie or fully nude; the videos were another story. filled with you fucking yourself with your fingers, vibrator, a pillow; you made sure daniel was fulfilled for the weeks he wouldn’t have you

— daniel made a small photo album for you as well more so filled of the two of you, he knew how much you loved rewatching the videos of you two fucking. you loved the way he propped the camera against the nightstand and had you riding his cock until you begged him to let you cum or the time he fucked you in his drivers room facing the mirror on his door his hands on your breasts squeezing them while you rode him back against his chest holding onto the camera shakily and almost dropping it when he’d thrust up into your cunt

[amirasainz]

Can you please do little reader is daughter of someone and alll the drivers absolutely adore her always carrying her away and cuddling her, taking her off the parent

Enjoy reading and send some requests!

Let me know if you want more Yn Alonso stories.

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

The Princess of Formula 1

The paddock was buzzing with its usual pre-race energy, and while everyone was used to seeing drivers, engineers, and media rushing around, today there was an extra special guest who caught everyone’s eye—Fernando's three-year-old daughter, Yn. She toddled alongside her father, holding his hand tightly, her eyes wide with wonder at all the noise and colors. She was dressed in a mini Aston Martin team shirt, a green cap, and tiny sneakers that made her look absolutely adorable.

Fernando walked confidently with Yn, making his way toward the Aston Martin garage. As he approached, a couple of drivers immediately spotted the little girl and couldn't help but gravitate towards her.

“Hey there, Yn!” Lando exclaimed, squatting down to her level with a huge grin on his face. He reached out a hand, and Yn, curious and already warming up to the friendly face, placed her tiny hand in his.

“Hola, Lando!” Fernando chuckled, ruffling Yn’s hair. “I didn’t expect her to be the center of attention so quickly.”

Lando’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Oh, come on, Fernando. She’s much cuter than you! Mind if I borrow her for a bit?”

Fernando raised an eyebrow. “As long as you give her back.”

Lando scooped Yn up and spun her around, eliciting a squeal of delight from the little girl. “Let’s go find something fun to do, yeah?” he said, bouncing her playfully in his arms.

Carlos wandered over, curious about what the commotion was about. “What’s going on?” he asked, noticing Yn giggling in Lando’s arms.

“She’s playing with Lando now,” Fernando said, shaking his head with a fond smile. “He just took her.”

Carlos chuckled and approached Yn, switching to Spanish. “Hola, pequeñita. ¿Te estás divirtiendo?”

Yn looked at him with wide eyes, understanding her father's language better. “Sí!” she replied eagerly.

“We’re going to play dolls,” Lando said, holding up a small stuffed bear he had found in the McLaren hospitality area. “Well, Yn is, and I’ll just be doing whatever she tells me to do.”

“Dolls, eh?” Carlos grinned. “Lando, do you even know what she’s saying? She might just order you to give her all your snacks.” He winked at Yn. “¿Quieres que le quite las galletas a Lando para ti?”

Yn giggled and nodded. “Sí, quiero!”

Lando feigned a look of shock. “Hey! No fair! I didn’t agree to this!” He glanced at Carlos. “Okay, fine, you’re on doll duty too, Señor Translator.”

Carlos sat down next to them, carefully listening to Yn’s instructions as she showed Lando how to make the bear dance. “She says the bear wants a snack, Lando,” Carlos translated with a teasing grin.

“Of course, he does,” Lando said, “Fine, we’ll go find some cookies.” Yn clapped her hands in delight as Carlos took her hand and led her toward the hospitality area.

Not far away, Charles was observing the scene with amusement. When Yn spotted him, her eyes lit up at the sight of a friendly face she recognized. “ChaCha!” she called out, reaching her little arms toward him.

“Bonjour, princesse,” Charles said warmly, swooping in to take her from Carlos’s arms. “Are you having fun with these silly boys?”

Yn giggled and nodded. “Ice cream?” she asked sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

“How can I say no to that face?” Charles laughed. “Let’s get you some ice cream.”

Moments later, they were sitting together, Charles feeding Yn small spoonfuls of vanilla ice cream while she giggled between bites. “Just like a princess,” Charles said, wiping a tiny spot of ice cream from her cheek with a napkin. “But don’t tell your papa how much I spoiled you, okay?”

Yn gave a serious nod as if making a grand promise. “Secret!”

Not long after, Lewis wandered by and saw Yn with Charles. “What’s all this, then?” he asked, flashing a smile. “Charlie, you’re spoiling her already?”

“I couldn’t resist,” Charles said with a shrug. “She’s too cute.”

Yn’s attention was already on Lewis, recognizing him from the many times her dad had spoken about him. “Lewie!” she cried out, reaching her arms toward him.

“Well, if the little princess requests,” Lewis said as he picked Yn up and settled her on his hip. “How about we go watch a movie? I’ve got ‘Coco’ ready on my iPad, and it’s in Spanish.” Yn's eyes widened with delight at the mention of a Disney movie.

Yn cuddled up against Lewis as he found a quiet spot in the Mercedes hospitality area. She rested her head on his shoulder while they watched “Coco,” with Lewis occasionally glancing down to make sure she was still enjoying it. Her little face lit up at the familiar songs, and she clapped her hands to the beat.

Across the paddock, Max was adjusting his Red Bull cap when he noticed Yn trotting around after the movie with Lewis, now searching for her dad. Max crouched down, holding his cap out toward her. “Hey, Yn, want to try on my cap?”

Yn nodded enthusiastically, and Max placed the oversized Red Bull cap on her head. It nearly swallowed her whole, and she laughed, trying to peer out from under the brim. “Too big!” she giggled.

“Yeah, it’s a bit big for you, isn’t it?” Max chuckled, flipping the brim up so she could see. “But you look pretty cool, I’d say.”

As Yn wandered around with the cap, Fernando was finally doing an interview, holding his daughter on his hip as she played with the brim of Max’s hat.

“And how do you balance being a driver and a dad, Fernando?” the reporter asked, nodding toward Yn.

Fernando glanced down at Yn, who was fiddling with the microphone cord. “It’s all about priorities,” he said with a smile. “Today, my priority is making sure she has a good time.”

Just then, George strolled by, clearly amused by the sight of Fernando multitasking with his daughter. Without a word, George reached over, scooped Yn right out of Fernando’s arms, and continued walking away, casually chatting with her as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Fernando blinked, completely taken aback. “Did he just…take my daughter away?”

The reporter laughed. “It seems like George has a new fan.”

Fernando shook his head with a chuckle, watching as George carried Yn toward the Mercedes garage. George held Yn up, letting her "fly" like an airplane, which elicited more giggles from her.

As the day began to wind down, the paddock was slowly emptying, and Fernando started looking around for Yn, wondering where she had wandered off to this time. Just as he was about to ask someone, he saw Checo walking toward him, gently cradling a sleeping Yn in his arms. Her head rested on Checo's shoulder, her small fists curled around the fabric of his racing suit.

“I found her napping in the hospitality area,” Checo said softly, handing Yn over to Fernando. “Figured you’d want her back.”

Fernando took Yn into his arms with a grateful smile. “Thanks, Checo. She’s had quite a day.”

Checo grinned. “She’s been all over the paddock—think she’s the real star of the show.”

Fernando chuckled, looking down at his sleeping daughter. “You’re right, she stole the show today.” He kissed Yn’s forehead, feeling a sense of peace and happiness as he held her close.

As the sun began to set over the paddock, Fernando walked out with Yn in his arms, thankful to have his little girl back and ready to head home.

[babyloncurse]

tagging system ━━ pope silas callaway

[intoxicated-chan]

Miguel O'Hara x f!reader smut request

Our dearest Miguel breaks the headboard during sex. That has for sure happened to him once or twice!! At least it's true in my headcanons!

Tell Me How U Feel

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ You’ve told him many many times that he must watch his strength whenever it comes to sex. It seems Miguel doesn’t like listening.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Tell Me How U Feel” by Black Dresses. Two posts in one day, especially smutty ones. Thanks for reading!! I used Spanishdict so please let me know if there is anything wrong!!

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 430

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, p in v, little obsession from Miguel, no prep, fluffy, restraints, hickies, bruising…..

Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!

“Las cosas que haría por ti.” (The things I would do for you.)

A yelp comes from your lips as you fall back, caught by surprise by the springiness from his bed. You push yourself up on your elbows, you look up at him to see him staring right down at you. The two of you were already nude.

Miguel crawls forward on the bed, he looks over your hickey littered neck and the bruise already forming on your hip. His eyes then came into contact with yours, he stopped when he was on top of you and pushed you back to lay back on the bed.

He takes your arms and moves them upward until your wrists are pushed against the headboard. You can feel the weird substance of Miguel’s webbing retrain your wrists.

His tongue runs over his lips as he grabs your legs, spreading them further. He didn’t tease or give any kind of warning, he slammed right into you.

Miguel let out a growl like sound, his pace quickened immediately which earned more and loud moans from you.

“Quiero todo de ti.” (I want all of you.) Miguel hissed, his hands moving to clutch the headboard as he slammed right into you, over and over again. You can hear the headboard slamming against the wall.

“Te quiero solo para mi.” (I want you to myself only.)

That’s when you heard the crack and your arms fall from the headboard, it makes Miguel stop his moment and click his tongue in annoyance.

“Dammit, Miguel!” You groan, “I just bought this frame!” You look at the damage, carefully moving away from the splinters and broken pieces of the wood, “Seriously?”

“You should’ve bought a better frame.”

“I shouldn’t be buying more frames if someone could watch their strength.” You retort, “Untie me.” You sit up and push your tied wrist to him.

He grabs your wrists, “No puedo controlarme cuando estoy contigo.” (I can’t control myself when I’m with you.) He uses his claws to pry off the webbing.

“Great! Now I have to get a new frame.” You get up from bed and gather your clothes.

“Where are you going?” Miguel asked, grabbing his clothes and putting them on when he’s following you out the door.

You manage to put on your clothes, “To buy a new frame.” You grab your keys and put on your shoes.

“Can’t that wait?” But Miguel doesn’t follow you when he steps out the door.

“No.” And you shut the door, off to buy a new frame. You leave Miguel feeling frustrated.

© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.

[mapis-putellas]

𝑺𝒊𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒓𝒆/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

The soft chime of the bell over your studio door broke the quiet as Alexia walked in, her familiar silhouette instantly drawing your attention. She wore a loose black hoodie and gray sweatpants, her hair tied back in a messy bun. Her eyes found yours, and the faintest smile tugged at her lips as she made her way toward you.

“Hola, cariño,” she greeted, her voice low and warm as she leaned over the counter to kiss your cheek.

“Hi, baby,” you replied, smiling as you wiped your hands on a towel. You’d just finished reorganizing your supplies for the third time that morning, nerves settling into something calmer now that she was here.

Alexia leaned her elbows on the counter, her green eyes roaming the space as if she hadn’t been here a hundred times before. “Estás ocupada?”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head. “I kept my morning free since you said you were coming.”

She gave you a small, grateful smile and nodded. “Bien. I want… un tatuaje nuevo,” she said, shifting a little in place.

“Oh, yeah?” you teased, tilting your head at her as you stepped out from behind the counter. “What do you want this time, captain?”

She held your gaze for a moment before tugging her hoodie up just enough to expose her ribs on her left side. Her skin was smooth and tan, and your fingers instinctively reached out to touch her as she traced the spot with her own hand. “Aquí,” she said softly. “Quiero… ‘Siempre.’ In your writing.”

Your brows lifted slightly at her choice, and a small smile tugged at your lips. “Siempre?” you repeated, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. You didn’t need to ask why—both of you said it all the time. It was your word, your promise to each other.

Alexia nodded as she subconsciously leaned into your touch, eyes soft as they searched yours. “Sí. Para ti.”

Heat crept into your cheeks, and you cleared your throat as you gestured toward the back. “Alright, let’s get you set up then.”

Alexia followed you without hesitation, her presence filling the small space of your private studio. She was familiar with the routine by now, sitting down in the tattoo chair as you washed your hands and began to gather your supplies.

“Are you sure you want it on your ribs?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at her. “It’s gonna hurt.”

She smirked, leaning back in the chair with an air of confidence. “Puedo manejarlo,” she said, her tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile. “Alright, tough girl. Don’t come crying to me later.”

Alexia chuckled softly, pulling her hoodie off and setting it aside. The tattoos scattered across her arms and back were on full display now, each one carrying its own story. You loved tracing them with your fingers late at night, listening to her whisper their meanings in Spanish while your head rested on her chest.

“Relax,” you told her gently as you approached, marker in hand. You set it down for just a second before picking up some green soap and a razor to remove the minuscule hairs from her skin. “Sit back, lift your arm a bit.” You direct.

She obeyed, her lean, athletic frame shifting slightly to give you access to the area. Once you’d made quick but careful work of removing the hairs, you once again grab the marker. Your eyes focused as you leaned in, your fingers steady as you wrote out the tattoo in your utmost best writing.

“Perfect,” you murmured, leaning back to inspect your work. “Take a look and let me know what you think.”

Alexia craned her neck to see the small outline you’d drawn on her ribs. She nodded once, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Me gusta.”

“Good,” you said, setting the marker aside as you rise to your feet to wash your hands again. Once clean, you slip on a pair of latex gloves and reach for the tattoo gun as you sit back down. You glanced up at her, your tone turning playful. “Now, remember the deal. No pouting about payment.”

Alexia’s lips twitched, and she rested her head back against the chair, watching you with amused eyes. “Besos?”

“Besos,” you confirmed with a grin. “That’s all I’ll accept.”

Alexia laughed, the sound low and warm as it filled the space. “Eres terca,” she murmured, though there was no bite to her words.

“And you love me for it,” you shot back, your voice light as you prepped the machine.

She didn’t argue, simply tilting her head slightly as she watched you work. “Sí, siempre.”

You glanced up at her then, your chest tightening at the soft sincerity in her tone. “Siempre,” you echoed, smiling before turning your focus back to the task at hand.

The low hum of the tattoo machine filled the room as you carefully began the design. Alexia sat still, her expression relaxed save for the occasional furrow of her brow when the needle hit a particularly sensitive spot.

“You okay?” you asked after a few minutes, glancing up to check on her.

Her lips twitched into a small smirk. “Told you… puedo manejarlo,” she assured.

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. “Alright, Miss Tough Girl.”

As you worked, the two of you fell into an easy rhythm of conversation. Alexia told you about her last match you hadn’t been able to attend, how her teammates had teased her for accidentally kicking the ball out of bounds. You shared a funny story about one of your clients, who had nearly fainted halfway through their tattoo because they’d insisted they could handle the pain.

“Es como Mapi,” Alexia said with a laugh, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “She acts… so fuerte, but when she got her back tattoo, she cried.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you dipped the needle back into the ink. “I’ll have to remind her of that next time she teases me.” You grumbled as you pulled her skin taut with the hand that was also holding the kitchen towel you were using to wipe away the excess ink.

Alexia grinned, her gaze softening as she watched you. “You’re… muy linda when you work,” she said quietly.

Your cheeks flushed, and you ducked your head slightly, focusing on the tattoo to hide your reaction. “You’re just saying that.”

“No,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Es verdad.”

You glanced up at her, your heart fluttering at the earnest look in her eyes. “You’re distracting me, baby,” you murmured.

Alexia smirked, leaning her head back again with a satisfied expression. “Good.”

The rest of the session passed in comfortable silence, save for the occasional hum of the machine and Alexia’s soft breathing. When you finally finished, you sat back with a sigh of relief, inspecting your work.

“All done, go take a look.” You said, setting the machine aside and pulling off your gloves.

Alexia sat up slowly before easing herself off of the chair, making her way over to the mirror sat just to the left of her. Her hand immediately goes to her side as she twisted to get a better look, eyes lighting up as she took in the delicate lettering etched into her skin.

“Es perfecto,” she said softly, her fingers brushing over the fresh tattoo.

You smiled, leaning against the counter as you watched her. “I’m glad you like it.”

After a few quiet moments, you spoke again.

“Alright, baby, sit back down,” you said, gesturing toward the chair. “I need to wrap it up so you don’t mess it up before you can show it off.”

She chuckled, obeying without protest, though her gaze never left you. “Eres la mejor,” she murmured.

“Oh, I know I am,” you teased, carefully cleaning the tattoo with madacide.

She smirked. “Dork.” she said, her tone playful.

Shaking your head with a small laugh, you reached for the plastic wrap to cover the area. “Well, I could start charging you, you know. Some people pay me a fortune for this.”

Her lips twitched into a knowing smile. “Mis besos son suficientes,” she replied, leaning her head back against the chair.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, securing the wrap carefully over her ribs with some medical tape. “There,” you said, leaning back to inspect your work. “Now you can go and show it off to Mapi and make her jealous.”

Alexia grinned as she pulled her hoodie back over her head, sitting up straight and turning in place so her legs hung over the side of the chair. “Tu besos,” she murmured softly, her hands finding the belt loops of your jeans and tugging you closer.

“You’re very persistent, you know that?” you said as you come to step between her legs, though the corners of your lips twitched as you fought a smile.

“Siempre,” she replied. Her arms wrap around your thighs, just beneath your behind, and pulled you so your chest was flush against her own.

Before you could say anything else, her lips were on yours, soft and warm. She kissed you slowly, deeply, her hands sliding up to your waist to hold you in place. You sighed against her mouth, your hands coming up to rest lightly on each of her cheeks as her tongue grazes the roof of your mouth.

When she finally pulled back, your cheeks were flushed, and you were certain your legs felt a little weaker than before. Alexia smirked at you, clearly pleased with herself, and pressed a final kiss to the corner of your mouth as she pats your ass a couple times.

“Payment complete,” she murmured, her voice tinged with amusement.

You huffed out a laugh, stepping back to give yourself a moment to recover. “Alright, get out of here before I change my mind and start charging you for real.”

Alexia chuckled, standing and stretching her arms above her head. “Gracias, mi amor,” she said softly, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before grabbing her bag.

You followed her to the front of the studio, watching as she pulled her hoodie tighter around herself and adjusted her bag strap.

“Te veré más tarde,” she murmured, lips quirked up into a tender smile.

“See you later, baby,” you replied, leaning up to press a quick kiss to her cheek before she walked out the door.

Once she was gone, you shook your head fondly and went back to cleaning up the studio, humming softly to yourself as you worked. It wasn’t until later, when you checked your phone, that you noticed a new notification from your bank.

You opened it and immediately groaned when you saw the familiar four-figure amount Alexia had transferred to your account, listed under a memo that simply read, Gracias, bebé.

“Alexia Putellas Segura,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head as a smile tugged at your lips.

You’d told her time and time again not to pay you, but she never listened. She might have been stubborn, but so were you, and you made a mental note to bring it up again the next time you saw her—right after kissing her senseless to thank her for always showing how much she cared, even when she didn’t have to.

**

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @chelseacult

[acid-ixx]

I hope you don’t mind but I need to ramble this to someone, neglected Wayne reader right? The fam would forget to bring them to social events and whatnot right? So there would be very few pictures, articles and interviews or even facts about them, meaning that reader Wayne is a rarity. Still following me? Reader Wayne with a small but devout fanbase.

I’m talking they are trading the latest pictures and sharing links to the rare interview with reader in it, following any social media they have that isn’t private, they are just fascinated by this micro celebrity that seems to always be forgotten. Okay but also imagine one of the heroes developing a para-social attachment to reader. My money is on Conner Kent, mainly bc he can project his own issues with his dads onto reader and he can Dolores ~Encanto~ reader with his super hearing and develop a even bigger parasocial obsession with them

I hope you enjoyed this ramble, I will leave you be now, see ya later alligator! 🐊

omg another one of my asks that actually predicted a major plot point... this ask ties well with the last part written here. i'm thinking about having the reader get a love interest/s but i have already written an outline but one thing is for sure—

you have more than just your family interested in taking you.

major spoilers below the cut. — an excerpt from chapter xx

(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.

you are a product of a one-night-stand.

but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.

your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.

you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.

it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.

the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.

after all, your freedom is your doom.

maybe this is out of the picture, but id' like to imagine you and connor having a therapy session where one comes out absolutely obsessed with the other, and it's not you.

connor's character for me is so, so good for an angst potential. it's like his personal struggles is a way for him to show you how absolutely you two are meant to be. and he may have met you through bumping into you (false) or maybe... he has seen you stalking through the shadows back when he visits the manor. using his superhearing, he can hear your voice from the kitchen begging alfred to relay a message to bruce, sounding so absolutely desperate. it's the way you tell alfred how you wished your father actually spends time with you, or how nobody seems to notice you— that he kind of just makes a silent promise that he will talk to you soon, he needs to know why this family seems so keen on ignoring and how hypocritical tim is for literally doing the same thing to you when he's aware of kon's past.

if he (or anyone else) should be a love interest (though he is a minor character in the series unless you guys want him to be a major one), i can already imagine the absolute hell you have to suffer not only from your family but from your own lover. just imagine the stockholm syndrome or the delusions you convince yourself with because you're finally loved by someone but that love restricts you from the very freedom you tried to build.

the batfamily would be so conflicted because why are you choosing some stranger over them...? then you slap them in the face with, "well, this "stranger" wants to kidnap me and lock me up, sure! but at least they actually looked at me for more than five seconds!" and you can watch how the color drains off their face, their conflict giving you the perfect opportunity to run away from both your ex-family and your soon-to-be-kidnapper-lover who thinks your comeback is a funny way for you to propose.

[lowkeyerror]

Congrats on Your Divorce

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Notes: Requested, fluff & smut, librarian!reader, divorced!Wanda, smut, fingering, thigh-riding, cunnilingus

Summary: You befriend Wanda, a regular at the library you work at, after learning about her divorce. The friendship becomes something more one day when you come over to help her with her sick kids. As your relationship progresses you even talk about buying a home together, which leads to a physical manifestation of how much you love each other.

An: It took me awhile because I got a little carried away. I hope I did your request justice 🙇‍♀️.

Masterlist

You enjoyed the mundane lifestyle that came with working at the library. There was a comfort that came with knowing that you worked in something of a community center. Being able to provide a service that for some was the highlight of their day. In this day and age having regulars at the library was a rarity, especially the adults. Kids would come after school for homework or for research purposes, but the adults were few and far between.

Technically it may have been weird that you had a favorite but you couldn’t help yourself. There was a woman named Wanda, she’d come once a week ask for a recommendation and sit there the whole day and read it.

She’d always make a comment or two on the book on her way out and it made you smile. It was good to know she appreciated your picks. Though there were other staff members she only really asked you.

When she missed one week, you found yourself discouraged. One week turned to two and so forth until it had been a month since you saw the woman.

“Y/n, it looks like your regular is back. She might need a little assistance,” one of your coworkers approaches you.

“What are you talking about?”

They give you a look that says ‘seriously’, “Ms. Recommendations, she’s in the non-fiction section looking a little worse for wear.”

You nod and make your way over to the section. There you find Wanda. Your coworker was not exaggerating. She looked so fragile as if she was just waiting for the tears to fall. She was staring at the books, but it was easy to tell that she wasn’t really reading anything.

“Looking for anything in particular,” you say softly, trying not to startle her.

She seems to snap out of her trance enough to try and answer you, “No, not today.”

It felt like she was speaking on autopilot. If it were another guest, you would’ve let her be, but this was Wanda. Perhaps it was a bit para-social but it felt like you knew her better than the average customer.

“I- I don’t mean to overstep, but are you alright?”

She lets out a tired sigh, “That obvious?”

You attempt to back track, “No… uh it’s just I haven’t seen you around in a while."

She looks away for a moment, “ Yeah, I um got a divorce. So I’ve been a hermit as of late.”

“Oh, congratulations.”

Wanda can’t help but laugh at your words, “Most people have been saying they’re sorry to hear, but congratulations? It’s kind of refreshing.”

You shrug, “Well I don’t think divorce is always a bad thing. It’s hard for sure, but it’s better than staying in a situation you don't deserve.”

“What if I was in the wrong?’ Her eyes are glued to the floor as she speaks.

“I may be overstepping again, but I doubt that's the case. You don't seem like the kind of person,” your tone doesn't make her argue, instead a look of relief crosses her face.

“I'm not,” she says taking a deep breath.

You smile at her, “Then it’s their loss.”

She smiles back at you, “I guess you’re right.”

Glad to have made her feel even a little bit better, you begin to leave the aisle she's in. You dint get far before there’s a gentle tug on your wrist. You turn back to stare into Wanda’s warm green eyes.

She’s nervous as she speaks, “I don’t know if I’m too old to be doing this, but fuck it. I could really use a friend right now and I was wondering if you’d be open to getting coffee or something, whenever you’re free.”

You stare at her for a few seconds before nodding, “I’m off in about 15 minutes, there’s a café a few blocks over that I think everyone should try at least once.”

Her excitement builds up in her features. She clears her throat to hide it, “I’ll wait for you by the YA novels?”

“Sounds perfect.”

From that day on Wanda wasn’t just a regular customer anymore, she was your genuine friend. She was also one of the sweetest people you had ever met in your life. She was unbelievably strong too.

The details of her divorce were quite messy. A touch of infidelity here and there, mixed with a custody agreement was a recipe for disaster.

You always offered to be there in any way you can’t for. She usually turns down your more serious offers for help, and sticks to fun small outings. You can tell that she’s somewhat embarrassed by her situation, but you don’t think there’s anything she should be embarrassed about.

“Y/n, I know I said I was free to go out today, but Tommy is sick and Billy isn’t doing that great either, can I give you a rain check?”

She called you and you could hear the tiredness and distress in her voice, “Let me come over and help you, Wands. Two sick kids is rough work, I know you could use a hand.”

She’s silent on the line, but the coughs and sinus filled conversation doesn’t stop.

Wanda sighs, “Okay, do you think you can bring me some medicine? I’ll text you some ingredients I need for soup too if that’s alright?”

“Whatever you need, I’ll see you in a bit,” you say simply.

You follow through on your word picking up various cough, cold, and fever medicines along with some cough drops. You nearly forget about the stuff for the soup, until Wanda texts you something she left off the ingredient list. After picking up everything you head to her house.

You’d been to her house before, but never when her kids were there. You had seen them with her a few times at the library, but back then you didn’t quite deduce that they were her children. It feels so obvious now, but Wanda was definitely a young mom in your opinion, or at least she looked like one.

You rang the doorbell and waited with the groceries in your hand. It took a moment but eventually the door swung open revealing Wanda. Though your hands were full, she’s the one who had bags under her eyes. She looked as though she would fall over any second.

“You’re a godsend Y/n,” she tries to take the bags from your hands but you don’t let her.

“And you’re sick too, here I figured this would happen,” you rummage through the bags and pull out a medicine that’s for adults.

“It’s drowsy.”

You nod, “I know, I figured you need the rest anyway, let me handle its.”

Wanda shakes her head, “Are you crazy? You think you can handle my two kids and me on your own?”

You smile at her, “You underestimate me, Maximoff. Let me show you what I can do.”

“We’ll see, but first come meet them properly.”

You sit the bags down in the kitchen, opting to take the medicine upstairs with you. She takes you to their room.

Tommy is propped up in his bed watching as Billy plays videogames from his spot on the floor.

“Tommy, Billy, this is my friend Y/n. She’s going to help us out today,” Wanda introduces you.

“The library lady,” Billy sounds congested as he speaks.

You nod your head enthusiastically, “ Yep, that’s me. I heard you boys were sick, so I brought some stuff to make you feel better.”

Tommy gags, “Ew medicine.”

You sympathize with him, “Ew is right, but it’s worth it I promise. In fact, I’ll sweeten the deal, you guys take your medicine, and I’ll make you the best soup of your life in return.”

“Better than mom’s?” Billy questions.

“ 1 million times better,” you egg him on.

Tommy is more hesitant, “I don’t know.”

You get closer to him, crouching so you can meet his level, “How about when you’re feeling better, we go out to the arcade and get some ice cream too.”

That seems to be enough for the boy, “That sounds awesome.”

While you’re chatting with them Wanda starts to prepare the medicine cups for the boys. They take the medicine with all the dramatics that children do.

“Ok, we’ll be back to check on you guys, shortly. Billy, get some socks baby. Tommy stay under the covers sweetheart."

The both of you exit the room and head back down the stairs. Wanda moves to start unloading the groceries, but you stop her.

“If you’re not going to fully rest, at least sit. I can make the soup,” you point to the barstools she has in her kitchen.

“Are you sure? I can help-"

You block her from opening the next bag. She looks into your gaze, which holds no feeling of malice or resentment. Instead she finds a warn and tender look behind your eyes.

“I’ve got it.”

She listens to your directions and takes a seat

She watches as you prep the ingredients, ever so often asking where she keeps certain things. Otherwise there is a fluid motion to your movements in the kitchen.

“You know you don't have to take them to the arcade just because they took the medicine, right?”

You pause slightly from chopping vegetables to look up at her, “I probably should’ve asked if it was okay with you first, but I don’t mind taking them. They seem like good kids, which isn’t a surprise at all considering they’re your kids.”

She beams at your words, “They’re a little more docile in this state, but they can be a handful at times. We haven’t really had a big outing like that since the divorce, I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

“Then consider it done, as soon as they’re better let me know. We can all go out and have some fun.”

Wanda can’t help the feeling she gets hearing you talk so nonchalantly about going out with her kids. It’s something like a spark, that she hasn’t felt in a long time. She takes this time to really look at you, you’re stunning. Truth be told Wanda had always found you a little attractive, but she wrote it off as you just being conventionally good looking. However now, with you standing in her kitchen cooking for her and her kids. She’s starting to think it’s more than that.

“Do you like children, Y/n?”

“I have a soft spot for kids, it’s partially why I chose to work at the library. I had kind of a rough upbringing as a kid. It was just me and my mom, and money wasn’t all that great, but I remember her taking me to almost all the community events they hosted at the library. We spent a lot of time there. When I was old enough to go on my own, it was rare that I didn’t go. The library is such a haven for kids it’s one of my favorite things about it.”

Wanda felt herself melting under the sincerity of your words, “That’s really sweet.”

You start cooking down the vegetables before you answer, “Yeah, if I wasn’t so crazy about the library, I would’ve been a chef. I actually applied to a few culinary schools in high school, pretty ambitious but I had won a few competitions. I had offers and full ride scholarships to some of the best schools out there, but I chose to become a librarian instead.”

Wanda tilts her head to the side playfully, “So you weren’t just talking shit when you said you’re going to make a soup 1 million times better than mine.”

You laugh, “Technically I’m using the ingredients that you told me to get, so it’s more like our soup. I’m just tweaking a few measurements and cooking it a little different. It’s like a group project, if you will.”

Wanda laughs even harder, “You’re so full of shit.”

“Language, there are children present.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, “They’re upstairs."

“Children have super good hearing Wanda, trust me, I’m a librarian.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle. She watches as the soup comes together a lovely aroma fills the kitchen, her mouth waters at just the smell.

“It smells delicious.”

You motion her over to the stove next to you. She scurries over, which makes you smile. She looks utterly adorable and ethereal at the same time. You began to notice it over the last few times you had hung out. Wanda was simultaneously the cutest and the most beautiful woman, you think you’d ever met in your life

“Taste,” you hold a spoon full of soup up for her.

She hesitates a little, but decides to just eat from the spoon while you hold it. Her eyes close as the flavors dance on her tongue. She lets out an involuntary moan, that has her blushing as soon as it leaves her mouth.

“Oh my god, that’s the best soup I’ve ever had in my life,” Wanda stares at you in awe.

“I hope the boys think so too.”

Wanda helps you fill the bowls for them, “They’re going to love it.”

True to her words the boys devour the soup going as far as to ask for seconds. Neither of you can deny them another bowl. Once they eat, you can see the food working in tandem with the medicine to tucker them out. Before they’re completely out of it you and Wanda get them ready for bed.

It feels more normal than either of you expected. By the time you’re done, both twins are now in bed. The tv plays something at a low volume, but you and Wanda are both aware that the kids will likely be asleep as soon as you leave the room.

When you leave you head back to the kitchen fixing 2 more bowls of soup for Wanda and yourself. You eat amongst each other with small chatter, but it’s comfortable. When you’re done, you almost have to fight Wanda to allow you to do the dishes.

She pouts, once again sitting at the barstool watching you clean.

“You haven’t let me help this whole time,” she whines.

“I’m here to help you, not the other way around,” you remind her.

Wanda places her hands on her hips, “But if you’re doing everything, what am I supposed to do?”

“Just sit there and look pretty,” you say without thinking.

Wanda feels her face heating up, losing track of how many times it has happened today alone, “Look pretty, huh?”

You can feel your ears heating with embarrassment, “oh I- well.”

“Oh my god are your ears turning red, that’s literally adorable. Are you flustered, Y/n?” Wanda teases.

You glare at her with faux-anger, “My ears? Your cheeks are just as red.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

You wash your hands, quickly drying them before approaching her. You keep walking until there is virtually no space between the two of you. You look down at her, you don’t stop your eyes from dropping to her lips.

“Oh really?”

She looks up at you, her cheeks indeed, red like you had mentioned.

“And if they were?”

“Maybe I’d say that it’s adorable,” you use her words against her. “Or maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Her eyes dart to your lips.

You look back into her eyes, “Maybe, I’d kiss you.”

“I’d like that.”

That was all you needed to hear. She met you halfway and, in an instant, you were kissing. Your hand rested on the small of her back, while her hands locked around your neck. It was cliché but it was cute. The kiss itself was respectable, but still filled with a feeling of longing.

Wanda’s hands drop from your neck to lightly push you back, “I’m divorced with two kids Y/n-"

You stop her before she can even rant, “I know, Wanda. I’ve been here, maybe not the whole time, but most of it. I don’t care that you’re divorced and I’d love to get to know your kids. I’d love to get to know you better.”

“I feel like you already know me, Y/n. We’ve been friends for over a year now. We’ve spent so much time together, I’m just surprised you’re not tired of me yet.”

You take her hands in yours, “I could never get tired of you. I’m quite literally asking for more. Let me take you out some time.”

“Are you sure?”

It’s bold, but you place a quick kiss on her lips, “Positive."

From there things just seem to fall into place. You kept your promise to the boys, taking them out when they recovered from their sickness. Wanda was impressed by how well you mingled with them considering her ex always seemed to struggle to relate. However you, had no problem tapping into that childlike like amazement that the kids felt.

Soon after that outing, you and Wanda went on your first real date. You took her out to a nice restaurant. It was an upscale establishment, the prices weren’t even on the menu. Wanda tried to fret about how she didn’t know if she deserved this kind of treatment, but you always reassured her.

You believe she deserved the best and as long as you could give it to her you would.

It only took 4 dates before you asked her to be you girlfriends, not being the best at waiting. Luckily for you she agreed and truth be told if you would’ve asked her on the first date she probably would’ve said yes then.

At this point you’ve been dating for a little over a year. The twins are with their father for the weekend, and Wanda is staying over at your apartment.

The two of you are on the couch. She’s resting in your arms as you watch tv, “Wanda.”

She looks up, “Yes, detka.”

“How attached are you to your house?”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Why?”

You hold her gaze, “Is it crazy if I say that I want us to live together?”

Wanda plays with your fingers, “No, I don't think so.”

You kiss her forehead, “It’s just a thought.”

“You want to buy a house?”

You nod curtly, “We don't have to leave the area, I know the boys have school and I wouldn't want to pull them away or make them start fresh or anything, but I’ve been looking at some homes in the area. Something a little bigger, Billy and Tommy could both have their own room and a huge backyard. Maybe a dog, in the future.”

Wanda cups your face gently, pulling you down to kiss her, “I would love to buy a home with you Y/n.”

“Really?”

Wanda kisses you again, “Really.”

“I love you,” your eyes softening as the words fall from your lips.

“I love you too.”

Your lips are connected again, this time neither of you break the kiss. Instead Wanda shifts in your lap to straddle your waist. Her hands playing with the tiny hairs on the back of your neck. Your hands start at her thigh but end up sliding up to her hips, and soon your fingers are in contact with the cool skin of her stomach.

You aren’t able to stop yourself from kissing down her jaw. She moves her hair and cranes her neck to give you more access. Your teeth sink into her neck only for your tongue to soothe the skin. You suck the spot tenderly, causing little whines to emanate from Wanda.

“Y/n,” your name is breathless on her lips.

She doesn't have to say anything else for you to stand up with her still in your arms. You carry her to the bedroom. Once you’re in there and her feet are on the floor, you pull her shirt off. Yours follows after.

Wanda feels herself getting wet under your gaze. The way you take in her bare chest, eyes blown with want. While you stare she gets rid of the rest of her clothes. You eagerly do the same.

You pull her flush against your body. Skin heating upon contact.

“You’re perfect,” your thumb toys with one of her nipples.

Your head dips to take it into your mouth. You suck lightly, ever so often slowly fanning your tongue over the nipple. You do the same to the other nipple, while your hand cups her warmth. You moan at her wetness.

“ I need you,” she whispers.

You kiss her tenderly, backing her onto the bed. You’re gentle as you ease two fingers into her. She arches her back slightly, and her kiss becomes sloppier.

You’re in no rush as you slowly build pace. Her finger nails dig into your back.

“More please,” she buries her head in your neck.

You begin pumping at a faster pace, using your thumb to stimulate her clit. Her ragged breaths in your ear only turn you on even more.

You jolt as you feel her hand in-between your legs. Her fingers play through your folds and you hear her gasp in your ear.

“All for me baby?”

You nod, “All for you, Wands. Can I taste you, baby?”

“Fuck,” Wanda murmurs.

She pulls her fingers from you, signaling for you to suck them. You take them in your mouth, swirling you tongue around the digits, high off of your own taste.

Once her fingers exit your mouth, you maneuver down her body. You momentarily take your fingers out of her. She doesn’t have time to complain before you’re sucking on her clit.

“Holy shit,” she entangles her hands through your hair.

You keep eye contact with her as you lick, suck, and slurp her pussy. She throws her head back, taking her lip between her teeth. You can see sweat illuminating her body.

Soon you add your fingers back and you can feel her approaching her edge.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she keeps repeating the mantra as she reach her peak.

You don’t stop when she cums on your tongue, only slowing your motions, to help her come back down.

“You did so good for me baby,” you say kissing up to her lips.

She shifts so her thigh is against your dripping cunt, “Your turn, my love. Use me.”

You see her flex her thigh, which causes you to moan, “Fuck, Wanda.”

Your hands rest on her shoulder as you begin to grind down on her. Her hands are on you, but the movements are all yours. Wanda watches with blown eyes as you fuck yourself on her thigh. Her hands climb up your sides to massage your breasts. You bite your lip as her fingers play with your nipples.

Wanda sits up slightly, just enough to get her mouth on your body. She sucks on near the top of your breasts, trailing hickeys across.

“I love it when you make a mess on my thigh, cum for me, moya lyubov.”

You cum all over her thigh. Her arms wrap around your midsection holding you steady as you shake. Her head rests against your chest, listening to your wild heart beat return to normal. She places a delicate kiss on your shoulder.

“I love you.”

You kiss the top of her head, “I love you too.”

Once you’re both cleaned up, you settle in bed for the night. You’re start out as the big spoon but soon Wanda turns to face you.

“I was so scared before you came into my life,« she admits.

“Wanda-"

She shakes her head, “Let me finish. I was so lost, I didn't know what to do, if there was anything I could do to feel like myself again. There were so many days I went through thinking I was unlovable. Then you show up, and all of those feelings and thoughts just leave. I’ve never felt so cared for. You make me remember all of the things I love about myself. You make love seem so easy, it feels obvious when you’re with me. I’ve never experienced a love like you’ve given me and I need you to know I love you too. I’ve never felt what I feel for you with anyone else.”

Wanda starts out loud and sure, but by the end her voice is quiet. She doesn’t break eye contact, fighting against her insecurities.

There are no more words shared between the two of you. Wanda kisses you with everything she is feeling and you return her fervor. She pecks you again before burying her head in your chest. You hold her tightly in your arms wondering how you ended up being so lucky.

Her words make emotion swell inside of you. Your voice cracks when you speak, “You are the love of my life. I was doing alright before, but you and the boys are truly everything I’ve been missing in my life. Getting to be with you, a part of your family, it means everything to me Wanda. Thank you, for letting me love you.”

[transformation4life]

Looking The Part

Jerome wasn't know what he was expecting when he was dragged into attending a costume party in the middle of December. His friend Jake, practically begged him to come and he couldn't say no to his puppy dog eyes. The theme was weird too. "Dress up as the Job you wanted as a kid." For Jerome, he wanted to be a doctor. The thought of saving lives was really appealing to the young child, before reality hit him with all its down and the thoughts of constantly being around dying people became way less appealing once he experienced real life. Even so, he felt obligated to follow the theme and bought some doctor's outfit that even came with some work appropriate hat and shoes off some online store. It was crazy cheap too and here Jeremy was, staring at the uniform on his bed right before he needs to head to the party. "Let's get this over with..." He starts stripping down into just his underwear and starts putting the clothes on.

Jerome slid the pants over his legs, pulled the shirt over his head, put on some bracelets and put the cap on. To his surprise, they were a bit big on him. "I thought I got this in my size... Ugh whatever time to get to the par-" Jerome froze. It felt like his body just stopped moving and it felt like he couldn't move his body at all besides his face. "What the hell?!?!" He said to himself. But that's when the fun began. Jerome felt a quick jolt of pain hitting his entire body as his face scrunched in pain. It subsided eventually and that's when Jerome saw it. Jerome's body was... growing. Jerome could hear the snaps of his bones as he looked to his left arm bulging. growing. becoming much more meatier than it used to be. Now it looked like one thick tree branch with veins visibly covering the arm. He looked to his right and saw that his right arm now mirrored his left. "I-Is this making me muscular? W-Why?" Jerome spoke out. He still couldn't move and the transformation kept going. Jerome's torso underwent its own transformation as any fat on his stomach was evaporated leaving a flat stomach that gained six sexy bulges. Jerome's flat chest was flat no longer as two massive chugs called pecs adorned him now. To top it off, his torso gained a v-shape. Next up was Jerome's lower half as it instantly gained a lot of bulk. His legs becoming thick and beefy and his feet growing a couple sizes larger. It's a good thing he wasn't wearing the shoes yet. The next to last change was Jerome's ass becoming bigger and much more bouncy. What seemed to be the final piece of the transformation was Jerome's face as it became much more Brazilian in appearance while his skin gained a minor tan. The transformation stopped by thickening his vocal cords and letting Jerome free.

Jerome looked down at himself. He couldn't believe his eyes. He just turned into a brazilian stud in mere minutes. "O que havia nestes-" (What was in these-) He put his hand over his month. Did he just speak Portuguese?

"Como vou explicar isso para Jake?" (How am I going to explain this to Jake?) Jerome certainly couldn't go to the party looking like this. But how how would he change back?

But before Jerome could think further, he subconsciously lifted his right arm, flexing it. That instantly gave Jerome a hard on, which in turn made his cock grow inches longer. The fabric on the shirt even started to rip.

"Eu poderia me acostumar com isso..." (I could get used to this…) While pointing at the rip.

After Jerome said this, the final changes began. Small little hairs appeared on Jerome one by one until a thick forest on his torso and pecs. Tattoos above his left pec and left arm sketched themselves onto Jerome and for the piece of resistance, a luscious beard of facial hair grew onto Jerome's face as well as his hair becoming more professional. There even seemed to be some greys sprinkled in, giving him a much more older appearance. And that's when the memories came flooding in. Jerome was no longer jerome, he was Ademir Pereira, a brazilian doctor. He started bodybuilding at a young age and it showed. Years of medical knowledge entered Ademir's mind as his apartment quickly changed into a luxurious house with multiple rooms and his bedroom became much larger to boot. Jerome was all but gone. Ademir settled into reality, looking around his room, wondering why he was in his hospital uniform so late at night, but then he heard his phone ring. He picked it up and saw a text from someone named "Jake" "Hey man, still coming to the party?" Ademir was confused. From what he could string of his limited knowledge of english, he never said he was going to a party with this "Jake". he had an early morning workout before work. He had no time for parties. "eu não falo inglês" (I don't speak english) he typed before putting his phone down again. The phone promptly changed into something much nicer than the dingy one he had before. With that morning workout in mind, Ademir was ready for bed. He threw off his uniform, bouncing his pecs before promptly sleeping.

The next morning at the gym, Ademir was ready to get his workout on. He spotted his workout buddy and waved. "Vamos trabalhar meu amigo!" (Let's get to work my friend!) He said before showing off his pecs to them.

"Nossa, Ademir, com esses peitorais, você realmente precisa de um sutiã!" (Geez Ademir with those pecs you really need a bra.) "Haha! Você realmente acha isso?" (Haha! You really think so?) Ademir laughed with confidence as he took his shirt off.

"Definitivamente. Mas chega de falar disso, vamos colocar seus representantes!" (Definitely. But enough about that let's get your reps in!) His friend said before reaching for his arm.

Ademir nodded, as they got to work on their routines for the day. After a couple hours. Ademir did a good flex in the mirror for all to see. This was the life! But he better get to work soon, those patents need him.

This was Ademir's daily routine. Work hard, workout hard, flex hard. He wouldn't any other life. Not to mention the upkeep on his social media which he also enjoys. Just recently he bounced his pecs to his viewers and they cheered, sending him hundreds of donations. Ademir was happy and that's all the mattered.

[kombuuuu]

Somethin’ Soft for someone Tough.

Earth 42!Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

“Let me stitch you up, Miles.”

i ❤️ miles and he is so bf uhuh (i’m insane put me in a cell)

also he’s soooooo a simp in this, none of that ihu typa love his mama raised him RIGHT

warnings: injury, stitches, medical practices from someone who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing, some angst, slightly suggestive at times

I dot NOT speak spanish so if anyone is willing to help with translation for future fics, I would owe my life to you (and give early release? i dunno wtv u want babygirl)

—

Miles didn’t understand your hurt. He didn’t understand why you hated him being the Prowler—, didn’t understand you crying when you found out. Or your shame and disappointment when it came to his..

-Profession.

It confused him, he did this to keep you safe. He’d already lost enough, he can’t lose you. He won’t. You just didn’t get that.

Having you be mad at him, loath him, despise and detest him for being Prowler. It was easier than you dead because he wasn’t.

He would rather you hate him, than only have your memory.

So when he came home to you sleeping in his bed, waiting for him to return to you only two weeks after his initial reveal, he did nothing but lay down next to you and let your hand slowly drag into his. Interlocking your fingers in a twisted pattern of forgiveness and relief.

And he didn’t try to understand why.

—

It was warm this night, the heat of a summers Sun leaving Brooklyn a mucky kind of hot. Sweat dripping down the flesh of those still dwelling outside so late, only taking solace in the rare occasion of a breeze through their clothes.

Which is why you felt ever grateful lying in an air conditioned apartment dawned only in a pair of your lovers boxers and a ribbed white tank top.

It was the pair you bought him a while back when browsing street stalls, decorated with little cats and hearts. You thought they were funny, he was not impressed (but he was happy you were happy).

Miles had been out a lot lately. Assignments, as he called them, had been increasing in frequency as of late. Willing you more and more worried about the boy you loved, he just kept coming home injured.

Which you endearingly (aggressively) scolded him for, tones of care seeping into your monologue of being safer with his job whilst he huffed and puffed begrudgingly.

Assuring you he was nothing but careful,—

“Mami, ¿por qué iba a ser imprudente con mi vida cuando te tengo a ti para volver casa a? Alguien tiene que cuidar de ti.”

"Mami, why would I be reckless with my life when I have you to go home to? Someone has to take care of you."

A bashful murmur of “Just be more careful.” Would only reward you with a hand on your waist and the beginnings of a smile. You sighed out in boredom, draping a hand over your forehead dramatically. Spread out on Miles’ bed awaiting his return that’s seemingly taking years.

A crash outside your (boyfriends’) window alerted you out of your position, the piercing sound of metal scraping against metal grating your ears. Shooting up from your laid position, you messily shuffled off the bed, almost tripping over yourself to get to the figure struggling beyond the glass. A heavy claw dragged the window open with the apparent little strength it had left, heavy breaths and short rumbles of discomfort reaching your ears.

The neon pink of the Prowlers mask greeted you, quickening your aid in slamming open the window and catching Miles’ stumbling body from toppling through.

A husking groan sounded from your sweetheart as the mask slowly peeled back, revealing the trails of blood creeping from a cut in his lip.

“Hey, mami.”

Miles was gorgeous, he was a still picture of a painted deity in living form. The plump of his lips dripping a slow streak of burgundy did nothing to taint the sight of him, you wished it had, maybe you could be madder.

“Miles, what happened?” Your concern had outweighed your admiration, you were now fretting.

“I tripped.”

You scoffed something unbelieving, smiling despite the ache in your chest at the poor sight of him. Your emotionally stumped man.

“C’mon, baby, come inside.” Your right hand caressed the side of his face, left collecting his claw adorned fingers in yours to help him through and into his room.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he stepped over the sill, sucking in a breath and hoping you didn’t catch it.

Glancing up at you from his hunched position, you gaped back at him, unimpressed but worried.

He dropped your hands, the clasps on his gloves clicking, and the metal dropped to the ground with a dull thud. Pushing his arms back and letting his backpack fall too, he cracked his neck and winced again.

You all but pouted at him, reaching for his hurt body in discontent.

He leaned down to put his head on your shoulder, breath tickling your neck as he peppered you with light kisses, nipping your skin in just a graze. He wasn’t one to usually be so affectionate, but his guard always lowers with you, shoulders dropping and pulse quickening.

“No está tan mal, ma.”

"It's not so bad, ma."

His hand lifting from out of yours and onto your waist, circling the exposed skin between his boxers and your shirt.

His boxers,—

—,his hand twitched.

“Not that bad?” Your hushed voice bled of concern. “There’s a gash in your side!”

The simple serenity he had found buried in your neck had been ripped away from him in an instant.

You all but hauled his body to the bed, urging him to sit down against the sheets whilst he sulked grumpily behind you. Pushing against his chest and sitting him down.

You ran to his bathroom, washing your hands thoroughly before opening the cabinet under the sink, reaching back to the first aid kit you had placed here for this exact reason and towel, you rushed back to his room and shut the door behind you. “Amor, It’s just a—“ Cutting himself off, he hissed and cursed some under his breath.

“No digas que es sólo un corte.”

"Don't say it's just a cut."

“Mi sol, I have suffered worse.”

“Let me stitch you up, Miles.”

You turned back, shooting him an exasperated look while you threw the towel. Miles catching it without much effort and putting it under him. Flipping open the latch on the kit you sat yourself next to his bed, knees underneath you and digging harshly into the scuffed wood. You grabbed everything you assume you’d need, setting it on the open lid of the kit and focusing back on Miles.

“You look good like this, mami.”

You choked slightly, glaring up at him.

“Take off your jacket, Morales.”

"Sabes, si querías que me desnudara..."

"You know, if you wanted me to undress..."

“One more word.”

“Understood.”

He groaned as he did. Jacket falling off his shoulders and onto the bed, he pushed it to the floor beside you and spread his knees. You shuffled closer between them, lifting his shirt enough to see the damage on his torso and sighed shakily when figuring he was right.

It was just a graze, but a damn deep one. On the right of his torso, falling just under his ribcage was a thin, deep gash.

“What were you cut with, Papi?”

His stomach clenched as you prodded around, checking the wound for any signs of oncoming infection and signalling for him to take his shirt off.

“A knife, probably.”

Despite the weary of the situation, a smug look adorned his face. You poked his stomach, him wincing.

“Figures.”

You hid your smile.

He slipped his shirt over his head, grimacing at the pull of his wound. You took it from him and set it aside, getting an unopened bottle of water from the kit and pouring it over the cut. The water ran through the blood, trickling down his abs and soaking the waist band of his pants, he tipped his head back, groaning lowly in pain.

“Mami, entiendo que estés enojada, but please be gentle.”

"Mami, I understand that you're angry, but please be gentle."

He gazed down at you lazily, the drawl of his accent coating his voice syrupy in light of his injury. He looked downright sinful, braids draping lazily and shoulders dropped. Leaning back on his palms with his legs spread.

“I am gentle.”

“Sure.”

You focus returned to his wound, grabbing a clean hand towel and patting his cut dry, gently.

The occasional hiss or moan would interrupt you, but other than that Miles stayed relatively quiet. Watching you work as you fixed him.

“There, all done.”

“Not gonna kiss it better?”

You huffed, amused as you started to put everything back where it belonged. You could change the sheets and dispose of the hand-towels tomorrow, right now he just wanted you.

Miles grabbed your waist as you stood, hands slipping behind you to shove you forward into him. He buried his face into your stomach and sighed. You giggled lightly, the lack of a smile on his face tagged with the need for your touch was something no one but you could get used to. Your hand slowly trailed up his bare back, nails scratching lightly at his skin. He shivered, tightening his hold on you further.

“Lay down, baby.”

He whispered your name, “Chiquita, you take such good care of me.”

Humming, you unhooked his arms from you and pushed him to lie back by the tips of your fingers.

“Gon’ spoil you after this.”

You grabbed the towel, surprisingly dry and dropped it to the floor with the other discarded items.

“You already spoil me, Papi.”

Miles kicked off his shoes, sparing you a glance and a hum at the endearment.

“‘S’cause you deserve it.”

He unbuckled his belt, threading it out through the loops and threw it to land somewhere. You dragged the corner of the quilt back up to the both of you, stopping halfway. Miles sighed in annoyance, huffing at his pant button and cursing it as he fumbled to pull his pants down.

You giggled, “Need help, baby?” He scoffed lightheartedly. “I got it.”

“Mhm.” He eventually did get it, pulling his pants off and over his legs, coughing slightly at the wind crushing his cut had caused him.

“C’mere mami.” He grabbed your thighs, dragging you on top of him. “Mm—“ “Shh, it don’t hurt.” You let yourself relax slightly, mostly leaning on your need as not to hurt him.

The stars in his eyes as he looked up at you, he sighed quietly.

“It’s hot baby, we’re gonna get all sweaty.”

“Hopefully.”

“Miles.”

You rolled your eyes in a laugh, hooking your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Mm, there. Now you’re all better.”

He rubbed shapes into your thighs, loving the proximity. The way your breaths mingled and skin stuck together.

He thanked the Moon and the Stars for letting him keep you, begged every day to anyone out there that could hear him to tether your souls and kill him have he ever lose you. Would kill a million men to keep you safe, and he’d already had a running start.

He cleansed himself of his sins with your love, showering in the light you provided for him, and watched the blood of any man drip from his fingertips and into the rivers you’d created in his veins. Letting it mix with his own and beat by the tone of his heart. Which only ever raced for you. Only beat for you. He could only live for you, your love and acceptance.

Of which Miles would never understand why you loved him, and he would never try to.

“Much.”

He laid down, you following. Lying your head on his chest and listening to his breathing stutter at the contact.

It was late now, far later than a healthy time to finally sleep. But nothing could break the bubble of ease that now seemed to suffocate him. Lulling him into a slumber with his love against his heart.

—

first fic shoulllllf probably be fluff b4 i angst again

as angst is all i’m good for

i literally don’t know how to write fluff so pray it was good

IF ANY TRANSLATIONS WRONG PLESASSSSSE CORRECT ME

[adrienneleclerc]

hii i love your fics so much! i was wondering if you could do a latina!reader x charles fic were reader is asking charles juicy questions fans sent in or him guessing female products? i hope this make sense ❤️

I think I get it. I’m going to make Y/N like Kika, she has a heavy social media presence but is also a model.

Grill the Boyfriend

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Latina!Reader

Summary: Charles fans have questions and Y/N will give them the answers

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors, a few +18 questions

A/N: sorry it took me so long, this was written on my phone

Y/N was setting up the camera and ring light in the living room so her new video would turn out well.

“Muñeco, are you ready?” Y/N asked,

“I’m coming!” Charles called out from his room before coming into the living room with a black shirt and gray sweatpants. “Do we have to film this today?”

“We don’t have to, but I want to get it out of the way.” Y/N said. Both sat down on the couch and Y/N clicked a button so it could record. “Hola, mis amores, if you’re new here, my name is Y/N and welcome to a new video. Today we are here with my boyfriend, the beautiful monegasque man who’s face card never declines, Scuderia Ferrari F1 driver Charles Leclerc.”

“Hello, everyone.” Charles waves hi to the camera.

“So all of you have sent me your questions on Instagram, and today we are going to be asking them, how are you feeling, muñeco?” Y/N asked.

“A little nervous.” Charles said

“We will start with an easy question, who is your celebrity crush?” Y/N asked.

“You are.” Charles said.

“Aw, that’s sweet. Mine is (your celebrity crush) actually.” Y/N said and Charles was offended.

“That’s how you want to play it? I change my answer, my celebrity crush is Camila Morrone.” Charles said.

“Oh my gosh, Charles, she’s my friend, you are never beating the homie hopper allegations now.” Y/N said and shook his head.

“Next question, please, before you give me a migraine.” Charles said.

“Very well, what is your favorite Måneskin song?” Y/N asked.

“Mm, i like zitti e buoni, mamma mia is very good too. Zitti e buoni is my favorite.” Charles said.

“Of course it is, there are so many edits of you to that song. I like supermodel and baby said, which is also used in your edits.” Y/N said.

“You watch edits of me, Mon coeur?” Charles asked.

“Next question!” Y/N exclaimed and Charles laughed at her abruptness. “Besides wiener dogs, what is your favorite breed?”

“I like all dogs honestly, I don’t have a favorite breed, but I always wanted a golden retriever.” Charles said

“That’s because you are a golden retriever boyfriend. I always wanted a Saint Bernard.” Y/N said.

“That’s because you loved Beethoven as a kid.” Charles said.

“I still love Beethoven, such a cute movie. Anyway, next question, if we broke up, would you try to date one of my friends?” Y/N asked and Charles covered his face.

“No I wouldn’t, all of your friends are in the states.” Charles said.

“So if one of them came here, would you go out with her if we broke up?” Y/N asked.

“Of course not! I would be trying to win you back.” Charles said.

“Okay then, do you think the car has gotten worse since Monaco?” Y/N asked. Charles paused for a moment

“Legally I can’t confirm or deny that statement. I think there are strategies that the team are implementing that only work in theory but not in practice and that’s causing poor results in races.” Charles said

“What a diplomatic answer, Mr. Leclerc. Based on your recent grill the grid video, have you ever thought about standing me up when we were first talking?” Y/N asked.

“No I did not think about standing you up at all.” Charles said.

“Más te vale, eh. Okay, this question is in Spanish, has pensado en tener una fiesta de despedida para Carlitos? Have you thought about throwing a goodbye party for Carlos since it’s his last Ferrari season?” Y/N translated the question to English.

“Yes, at the Ferrari garage, we’ve already started planning.” Charles answered

“Si, en el garaje de Ferrari, ya están planeando todo para Carlitos.” Y/N translated in Spanish. “Next question, do you like my cooking?”

“There’s no way they asked that.” Charles stated but Y/N showed him the Instagram inbox with the questions. “Does Charles like your cooking” Charles read. “I do like her cooking, she tries to make her cultural dishes fit into my diet and I appreciate that.”

“Thank you, muñeco.” Y/N kissed him. “What is your favorite sex position?”

“Why?” Charles asked facing Y/N. “Why do you need to know?” Charles asked facing the camera.

“They’ve asked this multiple times, the world wants to know.” Y/N said.

“Fine, I like Cowgirl, I like it when she rides me, I also like reverse cowgirl and doggy because I like seeing Y/N’s tattoo of my driver number.” Charles explained in detail and Y/N covered her face.

“Like Haley from One Tree Hill, anyway, what is one of your kinks?” Y/N asked.

“I like choking, hair pulling, being called sir.” Charles said.

“There will be no demonstrations. Craziest place you had sex?” Y/N asked.

“On the yacht.” Charles answered easily.

“I find it concerning how comfortable you are answering these types of questions.” Y/N commented. “Moving on, have you ever thought about marriage?”

“I have thought about getting married someday, having a family, 3 children like my mom did, a nice family dog.” Charles said.

“I’ve also thought about it, I think most women have Pinterest boards of wedding dresses, rings, centerpieces, shit like that.” Y/N commented. “Have you thought about moving away from Monaco?”

“I like Monaco, my family is here, I don’t think I can love somewhere else.” Charles said.

“Have you ever read fanfics about yourself?” Y/N asked.

“Im sorry, what?” Charles asked.

“Fan fiction, have you ever read fan fiction about yourself?” Y/N asked again.

“No I haven’t, but I admire the creativity all of you have.” Charles said.

“I have read fanfics about you.” Y/N admitted to Charles. “They are really well written on tumblr, you know.”

“Why read about me when you have the real thing, Mon coeur?” Charles asked

“Because I have trouble sleeping and I need something to read.” Y/N said. A few questions later, we are in the last question. “Are you excited for Lewis to join Ferrari?”

“Of course I am! We have talked a lot off the track, we are very good friends, I can’t wait for him to join Ferrari.” Charles said.

“And that’s it for this video, hope y’all liked it, make sure to like, comment, and subscribe. For more content, follow me on TikTok and Instagram, besitos.” Y/N said and stopped the recording. “Perfect! I just need to edit it and I can post it later. Thank you for being a good sport, muñeco.” Y/N said, kissing Charles.

“Of course, Mon coeur, anything for you. Now what were you saying about someone else being your celebrity crush?” Charles asked.

“Well they are my celebrity crush, you were my celebrity crush but now I’m dating you.” Y/N said. “You really think about marriage and having a family?”

“Whenever I picture myself having a family, you are right there.” Charles said, they shared a loving kiss. “You want to head out in the yacht today?”

“I would love to.” Y/N said.

The End

hope y’all liked it!