#so this panel is just rotating in my head
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I think everybody has that one scene in a fic that they're gnawing at the bars of their enclosure to write and sometimes I'm so inclined to just write it and that's not how my creative process has ever worked but maybe it should be. I really really just want to get to the part in concrete flower where Rook goes to Emmrich's panel at a very stuffy and serious symposium on traditional Nevarran death care and lets all of the lingo wash over her head completely uncomprehended because Emmrich is very beautiful and powerful up on the stage in this 1500-seater auditorium with a lav mic band-aided to the side of his face picking up every sound his mouth makes when he licks his lips or sips water. He talks for forty five uninterrupted minutes and somehow Rook doesn't think anyone else finds it nearly as erotic as she does. When they meet up afterward, Rook immediately goes down on him and realizes that he's wearing lace underwear--something he apparently does as a confidence booster when he's particularly nervous about a lecture. Why was he nervous about this one? He knew Rook was going to be there.
And Rook is like, Why are you nervous about me, a Minrathous Garbage Person, coming to your very fancy necromancy symposium? This is said during brief breaks for breath while she sucks his soul straight out.
And Emmrich, who's trying very hard not to fall in love with her, just kind of blabbers that he tends to forget his train of thought when she's around, heedless of the fact that that is THE most besotted thing that anyone has ever said.
Rook, who's trying very hard not to fall in love with him, assumes that this is just another quirk of Emmrich's character and not a confession from deep in his soul and determinedly gargles his balls just to shut herself up.
Then she probably does something unhinged like leave her underwear in his pocket with a note telling him they're for his next lecture.
Anyway that's been one of my big things to rotate on my commute. There's something extremely wrong with me.
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(Adventure Comics 342) (1966)
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(The Flash 329) (1984)
An interesting link between Superboy in the 60s and Superman in the 80s re:fellow heroes killing in self defense. Not what u'd necessarily expect from Supes. I sincerely doubt that Cary Bates had read this Adventure issue or even considered it when he was setting up this Flash trial, but it is neat to see a similar thought.
I wonder where he falls on this scale in modern comics?
#honestly i have so much in my head about clark thinking non-invulnerable heros have a right to self defense#and can't figure out how to write it out in order#so this panel is just rotating in my head#nik reads dc#Clark Kent#superman#🥫#⚡#🌌#🛰️#🥫.cbz#🥫.txt#🌌.cbz#🛰️.cbz#⚡.cbz
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Chasm: Curse of Kaine (Vol. 1/2024), #2.
Writer: Steve Foxe; Penciler and Inker: Andrea Broccardo; Colorist: Brian Reber; Letterer: Joe Caramagna
#Marvel#Marvel comics#Marvel 616#Chasm: Curse of Kaine#Scarlet Spider#Kaine#Kaine Parker#I was originally going to split this page into two posts#leaving just the top panel to comment «hardee har har ironic coming from someone whose creator refuses to let stay dead»#but I do think there’s an ongoing theme here#how much of Kaine’s interactions with Ben in recent years have been colored by the guilt of Kaine getting multiple chances#to learn what heroism while Ben was presumably dead#and then struggling with some of the objectively terrible things Ben’s done since#(is it Kaine’s responsibility as a so-called hero now to put Ben down as only Kaine has the strength and#supposed moral flexibility to do? But where does Kaine get the right to do that#considering his own past terrorizing Ben and Ben being one of Kaine’s greatest models of heroism?)#all wrapped up in a very brotherly Cain instinct#but yeah nothing that hasn’t been discussed before don’t mind my musing hahaha#I’m just constantly rotating this guy around in my head like a microwave#there’s also the humor here of Kaine not acknowledging (refusing to a knowledge???) how terrifying he is hahaha#although that joke would land even better if he still had visible claws on his suit
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curse you nightbringer for debunking one of my satan hcs!!
uhhhh anyway the hc is that after lesson 20 ends and mc leaves satan doesnt know what to do w himself so he just buries himself in his books. just like how it was before mc came. but instead of reading to distract himself from his anger he reads double the amount before to distract himself from the fact that hell probably never see mc again or smth.
while at the local library, satan finds a book on cats. he realizes hes never read this book and he wants to keep his mind off mc, so he decides give it a go.
he ends up really enjoying the book. so much to the point that he checked out any book on cats he could find. not only that, but there are now at least nine stacks of books in his room, purely on cats. hence the books that fell once mc returned in lesson 21 (i think it was lesson 21...? im pretty sure it is.)
this is also why one of mc's options are "youre cheating on me with cats?" this is completely new to mc.
but then nightbringer came along w the cat day saga.... it was a sad time for me. dont get me wrong, it was cute and silly and stuff but like.... MY PRECIOUS HC.... GONE WITHIN SECONDS....
#tbh this hc kinda sucks ive just kept it rotating in my brain for a while#i also like the idea that satan just saw a picture of cat one day and demanded that levi “tell him more about this creature”#in like the early days of when they fell down to the devildom#if u dont know cat saga is basically where there was a few days where the “today is” on the side panel said stuff like#“black cat appreciation day” and “observe a blue cat from a distance day”#and THEN it ended with “satan is banned from naming days day”#that was so hashtag sad for the community (me)#girl why am i calling it the cat saga i made that up in my fucking head#obey me swd#obey me shall we date#obey me! shall we date?#obey me nightbringer#obey me satan#obey me
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i have to keep writing shadomega one way or another and this time its in comic format
#talking#u cant make out SHIT in this screenshot everything is gray thumbnails except those black bg panels. which arent finalized either#been thinking about comic making recently. i dont think id ever do a long-running thing but i do have comic ideas in my head :)#a lot of it comes from like... when i write sonic in general it feels like some of it would fit rly well as a comic. LOL#that sonado fic i wrote last year for example. i wrote that in a way where i can imagine it as a comic so fucking easily in my head LOL#especially with the action scenes its like fuuuck i take so much inspo from idw for those#this shadomega one is just a short internal monologues thing so i wrote it up in a trance n was like. this would be really good illustrated#ive been rotating this shadow & princess rosalina comic idea in my mind for months too LOLLL fuck that the school semester just started man
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That’s a hard one, isn’t it? There’s so many things—
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One guy in the audience: Woo!
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I told my mother to stay home.
#match game#Fannie Flagg#I wish I knew how to gif because her flirtations with the audience are So much better than what I can capture with screenshots#also… this fucking guy who’s just called on her for the super match!#she consistently matches with him during regular game play AND gives him the top super match answer but he says smugly#‘I have to go with richard for the $5000’#get fucked you sexist pig#and the look on Richard’s face when this dude picks him over Fannie says the same thing!#right on Richard!#richard annoys me when he chastises contestants for not trusting him#and it’s so boring that most people choose him for the head to head#but sometimes I love him. when he’s firmly team Fannie Flagg or when he’s super into the fun Pretty Girl#one of the very best panels was when Ethel merman was the Pretty Girl and Don Sutton was the Just Some Guy#and of course Fannie Flagg was the Weird Girl#because Richard’s at his best with a Weird Girl he really likes and a Pretty Girl he really likes#and Brett’s at her best when she’s with Charles and a Just Some Guy she really likes#and my favorite of Brett’s favorite Just Some Guys are don sutton Mel tillis and bill Anderson#don Sutton and bill Anderson are actually good at the game and Brett’s SO tickled by them! and they reciprocate!#either of them would’ve been adequate replacements for Dawson in 79 and syndication#the world if meme with a rotation of don sutton bill Anderson and Scoey mitchlll#because those are the dudes Fannie Flagg also vibed with 😂🙃#tbh Fannie gives a lot of crummy answers for super match but this week she handed out I think every single one of the top answers#and not one bozo chose her for the head to head
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Finished the first page :)
On my way to make a Dan Phantom works at the daily planet comic that’ll probably never see the light of day. Here’s hoping my motivation stays for long enough that I finish it
#only two more pages to go!#I’m not coloring sHIT. this is going to be my very mediocre art at its barest form#some of the poses and facial shapes are not at all how I want them to be but I just went ‘fuck it’ and moved on#the script for it is fully written. i just gotta draw it now.#i also have a bare bones Storyboard Sketch of the poses I want in the panels#this isn’t going to be the prettiest#but it’s going to have lots of effort and love poured into it#the faces do be changing every panel#as does the height differences#but perspective is the bane of my existence. i cant rotate an image in my head.#this is very fun tho I really adore the dialogue between Lois and Dan.#I’m so excited for y’all to see it :)
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House Calls.
Part Five
Summary: Aaliyah has an elusive charm that can be alluring to some and frustrating to others. Professor Terry is compelled to have her. On one fateful evening at his cousins bachelor party, he runs into Aaliyah. An interaction he hadn’t imagined would ever happen.
Warnings: SMUT, 18+ CONTENT, based off of Players Club, Nasty Talk, Professor!Student. ANGST.
In the early morning, just before the sunlight came in through the balcony, sultry jazz titillated her ears. The AC was cranked to combat the humid climate, and the smell of fresh linen mixed with Shisha tobacco and intense Bourbon Vanilla tickled her nose pleasantly. There's never a dull moment in this Crescent City.
Aaliyah shivered with arousal when Professor Richmond’s long arm circled her waist from behind and pulled her into him. Her plush cheeks collided with his dick that was so hard it reminded her of a metal bat. Her eyes widened a fraction and her soft lips parted, releasing a little breath of arousal. Terry’s warm breath ghosted across the back of her neck. Suddenly, his lush lips grazed the skin of her neck and he started peppering feather–like kisses on her skin.
“Can’t sleep.” Terry whispered.
“Neither can I,” Aaliyah tilted her head back, blinking her siren eyes at him, “All of you is awake.”
Terry chuckled against her bare shoulder. He nuzzled his nose there to inhale her scent.
“Your own fault, mon amour…”
“I’m happy to know that I turn you on…”
Terry raised his head behind Aaliyah to peer down at her. She shifted her body slightly, the white linen soft as it grazed her stiffened nipples. They stared at each other unblinking, too caught up in the moment of being together in such a way. Aaliyah hadn’t imagined it would get this far. She’d teased him, enjoying the push and pull, but never had she expected to end up in bed with him.
And fucked by him.
She was still on cloud nine about their phone sex and that was days ago.
“I bet you are. Now, you belong to me…”
Terry stroked Aaliyah’s cheek with his thumb.
“…And only me.”
“Quite possessive, Professor don’t you think?”
The soft spoken words was something akin to an angel whispering. A harmonic voice so sweet yet so powerful.
“Let’s not do that, Aaliyah. You’ve been on my mind the moment I laid eyes on you. And although you turned me down for that lunch, I would have tried again and again to have you.”
Aaliyah rotated her head away from Terry’s penetrating stare and handsome smirk, suddenly bashful beneath him as he hovered above her. How was it possible to feel the sweltering heat of desire wafting from him? It set off an inferno that she could feel throughout. From her scalp to the soles of her feet. Intensely.
He was a man of his word no doubt. That pleased Aaliyah and made her nervous all at once.
No man has ever made her nervous.
“Look at me…”
Aaliyah leisurely turned her gaze back to him. He sat up on his elbow above her, his biceps flexing beneath the golden glow of the wall sconces with a brass finish. The king sized bed with a black velvet wall panel headboard hadn’t been broken in enough. Terry gave her a silent look that told her without words that he needed her body again.
Terry stroked some of her soft, sleek hair from her face, the strands brushing her shoulder and fanning out against the pillow beneath her. With one hand, he cradled the back of her neck, and with the other he traced the curves along Aaliyah’s lips before tilting down to capture those succulent lips of hers. His tongue swept across her bottom lip, urging for entry. Aaliyah opened for him, her eager tongue gliding over his in a slippery tango. Their heads swiveled back and forth. Terry had a hazy look in his oceanic eyes.
Her pliant legs circled his waist and Terry pressed his stiffness against her soaked lower lips. The mixed heat radiating from between their legs caused Aaliyah’s clit to ache for him. Terry’s dick pulsated like a heartbeat from the softness of her pussy and the slick coating his veiny shaft. The soles of her feet brushed against his sides. Terry’s tongue delved deeper, almost dislocating his jaw. Aaliyah hissed when one of his large hands wrapped around her neck.
She broke their kiss, Terry colliding with her jaw. Aaliyah swayed her head against the restraint, nibbling on her bottom lip from the sensation of his teeth grazing her skin and his tongue tickling her neck. The warm breath from his lips made her squirm and sigh. She was an assertive woman who spent her nights as a cam girl telling men what to do. It was time she got broken down and gave her body over to someone else for a change.
Long fingers appeared between her legs. Terry raised his head above her exquisite face, looking down on her with blazing eyes so caught up in lust for her. His lush lips parted a fraction, giving her a view of his pink tongue and porcelain teeth. Her nipples looked like chocolate–covered gum drops the way they poked out so stiffly. Goosebumps decorated her skin that reminded him of a caramel delight. Whenever Aaliyah became aroused and flustered, the tip of her nose and the tops of her cheeks would deepen in color.
Glossy brown eyes tried to focus on his face but her lids were disobeying her. Terry studied her face like she was the most beautiful art piece he’d ever seen. He shifted his body to rest beside her, propping his body up on his elbow while his free hand played between her legs. Aaliyah spread herself for him, pink pussy glistening.
Terry studied the shape of her pretty pussy, taking note of how her outer lips and inner lips were relatively the same size. Her clit to labia created a wishbone shape and instead of its usual bright pink it resembled more of a coral pink from how aroused she is. He stroked between her inner folds with a single finger, and each time his finger would swipe over her clit, Aaliyah’s hips would jerk in response.
“Mind if I take my time and play in this pretty pussy?”
Aaliyah resulted to shaking her head. Words were lost to her. His manicured fingers felt too good and skillful. His smooth baritone in her ear sent shivers throughout her body. Terry propped up one leg, the movement causing his fully extended and solid dick to bounce. Aaliyah stared at his stick with a stunned expression. Heavy balls acted as a pedestal to keep that heavy dick poked out. The glow of the lights highlighted the veins along his girth and the drizzle of pre cum on his fat tip.
“You’re so hard right now,” Aaliyah whispered with astonishment.
Terry’s mesmerizing eyes dropped down to look at her. He pushed two fingers deep—middle and ring finger—all the way down past his knuckles. Aaliyah sucked in a breath, locking eyes with him. Terry didn’t waste time reaching depths between her walls. A creamy essence coated his long fingers and the sound of his passionate stirring was on full max.
“Mm, you get so messy for me I love it,” Terry spoke softly against Aaliyah’s forehead, “Pussy responding how I want it to…wet and gushy…got my fingers moving in and out so easy…”
Aaliyah pinched and tugged on her nipples. She licked her lips with her jeweled tongue, her eyes focused between her legs.
“Sexy women,” Terry pecked her forehead, “Pussy feel good don’t it?”
“Yessss…”
“This what you deserve…you want me in this pussy all you gotta do is ask…let me know and I’ll make this pussy cum however you want me to…”
Aaliyah’s pussy clenched around his fingers as a reaction to his words. It did things to her knowing he would do whatever it takes to please her.
“…is this an open invitation to come to your office whenever I want you to make me cum?”
“Mhm,” Terry pushed deeper, “No panties…show up ready to cum…like the nasty little slut you are…”
Terry’s movements increased. The faster he went, the harder his palm collided with Aaliyah’s clit. It sounded like he was plunging into a body of water. He had Aaliyah’s pussy sounding like he was splashing in a puddle on a rainy day. Aaliyah released her nipples and Terry bowed down, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking hard.
Terry’s tip was weeping. Pre cum drizzling down the back of his shaft in a slimy trail. Terry popped his lips off of her nipple when the sensation of Aaliyah’s soft, delicate hand circled his thickness. The thick vein on the underside of his dick pulsated against her palm the more she twisted her fingers. She was right on his spot, just beneath his tip, her thumb brushing across him.
Terry pressed his thumb against Aaliyah’s clit as he finger fucked her. Her wrist went limp and she paused as her body seized up to prepare for eruption. He could see her stomach caving in repeatedly, her eyes watered, her toes flexed. Terry went back to sucking her nipples as he worked the muscles in his arm and hand to bring Aaliyah over the edge.
“Unh…unf…yes…uhhh…Professor!”
Aaliyah���s hips started lifting to meet his fingers. Sweet moans filled the air.
“Oh fuck!” She screeched.
Terry flicked his tongue on her left nipple and his fingers slowed down to a stop inside of her. A puddle of her cum stained the sheets. He gently pulled his fingers out, mouth agape when he noticed they were dripping. He brought them to his mouth, sucking slow.
“Taste good?” Aaliyah asked with a seductive lilt.
“So good, baby…I wanna taste more…”
“All for you to have, big daddy…”
“Big daddy? Is that right?”
Placing himself between her legs, Terry curled his arms around Aaliyah’s thighs. He adjusted himself to lay on his stomach, leaned forward, and ate her pussy like an exquisite meal he would never have again. He didn’t stay on her clit for too long, not wanting Aaliyah to cum so quickly. He wanted her to beg for release. The strength of his arms and the feeling of his muscles cutting into her thighs let her know that she had nowhere to run.
Terry’s tongue sank into her pussy and wiggled. Aaliyah yelped a few times when he licked her with precise flicks of his tongue. She couldn’t grind her hips against his tongue, all she could do was lay there on her back and moan his name while dragging her fingers through his short curls.
She lost the signal to her words when he thrust the thick muscle of his mouth inside of her. Letting it sit there for a moment, he felt tremors take over her body and she whimpered loudly. He groaned at the sound, taking delight in breaking her down to his will. She had denied him long enough. She teased him for far too long. Too many times he’d dreamt of doing this to Aaliyah. Stick his tongue so far up her pussy it almost touched her heart. Make this sexy woman cum on his tongue just because. Give her ass the greatest head she’d ever have in her fucking life.
“Don’t move again or I’ll stop.” Terry barked out.
The bass in his voice made her act right, and her body went limp. At that moment, he was just all mouth, tongue. Aaliyah sat up on her elbows, instantly locking eyes with him. She kept her legs open for him and when he leaned back to admire his work she couldn’t believe how soaked and engorged her pussy looked. Terry licked his lips in one swipe before going back in to slurp her up.
“Fuck, you want me to cum all in your mouth…please, can I cum in your mouth, Professor? Can your little slut cum all over your lips?”
Terry responded with precise sucks that had saliva bubbles gathering around his mouth. Aaliyah couldn’t recall EVER getting head like this. She didn’t know whether to cry or to moan. She settled for both. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks and suddenly her inner thighs quaked out of her control.
“Mhm…mhm…”
He knew he was the shit. She didn’t even have to tell him. Aaliyah collapsed against the pillows and her thighs closed around Terry’s head as her second orgasm covered his face the more she suffocated him. She pushed at his forehead but he wouldn’t stop.
“Terry, oh my—”
He was spelling his name on that pussy with his tongue.
The way he forced her thighs open. It hurt so good the way he spread her wide to the point of dislocating her hips. His tongue flicked repeatedly over her fat clit and she couldn’t stop him because he made sure her legs remained wide and limber. He would peek up at her in between licks and Aaliyah would lock eyes with him and each time she tip toed closer and closer to yet another cum.
“Terrryyyyyyy…Unh….”
She wasn’t strong enough to close her legs. His tongue weaved a gluttonous pattern over her pussy until he was content. When he finally stopped, Aaliyah curled into a ball. Terry sat up on his knees with his dick in his hand and maybe it was her brain being foggy from her orgasm, but his dick looked bigger than usual.
Terry didn’t even have to tell her what to do. Aaliyah sat up and crawled to him on weak knees. She arched her back and used her mouth only to wrap her lips around his tip. Terry popped Aaliyah on both cheeks with a delicious sting lingering. He finger-combed her long hair from her face and off to one side. Heavy breathing transitioned into deep grunts. Aaliyah sucked with no hands, jaws tight and eyes on him.
She counted the eight pack leading up to prominent pecs and a face that belonged in a museum. He was so pretty she couldn’t look away even if she tried. She did make use of one hand however. She had a handful of his heavy balls while her mouth worked magic. Terry smoothed his hands up her back and over her ass. His fingers sank into the meaty flesh and then he spread her open from behind. Aaliyah whimpered with his dick sitting at the back of her throat.
“Did I tell you to stop?” Terry spoke softly.
He grabbed her hair in his fist to keep her still while he fucked her throat. Spit left his dick glossy and her face and chest a mess.
“Aaliyah, relax your throat for me…”
She did as she was told. The feeling of him touching her uvula made her gag.
“If only you could see the way this dick fit in your mouth…”
One hand on the back of her head, thrusting into her mouth and whimpering the entire time. Aliyah’s tongue slid around his frenulum, making his tip tingle with pleasure. He continuously dripped pre cum and she cleaned it up with slow licks and those sultry eyes that he could get lost in staring up at him.
“Making that shit nasty.” Terry said.
“This dick belongs to me…all of this…”
Aaliyah played with it in her hand, squelching noises from how wet his dick was loud and clear. His balls sat nice and tight and Aaliyah bent forward to suck on those too. She pumped his fat dick while showing his balls some attention.
Terry’s tongue sat on his upper lip as he watched her. His brows snapped together when she returned to his dick with her eager sucking and slurping. He got in that mouth deeper, shivering when he could feel her teasing giggle around him like a vibration.
“Suck that dick…dassit…so sexy…so sexy, Aaliyah…baby…baby, you’re making me cum…shit is so good…fuck! Damn…damn…OH—”
Aaliyah started focusing on his tip and then she swallowed him whole. Terry cradled her head and bent forward, the repeated gawk–gawk of her mouth had him moaning and calling her all types of vulgar names. He felt his control snap and his cum shot from his tip in heavy droplets all over her tongue and chin.
Terry fisted himself to finish, leaning back on one hand while the other pumped the last bit of nut on her wiggling tongue. His knees were aching so he stretched them out before falling back against the sheets. Sweat clung to his skin and his dick sat over his belly button. Aaliyah snuggled closer to him and instantly sleep overtook them.
————
Sit on that dick
Sit-sit on that dick
Sit-sit on that dick, sit on that dick
Sit on that, sit on that, sit on that, sit on that (Alright, Slash)
Beyond their balcony in the early afternoon, the blare of fast-paced, energetic, and call-and-response style hip hop was jarring. It shook the windows and caused Aaliyah to stir awake. She reached one arm over instinctively, and felt nothing but a vacant space and crumbled sheets. She blinked her eyes open, the hotel room with an old world elegance and modern sophistication surrounding her. Wine red, black, and antique accents decorated the king suite.
Her body felt like she’d been put through the most intense workout of her life. Her muscles spasmed whenever she moved. Her pussy was sore to the touch and her clit throbbed. Love bites and bruises on her hips mingled with the beautiful path of stretch marks etched into her skin. She’d never been fucked within an inch of her life before. She’d never known that seeing stars behind her lids when she reached climax would actually happen to her. Sure, a toy can get you there. Yeah, she could recall an eater or two from her past that lacked in the dick department but made up for it with her cum dripping from their insatiable lips.
Terry was on another level. This man quite literally stunned her. He’s outrageously handsome. There’s no way he could be great in bed AND fine as hell. He can’t possibly have the best of both worlds. Yet, somehow, Aaliyah found her fairytale man. The man you dreamt up to deliver wet dreams. The ones in stories. No, Professor Richmond is the embodiment of every woman’s dream. And he wanted Aaliyah all to himself.
She didn’t realize how long she’d been in bed staring up at the ceiling just thinking about him and playing in her hair all sprung until the sound of footsteps entering the room from the hall had her sitting up in bed. Terry caught her eye with a smirk. He was drenched in sweat, an all white T-shirt with the letters CORE UFC GYM on the front in bold font. He was so soaked that the T-shirt molded against his abs and pecs like fresh plaster. He paired it with black shorts that hugged his thighs and accentuated his quads and glutes. Terry removed his AirPods from his ears and kicked off his sneakers at the door.
“Afternoon, baby. Went for a little workout…”
Aaliyah smoothed out her hair and tried to look presentable. It only caused Terry to chuckle.
“You look absolutely beautiful.”
Terry went in for a kiss, his musky scent spicy in her nose. It was pleasant, but Aaliyah backed away before Terry could even savor a kiss.
“What? Do I stink?”
“No, I didn’t brush my teeth.” Aaliyah replied with a sheepish laugh.
“So?”
Aaliyah climbed out of bed, naked body on full display. Terry watched her pin her hair up with a claw clip and then the sway of her hips as she made her way towards the bathroom. He gave her some space to do what she needed to do while he undressed. The cool air from the room made his skin feel clammy because of the sweat. He tossed his things in a bag before checking his phone.
Nothing special, just emails regarding work and a few texts from his mother letting him know they would be in town soon for the wedding. He texted her back quickly before placing his phone on the charger and making his way towards the bathroom. When he entered, Aaliyah was turning on the shower. It was a standing shower with black tiles and a detachable shower head. It was wide enough to fit both of them comfortably. On the sink, she had her own soap and so did Terry.
“Mind if I join you?” Terry asked as he cracked the door so it wouldn’t get too steamy.
“Not at all. Figured you’d want to anyway.”
Aaliyah placed a shower cap over her hair and entered the shower. Terry stepped in behind her, taking careful steps. He jumped back slightly from the temperature of the water. Aaliyah giggled and Terry sucked his teeth before reaching over her to turn the temperature of the water down.
“Tryna burn my skin off.” Terry fussed.
“Hush,” Aaliyah had an exfoliating cloth in hand and she applied unscented soap to it first, “Wash me.”
“Please?” Terry snatched the rag and gave Aaliyah a teasing look with an arched brow.
“Pretty please with a cherry on top?”
She pouted her lips and Terry couldn’t help but smile at how adorable she looked.
“Aight, face me.”
Terry ran the cloth over her soft, blemish free skin in a circular motion. Aaliyah giggled when he brought the cloth over her ears. He locked eyes with her and then he couldn’t help but to lean in and peck the tip of her nose. He turned her around and tapped her on the booty for good measure.
“Just can’t help yourself.”
“Phat–phat on you and you expect me to behave?”
Aaliyah laughed, “I do, actually.”
“Says you? Baby ima feel up on this ass whenever I want.”
He dragged the cloth down the dip in her spine and over both hefty cheeks. He cleaned throughly, but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t do it on purpose. Terry had her cakes jiggling when he washed her off in between. Aaliyah gasped, reaching back to grab his wrist.
“You play too much!”
Terry laughed and it was the most pleasant sound. He smiled with his entire face, making his nose scrunch up. He had the goofiest laugh and it made Aaliyah smile from ear to ear. He gave her a second cleanse with a vanilla bean body wash, the smell permeating the air and it was strong and fragrant.
Terry rinsed the rag and applied some wash for her pussy. Aaliyah watched him reach around from behind and gently scrub her outer lips. Aaliyah tilted her hips back, pressing her butt into his crotch and she grabbed onto his bicep. Terry watched his movements from over her shoulder. When he was satisfied, he rinsed the rag and hung it on the railing of the glass shower door before using his hand to gather water in between her lower lips.
“You ain’t slick.”
“Who said I was being slick?”
Terry’s fingers rubbed slow circles against her clit. Aaliyah responded to his massage with a soft moan. Terry peppered kisses along her wet neck and even licked her there, the smell of vanilla filling his nose.
“It don’t make no gahdamn sense how fucking fine you are…”
He pushed two fingers up in her and Aaliyah rose to her tip toes. Terry is a strong man, he could probably lift her up between her legs with one arm and toss her on his shoulder. She wondered how much weight he could squat and bench press. Aaliyah made a mental note to go to the gym with Terry sometime just so she could see for herself.
“You hear me?”
“Yes,” Aaliyah replied barely above a whisper.
She could feel his big dick twitching against her ass.
“Wet ass pussy…ain’t been in this pussy with my fingers for that long and already you’re soaked…good fuckin’ girl…”
Aaliyah tilted her head back and Terry sucked her bottom lip into his mouth before their tongues slithered. She whimpered against his lips and Terry had to circle her trim waist with his muscular arm to keep her still.
“Aaliyah…”
The way he said her name against her lips. She could have melted. He was so head over heels for her.
“You can’t get enough of me,” Aaliyah spoke against his lips, “I drive you crazy.”
She reached back and captured his hefty dick between her fingers and started stroking. Terry abruptly turned her around with his fingers still inside. Aaliyah used both hands to jerk him while they tongue kissed.
“I ain’t been this pussy whipped ever.”
Aaliyah broke this kiss and pressed her face against Terry’s chest, laughing. He laughed along with her.
“That’s what I want. I want you to be so far gone over all of me, big daddy…”
Terry’s dick responded with quick pulses in her hand and a leaky tip. She gripped his fingers tight and when he curled them to stimulate her spot, Aaliyah could feel her stomach tighten. She was going to cum.
“That pussy cumming, huh?…what you want?”
Aaliyah nibbled on Terry’s chest between moans. He reached around and popped her on the ass. She flinched against him.
“Please, make me cum, big daddy…”
Terry held her close as the feeling became too strong and intense. She had a vice grip on his fingers and she threw her head back, exposing her neck for him to attack with his lips. Her body trembled and eventually she went limp against him. He painted her face with kisses until she was back to herself.
“You have a lot of skill, Sir.”
She had a sleepy look in her eyes. One hand on his dick, she lazily stroked him.
“I aim to please…”
Terry reached for his own cloth and handed it to Aaliyah. She looked down at his hand and couldn’t help but to laugh. She snatched it from his hand and Aaliyah washed Terry down once with Dove sensitive skin soap. She squeezed soap over his chest, watching the suds and the water slide down and over the peaks and valleys of his well–muscled body. She craned her neck to meet his gaze, the cloth in her hand giving his skin the perfect touch. He couldn’t help but to smirk at her.
When she got to his dick—which she saved for last—Aaliyah dropped the cloth over it and broke out in a laughing fit. He was so stiff. Terry shook his head at her silliness before removing the cloth and handing it back to her. Aaliyah grabbed his Salt & Stone body wash with notes of Sandalwood, Cedar, Vetiver, and Cardamom. She repeated her steps and when she got back to his dick, she stood behind him and wrapped a hand around him.
Terry planted his hands against the shower wall beneath the shower head. The water cascaded down his back and over his shoulders and hair. Aaliyah looked like a little person compared to him. She kissed his spine while her hand worked magic. With a twist of her wrist she would go from base to tip. She cupped his balls in her other hand and rolled them gently.
“This a lot of dick,” Aaliyah spoke with a seductive voice, “And all of this is mine? Hm?”
“Fuck, yes,” Terry raised his head, water rolling down his face, “All yours…”
“All mine to suck on?”
Aaliyah squeezed his balls with enough pressure to make his dick bounce in her hand.
“Yes, baby…”
“And to fuck?”
Aaliyah kissed his lat muscles with tender lips that made his hips jerk.
“Fuck on this dick, baby…”
He sounded so sexy. Aaliyah could feel her clit aching from his deep groans.
“I plan to…as soon as we get out this shower…”
Aaliyah let go of his balls and slapped the weight of his dick in her hand. Terry’s back muscles flexed.
“Yeah…nice and hard for me to bounce on…”
“You’re so nasty…” Terry spoke with a quiver in his voice.
She let go of his dick and watched as it swung from side to side. Her pussy was literally convulsing just thinking about him deep inside of her again. Aaliyah left Terry to wash his face and he gave her a look that told her he wasn’t happy about her stopping. He needed her and she couldn’t wait to give her pussy over to him again. She grabbed her towel to do a quick dry but Terry was out the shower and behind her so fast.
“Terry—”
“Shut the fuck up and bend over.”
Aaliyah’s back stiffened at his abrasive voice. She grabbed onto the double sink and stared straight ahead into the slightly foggy glass. Terry bent her over and brought one of her legs up to rest on the sink. He pushed down on the middle of her back hard and snatched off her shower cap. He spread one cheek and with his tip aimed at her wet hole he thrusted up in one motion.
“Terry, what the fuck?!”
Aaliyah felt as if she’d been split open. He grabbed her upper arms with firm hands and drilled her with harsh blows that had her ass moving like a tidal wave and her hair in her face. She reached one hand up and it slid down the mirror, the condensation dripping. She could see his face. Jaw tight. Eyes on her. Chin tucked. Lip between his teeth. Terry let go of her arms and grabbed her waist. He widened his stance and dug in her so deep her eyes crossed.
“Bet you feel that in your gut. Mhm. This how I’m fuckin’ my pussy. Right?!”
“YEAH!” Aaliyah shouted.
“Tugging on my shit,” Terry watched the way Aaliyah’s pussy yanked on him each time he pulled back to the tip, “Gawd…pussy so good…”
Aaliyah’s face fell into the bowl of one of the sinks. Her lips formed a silent ‘O’ and her eyes shut tightly.
“Aaliyah don’t piss me off.”
She couldn’t keep her leg up. And Terry wasn’t having it.
“Aight,” he withdrew his hips and picked Aaliyah up. He sat her on the edge of the sink and positioned her legs over his shoulders while his hands cuffed her ass to keep her steady and on that dick. He locked eyes with her and slipped back inside like he never left. She clawed his chest, grabbed onto the sink, gripped his arms, put a hand around his neck. Nothing stopped him from putting a hurting so good on her pussy.
“Shit! Oh noooo!” She watched his dick go in and out as if she were petrified by how fat and long he is, “I’m a cum! It’s so big! Terry! FUCK! Oh my god…ohh…”
Terry held his face against her neck and pulled her into a tight hug. His hips collided with her thighs with sharp thrusts. Aaliyah circled her arms around his neck and cried into his ear. Her toes curled under and Terry had to pick her up in the air when she almost slipped. Their shared breaths of over exertion echoed off of the bathroom walls. Terry’s entire body burned. He walked with Aaliyah in his arms and his dick buried deep, leaving the bathroom and entering the room again.
Terry placed Aaliyah on her back and continued fucking the shit out of her. Her perky breasts were pointed towards his face and he couldn’t help but suck her nipples in turn.
“Fuuuck,” Aaliyah moaned.
He used her flexibility against her and spread her legs all the way up to where his hands were locking her ankles in place. He dropped down at a measured speed into her pussy with an intense look on his face and deep grunts. A creamy ring formed at the base of his dick and it got so messy that his dick would slip out. He slapped her clit with it and plunged back in.
“You see this? Look at how I’m fucking you, Aaliyah.”
She watched with shiny eyes. Terry delivered quick thrusts before slowing back down. Aaliyah looked up at him and he looked at her with a smirk on his face.
“It’s so much dick…”
“I’m giving you what’s yours. I thought you loved big dick?”
Aaliyah pushed at Terry’s abs. He slapped her hand away.
“You know you wanna squirt on me.” Terry teased.
Aaliyah circled her belly with her arms to fight the feeling that formed in the pit of her stomach. Tears rolled down into her hair and Terry bent down to kiss her lips.
“Cum, baby…just like that…uh-huh,” Terry spoke against her lips, “Come on, my pretty Aaliyah…give daddy all that…that’s my girl…right there…”
Aaliyah sprung a leak. And Terry fucked her through it. He sat back on his knees to admire his work. Her inner thighs were soaked. She drenched his abs. Cream coated her inner folds and leaked to the crack of her ass.
Terry got down and licked her clean.
“Daddy, you didn’t cum yet…”
Terry looked up at her.
“What should we do about that, huh?”
Aaliyah smiled at him.
“Get up here.” She commanded.
Terry made his way onto the bed and on his back. Aaliyah straddled him. She leaned forward and with her eyes connected with his, she fit him inside of her and slowly lowered until he completely fit. Feet flat on the bed, Aaliyah bounced. Terry had a handful of titties as he watched her. Her hair had curled up around the edges, giving her a wilder look.
“Look at you go,” Terry thumbed her clit, “Show me who this dick belong to.”
Aaliyah trapped Terry’s hand to stop him from rubbing her clit. He chuckled, prying her thighs open.
“I don’t see you getting down on this dick. All the way down, Aaliyah.”
She paused, sinking to her knees and arching her back. Aaliyah resumed bouncing, looking back at her ass.
“Ride me. Ride Daddy,” Terry barked, “Fuck yourself on Daddy’s dick. Lemme slut yo’ pretty ass out. I’m a take care of that pussy real good. Anytime, baby.”
Terry slapped the hell out of Aaliyah’s ass. It jiggled with so much force from his large palm. She just knew he left a hand print.
Aaliyah dropped that pussy on him. She leaned forward and rode his thickness like she was bucking on a mechanical bull. Terry whimpered from her pussy clenching and releasing him as she rocked. Her thick cheeks clapped against his thighs and slammed down on his balls. And all he could do was give her ass a pop. His grunts and groans and heavy moans continued the more she fucked him.
“Aaliyah, FUCK…”
She wrapped a small hand around his neck and threw her head back.
“I feel you…inside me…harder…”
Terry couldn’t hold back any longer. He fucked up as Aaliyah came down. His heels dug into the bed, trying his hardest to give her a deep dick down. She bounced with speedy delight, smiling down at Terry between moans.
“YES! Yesyesyesyesyesyes!”
Aaliyah rode his ass through the mattress and Terry planted his hands on her hips.
“I’m finna nut—”
“Cum for me, Big Daddy! All in your pussy!”
“Dammit, Aaliyah—”
Terry came with a hoarse shout and Aaliyah giggled with glee. His dick remained hard after his orgasm. Aaliyah pressed her body against his and raked her hand down his chest while whispering nasty things in his ear.
“You cum so much…I love the way you fill my pussy up.”
Terry sat up and kissed Aaliyah with her in his lap and his dick still inside. Their tongues made a happy dance deep in each other’s mouths. Terry palmed her ass, not ashamed to let her know that he loved it. He was weak for a phat ass.
“I love the way your dick makes me cum…”
Terry smirked against her lips.
—————
After all the sex, Aaliyah and Terry freshened up again and made their way out onto Bourbon Street for lunch. They walked hand in hand, Aaliyah wearing a pair of denim shorts that fit tight and stretched over her ass as if they were painted on. She paired it with some mules with a low heel and a fitted T-shirt that she tied into a knot at the front. She sported a pair of retro shades in a gradient blue color and kept her hair pinned up with a claw clip. As they strolled, her heels click–clacking against the concrete, she swung her small, cyan Telfar bag that matched the floral design printed on the front of her shirt. Large, silver hoops decorated her ears and she kept it simple with a think, silver necklace and silver bangles.
Terry wore a faded, orange T-shirt with his old high school logo printed on the front. Light wash jeans with slight rips were on his lower half, and he pulled the look together with a pair of all white, Nike Air Max 90s. He wore a silver, micro cuban around his neck and a matching silver watch on his left wrist. He too wore shades, a pair of all black aviators.
They settled on Mambo’s, a festive oasis offering locals and visitors alike a re-energizing escape from the strip clubs, cover bands and daiquiri shops outside. Located in the heart of the French Quarter, the welcoming gravity of the towering three-story building invites you to explore what lies beyond its French doors.
A hostess led them to the very top of the building, seating them at a high top overlooking the open patio doors that led to a sunny outdoor eating sanctuary. The sun was shining too bright and the heat was too intense to sit directly beneath it. Zydeco music titillated their ears. Their waiter trickled over after five minutes with an upbeat personality and her hair styled in bright red box braids.
“How ya’ll doin? Welcome to Mambo’s. I’m Dasia. Can I start ya’ll off with sum to drank?”
Aaliyah turned to Dasia, “I’ll have a water with lemon and also…I’d like to try your passion punch.”
“It’s got Bumbu Rum, Don Q & Don Q Passion Fruit with fresh fruit juices. That okay?”
“I’m okay wit’ it.” Aaliyah replied.
“How ‘bout you?”
“A water with lemon as well. And I’ll do a draft beer…uhh…Abita Amber.”
“Okay…ready to order appetizers or ya’ll need a minute?”
“A minute.” Terry responded.
“I’ll be back wit’ ya drinks.”
Dasia walked away as Aaliyah flipped through the menu.
“I definitely want some oysters.”
“We can do that. Know what you wanna eat?”
“I was eyeing this blackened red fish…”
“That looks good,” Terry stroked his goatee, “I’ll probably do a po’ boy. A shrimp one.”
Aaliyah crossed her legs beneath the table. Terry reached over to caress her knee. Aaliyah flashed him a smile and blew him a kiss.
“I have to figure out what I’m going to wear to the wedding.” Aaliyah mentioned, swinging a pretty foot beneath the table.
“Terry looked over at her through his lashes, “Need me to buy you something?”
“Maybe,” Aaliyah pushed her shades up to rest on top of her head, “What are the colors?”
“It’s Tiffany Blue.”
“Hmm…maybe I could do a blue dress? But not exactly the same color?”
“That’s a good idea. Would have to search today though.”
“It’s okay. I think I have a dress in mind. My closet is full of clothes for any occasion.”
Dasia returned with their drinks. Terry ordered oysters and decided to wait to order the entrees until they were finished.
“Your parents are coming in town?” Aaliyah asked.
“Yeah, they’ll be here the day before.”
Aaliyah sampled her drink. It was perfectly sweet. Terry sipped his beer, licking his lips after.
“Do you see them often?”
“Nah. Not as much as I would love to. I try to see them twice a year. We talk almost every day though. My dad has health issues, something with his heart. It’s a hereditary thing. My grand father passed away from cardiac failure.”
“Sorry to hear that. I’m sure that’s scary with it being hereditary.”
“It is. That’s why I keep myself healthy and visit my primary care and cardiologist as often as I can. I’m all good though.” Terry reassured.
“Anything you wanna warn me about before I meet them?”
Terry chuckled, “My parents would love you, Aaliyah. You ain’t got nothing to worry about.”
“…do they want grandchildren?”
Terry drank some of his beer down. He gave Aaliyah a one-shoulder shrug.
“They do. They don’t pressure me ‘bout it. One day.”
Aaliyah smiled softly at him.
“Let me try your drink,” Terry held out his hand for Aaliyah to pass her drink over.
She watched him sample her drink and his eye brows ticked up with excitement.
“Oh that’s good. Perfectly mixed. A couple more of those and you gon’ be tore up.”
“Sounds good. But I want shots.”
“Later,” Terry shook his head.
“Whyyyy?”
“Stop whining,” Terry leaned forward to pop Aaliyah on her hip, “You don’t need that right now. When I take you out to dance later you can have all the shots you want.”
Aaliyah rolled her eyes and lowered her shades over them. She stuck her tongue out at Terry and he tilted his head at her and curled a finger for her to come closer. Aaliyah leaned in, her ass poked out. If anyone walked by, they would be able to see how the denim fabric outlined the shape of her pussy from the back and how the edges dug into her legs sinfully.
Terry cupped her chin and got so close to her face their noses touched.
“No means no. Fix your face. This the only time I’ma tell you.” Terry warned.
He let go and Aaliyah took her time sitting back. The oysters arrived and she forgot all about Terry’s words when the smell of melted garlic butter wafted her nose. They both tucked into their food after ordering their entrees.
“It’s so quiet. That’s how you know we were starving.”
Terry gave Aaliyah a playful smile, “burned too many calories.” Terry’s shoulders bounced as he laughed.
“How am I supposed to keep up with you?!” Aaliyah whisper–yelled.
“Says the woman that can hit a split from the top of the pole to the floor.” Terry blew out air and rolled his eyes, calling her bluff.
“Shut up,” Aaliyah kicked him under the table.
She finished her drink off and swayed her hips to the music. Dasia sauntered over and offered to give her another drink. Aaliyah happily accepted.
“How much can you squat?”
Terry licked butter from his lips and flashed Aaliyah a handsome smile.
“Depends. If I’m being spotted, about four hundred. Alone? I can do about fifty pounds less.”
“Dayum,” Aaliyah giggled at how loud she said that, “no wonder why you like to pick me up so much.”
Terry’s eyes crinkled as he laughed.
“You somethin’ else, girl.”
“And you love it.” Aaliyah sassed with her light and flirty voice.
“I do.”
Terry reached beneath the table and brought Aaliyah’s feet in his lap. He stroked the tops of her feet while sipping his beer, never taking his eyes off of her.
“You’re so attentive it’s intense,” Aaliyah blinked away from his face when Dasia returned with another drink, letting them know that their food will be out shortly, “You gotta stop looking at me like that, it’s making me wet.” She whined.
Terry stroked his bottom lip with his thumb before biting it.
“Not with those ‘come fuck me’ eyes on you, ma.”
Aaliyah swirled her straw around her drink as she bat her lashes at Terry. The table rumbled from Aaliyah’s phone vibrating with an incoming notification, she grabbed her phone and flipped it over. Terry downed the last of his beer and placed the glass on the table, tapping his chest with the side of his fist after releasing a muffled burp.
“Excuse me…”
Aaliyah appeared bothered by whatever was on her phone. Terry furrowed his brows at her change of demeanor. He watched her exhale and her shoulders collapse.
“Everything okay?”
Aaliyah gave him a phony smile, “Yeah.”
“You look like you just got the worse news of your life.” Terry chuckled, despite his sudden worry for her, “Talk to me.”
Aaliyah seemed to veil her true emotions with yet another beautiful smile.
“Nothing! Just got a reminder about an upcoming exam I have yet to study for. This semester has been kicking my ass.”
From the way the corners of her mouth wrinkled as she reached for her drink, Terry knew that something troubled her. And it wasn’t anything to do with a curriculum.
“You’re almost there, baby. Before you know it, you’ll be a college graduate. Can’t wait to see you walk across the stage.”
She gave Terry a timid smile while swirling her ice around her glass with her straw, “I was ready to give up so many times. You don’t even know.”
“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams. It’s not about perfect, it’s about effort. You bring that effort every single day in my class and I’m sure in your other classes. That’s where transformation happens. You trusted yourself and now look.”
Aaliyah appeared delighted by Terry’s words and whatever previously attempted to anger her, suddenly disappeared.
“You’re so sweet, Terry. Where have you been all my life?”
“Maybe if I hadn’t moved to Fayetteville I’d still be here. I would have fallen for the majorette girl with the pretty smile and long hair.”
“And I still wouldn’t have made it easy for you.” Aaliyah teased.
“If you ain’t notice by now, I love a challenge.”
Her merry laugh made him laugh.
“Another Abita Amber?”
Terry handed over his empty beer glass and grabbed the new one, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to Dasia. Before she could walk away, their food was on its way over on a serving tray. The spices wafted Aaliyah’s nose and her stomach instantly grumbled. Terry had a loaded po’ boy in front of him with perfected deep fried shrimp spilling over the top of the flaky sub roll. He squeezed it with his fingers, a satisfying crunch sound following. Aaliyah forked the flaky red fish and leaned in to smell the garlic mashed potatoes and collard greens.
Terry didn’t waste time eating. His mouth opened wide and he took a big bite out of his po’ boy, mayo painting the side of his lips. Aaliyah reached forward and thumbed away the mess on his face, sucking it off her thumb with a smirk. Terry chuckled at her with so much admiration in his greenish–hazel eyes. He shared some of his shrimp with her and Aaliyah fed him so collards. Two drinks in, and she was already feeling tipsy. She couldn’t help but giggle at anything Terry said.
“What’s funny now?” Terry questioned with an exasperated smile.
“Those big ears of yours.”
“HA,” Terry leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling, “So, you got jokes?”
“They’re so cute. I love them.”
“That squeaky laugh you got, sounding like a chipmunk.” Terry quipped.
Aaliyah tossed a crumbled napkin at him that Terry caught in his hand.
“You know you love my laugh!”
“It’s music to my ears, mon amour.”
She beamed at him.
———
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The spot they were going to wasn’t far from their hotel but Terry still wanted to drive just in case anything popped off. Aaliyah slid into the passenger seat and Terry shut the door behind her. She decided to wear the same stilettos from their romantic dinner date and she paired it with a skin tight, body con dress that left nothing to the imagination with its sheer, glittery material. Terry had to help her into the dress. Aaliyah painted her lips fire engine red and her hair fell over her shoulders and to the middle of her back. She touched up her edges and added a little pomade to ensure she didn’t sweat them out.
Terry was dressed in a cream colored polo with sleeves that fit snugly around his biceps. The first few buttons were undone, giving a peek at his gold, micro cuban link. He paired it with snug black slacks and black loafers. This random spot they decided on had a dress code of no sneakers, sandals, and athletic wear. Aaliyah had to do some social media digging to find the perfect spot that catered to black people and played black music.
Terry wanted a live band at first but Aaliyah insisted that she wanted to shake ass to trap music and pussy rap. Aaliyah needed some tissue to clean up a little lipstick. She opened Terry’s glove compartment and sitting right before her eyes like a beacon light was a Glock 19. Terry settled into the drivers seat and Aaliyah shut the glove compartment quickly.
Terry glanced over at her, before his eyes fell to the glove compartment. Aaliyah looked at him with a slight smile and nervous eyes. Terry reached over and opened the glove compartment, the pistol right where he’d left it.
“You needed something outta here?” Terry questioned.
“Just some tissue,” Aaliyah replied softly.
Terry shifted things around until he found a box of Kleenex. He handed it over to Aaliyah before tucking his pistol away so it wouldn’t be visible.
“Sorry ‘bout that, baby.”
“It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting to see that there.”
Terry started up his car while Aaliyah busied herself with making sure her makeup was perfect.
“If you feel uncomfortable with it there—”
“It’s okay, Terry,” Aaliyah glanced over at him with a laugh, “It’s actually kinda sexy.”
Terry elevated a brow and slowly his lips turned up into a smile.
“I bet you look sexy when you shoot.”
“Don’t boost my ego now,” Terry chuckled, “I could show you sometime? Take you to the range.”
“I always wanted to go.” Aaliyah replied with excitement.
“Then I’ll take you. It’s a date.”
“So, camping,” Aaliyah counted off on her fingers, “The gun range…”
“And many more.”
They locked eyes and Terry reached over to rest his hand on her thigh. He stroked it with his thumb.
“Almost there, about ten more minutes.”
Aaliyah grabbed Terry’s hand and slipped it between her legs. Good thing they were at a red light. He looked at her with a bite of his bottom lip. His fingers grazed bare pussy lips.
“Oh, you’re in trouble. You’re in trouble.”
Aaliyah giggled to herself. Terry was dead serious.
“This dress barely covers that ass and you decide to wear no panties? You serious?”
“I thought I was you nasty little slut?” Aaliyah replied with a bat of her lashes as she twirled hair around her finger with faux innocence.
“I’m a have to keep a close eye on you. Let some nigga find out you ain’t got nothing on up under there.”
“Isn’t that what makes it fun? And I’m yours, remember?”
Terry’s jaw clenched. His hand tightened on the steering wheel. He adjusted his hips in the seat and gave Aaliyah one penetrating look that shook her core.
“Be a brat if you want to, Aaliyah.”
Aaliyah spread her legs to show Terry just how good her pussy looked. He gave in and looked down between her legs. He huffed with a shake of his head.
“What was that about being a brat again?” Aaliyah replied with a teasing smile.
“Damn, that pussy look good…”
“Here,” Aaliyah touched herself and gathered some of her wetness on her fingertips, “You wanna taste?”
Eyes still on the rode, Aaliyah rubbed her pussy juice all over Terry’s lips. He grabbed her hand and sucked on her fingers. Aaliyah watched Terry lick his lips.
“That should hold you over until later. I plan to sit on that pretty face of yours.”
“And I’ll happily be your favorite seat for as long as I’m living and breathing, baby.” Terry responded with a hand to his chest and an enduring smile.
They finally pull up to the nightclub. Some spot tucked away beneath a tangled freeway and overlooking an outstretched parking lot. Cars, trucks, motorcycles; any form of transportation looked oddly placed in various spots with empty spaces in between. Terry reversed into a spot to the left of the entrance.
A lineup of club-goers waited to get inside. Some people lingered on the fringes or smoked whatever enhanced their vibes. Terry hopped out and made his way around to open Aaliyah’s door. He stood in front of her while she took her time raising from her seat since her dress had ridden up. Terry’s dour eyes never left her face. He held out his hand and before Aaliyah could walk away he gripped her hand tighter. Aaliyah watched as Terry checked her out from behind, ensuring that her dress covered her ass. She giggled at his fixed gaze and he popped her on the ass to silence her. Wasn’t shit funny.
Ubers and Lyfts dropping people off at the curb. Two Beefy bouncers checking IDs and turning people away, refusing to argue with them. Each time the doors opened, Strobe lights were pulsing from inside. Terry had a hand on Aaliyah’s waist as he guided her to the back of the line that grew smaller and smaller. Aaliyah’s stomach fluttered when Terry placed her directly in front of him and wrapped his arms around her waist.
She peered up at him, a drastic height difference between them even with her heels. He caught her staring and gave her a furtive look with a soft smile. The stiffness of his shoulders and the snug hold he had on her let her know Terry was on go for anybody that so much as looked at her, breathed her air, or touched her.
That brought her back to the bachelor party. The way he almost broke that man’s wrist. The glint in his eyes. The unblinking stare and stolid expression. There was no doubt in Aaliyah’s mind that Terry could do damage. He didn’t play about her. She bounced in his arms, her booty cheeks clapping against his crotch to entice him. She could hear a bounce mix from inside the club.
The line pushed forward and when they made it to the front, Terry released Aaliyah so she could sift through her bag and grab her ID. They displayed it to the bouncers and then the pitch black door opened, a blazing heat billowing out along with the stench of hookah smoke and alcohol. They were ushered inside, Terry’s hand on her back as they disappeared beyond the doors.
Dim lighting.
Black speakers and a stage.
Bars with seating and an area of small round tables and stools.
Waitresses dressed skimpily with glowing trays of drinks or carrying empty bottles and glasses back to the bar.
A row of shot glasses being filled one by one.
Bartenders rushing to keep up with orders.
Bottles of alcohol lining a mirrored wall behind the bartender.
Bins with lemon and lime wedges, cherries, and other garnishes.
Multicolored straws, empty beer cans and bottles, sprayers and beer taps.
Sinks loaded with ice.
Carefully layered drinks in martini glasses.
Coffee mugs and highball glasses.
Spilled drinks on the floor and wet marks on the bar.
A line at the bathroom.
A dance floor packed like sardines and a DJ booth surrounded by men.
Birdman and Lil Wayne– Stuntin’ Like My Daddy had the whole place jumping off. The loud bass and booming speakers vibrated their inner ears as they cased out the spot to find seating. A drunk couple stumbled from a table shrouded in a faint magenta lighting from an overhead lamp. Terry ushered Aaliyah over quickly before anyone else. As they approached, a waitress covered in barely anything sauntered over to snatch up the used Hookah. She noticed Terry and Aaliyah approaching and gave them a smile before doing a quick and effective wipe of the table. Terry dipped his head as a ‘thank you’ before helping Aaliyah into her seat.
Terry settled across from her and leaned in to speak with her over the loud music.
“You want me to get you a drink?!”
“Please!” Aaliyah shouted back, “Two shots of chilled Patron and whatever else!”
“Aight,” Terry left his seat but before he disappeared into the sea of sweaty, dancing people, he gave Aaliyah a look and gestured for her to call him if anything pops off.
“I’ll be fine, Terry! I’ll be right here waiting!”
Terry walked off, gently pushing past people to get to the bar. Aaliyah swayed her hips in her seat, her legs looking shiny and glazed beneath the lights. The song switched up to Gucci Mane- On Deck and as Aaliyah watched the dance floor, she noticed a group of men strolling and throwing up hooks. An eruption of cheers drowned out the music the more they moved in sync.
Meanwhile, Terry was leaning against the bar, his hazel eyes searching. A young woman with sandy brown locs that touched her waist and an all black body con dress on that hugged her plush waist and wide hips made direct eye contact with Terry. She stepped around another bartender to get to him.
“How you doin’ tonight! What can I get you?”
“I’ll take four shots of patron! And uhhh…get me a lemon drop but with patron instead of vodka.”
“COMING UP!”
She winked at Terry before working on his drinks. Terry glanced over towards the table and all he could see was Aaliyah’s legs peeking out.
“Do you need help carrying these drinks?! We can bring it over!”
“Yeah, could you? We’re at that table over there,” Terry pointed out where they were seated, “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all! I’ll have one of our girls bring it over!”
Terry gave her a thumbs up before paying cash for the drinks and leaving a tip. Turning, he started cutting through the sea of people until he felt a hand grip his arm. Terry turned and looked down into the eyes of a random chick that he damn sure didn’t know or recognize. Politely prying her hand off, he continued towards the table. Once there, he noticed a man trying to make conversation with Aaliyah.
“Hey,” Terry approached with charged energy, “Can I help you with something?”
The man stood at about 6’0 with an airbrushed hairline and a crudy ‘fro. Fake diamonds dangled from his neck, wrists, and fingers. He wore his skinny jeans below his ass and a graphic T-shirt with a classic rock band he most likely didn’t know a thing about was two sizes too small on him. He sized Terry up with the whites of his eyes red.
“This yours, Playa?”
Terry blinked at the man with a deadpan expression before tilting his head around to check on Aaliyah, a flare in his eyes.
“Did he say something to you?”
“He can’t catch a hint,” Aaliyah replied with furrowed brows.
He could see the tension in her body and the discomfort in her eyes. Terry straightened up and his eyes flicked down at the man, glaring at him. The man somehow began to understand the severity of his situation if he so much as sad another word out of line.
“Off limits, my fault bruh,” He brought his hands up in surrender, “Don’t want no trouble, Big Dude. You got a fine lady. I was just giving her a compliment.”
The man left like a fire had been lit under his feet. Terry’s hard, unwavering eyes tracked the movements of the man until he was nowhere in sight. Aaliyah grabbed him by the hand and stroked his skin. She smoothed her fingers over the protruding veins in his hand and up his arm. Terry finally pulled his gaze away and looked down at her.
“Sit. He’s gone.”
Terry moved leisurely until he settled across from Aaliyah. The same waitress that cleaned the table minutes prior came over to greet them and placed their drinks on the table.
“Thank you,” Terry slid two shots and a lemon drop over to Aaliyah, “Why didn’t you call my phone?”
“He had just shown up when you walked over, Terry.”
Aaliyah grabbed Terry’s hand and leaned forward. She blinked at him slowly while kissing his fingertips.
“Relax,” she brushed his fingers along her cheek and down her throat before fitting his fingers around it, “I’m yours…and you’re mine. I don’t want another man but you…another dick but yours…”
Even over the music loud enough to burst your tympanic membrane, Terry caught on to every word and gripped her neck a little tighter. He pressed his thumb against her pulse point, watching as Aaliyah’s sultry lips parted and a slight gasp echoed across the table.
“I love how crazy your eyes get when you’re ready to fuck a nigga up,” Aaliyah dropped her eyes to stare at Terry’s lips.
“Your fault, baby. I don’t play about you…”
Terry let go and his jaw clenched as he raised a shot glass to toast with Aaliyah. They clinked glasses, tapped it on the table, and drowned it in one gulp. Aaliyah grimaced and Terry’s face remained stern with probing eyes. Aaliyah pressed her lips together and clenched her inner thighs to suppress the throbbing sensation in her clit. She trained her eyes to stay locked on his even through the intensity. His prolonged gaze created a heat that tickled her flesh and the beginning effects of the alcohol didn’t help calm her arousal.
Aaliyah teased her red lips with the tip of her tongue before gliding it between her teeth to entice him. She flicked up a single brow suggestively, letting him know that she was enjoying their little game of staring at each other to see who would look away first. Terry sat back and folded his arms over his chest, his hands gripping his biceps on either side. He cocked his head to the left and his bottom lip slowly dragged between his teeth.
Feeling bold, Aaliyah brought her fingers to the top of her dress, gliding them over the top of her dress. Her girls sat up and a mountain of cleavage teased him. Terry’s eyes slanted, a sign that he was turned on. Aaliyah giggled at his lack of control before revealing her left breast. She glanced around quickly before her eyes were back on him, pinching her stiff nipple before covering herself back up again.
Aaliyah snickered at Terry being slack-jawed.
“I win,” Aaliyah bounced in her seat with glee before bringing her lemon drop to her lips, “Better luck next time, huh?”
Terry gave Aaliyah a debonair smile, “You don’t play fair at all.”
Haha, bitch, I’m big dude
Phew, phew, phew, frrrt
Haha, phew, phew, phew, bitch, I’m big dude…
Terry chuckled at Aaliyah throwing her hands up and giving her seat some attention with that beautiful ass of hers. She moved her hips in a circle and stuck her tongue out. Terry listened to this song often in the gym. The vulgar Memphis Rapper with his cocky lyrics and a nasty beat had the walls rattling. It was banging hardcore and Terry couldn’t help but make his shoulders jump and sway his head in time to the beat.
“Let’s dance!”
Aaliyah was out of her seat and between Terry’s legs in an instant. She spun around and arched her back, plopped down on his lap and rocked her barely covered ass on his crotch. Terry shifted his body to face her from behind and he gripped her hips as he stood. Terry surged his crotch against Aaliyah’s ass with so much force that she almost stumbled forward. Her eyes sought his, and Terry simply smiled at her.
It was hard to really groove with so many people around them but Aaliyah’s gregarious personality and spunky attitude somehow made others clear the way to give her room to pop out. Big Boog’s voice and energy on the trap song had Aaliyah giving Terry a performance he was happy to see but also the possessive side of him clocked the hungry eyes of other men. Aaliyah bent over and grabbed her ankles, gyrating her thick cheeks all on his clothed dick. The weight of her backside colliding with his third leg had him groaning under his breath.
The distant voices ehoing dayum and whew shit had Terry craning his neck to see who was speaking on his woman and her acrobatic skills.
His. Terry loved the sound of that.
She tossed that ass back on him and he made sure his dick remained tucked between. His big hands had a vice grip on her hips. Aaliyah lifted, turned, and shimmied her hips to fix her dress. She pressed the front of her body against his and Terry rocked his hips to match hers. Reaching around, Terry double cuffed Aaliyah’s booty and she brought her hands to his waist.
Her hips started moving in a slow whine and Terry pressed his forehead against hers with a slight smirk painted on his lush lips. Already he could feel himself sweating. The DJ switched back to some bounce music and Aaliyah jumped back into an energetic twerk that Terry could keep up with. Aaliyah had her hands on her knees and made that ass clap at an uptempo that had Terry bending his knees to thrust his hips against her.
Everyone on that dance floor were practically body to body. Cheap cologne, fruity perfume, Paul Masson, sweat, and not so pleasant aromas circulated the humid air. The strobe lights covered the entire club in blue light. Terry placed his hands on Aaliyah’s shoulders while she continued to pop that pussy on him. She looked back at him, hair in her face, drenched, and her dress past her ass. She stood tall and made her cheeks bounce and Terry grabbed onto her wrists, holding her hands in the air.
“You’re the best fuckin’ dancer I ever seen,” Terry licked the shell of Aaliyah’s ear, “Got that shit moving.”
“Glad you can keep up with me, Professor.”
The music slowed down after a few more mixes and Twista-Wetter started playing, some people cleared the dance floor and returned to the bar while others went on a restroom break. Terry led Aaliyah closer to their table and then her turned her back towards him. One hand slithered around and pressed between her legs while the other stroked her waist. Aaliyah followed his two-step, her eyes closed as the lyrics started.
callin' ya daddy, daddy
Can you be my daddy, daddy
I need a daddy, daddy
Won't you be my daddy, daddy
Come and make it rain down on me
Come and make it rain down on me
“I want another drink.” Aaliyah said.
“Me too,” Terry wrapped an arm around her waist, “But damn…you feel good against me. I don’t wanna move.”
Thankfully, the waitress responsible for their table was heading over. Terry ordered four more shots and another lemon drop. Aaliyah dipped her body low on to the floor, her hand gliding down Terry’s abs and over the tent in his pants. She gabbed onto his thighs and stared up at him while bent at the knees.
“Get up here,” Terry said, his eyes low from the contact high he was experiencing from the weed.
Aaliyah cupped her hand over his hard dick and pinched his shaft on either side, testing how rigid he was. Her mouth formed an ‘O’ and she flicked her eyes up at him.
Terry mouthed, “Get up.” As a warning.
Aaliyah giggled as she stood, Terry reaching around to pop her on the ass. The waitress returned with their new drinks and they took a seat again, drinking until they were both buzzed enough. Terry watched Aaliyah dance for him when the music switched up again. His little performer. He could tell from her unsteady gaze and sloppy movements that she was good and tipsy. Terry came to the rescue with her purse in hand and left money on the table before leaving with Aaliyah safely in his arms.
———-
Ding.
Terry stopped Aaliyah as they stepped off of the elevator and onto their floor. Dim lighting from the chandelier above them created shadows across their bodies as they walked. Aaliyah began to complain about her feet, so Terry stopped her. He crouched down and started removing her shoes, kissing her inner thighs for good measure. Back on his feet, he carried her shoes and when they finally reached their door Aaliyah used the keycard.
Terry held the door open while Aaliyah made her way inside.
“Drink some water,” Terry handed Aaliyah a water bottle, “and take your clothes off.”
“We fucking?” Aaliyah asked with a smile.
“Whatchu think?”
Aaliyah drank the entire bottle of water down before tossing the empty bottle in the trash. She removed her hoop earrings and placed them on the table next to her bed.
“Help me out,” Aaliyah pinned her hair up and made her way over to Terry, “Undress me please.”
Aaliyah positioned herself in front of the mirror and Terry crept up behind to help her out her dress. His finger tips tugged her dress over her shoulders agonizingly slow, his eyes trailing a path down her spine. Aaliyah slipped her arms out and Terry helped her get it past her hips.
“You think you have the energy to go all night?” Terry questioned as he stared at Aaliyah through the mirror.
“I’m willing to test that out.” Aaliyah replied, glancing up at Terry over her shoulder with a playful smile.
Aaliyah turned to face him, taking off his shirt. Terry raised his long arms above his head and his shirt went up and over and to the floor. His gold chain sat against his pecs and Aaliyah started unfastening his pants. Terry kicked off his shoes and then his eyes locked with Aaliyah’s as she dug her fingers into the waistband of his pants and briefs, pulling both down in one motion. He kicked out of them and then removed his socks.
“You’ve managed to give me a perfectly romantic weekend. A first for me.”
Terry brushed his knuckles across Aaliyah’s cheeks before cupping her face, “Because you’re so special…”
Terry adored Aaliyah. A sudden timid silence filled the space between them and Aaliyah dropped her eyes as she smiled.
“Look at me, pretty baby…”
Aaliyah met his gaze and Terry’s hands fell to the back of her thighs.
“You know I gotta fuck the shit outta you and make you take this dick like a big girl for having my pussy out tonight, right?”
A gasp escaped her lips as Terry lifted her up and Aaliyah circled his waist with her legs. One hand on the back of her head, arm around her waist, he carried her over towards the patio doors. There was only one lamp light on, half of the room pitch black and the other ignited. Aaliyah circled her arms around his shoulders.
They kissed with teeth clashing, tongues touching, and lips sucking. Terry’s dick kept bobbing up and down, smacking Aaliyah against her fat lips. Terry’s lips attacked her jaw, her throat, and her chest. While he sucked her nipples, Aaliyah started bucking her hips against his stiffness.
“You want me to fuck you like this? For everyone to see? Huh, nasty girl?”
“Yes!”
“Oh? That was an eager response,” Terry kissed Aaliyah again, “Let’s see if this pretty pussy can handle it.”
Terry used his immense power and with one arm he lifted Aaliyah sideways so he could use his other hand to point his leaky tip between her pussy lips and in that good, wet hole. A creamy noise filled the room when his tip finally made its way inside and down to his balls. Terry wasted no time fitting Aaliyah down on that big daddy dick. Her ass smacked against the glass and her heels dug into his lower back. Terry flexed all the muscles in his body to slam up into her.
“SHIT DADDY!”
Aaliyah’s back pressed into the glass and Terry kept her legs wide open the more he buried himself inside. He formed a frown on his face and his brows pinched together. He looked riled up and Aaliyah could feel it all.
“Babyyyyyyyyyy…” Terry moaned.
“That pussy good?” Aaliyah responded between soft whimpers.
Terry molded his lips into hers.
“So fuckin’ good. You’re makin’ a mess on this dick, girl,” Terry spoke against her lips, “wetting this dick up, baby. Got my shit so hard…baby, I can’t stop fucking you…”
Aaliyah couldn’t handle the way his oceanic eyes looked at her. She stared down at his good pipe going in and out of her creamy hole with a perplexed look. No matter where her eyes went, she was spellbound by his hypnotic eyes or his thick, long dick. An airy sigh escaped her mouth when he started beating it up at a pace that had her toes curling.
His big, strong body had her sandwiched between the glass and his rock hard torso. Their mingled sweat mixed with the smell of her wet pussy clouded her senses. Terry had his hands planted on the glass, her shoulders draped over his arms, and his hips a never ending piston. Her languid eyes locked with his and he gave her a jeering smile. He was so fucking fine it was unfair.
“Oh…Terry…oh, Terry…oh shit…right there…make me cum…Terry…Terry…Terry—”
Aaliyah gave his chest weak slaps and the back of her head bumped the patio door behind her. Her thighs squeezed his hips painfully and her eyes crossed.
“Good girl, that’s how you cum on this dick.”
Terry kissed Aaliyah, his lips ravishing her mouth while the aftershocks of her orgasm settled. He wasn’t finished with her yet. Terry held her tight and then he opened the patio doors. He placed Aaliyah on her feet and turned her, leaning her over the railing. It was loud enough below from the all the commotion and their patio light wasn’t on.
He slid in from behind and Aaliyah looked back at him with a quizzical expression. Terry slipped his fingers through her hair, gripped the high density strands, and started delivering precise thrusts. Anyone in the rooms beside them could walk out and catch them. A bystander from below if they were close enough could hear their bodies moving.
Terry couldn’t get off that pussy if he tried. The mixture of shock and lust on Aaliyah’s pretty face was yet another weakness. Her soft ass thrown back on him. The way she took his dick, all of his dick. Her sweet moans in his ear.
“Work this pussy, daddy!”
Terry covered her mouth and blew her back out further. His sweat fell over her back and his muscles ached.
“Daddy got you baby…uhhuhhh…such a good girl…”
Terry almost came with the way Aaliyah’s walls gripped him with her release. As he pulled out, Aaliyah squirted on his dick and all over the patio floor. Terry’s forehead fell against Aaliyah’s back and she let out an exhausted laugh. Aaliyah spun around and dropped to her knees to clean her mess off. Terry flashed her a tender smile while she throated his dick.
Aaliyah popped her lips off and rotated her head to drag her lips along the sides of his shaft to clean up her cum. She even dipped her head lower to slurp on his balls. His nuts drew up tight and the veins along his shaft engorged with blood. A familiar tickle behind his navel alerted him that he was ready to cum.
No. Terry needed to be inside his pussy again. He needed to cum in his pussy.
He gained enough strength to pick Aaliyah up bridal style and walk with her back inside.
On the bed, Aaliyah sat up on her side and Terry got behind her, lifted one leg, and entered her gushy pussy again. His fingers strummed her clit as he sucked on her neck. Aaliyah kept her leg in the air for him. He slowly fucked her and brought her to climax again.
“I love the faces you make when you cum all over this dick…”
“It’s so big inside me…I can’t stop cumming on it…”
“Good,” Terry thrust into her and held his dick there.
“Fuck,” Aaliyah trembled, “So fuckin’ thick in my pussy…”
“I know baby…I know…”
“You must want me to feel it all week,” Aaliyah released a moan and met Terry’s searing eyes. She crooked her head and puckered her lips. Terry captured her soft lips with wet smacking and spit swapping, “Oh, shit…”
Tears rolled down and over her nose. Aaliyah chewed on her bottom lip. Terry would slowly withdraw his hips and then push back into her to the hilt with a sharp thrust. He leaned over her to watch her face.
“Terry, fuck,” Aaliyah was drooling on the pillow, “Baby you gotta take some outtttt…”
Aaliyah tried to scoot away. Terry pinned her down beneath him and as soon as he put her ankles over his shoulders he had his fists rammed into the mattress and his hips working to fuck her good. Aaliyah tried to close her legs, Terry growing hostile and pinning her ankles back.
“Fuuuuuuck!” Aaliyah pushed at Terry’s chest, “So much…dick…fuck…”
Terry smacked her hands away and gave her a pointed look, “Aaliyah…please keep still before you make me mad, baby.”
His words were soft spoken but the way he looked down at her from that angle, repeatedly clenching his jaw, Aaliyah didn’t have a say in the matter. Terry was back inside of her like it was his second home.
“Keep your hands down…do what I say, Aaliyah.” Terry warned.
His stern voice and killer strokes had Aaliyah crying.
“Why you fuckin’ me like this?” Aaliyah questioned with passionate concern, “Why you fuckin’ me like this, Daddy?”
Her head extended back and Terry almost lost his damn mind from the pressure around his dick when her soft, inner folds began to pulsate. He lost all control of his neck and his head fell forward against Aaliyah’s shoulder.
“Fuck, ima cum so deep in this shit…”
“Unh! Uh! Oo! Oh my god! Terry!”
Terry hissed with his final strokes. He dropped down and painted Aaliyah’s walls white. His arms shook and he had to roll over before he fell on top of Aaliyah and crushed her. Terry mushed his face against her sweaty neck and brought his hand between her legs. With two fingers, he pushed them inside of her to feel his cum.
Aaliyah was spent. She could barely keep her eyes open.
“You did so well, good job baby,” Terry kissed along her sweaty skin, “Wore me out…”
Aaliyah mumbled something Terry couldn’t decipher.
“Wanna take a bath?” Terry asked with a tired voice.
“Mhm…”
Terry opened one eye to look at Aaliyah. He stroked her hair from her face. She opened her eyes fully and turned her head toward him. A smile spread across her face.
“You complete me.” Aaliyah spoke so low.
“I complete you?” He repeated.
“Mhm. Me,” Aaliyah pointed to her naked chest, “And you,” she pressed the same finger against Terry’s chest, “We go together.”
Terry laughed joyfully, “Yeah? Boyfriend and Girlfriend?”
Aaliyah simply nodded her head with her eyes closed and a faint smile.
They rested in the bed for another thirty minutes before Terry finally got up to start the bath. He ran a warm bath and let Aaliyah relax for a bit. Back in the room, Terry lifted her up from the bed and brought her in the bathroom. He carefully placed her in the tub and then positioned himself behind her. Terry washed her and pressed kisses against her cheek.
Holding her in his arms, he couldn’t ignore the feeling. The intensity. He wanted and needed this woman.
———
It was a cooler day on Sunday. Aaliyah took a nap in the passenger seat of Terry’s hellcat. She was scrunched up in a ball, frizzy hair flying into her face from the afternoon air billowing in through the windows. Terry rolled to a stop in front of her shotgun house and turned his car off. A crisp, white T-shirt with a pair of bootcut, light wash jeans was his attire. Aaliyah shifted and then she peeked her head out from beneath the hood of Terry’s all black hoodie.
“Wake up sleeping beauty. Home sweet home.”
Aaliyah stretched and rubbed her eyes before staring at her home awaiting her arrival.
“Do I have to?”
She poked her lip out at Terry. He stroked it with his thumb.
“I don’t have anything to do I can come in.”
Aaliyah’s face lit up, “Oh, please, won’t you keep me company?” She asked with a deep, southern drawl.
Terry laughed, “Anything for my pretty baby.”
“You love me too much—shit.”
Aaliyah clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled with embarrassment. Terry pinched the bridge of his nose and cracked a smile.
“That just…sorry,” Aaliyah slapped her forehead, “I meant to say…like. Oh god—”
“Aaliyah, chill. It’s okay.”
She covered her face with her hands and Terry unbuckled his seatbelt so he could lift her up and over into his lap.
“I’m falling for you deep, baby…ain’t nothing wrong with what you said.”
Aaliyah sat her chin on Terry’s shoulder.
“I’ve never been treated like this…ever.”
Terry stroked her back with his hand.
“I want you to let go of the past. I’m here to show you that you deserve love, Aaliyah…you’re an amazing woman.”
“You really don’t care that I shake my ass for a little cash?”
Terry shook his head and chuckled, “NO.”
“I’m nervous, about the wedding…”
Aaliyah sat back and looked down at Terry. He furrowed his brows with concern.
“If you think I’m gon’ sit back and let anybody talk disrespectful about you…”
Terry tilted her chin up. He closed the space between them and gave Aaliyah a slow tongue kiss. When Aaliyah broke the kiss first, Terry stroked her cheek with his thumb.
“You have nothing to worry about. I promise.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s get outta this car.”
Aaliyah crawled back into her seat and Terry exited the car. As he got out, he noticed a woman standing across the street, peeking at him from behind a light pole. Her hair was all over her head and she was dressed in a loose fitting flannel shirt with an equally ill–fitting faded dark green T-shirt beneath it. She wore denim cut offs and flip flops. Beneath the changes that living on the street can do to you, Terry could see that she was once a gorgeous woman.
“Terry…”
Aaliyah followed his gaze and when she realized where he was looking and who he was looking at, her entire body became stiff and her face fell, becoming expressionless.
The woman finally stepped out from behind the light post. She wrapped the flannel around her narrow waist as if she were exposed. Glancing both ways cautiously, she stepped down from the curb and walked over towards them. Aaliyah jumped into action, walking around the car with brisk movements. Terry didn’t intervene, but he kept an eye on the woman and around him. He could tell from the shifty look in her eyes that she was watching out for an unwanted guest.
“Mama, I thought I said you can’t come around unannounced?” Aaliyah fussed.
“I know, I know, I–I saw your car in the driveway. I know it’s–I’m only askin’ because I owe some money—”
“Stop,” Aaliyah didn’t have the energy to go back and forth with her mother, especially when she had such a great time with Terry, “You can’t keep showing up with your hand out. I gave you money. I refuse to continue funding your habit.”
“Aaliyah, please,” her mother grabbed onto her hand, halting her from leaving, “I know I’m no good. I know you hate me. But if I don’t pay him back, he gon’ kill me.”
Terry stood taller when he heard those words. He made eye contact with Aaliyah and he could see the inner battle between wanting to help her mother and setting boundaries. He approached them, her mother watching him with paranoid eyes.
“Who you?” She questioned rudely.
Aaliyah crossed her arms over her body and hung her head in shame. Terry glanced at her before returning his attention to her addict mother. She licked her cracked lips with uneasy eyes.
“My name is Terry. I’m Aaliyah’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.”
Aaliyah appeared miffed that Terry introduced himself to her mother as her boyfriend. She remained stiff and icy despite the sweltering heat in Baton Rouge.
“Didn’t know you had a lil’ friend, baby…nice to meet you.”
Her mother scratched her neck, a nervous tick. She tried adjusting her attire in front of Terry, a despondent expression on her face.
“Likewise, ma’am.” Terry replied politely with a faint smile.
“Hope you treating my baby girl with some respect and love. She deserves it,” her mother sought out Aaliyah’s eyes with her sorrowful ones, “I know I ain’t been the best mother…”
“Yes, ma’am. I plan to.”
Her mother nodded her head, eyes shifting from left to right. Terry looked at Aaliyah again, a feeble smile on his face as he caught her eyes.
“Listen,” Terry reached into his back pocket, pulled out two, crisp hundreds, and held it out for her mother to take, “Will this take care of it?”
Aaliyah snapped her head up, “Terry? Don’t—”
Her mother went from dispirited to elated in a matter of seconds. It sickened Aaliyah to her core.
“Thank you,” her mother snatched the bills from Terry’s fingers so fast she could have ripped them. An artificial smile spread across her chapped lips, revealing missing teeth, “bless you, bless you, baby. Thank you for this,” she pressed the money against her chest, “Look out for Aaliyah, wil you?” She kissed the money and started backpedaling.
Aaliyah was furious.
“Aaliyah, I’m trying—”
Aaliyah was halfway to her house. She stomped up her steps and fumbled with her keys. Terry watched her mother rush off wiping her tears away with her dingy shirt. Terry took long strides towards Aaliyah’s house, skipping steps as he entered her home. He followed the sound of dishes and cabinets shutting. Terry entered Aaliyah’s kitchen, carefully approaching her from behind while she busied herself with putting away kitchenware from her dishwasher.
A gloomy silence hung in the air between them. Terry stood behind Aaliyah, allowing his presence to cover her with warmth and protection. Aaliyah shut the door to the dishwasher and gripped the edge of the counter. Since she hadn’t been home, the house felt stuffy and hot. Aaliyah stepped back and lifted Terry’s hoodie up and over her head. A thin, spaghetti strapped tank in light gray was revealed. It matched her gray leggings.
Terry took the hoodie from her. Aaliyah had her head turned away, hiding her face from him.
“I’m sorry.” Terry spoke.
“You should have let me handle it.”
“I know it ain’t my business…I couldn’t shake the fear in her eyes.”
“She’s an actress,” Aaliyah said sarcastically as she turned to face him fully, “She played you like she played me plenty.”
Aaliyah laughed despite her growing frustration.
“She’s been lurking around my house all weekend. I have surveillance cameras all around my house and I kept getting alerts to my phone with her knocking on my door and peering in my windows.”
“That’s why you looked like that when we went out for lunch yesterday.” Terry said.
“I didn’t want to talk about it. My mama is a trigger for me.”
For once, Terry didn’t have the words. He felt he’d crossed a line with Aaliyah. Things were still so fresh for them.
“I’m really sorry, baby,” Terry extended his hand to grab Aaliyah’s.
She stared down at their connected hand and the way Terry stroked hers with his thumb.
“…My mother will never change,” A single tear rolled down her cheek, “And I’m so embarrassed that this had to be the first time you two meet.”
Aaliyah slipped away from Terry and out of the kitchen. Terry leaned against her octagon–shaped kitchen island with deep–green marbling, white hued veining, and a polished finish. It matched the surrounding counter tops in her small and intimate kitchen. Terry found himself traveling down her narrow hallway that led to her bedroom.
Aaliyah was crying on her bed covered in clothes. She hid her face against her pillow. Terry tapped the open door with his knuckles. Aaliyah’s sniffles silenced and she looked up at him. She sat up, wiping the tip of her nose with the back of her hand.
“Can I come in?”
Aaliyah replied with a nod.
Terry stepped over the threshold that separated him from the hallway and her. He kicked his shoes off and not wanting to sit on the bed with his outside clothes, he took off his jeans. Terry walked around her canopy bed and pulled the black drapes back before crawling onto the bed. He settled on his side next to her.
“You don’t have to talk about it, Aaliyah. But I’m here to listen…”
Terry couldn’t fight the urge to stroke away her tears with his thumb. Aaliyah’s wet lashes blinked at him as she rested on her side facing him.
“Blue magic and Luster’s Pink Hair Lotion…”
A crease formed between Terry’s brows as he waited for Aaliyah to speak again.
“Isoplus Oil Sheen…I can still smell it…taste it almost. My childhood memories. It just…reminds me of how exciting it used to be sitting in the kitchen the night before Easter Sunday. My mom would have the radio on and I would be sitting in her designated styling chair while she put a hot comb to my hair. I wanted to be a hairdresser like her…”
Aaliyah continued, “I was so amazed at the hair shows. Blown away by my mama’s talent. You couldn’t tell me shit ‘bout my mama…she was everything to me…but then my daddy died…and…that light in her just…burnt out. Despite the way she allowed her depression to neglect me…the one thing that made me so angry with her…was when our home got taken away and she…she let them people throw away our memories. All the pictures…all the CDs…all my toys…all the hair products…I resented her then. Wild, right?”
Aaliyah’s red–rimmed eyes sought out Terry’s. Somehow, seeing her cry made his eyes sting as tears threatened to fall. He blinked rapidly to control it.
“Nothing can help her? Not rehab? Not family?”
“She exhausted rehab. My family disowned her. For a while I’ve been the only one to look out for her. Like I’m the mother,” Aaliyah released a furious chuckle, “And nothing I did meant anything to her. I’m so tired. And it hurts me because I want better for her. I miss her. But I just…Terry, I can’t do it—”
“It’s okay, Aaliyah. It’s okay…You’ve done all you could, baby. I wish she didn’t fail you…C’mere…”
Aaliyah buried her face against his T-shirt and as she cried, the scent of his fresh linen and sweat felt like comfort. His bulging biceps hugged her and he rubbed soothing circles into her back.
“I don’t want you to feel ashamed or embarrassed. If anything, she should…”
Terry kissed the top of Aaliyah’s head.
Aliyah hiccuped between cries. Terry let her release it all, uncaring that the front of his shirt was soaked. Her warm breath against his chest felt good and if he could remain silent and calm with her forever like this he would. Terry glanced down at her after some time and she was asleep against his chest. The crying exhausted her. Plus, from their weekend filled with sex, eating, and drinking, Aaliyah didn’t have proper sleep. Neither did he. Terry checked the time on his bronze and black Movado Watch with a gold plate and a cognac leather strap.
It was a little past five in the afternoon.
Terry eased from Aaliyah’s bed and covered her with her sheets. He left her to rest while he decided to look through her fridge for anything to cook for dinner. He opened her pantry and found some golden potatoes and in her fridge he found some andouille sausage. Opening her freezer, he noticed a pack of boneless, skinless chicken thighs. While his pretty girl slept her worries away, Terry made his way around her kitchen with his tear–stained T-shirt and Calvin Klein’s.
Smothered potatoes with chicken and smoked sausage was on the menu.
@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @blackerthings @deja-r @kanafunee @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @dremmmm @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @kokokonako @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @playgurlxoxo @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter
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COULD IF YOU WOULD .ᐟ
✩ — the two times aventurine referred to you as his "work wife" and the one time he seems to have left out the "work" part.
✩ — includes: aventurine x f!reader. fluff (?), crack. cw: ooc!aventurine probably, very messy and i kinda hate this piece LOL. wc: 820. reblogs are very much appreciated !!
✩ — note: trying to write aventurine as his usual self now and not some delusional hc that i have of him yay! (i went through hell and back writing this just to get the dialogue match his way of speaking.) pretend that the ipc holds company dinners btw 🥹.
you don’t really know how it started. but maybe it’s because your co-workers tease you both too much about how you and aventurine act like an “old married couple” due to your constant banter, or maybe it’s because of aventurine’s (annoying) flirtatious remarks towards you.
however with the constant jokes and all, even aventurine got infected because there’s times when he would refer to you as his “work wife” as well. the first was when you were out at a company dinner. working in the same department with aventurine didn’t really help your… predicament, but for some reason, it wasn’t so bad.
“so how are you two love birds doing?” a co-worker asked, clearly drunk from the way they slurred their words and how red their face was slowly getting. aventurine just laughs at them—casually swinging an arm and resting it on the back of your chair. “my work wife here seems to be doing well, right?” he glances at you, a whiskey glass in hand, as he rotates it with his wrist. he was simply met with a glare in return. people wouldn’t care if you responded anyway because they’re too drunk to even remember this in the morning.
the second time was when you two got stuck in an elevator ride. and the worst part? aventurine purposely pressed at least four floors below your destination on the panel just so he could chat with you. “wouldn’t it be a nice idea to ditch work for today?” he asks, his eyes focused on both of your reflections from the elevator’s doors.
“you’re insane.”
“my dearest work wife, you wound me! i was simply asking you out.”
“no one would ever agree if you asked them in that way.” you refused to make eye contact with him.
“if i asked normally, then where’s the fun in that?”
when the elevator hit the current floor, you made your exit despite the floor not being your destination yet.
of course, he had called or referred to you as his “work wife” many more times than this. however, as for the third one, it was when you were assigned to work with aventurine to dig up some information in a bar of sorts. a bar is quite a dangerous place in general, but you both had no choice but to split up so work would be faster.
that is, until you started being pestered by some stranger at the bartender’s counter.
no matter how many times you told him to go away (in reality, you really wanted him to go fuck off already), he was just being too persistent. but you couldn’t do anything because it would most definitely cause a scene—and you don’t want that. it was starting to suffocate you, how the stranger kept getting closer.
“dear, who is this?” you knew that voice from anywhere. you looked over to your side and saw aventurine next to you, already wrapping his arm around your waist as he looked at the stranger from head to toe. after telling him that you had no idea, you swore you could’ve seen his jaw clench for a quick second. playing along was mandatory with how the situation is turning now, even if aventurine had to pretend that he was actually your partner (well, technically, he is your partner for this assignment).
“who knew that there was actually someone indecent enough to hit on someone’s wife?” it was weird. you always felt icked by how aventurine kept calling you his “work wife." but this time, it was weird. and you hate it.
because you had a revelation that you liked the fact aventurine called you his wife at this very moment.
aventurine has a way with words. he always does; he knows what to say to rile up someone—to provoke them. it was no surprise that the stranger became another one of aventurine’s victims when it came to his provocative terms. yet, it was all over in a blink of an eye because the guy retreated. (you weren’t able to understand what aventurine specifically said to him, but does it really matter at this point?)
“are you alright?” he asks.
“yeah. thank you.”
“how about we hit the hay for tonight? i managed to gather some information anyway.”
“agree, i was able to catch some as well.”
“really now? we make a great team, don’t we?”
“don’t let it get to your head, aventurine.”
he chuckles. “i was serious, though.” you look at him, confused. “about…?” aventurine leans to your ear and whispers low: “we could actually get married if you would let me do the honors of asking for your hand.”
thwack!
“ow! hey! i was only kidding! okay maybe i wasn’t but—hey! that actually hurts a lot now!” he yelps as you slap him by the shoulder repeatedly. “you’re insane, i tell you!”
maybe being called aventurine's work wife had its perks after all.
#( writings )#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#aventurine honkai star rail#aventurine x reader#aventurine#x reader
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☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 13
Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader
written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!
warnings/labels: it's a pretty fluffy chapter today, but let me know if I missed anything!
wc: 1.9k
Chapter Selection
Stella did my hair and makeup, and lent me a little black clutch. She instructed that I wait until I had my dress on to put the earrings and hair pins in, but made sure I knew exactly where to put the pins, before letting Jason whisk me away to the manor. My dress and shoes were already there waiting for me with the other girls, and when we arrived I was quickly pulled into a large closet away from Jay. Stephanie grinned, sticking her tongue out at him as she declared; “no boys allowed!”
It struck me how Babs and Steph effortlessly brought me into the group; everything felt so natural, like we'd gotten ready for dozens of these events together.
“What is this one for again?” Stephanie frowned, picking between two pairs of earrings.
“It’s the JTCF fundraiser. Hence why Jason couldn't bow out this time.” Barbara chuckled.
“JTCF?” I tilted my head.
They looked a bit startled; “... The … Jason Todd Children's Foundation? … The charity Bruce started after Jay …”
“Died.” I finished the sentence for them, nodding. “Gotcha, … what does it do?”
“Mostly it funds after school activities and tutoring programs in Crime Alley.”
“That's nice. … How does the gala help?”
“It’s basically a thank you gala for the foundation’s biggest donors, but there's also a silent auction, and a limited number of tickets available to buy, if you have way too much money and didn't think to give enough through the year to warrant an invitation.” Stephanie rolled her eyes.
“Jason tries to get out of going every year, but it always somehow works out to be his turn.” Babs chuckled.
“Of course, he has to make an appearance at the party for the foundation that carries his name. Who else is going to be there?”
“From the family? Just us, Bruce, and Tim. And I think Tim’s bringing his boyfriend.”
“No Cass tonight?” I looked in the mirror, shaking my head a bit to make sure the garnet pins were secure.
Steph chuckled, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. “Nah, Cass doesn't do too many of these events; they drain her social battery. There has to be at least two Wayne's at every event, so they take turns, and the rest of us get roped in on a rotational basis to keep them sane through the night.”
“They dislike the galas that much?”
Babs shrugged. “It's just … a lot. People have very specific expectations, and it gets exhausting. Plus, there's always a better than average chance that some Gotham villain will get it in their head to harass the guests.” She adjusted her navy blue skirt over her legs, making sure it wouldn't get caught in her wheels.
“Yeah, is there a plan for that?” I frowned a bit.
“Follow Jason, he'll keep you safe. But if you get separated, if you're near the ballroom entrance follow the crowd. Security will funnel the guests to the panic room. If you're closer to the bar, get behind it. There's a button under the counter next to the sink, a panel in the floor will open and you can hide in the cellar.” Babs nodded, smiling a bit.
“... Well what about you? What if you're near the bar? Will you be able to get down there?”
“No, but being the commissioner's daughter I tend to be one of their ‘high profile targets’ anyway. I make an excellent distraction to buy other guests time to get to safety, and a Bat or two will show up before anything serious happens.”
I frowned deeply. “... The plan if someone attacks is for you to give yourself up and hope Batman shows up in time?”
“If I have to…. It's only happened a few times, hun, and they were specifically looking for me. Waiting it out is often the most practical option, and results in the fewest casualties.”
“I hate that.”
“Don’t worry, I can take care of myself. They always underestimate the girl in the wheelchair.” She smiled brightly, punching her hand for dramatic effect.
“... I guess.” I frowned more. Babs seemed perfectly ok with it, but the idea that she wasn't offered the same protections as the rest of us pissed me off.
Steph smiled softly and gently squeezed my shoulder. “Hey, don't worry about it, ok? Two-Face held up the last one, so we're due for a villain-free gala!”
I chuckled, nodding, and finished placing the last pin. “What do you think?”
“Stunning! Ready to show Jay?” I nodded, and the girls led me out to the main foyer. Tim was hugging a blond man who just arrived, and Jason was fiddling with his tie.
Stephanie cleared her throat; “Jaybird, I hope you're ready for this!”
He looked up at us, freezing when our eyes met. I giggled softly at the look on his face, spinning once on my way over. His eyes trailed down my dress and back up to my face.
“... Dear God~” He took my hand, kissing my knuckles delicately. “How did I get so lucky, huh?”
I giggled, beaming up at him; “Trust me, I'm the lucky one.”
Tim cleared his throat; “just making sure you remember; we are right here.”
Jason grunted at him, cupping my cheek. His fingers slid back a bit to touch my ear; “... These are beautiful, where'd you get them?”
“Jewelry store at the mall.” I smiled softly.
“Hm … they're perfect. … Who got them for you?” He raised an eyebrow.
I blinked a bit, slightly taken aback by his tone; “... Jay, are you jealous?”
He blushed a bit, frowning; “no! …”
“Then why does it matter?” I smiled gently.
He frowned, whining a bit. “... I guess it doesn't?”
I chuckled gently, pulling him into a chaste kiss. “Good. Cause there's no one else I want to be here with.”
He smiled shyly, kissing back; “… You're still missing one thing though.” I tilted my head, curious, and he slid his hand down my cheek to the side of my neck.
“... Jay?”
He chuckled softly, offering me a long velvet box. “Don't worry, I didn't spend any money.”
I slowly took the box. “... Did you break any laws?”
He laughed softly, kissing my forehead; “not this time~ open it already~”
I slowly slid the box open, revealing a gold necklace with teardrop shaped garnets adorning it like leaves. “Oh… Jay, it's beautiful~ … where did you get it?”
He chuckled, taking it out of the box, and slid it around my neck, carefully clasping it in place. “It was Grandma Wayne's.”
I blinked repeatedly, looking up at him and hissing softly; “Gr- … J- Jace, is this Martha Wayne's necklace???”
He chuckled and nodded. “Before you panic, Bruce gave his permission.”
My fingers came up to caress the cool metal on my collarbones. This one necklace was probably worth more than my entire life, and Bruce was ok with me wearing it??? Jason chuckled softly at the look on my face, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Princess?”
“I just … I'm in shock.” I leaned against him. “... Bruce really said it was ok?”
“Swear to god; he handed it to me himself.” Jay nodded, smiling softly.
“... Ok.”
“... Tim?” I frowned, looking out across the dance floor.
He looked over at me, clearly a bit annoyed that I was interrupting his whispered conversation with his boyfriend; “hm?”
“... Am I being a weird, possessive girlfriend, or does Jason look really uncomfortable?” I nodded toward him on the other side of the room. A woman had trapped him in conversation for the past several minutes on his way back from the bar. His face seemed tight, like he was forcing his polite smile to stay exactly where it was.
Tim inhaled in a hiss. “Oof, he's gonna snap…”
“That would be bad.”
Bernard nodded, frowning. “What's the play?”
I smiled a little; Tim had only introduced me to his boyfriend briefly, but I already liked him. “Hmm … can't pull him into a dance, he's carrying our drinks … The presumed heir to the company would probably be a more valuable social opportunity for her though….”
“... No.” Tim frowned.
“... You sure? … I wonder what Jay will say if I tell him you bought me jewelry…”
Tim made a face at me; “Wha- … that is so rude! ... Fuck… fine. But Bernard, you have to save me in five minutes.”
Bernard laughed softly and nodded. “Got it.”
Tim shook his head poutily, heading into the fray. Bernard turned to me, whispering; “you weren't actually going to tell Jason, were you?”
“I mean, I'm not gonna lie to him, but I also wasn't planning on making a big thing about it.”
Bernard laughed and after a moment I followed Tim around the dance floor. As I approached, I heard the woman tittering at something Tim said. I slid in next to Jay, resting my hand on his shoulder blade. He stiffened slightly under my touch before realizing it was me and relaxed. He offered me my drink and I took it, gesturing for him to follow me away, leaving Tim to distract the girl.
“What did you have to promise Tim to get him to take my place?”
“Nothing I wasn't planning on giving him in the first place.” I sipped my drink, smirking a bit.
Jason chuckled, resting a hand against the small of my back. “That's my girl~”
I smiled softly, leaning into him a bit. “You doing ok so far?”
“So far …” he sighed softly, his thumb stroking my back absentmindedly. “... I'd much rather be home with you though.”
“We can go as soon as your social obligation is fulfilled.”
A look of relief passed through his eyes; “you're sure?”
“Of course, I want you to be comfortable; I know you're not comfortable here, so I'm not going to draw this out any longer than necessary.”
“But it's your first gala…”
“So?”
He looked a bit bewildered; “... So, … don't you want the full experience?”
I shrugged, smiling softly; “is this going to be my last gala?”
“... No, probably not.”
“Then why would getting the ‘full experience’ matter more than your comfort?”
He blinked a bit, smiling softly. “... You're wonderful.”
“Oh sweetheart, … the bar is on the floor for you, isn't it?”
He grunted softly, pulling me closer to whisper in my ear; “let me guess, you'll fix that for me?”
“Inch by inch if that's what it takes.” I turned to kiss him gently, squeezing his hand.
A cleared throat nearby drew us apart, and Bruce raised his eyebrows at us. “Jason, you can't just cling to the walls all night.”
“I'm not clinging to the walls, Bruce. I'm standing with my girlfriend while she finishes her drink.” Jay gestured for me to take the last sip, and I did. He took the glass, setting it on a high table; “now, if you'll excuse us, I promised her a dance tonight.”
He took my hand, leading me onto the dance floor. I rested my hand on his shoulder as he took my waist. Nerves fluttered through my stomach and chest; we had practiced the steps a bit, in my living room, but it was very different with a gown on in front of a room full of people.
“Hey, there's only you and me here, ok?~” Jason smiled gently, holding me close. I nodded, gently squeezing his hand as he guided me to spin.
Everything felt so perfect and magical, like nothing could go wrong as long as I was in Jason's arms. The world fell away as I looked into his eyes, almost drowning in the adoration pouring from him. I was so enraptured by him, I almost didn't hear the windows shattering behind me…
Next ->
Divider by: @saradika-graphics
Taglist (open):
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#fanfic#fanfiction#dc fanfic#dc#jason todd#red hood x reader#jason todd x reader#first person pov#wayne family adventures#no y/n#Can I Get Your Number?
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Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song
Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 6.1k
Summary: What do you call a deaf pirate? Not 'Siren Food' apparently, which is really sort of hilarious when you've been kidnapped by a hungry Siren. Not for the Siren though—he's definitely not having a good time.
A/N: *rushes in at the 11th hour* Happy Mer-May!! I've been back and forth with clinical rotations and also working on some commission things and Leona's Part 4, but like, it's a fanfiction holiday. I couldn't miss out. And for one of my favorite tropes nonetheless. So here we are.
[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]
There was a legend that floated throughout the Sage Island Seas of the Pirate With No Ears. Which was ridiculous—half because such a tall tale managing to survive so long and so wildly really showed just how pathetic the rest of the gossip around here was, and half because you still had ears. They just didn’t work very well was all.
Some said you’d been deafened by a prowling sea sorcerer who had tricked you into trading away your once keen sense for some mortal foible or other. Others whispered about how you’d been trapped in an ice cavern, surrounded by electric eels and sharks, and that the only way you’d been able to weasel your way out was by cutting off your own ears so that you’d have enough wiggle room to escape from your bindings. Which made absolutely zero sense at all.
In reality, all you’d done was stand far too close to a canon for far too long when you were far, far too little, and ever since all you could hear was the dull ringing of post-battle silence. Sometimes it was a bit sad. When the waves crashed against the shore, or when the gulls flew overhead—you were sure all those things sounded very lovely. You remembered music and laughter and sometimes they echoed in your head at a distance—a memory not quite forgotten but certainly fading at the edges. But other times, like now, where your fellow crewmates were bawling into their ales and wailing about lord knew what… well, it was always nice to find a silver lining in these sorts of things.
One of the tipsy lads tottering around the deck of The Rose Queen tripped and landed against the wood with something that looked like it’d be a very loud smack. Your brain helpfully filled the silence with some nonsense noises and park-play-style laughter instead. You watched Cater stumble by out of the corner of your eye. He patted your head and said something that twisted his mouth into a gaping ‘uuuuu-eeeee-oooo’ before he puttered away to leech off First Mate Clover instead. Ace threw a drunken arm around your shoulder and burbled something against your cheek that popped with the scent of stale booze, and you decided to pretend that you were as alone at sea as your muted senses would like to think.
The party raged on long into the evening and you stared down at the rabble contentedly from your perch in the crow’s nest. They were a good bunch—dullards though they may be. You’d heard (hardee har har) that they were planning to raid the Port o'Bliss, and something must have gone terribly right. You only really hung around to scrub barnacles off the paneling and keep an eye on the tides well enough that Deuce wouldn’t run the lot of you ashore, so you weren’t really sure how the whole ‘pirating’ business actually went about. But clearly they were doing a pretty good job of it.
You rested your chin on your crossed arms and sighed into the salty breeze. The night was warm and pleasant, and before you knew it, you were nodding off against the rough fabric of your sleeves. You weren’t quite sure how long you spent dozing there tangled in the ropes of mast, but it was long enough that by the time you snorted back awake the festive lights had dimmed to embers and most of the crew had sidled away below deck to either keep drinking themselves blind or collapse in a pool of their own colorful vomit.
There was a lone figure swerving towards the bow—precariously close to the railing for someone so clearly unsteady on their own legs, if you did say so yourself. You squinted suspiciously at his mused lavender hair, not entirely sure you recognized the head bobbing around below you. But perhaps The Rose Queen had picked up some fresh recruits at the Port, or maybe the crew had gotten a bit too booze happy with some dye. Purple Hair leaned up against the rails and tipped forward on his toes like he was thinking about diving in, or maybe barfing. Either or, you sighed and shimmied your way down to stop him from tumbling into a watery grave.
“Oi!” you called, the shout vibrating up and out of your throat, and the kid jumped half a foot in the air. “What do you think you’re doing? Get away from there. Riddle’ll have your head if we have to send out the rescue rafts this late at—”
The kid turned to face you with wide, wide, glowing eyes. Your own went round as dinner plates as you watched his too-dark pupils pulse like drumbeat. They were so bright, practically illuminating the whole of his delicate face, but there was no light to them. Matte and sleek like a shark’s eyes.
He shouted something at you so whip fast that you couldn’t even begin to make sense of, and then he was glancing nervously back and forth between the roiling waves at his back and the encroaching deckhand at his front—making all sorts of nonsense gestures that had you sighing behind gritted teeth.
“Look,” you said, interrupting whatever indiscernible gibberish he was spouting, “I don’t know who you think you are. But you’ve picked the wrong ship to try and—I don’t know—seize? Pirate? You can’t pirate a pirate ship! But either way, you—”
Then the kid opened his mouth like he was screaming, and you frowned again. There was strange prickle along your arms that had goosebumps crawling up your skin and the hair raising at the back of your neck, but you shook it off and moved forward with another weary sigh. You pulled a length of rope from the belt slung around your hips and held the limp bundle of salt-soaked mesh up like a threat.
“I will throw you overboard. And hogtie you first,” you promised cheerily. “So you actually sink.”
Purple Hair just looked like he was trying to scream louder, and you were sourly tempted to stick your fucking tongue out at him and make petulant ‘nyeh nyeh nice try’ noises at him, but then there was a heaviness behind you. A creak in the wood that you could feel if not hear. You rolled out of habit—tumbling across the deck just in time to avoid a nasty swipe along your back. And oh no. The thing crawling up over the railing was worse than any lavender would-be ship thief. The black tipped claws and flared fins were telling enough, but the sharp-toothed grin was somehow more so. It tilted its unnaturally lovely head at you and spoke politely—clearly and very, painfully, slowly.
“What’s—this—perhaps—” you were able to vaguely make out. Maybe. The dark and your panic were both a terrible hindrance to putting shapes to sound. His lips curled into something wicked before parting far more smoothly than the younger man’s had. Singing. It was singing, not screaming. Hauntingly green eyes glowed bright and you felt the tunk tunk tunk beneath your feet of the rest of the crew starting to move around beneath you. Around you.
Then there were more of them—crawling up over the railings, trilling into the night air. All far too lovely and far too sharp to be anything but predators. The moonlight illuminated their fangs and scales in a ghostly white glow. There were shivers running along your spine, but otherwise nothing but silence echoed through your head. Small mercies. You watched several of your fellow crewmates rush out of the cabins only to double over with their hands clasped over their ears. Others stuttered and tumbled forward towards the railings as if they were being dragged along like puppets on a string. You cursed and ducked between them—looping your rope around their legs as you went and tugging them to their knees like a line of falling dominoes.
You let your hapless comrades collapse to the deck and curled the last throws of rope around your fists. You were decent enough with a knife when it came to dueling an unmoving, completely unaware foe—like a barnacle or some rusted over door hinges. But real people? Sirens?Fucking literal blade-tipped-merfolk straight out of every sailor’s nightmare? No thank you. So the teeny blade stayed sheathed at your hip and you dove into the fray to find something rope-wrangle-able.
At the other end of the bow, you watched Purple Boy straighten from a crouch. There were new, silvery blue scales crawling up his neck and forearms. He was still tottering around on legs that he clearly wasn’t all too used to, and you watched as the little guppy started to make a furious beeline for Captain Rosehearts. Which—no. Absolutely not. You were never one of those pirates who was like ‘oh, Captain, my Captain~’ but Riddle was good. He was tough, and taciturn, and could throw a tantrum that could bring down an entire harbor. But he’d written out all of his ridiculous six hundred rules by hand so that you could have them. And the teeny furrow in his brow as he staunchly taught himself hand sign after hand sign so that he could yell at you in earnest was so endearing that you’d protect that little firecracker for as long as you breathed.
So you went after Lavender Head, and then of course Lavender Head turned and tried to shout at you all over again. When that continued to not work at all, the Siren began to backpedal in earnest. He turned his head and squawked at whoever was around to listen, but in the chaos of the attack there didn’t seem to be many of his pod free to lend him a hand.
You descended on the little snake, rope at the ready and perfectly happy to make sushi out of the fucker, when something big overshadowed the both of you. Another Siren crested over the side of the ship, larger and clearly more impressive than the rest of its kin. Which matched your stupidly terrible luck just fine. Ah, yes, Mister Big Bad. Please. Go for the deckhand rather than the literal trained mercenaries less than ten feet away. Brilliant. The Siren bared its fangs like some great, terrible, beast and tore into the paneling with its curved claws as it attempted to drag you down to your watery grave. You cursed, and kicked, and yelped in a panic when the thing managed to get one of those cold, pale hands around your ankle.
Despite the fact that all of it surely happened in less than a few seconds, your descent seemed to progress in steps. First, the Siren tugged you over the side. Second, you smartly flipped the loops of your rope up to try and lasso yourself a handhold. Thirdly, you outright missed the ship and instead tangled the spools of thin rope all around your Murderer To Be. Said Murderer’s eyes widened in shock as your unintentional trap wrapped the both of you up like a mess of bugs in a spider web. And finally, the pair of you crashed towards the churning ocean in a knotted-up heap and slowly sank beneath the waves.
.
.
You rubbed the grit and salt from your eyes and sat up with a groan. Where were you? Not too far out at sea, hopefully. Washing up ashore had been nothing short of a miracle, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth if it meant you got to avoid becoming chum for another day. The sand beneath your fingers was soft and white, and it slipped beneath your palm like water. You moved to push yourself to your feet and froze—a blur of amethyst swiping out and knocking you back onto your ass with a splash.
You spluttered and spat, and had just barely managed to flip yourself over like a turtle who’d been upended on its back when you caught sight of the absolute last creature in the world that you’d ever wanted to see again.
The big Siren had washed up nearby.
Because of course it had.
The creature narrowed his eyes at you and immediately set about lashing his rope-twisted tail against the sand like a rattlesnake. He bared his pointed teeth in a hiss and you were dowsed in a barrage of saltwater ammunition.
“Stop! Stop!” you begged, spitting out wayward chunks of seaweed, and shells, and gods knew what else. “I get it! I won’t come near you, jeesh! I wasn’t planning on it to begin with!”
The Siren curled his lips unpleasantly, putting that wonderful row of dagger-like pearly whites on display. He spat something completely indiscernible—the line of his mouth so harsh and flat that you couldn’t have even begun to pick up the shape of things if you tried—and you scooted as far back as you could without toppling yourself over again.
He dug his clawed hands into the sand and said something else, just as clipped and tight. You assumed it was an accusation. You were very used to recognizing the glare that accompanied those. When you didn’t respond, his brow tugged down low and he snapped something else—this time jabbing those pointed, black, nails in your direction. Ah, so definitely a complaint then.
You cocked your head at him out of habit and that griping turned into a snarl so ferocious that you could feel it racing up your skin like static. Which was definitely pretty trippy.
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you told him honestly. Which just made the spiked fins flatten all along the side of his head and another wave of those zippy sneers dance up your arms. “Literally,” you tried. “I—”
The Siren opened his mouth and that sparky static from earlier amplified into something near painful. It was strong, and prickly, and left the imprints of invisible shackles all along your already aching joints. You could feel his voice carrying on the breeze—brushing against your cheeks and playing with hair. Thin, icy, fingers digging their way into your brain and yanking. But there was something missing from all that ethereal hypnotism. Something pleasant and sweet to complete the circle of temptation. A voice, you’d guess. There had to be a call after all, or else it hardly mattered how deep and all encompassing the need was to answer.
When you didn’t immediately, like, fall to your knees in subjugation or drown yourself in the inch and a half of tepid water pooling at your hips, the Siren’s eyes dimmed with something that almost looked like hesitance. His brow pinched tight and he parted his red lips wider. A seagull dropped from the sky. Three different crabs crawled out of the sand to bow down.
“I can’t hear you!” you tried again, loud enough to have your teeth aching. His mouth went wider, and an entire ass tuna beached itself to flop pathetically near your ankles. “It’s not a challenge!” you wailed. “My ears literally, actually, do not work, you fucking overgrown anchovy!”
The static disappeared all at once, and the Siren’s lips slipped into a small, surprised sort of ‘o.’ He blinked his too-long lashes at you and stared you down like you were some sort of escaped alchemical experiment.
“There,” you huffed. “Finally.” And then went quiet and a bit concerned. Because apparent Song Immunity or otherwise, the thing was still hugely impressive and scary looking. His claws definitely wouldn’t have any problem picking the leftover bits of you out of his teeth, and you knew well enough that if he dragged you into the depths with that powerful tail of his, there would be no resurfacing.
The Siren too was using this time to glare at you like you were somehow a threat to be taken seriously. Which was half flattering, half pretty funny.
“Well…” you said after a long moment. “I should get going, I suppose.”
You made your way to your feet in the mucky sandbar and started heading off to see where you’d been stranded. You could feel the Siren’s heavy gaze on you the whole while, and decided he was probably trying to figure out if you’d taste better paired with seaweed or a nice jellyfish spread.
.
.
The pair of you had been stranded on a small, crescent, islet that couldn’t even rightly call itself an island. You were able to walk from its curling east to west coasts in just under fifteen minutes, and that was at a meandering pace where you stopped to peer into all kinds of little grottos and rocky formations. There was some vegetation at the heart of it—short palm trees and tufts of grassy knolls—and thankfully a few deep divots that had collected some still rainwater, but otherwise it was entirely boring and stupid. Not even any weird tortoises or anything meandering about to make friends with.
By the time you circled back around to your original stranding point, you had fully expected the Siren to have flipped you the metaphorical bird and fucked off back into the ocean, never to be seen again. Instead, he was still stretched out in the shallows of the bay, carefully fanning his long tail out in the seafoam and picking through the mess of it with his pointy claws.
He reminded you of a beta fish—with wide, flowing, fins that looked far more like silk than skin or scales. The tips were a deep, plum purple that gently faded from near black to violet and finally a vivid sort of lilac at their junction. The bulk of his tail looked like it could be made from literal gemstones with the way it shimmered in the morning light (gems that had perhaps been a bit dinged and/or literally torn out in chunks from where he may or may not have been smashed into the rocky shore curtesy of your terrible hogtie, but who’s to say).
There were jagged cuts lining the right half of his pale torso. They oozed a strange sort of silver ichor that was probably some kind of mystical merman blood, but you absolutely refused to get close enough to try and find out. The fins framing his pelvis were tangled and thin looking, and the sweeping ones that trailed all the way down to the tip of his tail were battered and torn. Clearly pulled to bits by your handy, dandy lasso skills. Which… was still tied up at the base of them. Huh. You’d assumed he’d be able to slice through all that knotwork without issue. But maybe…
You approached the Siren cautiously. You caught the exact moment he must have realized you’d returned because the fins along the sides of his head flattened like the ears on a pissy cat and he turned on you with a very dramatic snarl that probably sounded all sorts of menacing.
“Hello,” you greeted, and the merman spat something that you assumed was probably a very polite ‘fuck right off.’
You nodded because, well, fair enough. And then pointed to his injured fins and the waterlogged ropes still twisted up around the heart of them.
“I can get that off if you promise not to eat me.”
He shouted something no doubt very indignant and then was back to hissing at you. Which definitely didn’t sound like an agreement not to immediately murder you on the spot.
“Alright,” you shrugged. “Your loss, I suppose.”
Well, your loss, really. Keeping a wounded Siren around was just asking for trouble. Their pods were viciously protective for one thing, and that wasn’t even taking into account the poachers and rivals who’d be more than keen to come sniffing after the fresh trail of blood in the water. Maybe you could find a big stick or something and just, I don’t know, push him back into the ocean and be done with it.
The thought must have shown on your face, because suddenly he was smacking his tail against the sandbar and spitting something that you very much assumed was a demand along the lines of ‘you are going to take accountability for this.’
Which absolutely no way in Hell. He’d kidnapped you sort of, so that made you his problem, thank you very much.
You felt your stomach gurgle, and it must have been pretty loud going off the stink eye he sent your way. You turned your nose up at him and went about collecting the various critters that had been washed ashore in his tenor’s tantrum.
“Thanks for the food!” you chirped petulantly as you worked on scaling the tuna with the knife from your belt—making long, pointed, eye contact as you did so.
The Siren sneered at you and went back to grooming the shredded ends of his fins.
The rest of the afternoon became a sort of pissing contest between the two of you to see who could earn the title of Bitchiest Beach Bitch. You thought you were definitely winning with the whole ‘eating something that could have been his long-lost cousin’ thing, but then he went and swamped the entirety of the small fire you built (and all of said ‘cousin’ being cooked over it) with one sweep of his tail, so now you were at the very least tied. You set up a nice little shaded hutch out of driftwood and ferns to escape the sun, he called down seagulls to shit all over it and pick it to pieces. He tried to roll around to reach some of the tighter fibers tangled in his pectoral fins, and you chucked rocks at him until he reared on you with a scream that had all the hairs on your arms standing on end. Y’know. Perfectly mature things like that.
That night you curled up beside a tall, jagged rock just at the outskirt of the bay—determined to get some shut eye but to also keep within range of your newest pest in case he decided to try and pull something sneaky. But every time you’d just about settled in to sleep, the shallow tide would lap against your toes in harsh shush shush shushes that had you furrowing you brow until you finally had enough and sat up to see what all the hubbub was about.
The Siren was tossing around in the shallows like a fish in a net—throwing his long body against the bindings and flailing like his life depended on it. And as much as he’d definitely deserved to get caught up in your unintentional hogtie, watching something as large and no doubt powerful as he was wriggling around like a worm on a hook was… Well. Something soured a bit in your gut as you watched him give one, final, great buck against his bindings before collapsing back into the shallows in a circle of seafoam. He panted against the surface of the water, the tips of his pale hair dripping down in a curtain around his haggard face, and you could see a fine tremor running along his shoulder blades.
You turned back to your rock and ground the heels of your palms into your eyes, fighting the absolute batshit insane urge to feel bad for a monster who had literally tried to drag you to your death less than twenty-four hours ago.
The water was calm and still for the rest of the night.
.
.
The next morning, you picked up a few of the crabs who had crawled up to shore and went about getting them clean and fit for eating. You glanced at the Siren, who was busy preening over his janky fins and fussing over his hair. It was entirely unfair that you probably looked like a half-drowned rat, and yet this creature that wasn’t even meant to exist on the surface was somehow managing to put himself together well enough to rival the courtesans you’d seen meandering around some of the wealthier coastal towns.
You stared at the crabs. There were three of them. It wasn’t really sharing if it was meant to be a bribe to keep him from eating you whole. Or at least, that’s what you reassured yourself as you cautiously tiptoed back to the water’s edge.
The Siren swiveled on you with a snap of something that looked sort of like a ‘What?!’ and you held up one of the gutted crabs in offering.
“I don’t know if you all eat fish or whatever, but…” You waved the limp crab awkwardly.
The Siren rolled its purple eyes and said something fast and sharp that you couldn’t really parse. Something, something, not, something, something, are crust—Something, something, are you that stupid? (you recognized the impressions of those words well enough to mouth them even in your sleep).
“Look, do you want it or not?” you interrupted, and he bristled—all those delicate, violet, fins flaring up like a porcupine’s spikes.
The Siren crossed his arms stiffly and pointedly turned in the other direction with a mutter of something you had no hopes of catching.
“Whatever,” you snapped and went to bite into your meal. Only to immediately forget that these pointy little fuckers still had their shells on them. You reeled back with a yelp as you stabbed a million, tiny, carapace-shaped holes in your tongue.
The fucking Siren had the gall to turn back around so that you could see him laughing at you.
.
.
That night he was back to flipping around in the shallows like a miniature hurricane.
You counted out the waves sloshing against your heels, telling yourself you’d intervene in his self-destructive tsunami once it hit one hundred. And then it became two, then three. You shifted hesitantly to peek over the rock’s edge and watched him curl into himself like some terribly wounded creature before shaking himself out of the fog of pain that had clearly settling over his nerves, and then continued with his nonsense.
You hurled a big, pink seashell at his head and he whipped on you like a rabid dog, practically foaming at the mouth and raring for a fight. When he lunged forward with the waves—seething with hatred, and blame, and nearly crashing onto his already shredded front in the process, something angry in your snapped.
“Look, fish face! You were the one who attacked me! You!” you demanded, stomping perhaps a bit closer than would be rational. “So stop acting like I’m some scheming shithead who was planning to trap you like this from the start!”
The Siren roared something back and slapped his tail in the surf. Static zipped along your cheeks and you grit your teeth. He glared at you bitterly and then began to repeat one word over and over—slow and angry.
‘Eeeeehhh-Pppe-llllll’ said his lips. Strong and harsh with the shape of it.
And then he was back to spewing all kinds of rapid-fire vitriol that you wouldn’t have bothered to keep track of even if you could. Something in his expression shifted almost quicker than you could notice and he lifted his massive tail out of the water. He smacked the fins in your direction and pointedly jabbed a clawed finger at the creases of them—where delicate, silky, tendrils met strong, gem toned, muscle. Where the purple was light and clean. A pale, shiny, lavender. Almost just like—
“That kid?” you frowned. “You attacked me because of Purple Head?!”
He sneered again and pointedly sent a splash of seawater into your face.
“You—” you grit your teeth. “He was still attacking us first! He was going after my friend!” you snapped, kicking your own wave back. For all the good it would do. “You don’t get to act all noble and protective, and like any of that makes any difference when you all were going to eat us!”
The Siren’s face twisted up like you’d force fed him soured milk, and he looped back around with a dramatic fwoosh of water to dive into the shallows. It was maybe two or three feet deep at best, and he was barely submerged. Not to mention how utterly ridiculous it looked to see a creature that was no doubt usually the peak of grace and athleticism reduced to flopping belly first into the waves with his proverbial legs tied up behind him. But you recognized a door slamming in your face when you saw it, no matter the species. Fine. Let him be a petty bastard. He could rot away in the sandbar for all you cared.
.
.
The next day you woke up with goosebumps crawling up and down your limbs.
There were all sorts of gulls crash-landed in the sand around you and more sad, little, sea creatures gasping on the beach than you dared to count. You shoved a particularly chubby octopus back into a tidepool as you passed and wondered just what sort of nonsense your co-strandee was getting up to now.
The Siren was circling the bay with his head held high above the low waves—lips parted and clearly caterwauling like a dying porpoise. The surface of the water trembled with whatever was making its way out of his mouth, and he looped and looped around the shores. It reminded you of the time you’d seen a whale calf separated from its pod. It had gotten trapped in a shallow inlet when the tides had changed, and your ship had been anchored just off the same coast. You’d watched it circle and circle, lifting its heavy snout to snort sharp jets of water into the air. Deuce had passed you a scribbled note when you’d asked him what it sounded like.
‘It’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.’
There was a moment where the Siren paused in his paces and tilted his head. The fins there flared out to the side, like he was listening for something. But after a long moment the spines drooped back against his damp hair and he went back to his singing an aria to no one.
‘It’s looking for its family,‘ Riddle had signed to you when you’d asked him why the calf didn’t simply leave once the tides had turned in its favor. ‘This is where they last saw it, so this is where it will stay.’
“Maybe they forgot about him already,” you mused petulantly, turning back towards the center of the islet to try and scavenge up something to eat from all the poor creatures who had collapsed beneath your nemesis’s wailing.
The bitter thought wasn’t nearly as satisfying as it ought to be.
.
.
That night, the waters were still.
You squinted suspiciously at the merman curled in the shallows of the bay. He’d pulled himself half-out of the water, resting his more human looking bulk in the soft sand as gentle waves lapped at his tail. He slept on his front with his arms crossed beneath his pointed chin—his unbound fins sticking up behind him in a way that deliriously reminded you of bedhead. You watched him carefully for nearly an hour, searching for any tightness in his muscles or change in his breathing that might indicate he was faking it. But as the evening stretched on and he never lurched awake to try and gauge your eyes out, you assumed he might actually be properly resting.
He'd been swimming in circles all day—the aborted, stuttering, beats of his bound tail looking painful even by your non-tail-having standards. Eventually the tremors along the ocean had grown stuttered and strange, like perhaps his voice was giving out on him. And once that had happened, he’d curled up exactly where he was now. And hadn’t moved since.
You stared at the Siren hesitantly. He was certainly in enough of a state that you could probably pull off that whole ‘shoving him into the depths with a stick’ thing. He’d probably just let you do it—sink to the bottom in a mess of shredded fins and tangled twine and never rise again.
You gnawed at your lip, feeling something unpleasantly hot and sticky twist up your stomach.
The knife glinted between your fingers and you thought of crying whales and of the crew that you already missed so much that it felt like a gnawing chasm had opened in your chest.
You huffed out a miserable sigh and lamented for not the first time in your life that you really were just so fucking stupid sometimes. And then you were cautiously making your way down towards the waterline and the sleeping Siren sprawled out in the sand. Slowly—so very, very slowly—you tiptoed towards the mer and tried to get a quick glance at what amounted to the worst of the damage.
The rope had been thin and long, and the more he’d struggled, the more he’d dug the twine into his fins. You reached forward at half speed and slipped the blade into one of the too-tight creases beneath the bindings. You winced a bit in sympathy at the raw, pink skin beneath. No wonder he hadn’t been able to just rip the fibers away. He’d probably just ended up tugging them over and over against the oozing wounds beneath.
The first strand broke beneath your fingers with something that almost felt like a pop. Like seams ripping on a shirt. You glanced quickly at the sleeping Siren to confirm he was still lost to the world and not gearing up to bite your fingers off at the knuckle, and then continued making your way through the worst of it. It reminded you a bit of the time Ace had accidentally snared a sea turtle in one of his fishing nets and the lot of you had spent the better part of an hour slowly working the thing free of the seemingly endless tangles. You delicately worked the tightest edges away from the harsh indentations they’d left against his scales and peeled back the muckier bits with enough gentleness to avoid mangling anymore of his already battered fins.
The last of the rope finally came away with a satisfying, wet weight and you let it fall to the sand beside you with a pleased nod. Now you could let Mister Merman swim away in the morning with no unpleasantly gross sense of moral obligation weighing down your consciousness. Maybe he’d even be thankful enough to look at you with something other than a venomous glare for once. Certainly nothing like the one leveled at you right now. And—
Oh.
You didn’t even have time to properly gasp before you were being flipped and pinned into the wet sand. The Siren loomed over you, digging his black claws into your shoulder until you could feel the first pricks of blood breaking the surface. He snarled in your face, the curtain of his pale blonde hair shadowing his eyes in something so dark it was nearly black. The brilliant purple cast off his glowing irises were like little spots of stars in an otherwise empty night sky.
He leaned forward, teeth bared, and then some sort of tight expression flickered over his face. He paused, brow tugging together steep and angry. He hunched down once more, fangs at the ready, and then ducked back out. He shook his head, like he was trying to clear fog from his brain, and then he was snapping his canines at you all over again.
The Siren reared back with a booming snarl that sent ripples through the soft tide lapping at your ankles. He turned with one, final, icy glower and dove back into the shallows, disappearing beneath the surface in a flash of amethyst scales. He flicked his tail sharply as he went, and one of the tattered fins snapped against your nose with enough of a crack to make you yelp.
You sat up in disbelief, rubbing at your aching skin and watching in outright consternation as the great predator of the oceans swam tight laps beneath the warm waters of your little lagoon—fins occasionally cresting over the surface to smack pointed fistfuls of water into your gaping face.
Deliriously, one of The Rose Queen’s hundreds of nonsensical rules bounced about your head. Happy to fill the otherwise entirely empty space behind your eyes.
‘Never save a Sea Serpent on a Sunday,’ Riddle had demanded, hands at his hips. ‘No Serpents, or Sea Horses, or Sirens to speak of.’
‘Man,’ you thought wildly, brain high on adrenaline and static as you watched one of the aforementioned Sirens swan about like he hadn’t probably just been a half second away from gnawing on your literal bones. ‘If I get out of this alive, Captain’s definitely gonna collar me this time.’
.
.
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Beautifully blind
Tech x f!reader
Rating: Explicit
Wordcount: 4.6k
Summary:
Ever since you joined the Bad Batch you had your eyes on Tech, he is everything you could possibly want, soft, intelligent, caring but also strong and protective. You’ve been flirting with him for a while without any response and gave up thinking he is just not interested in you. But one day when you are left alone working on one of his modifications on the Marauder together it turns out the whole time you were speaking a language he didn’t understand.
Notes:
I really really miss Tech in S3 so I wanted to write some sweet soft smut with him. This work is inspired by “The beginners guid to Osculation” but I took things a bit further…
It’ a first time sex fic Tech x F!reader. Reader is experienced and in love with him. There is fingering, oral (f and m recieving) and unprotected sex but also a lot of fluff. It’s my first time writing Tech and a hope he is not too OOC.
You and Tech are standing in the Cockpit of the Marauder, fiddling with some cables, hanging from a wall panel, together just as Crosshair, Wrecker, and Hunter prepare for another supply run. It's been a few rotations since your arrival here, the Marauder carefully concealed in a secluded forestry patch a few klicks away from the next settlement. During this time, you've managed some much needed repairs and some of Techs planned modifications, as well as restocking on supplies. While the last supply run was a joint effort, today you and Tech decided to remain on the ship finishing his latest project and preparing for your departure, as there's little left to gather from the nearby town. Just when they're about to leave you overhear Crosshair boast to his brothers about his plans to fuck the girl from the market again, telling them they don’t need to wait for him on the way back because he’s planning to take his sweet time with her, a smug grin adorning his face, as always and a toothpick dangling in the corner of his mouth. As they make their way out Wrecker pats Crosshairs shoulder jolting him a step forward and they all burst into laughter, leaving you and Tech alone in the cockpit.
You caught a fleeting glimpse of disappointment, perhaps even a hint of sadness, in Tech's eyes at Crosshairs words and try not to think about it too much, but you can’t ignore it, you care too much about him. After silently working alongside him for a while, handing him tools and lending a hand you approach him cautiously. "Tech," you start, "I couldn't help but notice your reaction to Crosshair talking about the girl from the market. Were you... also into her?"
"What brought you to that conclusion?" he asks hesitantly, tilting his head towards you, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.
"I saw your face when Crosshair mentioned her, you seemed disappointed or even sad," you say, breaking the uncomfortable silence that hung between you for a moment. He doesn't respond immediately, the weight of your observation sinking in.
To ease the tension, you quickly add, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business," before turning back to continue working on the panel. After a moment, Tech sighs and let’s his arms sink down, his gaze fixed on a distant point as he gathers his thoughts.
"It's not about that particular girl," he begins, his voice tinged with vulnerability, "but rather that I have never experienced the kind of intimacy Crosshair was referring to." He pauses, struggling to articulate his feelings. "It's always my brothers that succeed in getting a woman because it is extremely difficult for me to understand the subtle signs and the body language of someone I am attracted to, even if I've did a lot of research about the topic. I have accepted it but sometimes, when they brag about their experiences it’s difficult for me"
His confession catches you off guard, and you look at him with wide eyes, trying to comprehend his revelation. "Are you saying you've never been with someone... in that way?" you ask, your voice filled with disbelief.
Tech nods solemnly. "Correct, that's exactly what I said," he confirms. The realization hits you like a blaster shot to your guts – the handsome, beautiful man before you, that you’ve been admiring for such a long time, has seemingly never had the chance to experience any kind of sexual activities, and has accepted it as his fate.
"You're telling me you're a virgin?" you blurt out, startled by the revelation.
"I don't particularly like that word, but yes, that is the proper term that would apply to me," Tech responds, his expression vulnerable yet resolute. "However, to be precise, there was one incident where my brothers tried to pair me off with a woman, but I stopped it immediately, it felt extremely uncomfortable." He pauses, reflecting on his research. "For some people, it seems to be pleasant to have casual sexual encounters, while others prefer to have an emotional connection to their sexual partner. I think the latter applies to me, it needs to be with someone I know, someone I feel safe with, and am more than just attracted to in a physical way." He admit, his vulnerability shining through as he reveals, "Someone like you," the last bit of his sentence, slipping from his lips before his mind can stop him.
You almost choke on your breath, caught off guard by Tech's unexpected confession, but a giggle escapes your lips nonetheless. However, the lighthearted moment is quickly replaced by a look of embarrassment on his face. He tries to compose himself, his words stumbling out as he apologizes, "I'm… sorry,… I shouldn't have said that. Please don't ridicule me for it. I may process moments and thoughts differently, but it does not mean that I feel any less than you." He hesitates before continuing, "You don't have to say anything. I know I would never have a chance with you,"
"Oh Tech," you respond softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. "I've not been laughing at you. I just couldn't grasp what you were saying, and how beautifully blind we both seem to be. I've been into you since forever, literally since I became part of the crew, and I've been trying to flirt with you for months, but I thought you were just not interested in me, so I gave up and let you be, because I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable."
Tech's eyes widen in surprise at your confession. "I... I thought you were... maybe interested in Wrecker because you recently spent so much time together," he admits, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
"Oh, but that's just because Hunter wanted me to learn more about explosives, that's why, you know how bad I am with handling that kind of stuff," you explain, hoping to clear up any misunderstandings.
"Undoubtedly I see why Hunter ordered that, you almost killed us all on Onderon with that thermal detonator. I’m relieved to know you’re taking care of it” he says, adjusting his goggles to have a better look at you. You giggle gazing up at him, almost loosing yourself in his beautiful brown eyes.
“The thought never crossed my mind that someone like you would be attracted to me like that," Tech confesses, his tone tinged with self-doubt. "While I exceed my brothers in many aspects, this is a particular field where I never stood a chance against them. I see the signs, but I cannot interpret them. I observed that you've come closer to me, you are touching my arm and that your face has slightly reddened, indicating an accelerated heartbeat, but I don't know how to proceed with that information."
"Tech... stop talking," you hesitantly interject, inching a little closer to him and seeking his gaze. "Do you want to kiss me?"
Your heart races as you feel the tension building between you, his eyes locking onto yours, a sense of understanding flickering over his features.
"Yes, I would very much like that," he responds earnestly, his voice filled with anticipation. "I am positive that you already know that I am recording everything, but I want your consent if I keep recording. Will you let me?" he adds slightly nervous.
You nod in agreement, giving him the permission he seeks.
"Do you want me to kiss you, or do you want to begin?" you inquire, seeking his preference.
He pauses for a moment before expressing his desire for you to initiate the kiss and guide him.
With a soft smile, glancing up at him seeking his gaze you lean in and wrap your arms around his neck. Gently, you pull his head slightly down towards you, tilting yours upwards, eyes shut, closing the gap between your lips. It's a soft kiss, yet filled with a hunger, hoping to leave him wanting more. His lips are incredibly soft and your body starts to tingle a bit by the realization that you are really kissing Tech, it’s not another one of your daydreams, he is right here in your arms.
He doesn’t respond to the kiss, but he allows you to kiss him for a little bit longer and when you part, you notice his dilated pupils and feel the rapid beat of his heart against his chest. ”How did that feel?” you whisper, as your eyes meet, arms still wrapped around him.
"I very much enjoy how my body reacts to you, unfamiliar but very pleasant," he admits, his voice tinged with awe and slightly out of breath.
"Do you want more?" you offer selfishly, glancing up at him with a smile. He nods eagerly in response.
Encouraged, you kiss him again, now with a bit more passion. And this time he instantly responds, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer, his lips eagerly moving against yours. You brush your tongue against his lower lip and he opens up letting you in. You can barely control yourself anymore and when your tongues meet you feel the heat rising in your body, pooling between your legs. “Tech..” you moan softly, not parting the kiss.
Suddenly, he picks you up maneuvering you to the other side of the cockpit and onto the control panel of the Marauder. You instinctively wrap your legs around him, feeling the subtle pressure of his growing arousal against you. The intensity of the moment causes him to break the kiss, gasping for air as he tries to compose himself.
You gently cup his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, and ask, “Do you want to try more than just kissing?” His eyes flicker with uncertainty, and you try to voice it more clearly, “Do you want to have sex with me Tech?”
His response is eager, almost breathless, as he nods and replies, “Yes, I want.”
With a sense of anticipation coursing through you, you don’t wait any longer an swiftly discard your shirt, revealing the contours of your body to him. His gaze lingers, wide-eyed, on your bare chest, and you feel a rush of excitement at his reaction. “Touch me,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath, inviting him to explore you further.
He hesitates, his hand trembling slightly as he reaches out, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek before trailing down to your chest. As his fingers gently slide over your nipple, a soft gasp escapes your lips, eliciting a smile from him. “I very much like that sound,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a hint of wonder.
With a tentative question in his eyes, he asks, “Can I kiss you there?” You nod in response, a mixture of anticipation and desire coursing through you. Slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against your skin as he trails soft kisses down your neck, lingering at the curve of your breast. Each touch sends shivers down your spine, and you can't help but let out a few more soft moans, encouraging him to continue. He slowly gets more courageous exploring you and begins to suck one of you hardened nipples into his mouth eliciting even more gasps and moans from you. It feels like he is enjoying to test what kind of sounds he can get out of you.
Trying not to break from his touch you wiggle yourself out of your pants, leaving you clad only in your little satin panties, grateful that you put one of the nicer ones on this morning. His eyes widen with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as he takes in the sight of you before him, his gaze roaming over your exposed skin, drinking in every curve and contour.
“Explore my body, Tech,” you urge him, your voice filled with longing. His fingers trace over your skin, trailing along the inside of your thighs, hesitating slightly as they brush over the soaked fabric of your panties, already dampened by your arousal. "I studied some publications about female arousal," he begins, his voice laced with curiosity, "telling from the level of wetness I assume you enjoy this a lot. Is it because you haven’t been with someone in a while? I understood that once you tried and enjoyed sexual activities, it can become something of a need?"
A soft chuckle escapes your lips at his earnestness, and you reply, "It’s not because I need it, Tech. It’s because I want it, because I want you. Your touch and your kisses caused that."
"Interesting," he remarks, his tone thoughtful as if he's processing the information. At your instruction, he carefully removes your panties, his excitement undeniable as he takes in the sight of you naked body before him. His gaze roams over you, exploring every inch of your nakedness, before he drops to his knees to get a better view.
"Touch me," you encourage him, leaning over the control panel, pressing a button to seal the entrance to the cockpit, just in case the others come back earlier than expected. With eager anticipation, he trails his fingers over your slick folds, the slightest touch sending shivers of pleasure through you. He slides one finger between your outer lips, gently parting them, his movements cautious yet purposeful, and he asks, "Is that ok?"
"You don’t have to ask for my consent anymore, Tech," you reassure him, your desire evident in your voice. "I want this. I want you."
With that assurance, he very carefully begins to slide a finger into you, and you moan softly at the sensation, encouraging him to continue. Another finger follows suit, and he begins to move hesitantly, exploring the depths of your warm core. It feels incredible, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you entirely.
So many months you had spent fantasizing about something like this, but after he didn’t react to your flirting attempts you gave up and now you are here, completely naked, spread all over the control panel, with Tech between your legs and his fingers pushing into you.
He curls his fingers up, finding that sweet, soft spot that sends waves of extra strong pleasure coursing through your body and you can't help but cry out his name. His touch is intoxicating, each movement bringing you closer to the edge of an orgasm.
Feeling yourself on the brink, you gasp, "Tech, I won’t last long if you keep doing that." He hesitates for a moment, unsure what to do, but you encourage him to continue. "No, it’s good. I just… you will make me cum very quickly if you keep doing that," you assure him, your voice filled with desire.
Surprised but delighted by your response, Tech eagerly returns to his attention to your core. "Oh, I would love to give you an orgasm if you let me," he admits, his enthusiasm undeniable. You nod “Please” and with your consent, he thrust back into you, his fingers moving with purpose and determination.
Leaning in closer, he focuses his attention on your clit, his tongue adding a new dimension to the pleasure. It's a revelation, the intensity building with each thrust of his fingers, you cant believe he’s never done that before, but then again he is the man that knows everything.
You feel your body tensing up already and it takes only a few more flicks of his tongue against your clit before you cum. Stars shatter before your eyes and it feels incredibly good to ride out your orgasm on his fingers, your body trembling with the force of your release. You moan his name, lost in the pleasure pulsing through you, your head thrown back, eyes rolling in bliss.
Looking up at you in awe, Tech savors the sight before him. He's completely captivated by the way your body responds to his touch, determined not to miss a single moment of it.
After you slowly descend from the heights of your orgasm, he carefully slides his finger out of you and rises to his feet, standing before you. You lean up and press your lips to his. "Do you want me to explore your body?" you inquire, and he eagerly nods in response. You gracefully slip from the control panels, your eyes locked on him as he swiftly sheds his armor with practiced hands. When he's down to the bottom of his blacks, you gently guide him backward into the pilot's seat, a silent invitation for him to surrender to your touch.
You approach him with a mix of excitement and tenderness, fully aware that this is his first experience and taking care not to overwhelm him. You position yourself between his legs, one hand trailing over his chest and you leave a few heated kisses on his neck before you kneel down, your eyes lock with his, offering reassurance. "Relax, Tech. Let me take care of you," you say softly.
With a slow and deliberate hand, you begin to undo his pants, revealing his evident arousal. Your gaze flickers to his cock, noting its impressive length and girth, feeling a surge of desire as you prepare to pleasure him. Slowly taking him into your mouth, you start with gentle movements, savoring the taste of him as you explore each inch of his beautiful thick cock.
Tech's breath catches in his throat as you work him, his fingers tightening on the armrests. "Do you like how it feels?" you murmur, your voice a soft hum against his sensitive skin. He manages to nod, his expression a mix of pleasure and wonder as you continue.
Adjusting your pace, you find a rhythm that suits him, teasing and tantalizing as you build his arousal. With each movement, you feel him growing harder beneath your touch, his hips shifting instinctively to meet your mouth. "I…I’m close," he gasps, his voice strained with desire.
Despite the temptation to push him over the edge just now and see his beautiful brown eyes flutter, you hold back, knowing that you want to give him more. With a loving smile, you ease off, allowing him a moment to catch his breath. "Not yet," you whisper, your voice laced with anticipation. “I would like to ride you, do you want that?”
Tech's eyes widen with surprise and need as he understands what you want to do. With a hungry look in his eyes, he nods eagerly.
You rise from your knees, moving with purpose as you straddle his lap, positioning yourself above him. With a delicate touch, you guide his throbbing cock to the entrance of your slick, wet core, feeling the anticipation building between you. The pressure of his length against you already sends shivers down your spine, aching with desire for more. "Are you ready?" you whisper, your breath hot against his ear as you pepper his neck with soft kisses. Unable to speak, Tech nods eagerly, his eyes filled with longing as he awaits your next move.
As you lower yourself onto him, a wave of pleasure washes over you, his thick cock stretching you in all the right ways. You moan with satisfaction, relishing in the sensation of being filled by him. Tech's heartbeat quickens beneath you, his shallow breaths echoing the intensity of the moment. "Breathe, Tech," you murmur, planting tender kisses along his jawline, allowing him a moment to adjust to the feeling of being inside you.
With a slow, deliberate pace, you begin to move, rising and falling on his length, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you. Tech's composed facade begins to crack, his control slipping away as he succumbs to the ecstasy of your union. You enjoy to see him slowly coming undone in front of you. Tech, who is always in control, always composed is coming undone. And you love that you can do that to him.
As you increase your rhythm, Tech's hands find hold on your waist, his touch grounding you as you ride him. You brace yourself against his shoulders, granting him a beautiful view of your bouncing breasts right before his face, fueling his desire even further. You feel him tensing up, his cock pressing even harder against your walls with every move. “It’s okay Tech” you reassure him, “cum inside me”urging him to let go and release within you.
You lean down to leave a few kisses and gentle bites along his neck, increasing your pace further and it doesn’t take long until he succumbs to the overwhelming pleasure, his cock pulsating within you as he spills his warm cum deep inside your core. The sensation of him filling you up is so overwhelmingly good it triggers another orgasm, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. You cry out his name as you clench around him, the intensity of your orgasm echoing his own. He looks at you in awe by the sensation of your pussy tightening around his cock. Collapsing onto his chest, you both bask in the aftermath, your bodies entwined and slick with sweat, lost in the euphoria of your connection.
Tech catches his breath first, his chest rising and falling as he composes himself. "I would enjoy doing that again sometime," he admits, his voice filled with a hint of longing but also uncertainty.
You smile warmly, reassurance in your eyes as you reply, "Whenever you want, Tech. I'm yours." Leaning in, you press your lips against his, a soft and tender kiss filled with promise. “I love you,” you whisper, your words carrying the weight of your affection.
As his softened cock slowly begins to slip out of you, you feel his warm cum dripping from your core onto the seat beneath you. "I should clean that up before we make a mess here," you remark, a playful glint in your eyes as you glance down at the evidence of your shared passion.
Tech nods in agreement, his gaze lingering on you as he gestures towards the fresher. "Go on. I'll take care of the cockpit," he offers, his tone gentle yet determined, showing his willingness to share the responsibilities.
Before you can leave, he pulls you close, his lips capturing yours in a deep and passionate kiss. "Thank you," he murmurs against your lips, his gratitude evident in his touch as he expresses his appreciation for your connection.
"For what?" you wonder, eager to understand the depth of his emotions.
"For communicating with me in a way that I understand," he explains, his words resonating with sincerity as he acknowledges the significance of your connection and the efforts you've made to bridge any gaps in understanding.
With a smile and a soft kiss, you accept his gesture, making your way to the fresher, mindful not to leave a trail of cum behind as you prepare to clean up. As you go, you're filled with a sense of contentment, knowing that despite any challenges, you and Tech have found a way to connect deeply, both physically and emotionally.
When you tap out of the fresher, all cleaned up, clothes back on, you are relieved to see that the others seemingly still haven’t returned, giving you and Tech a little more time together. Glancing over at the cockpit, you notice it looks nice and clean, as if nothing had happened. Satisfied, you step outside the Marauder and find Tech sitting in the low grass, his datapad in hand and connected to his ears. He smiles at you, and you can't help but return the smile as you approach him.
"What are you doing?" you inquire, curiosity lacing your tone.
"I'm listening to the sounds you made," he responds, a happy glance in his eyes. Your cheeks flush at his words, and he chuckles softly. "I enjoy this very much, it's already my favorite recording."
He pulls you in for a kiss, and you melt into his embrace, feeling a sense of warmth and affection wash over you. You make yourself comfortable in the grass next to him and he hands you a cup of fresh caff, asking if you feel good.
"Haven’t felt so good in a while…and thank you for cleaning up the cockpit," you express your gratitude, but a hint of worry creeps into your voice. "But I guess that Hunter will smell it anyway. He can smell a Bantha ten klicks against the wind."
Tech laughs, reassuring you. "That is precisely right, but don't worry. I spilled some caff to cover up the scent for now. However, we will need to tell them eventually that we…we…”
“…had sex in Hunters ship and will continue to do so?” you offer to finish the sentence with a wide grin on your face.
“That we are engaging in a romantic relationship. And that is MY ship" he corrects you. “But I fear their response to this news will not be that elated at first.”
You furrow your brows in concern, prompting him to explain further. "Why do you think your brothers won't be happy for you, Tech?"
He adjusts his goggles, his expression thoughtful. "Because shortly after you became part of our crew, they made a bet on who would get… who would succeed in having sex with you first. And the bet was not on me. And not on a relationship either, rather on a more... casual encounter."
"Who was it?" you ask, curious to know the outcome.
Tech sighs, his gaze dropping momentarily. "On Crosshair. It was on Crosshair. I bet on him too. Statistically, he has the highest success rate, so it was a safe bet... I thought."
You chuckle softly, realizing the implications, of course it was Crosshair. "Well, that will dent his ego a bit, but he'll survive it," you laugh, needless to say Crosshair is a handsome man with an aura that is best described as intense but he’s just not your type, you prefer soft and nerdy but lethal, and sometimes a bit unhinged, just like the beautiful man sitting beside you.
Feeling a sense of content wash over you, you happily lean into Tech, resting your head on his chest as you revel in the comfort and security of his embrace.
Shouldn't we finish the modification we abandoned?" you inquire, gazing up at the sky.
"I would much rather enjoy the time with you out here," Tech responds, his voice filled with warmth. "It is not often that we are on a planet where the atmosphere is breathable, meteorological conditions are predominantly pleasant, and there is no extremely hostile wildlife that we have to pay attention to. Besides, with your help, I can quickly finish the modification later. We will need to learn to enjoy the moments we get together without my brothers, as they will be scarce."
You gaze up at him in awe, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over you as you cuddle closer to him. "Well,if we have time, then tell me everything you know about those little fuzzy creatures up there jumping around in the trees," you say, pointing towards the playful fury animals in the distance.
He smiles down at you, his eyes reflecting fondness. "Gladly," he responds, before leaning in to give you the softest, most loving kiss.
As he begins to speak, his voice takes on the tone of a database, filled with information about the local wildlife. You've always loved animals and listening to Tech talking for hours about the local wildlife and its possible dangers or benefits during missions has fascinated you each time. But now, wrapped in his arms, experiencing this as private lecture and stealing a few kisses in between is the best feeling in the galaxy
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Vox Tickle Headcanons!!
Because my art has been making itself at a very slow rate, have some Vox headcanons that rot my brain while you wait
These are mixed up with lee and ler because I was just going on a rampage
my lil guy @hype-blue-fixation was most of my inspiration for this
WARNING: Some might be a bit intense for some viewers so keep that in mind!!
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Can NOT say tickle when in a lee mood, replacing it with “tiggle” or “tword”, however in a ler mood he’ll be sure to make the lee crumble by just that word
Absolutely bullies the lee if he’s the one wrecking their ass, there will be zero mercy
He’s a evil teaser, that is his weapon
“Ohohoh look who just found a bad spot~”
“Let’s see how loud I can get you..that way I don’t have to tell everyone how ticklish you are, you’ll be doing it yourself~”
Will not stop till safe word is said, he wants to saver every single second he has to drive the lee crazy
Instead of “soft to rough” tickles, he likes doing “rough to soft” tickles
When in a ler mood, he likes scratching his claws on anything (ex. On his desk, edge of his sleeves, running them on the walls)
When in a lee mood, he will hang around his pet sharkies a lot, getting subtle cuddles from them<3
He’d rather burn in hell twice than ask for tickles.
In a lee mood, he’ll be extra sensitive to any sort of touch; flinching away from hugs, pat on the back, even handshakes
He’s a runner and will try to escape if even a mention of him getting tickled is said
Bratty.
Even while getting his ass wrecked, he’ll say bratty comments
“Is this all you got??”
“And here you said you were gonna have me breathless, where’s all that talk?”
Except once you really get him cackling, he will be begging for his life
He’s a stomper
And of course, a squirmed too, this man WILL NOT stay still no matter what you do
The back of his head/tv panel is his worst spot. No one will convince me otherwise.
You can very much trick him to admit to wanting tickles; teasing him the whole day with slight touches, subtle teases, anything that resembles tickling will drive him insane to the point where he will burst
“STOP IT with the stupid fucking teasing, you’ve been fucking with me the entire day. Just t-t-t-…fuck-“ Just imagine the ler smirking down at him, getting the tv man flustered as fuck and realizes it was a trick all along~
“I don’t want it anymore. Get AWAY from me!!-“
Has ticklish palmmmssss
He actually doesn’t mind when Vel/Val just trace his palms, using him as a fidget toy
He rants to his sharks about the tickle scenarios in his head, and it’s a lot
When he gets too flustered, he has to release it in some kind of way; whether that be punching the floor, kicking his feet, insulting (with no real heat) to his ler, and etc, anything you can think of
When he wants to cover his face, he just rotates his tv head 360 degrees and lays it on the ground
But that exposes his tv panel so it’s a big gamble to hope that his ler doesn’t know that’s even a tickle spot
#clouds do write#sfw tickle#hazbin hotel tickles#hazbin hotel#tickle content#lee!vox#sfw tickle community#ler!vox#tickle headcanons#headcanon#tickle headcannons#vox headcanons#vox hazbin hotel
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Sorry I'm actually obsessed with the Daiyu-Baoyu theory and I'm rotating it in my head forever. I'm not sure if I'm actually onto anything here but when thinking about it I recalled this CG from the TGS trailer
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/288ff74444dfc0de2260ccf2f5d99d20/f31eb331b4055d81-8e/s540x810/1f8866fd74739c69eacd687bd57bb4cada35523a.jpg)
and I remember thinking about how odd this picture seems because it's so Un-Hong Lu-like. Because from what we've seen, Hong Lu has never even gotten close to being this angry. And yet, they showed us this picture in a trailer before the game even released. It's obviously something they wanted us to see and keep in mind. But so far, there doesn't seem to be anything we can think of that can draw this kind of reaction out of Hong Lu, who seems to just redirect or avoid upsetting topics altogether.
When reading your theory, I remembered this CG and noticed that he's facing the right, meaning we can't see his jade eye. This isn't the first time they've obscured something important from us in the trailer (e.g., Don Quixote's eyes), so it's not a stretch to say they're intentionally hiding his eye. This suggests that something might be up with it in this scene that we aren't supposed to know yet, like, for example, being removed.
If we assume that Baoyu's memories are in his eye, which has been put in Daiyu's body, as well as Kurokumo Hong Lu's attitude being the most Daiyu-like, then it would explain this CG a lot better, because it's not really Hong Lu or Baoyu. It's Daiyu.
Sorry for the very long ask, I got excited. Again, I'm really just rambling and speculating. What I do know is that I'm really enjoying this theory, and thinking about writing a fanfic with the premise because it is so fascinating to me!
Funny you bring up that CG in particular, since the subject of it has come up on this blog before! That being said, I unfortunately can't find the exact post where I talked about it, so I might as well do so again - especially since we now also have more insight on Hong Lu as a characer.
The full CG that cut-in comes from can be seen in the Story Demo video for the Alpha Version of Limbus, as a preview CG for the 1-5 node on the very early version of Canto 1's Story Node map.
Notably, this CG does not appear in any Cutscene/Story Demo videos post the TGS Teaser, meaning the CG must have been scrapped at some point between that Alpha Version demo and the post TGS Teaser demo. Whether it was scrapped after it was used for the Teaser, meaning it was still part of the story at the time, or whether it was scrapped before but PJM decided something about that particular image of Hong Lu was important enough to the Teaser to include it anyway, is something I don't think we'll ever know.
Unfortunately, with how early the CG seems to have originally been placed in the story, I doubt it has anything to do with Daiyu specifically. However, I do now have my own theory of what that cutscene might have entailed, as well as why that would contribute to it being scrapped.
Judging by the leftmost panel, it's easy to deduce this was where Yuri's backstory was originally meant to be explained, as in the whole site burial and survivor's guilt thing would be brought up. The fact that the explanation would later be moved to be inside the Dungeon rather outside would on its own be a good reason to scrap the CG, but there's something else about it that I realized only recently.
In the game proper, Yuri reveals her trauma almost exclusively to Gregor (and initially Ishmael), as all the other Sinners have already passed out due to the gas grenade. However, in the hypothetical scrapped scenario where the reveal came outside the Dungeon, every Sinner would have a chance to hear it and react to it.
So, what kind of reaction would fit the other two panels on the CG? The middle panel of Rodya comforting an uncomfortable looking Yuri while Hong Lu looks innocently confused, followed by a panel with the angriest looking Gregor we've ever seen clashing with the angriest looking Hong Lu we've ever seen?
Here's what I think could have originally happened in that scene (and this is Entirely Speculation, we have no proof of this actually being the case):
I believe, after sharing her story, especially the point about trying to escape the site burial, Mr. Hong 'I am always ready to accept my own death' Lu would act confused and ask something along the lines of "Why didn't you just stay?" or a variant of such. Why didn't you just accept it, why didn't you just let it happen, why did you try to fight it, etc. Essentially asking why, if Yuri was going to feel such guilt for surviving the ordeal, would she ever bother trying to survive in the first place.
This would, understandably, piss Gregor the fuck off, as he himself holds a good deal of guilt for the fact he participated in the War and survived through it. There's a high chance of him trying to verbally rip into Hong Lu, to tell him that he has No Idea what it's like to have to live day by day trying to survive just long enough to see tomorrow, what it's like to have one's life turned into hell without them having any choice on the matter, what it's like to feel the need to run away despite knowing that it will leave them with the guilt of not being able to save anyone else. He's some sheltered rich kid after all, how could he know what it's like to actually suffer?
And I think something like that would be enough for Hong Lu's facade to crack. Because no, Gregor is wrong. Hong Lu knows exactly what it's like, more than anyone should know he does. He might not even be responding with much in this cutscene, even just a hostile "You know nothing about me and my life." would be enough to set the tone. That whatever is going on behind that smile of his is so much worse than what it seems.
...And that's why I think it was scrapped. Because a peek behind Hong Lu's mask in Canto 1 would be too early.
Hong Lu's slow unraveling of his lies is just that - slow. It took us until Just This Recent Canto to get a somewhat clear confirmation that no, the info he gives about his Family is not to be trusted. It took until Canto 3 to see him be the only Sinner actively willing to lie and until Canto 4 to show us he's a good actor. Revealing that Hong Lu has a very different side to him underneath the curious cheerful persona as early as Canto 1 would completely alter the pacing and trajectory of his arc. You'd have a reason to suspect him from the beginning, rather than have a chance to be just as fooled by him as Dante and the other Sinners are.
So no, I don't think that CG is meant to show Daiyu. But I do think that CG was meant to be our first hint to the fact that Hong Lu isn't being honest with the others, at least until it was decided it was too soon for such a reveal.
#ask#caramelchaitea#lu speaketh#limbus company#hong lu#hong lu lcb#i'm glad other people are becoming insane over this theory too#it genuinely is something else#me and mulberry have been trying to find contradictions to it#and everytime we instead find More evidence instead
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the Spirited Away theatrical adaptation
today I went with @birdfriender to see the stage production of Spirited Away, produced by Toho, currently on tour in London.
and like. holy shit??
you might say how the hell could you adapt a film like spirited away to stage. the answer is: incredibly inventive stagecraft, puppetry, costumes and especially choreography.
I was completely blown away by how this play flowed across the stage. set transitions were masked with lighting to direct attention, with the descending screen, with the rotating central platform that managed to function as nearly every part of the bathhouse. stairs, rotating bridges, creative use of size to indicate perspective (like the tiny train that circles the stage), and just the way the crew would move the props with a flourish -
but also the puppetry, like man! the way characters like Kamaji, Yubaba's giant head (used only at moments of intense emotion), and No Face would be operated by entire teams of puppeteers - it was extraordinary. the puppetry director was Toby Olié who's worked on a million different things including War Horse and you can really see them applying all these tricks accumulated over the years...
the show is remarkably faithful to the film; a few scenes are slightly abridged but every sequence I remembered was there and deliver with style. where it does need to pause and breathe, like in the famous train scene, it does. and like... it is fascinating to see an adaptation from animation to theatre. seeing how Mone Kamishiraishi (Chihiro) would stumble and bumb into walls just as she would under the pen of Shinya Ohira. or how a memorable sequence in the film could be represented symbolically: a collapsing pipe as a string of segments pulled on a string, a flower garden by dancers in flower outfits.
some of my fave sequences involved wooden panels carried by dancers, choreographed so the characters would weave between them, or they'd rotate to represent elevators on different floors. it was also fascinating to see how they'd symbolically represent things it would be impossible to stage, often representing fluids with fabric sheets. a transformation could be shown with actors swapping places with a flourish. at other times, it feels like stage magic tricks are in use, like a flash of light drawing your attention to a rope that was there all along. sometimes the puppeteers will be on stage, wearing simple beige outfits that mark them as not being 'present' as they manipulate the soot sprites and frogs and so on.
they also made effective, sparing use of a large projector screen, which descended at certain points, primarily for the driving scene at the beginning and the train scene. this actually didn't use scenes from the movie, but more of a soft, painterly style applied over... probably animated video? hard to say with the blurring, could be live footage. it reminded me of the use of similar screens in the later YoRHa plays, although it was a minor element here.
we weren't allowed to take photos (i took this one during the final bow anyway) and I would have been too busy watching to take them anyway, but this teaser shows briefly a number of the coolest setups. still, it's so much more when you see the whole thing flowing along without interruption.
youtube
and it was very interesting to me looking at this kind of show - big stage, directly homaging an animated film - from the eyes of someone who knows a lot more about film and animation than I do about theatre.
compared to film, you simply do not have closeups; the closest thing is when the puppeteers bring out the segments of Yubaba's giant floating head, but this is used sparingly. so everything is basically a long shot. however, because the acuity of a human eye is much greater than that of a camera, even from near the back of the theatre you can make out a lot of details that you wouldn't be able to make out with an equivalent camera shot. this allows compositions where there is loads going on at stage at once, with the eye being drawn to different areas by lighting and movement.
I do feel like there are definitely things to learn for animators from this kind of stage choreography. so many times I thought like, wow, that's so clever. like how chihiro riding haku was shown by splitting the dragon puppet into segments and putting her on the shoulders of one of the puppeteers.
and everything was done with such style too. if something shuffles off stage, you know it will be done with a wiggle and a flourish. small things but they add so much.
presumably because this seems like an incredibly involved show, there are multiple performers for each major character: four Chihiros, and three Hakus, Yubabas, Kamajis and so on. I'm not sure the exact lineup tonight beyond Chihiro. the exception is Kaonashi (No Face), who is played only by Hikaru Yamano, who gives an incredible performance, sidling and flexing around the stage in all sorts of strange ways that really get across the character's whole deal despite literally performing under a white mask and concealing robe. it's kinda amazing.
another fantastic casting is fundoshi dancer Yuya Igarashi as Kashira (the stack of three big heads that serve Yubaba, and speak only in wordless grunts). he basically has his real head as one of the three, and he has two more heads on his hands, and moves them around in incredibly energetic and funny ways. it's a brilliant way to interpret this, somehow feeling perfectly appropriate to have a buff guy in a red loincloth moving them around.
Yubaba's actress tonight would have been either Mari Natsuki or Hitomi Harukaze; either way she did an incredible job, it was really cool seeing a more human-proportioned version of the character and she brought a lot of energy and authority to the role.
the whole cast did a fucking amazing job honestly. I wish I knew more about theatre acting so I could comment more specifically on the tricks they were doing, but you definitely felt Chihiro's emotions
the production is in Japanese; English subtitles were shown on two screens on either side of the stage. the translation was on the 'honorifics included' end of that scale, but absolutely clear and idiomatic. the format worked - it was generally not hard to follow the action and glance at the subtitles, even though they were further away than they would be in film - and it definitely filled the theatre. I really hope this leads to more Japanese theatrical productions going on tour like this. wish i'd been able to see the Totoro one a few months ago.
definitely this kind of theatre must depend on a fairly obscene budget of the kind that only comes to biiiiig properties like, say, an adaptation of a beloved Studio Ghibli movie (one family turned up in cosplay) - there's a lot to be said for less extravagant staging. at the same time... this really was something.
i gotta go to the theatre more
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I Know.
A/N: Cursed with insomnia again. Here’s what I wrote last night.
Pairing: Crosshair x Reader (GN; reader has nightmares and nonspecific trauma)
Rating: T
Wordcount: 1.3k
Warnings and tags: angst; nightmares (not described); hurt comfort
Summary: Sometimes, the people who have the most complicated history with you are the ones who know you best. Set pre-Skako Minor.
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You awoke with a flinch. Your heart raced as you stared into the darkness, the pulse of it thundering in your ears. Your breath came fast and hard, and you forced yourself to slow down and breathe through your nose. Gradually, your body let go of the panic, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. Not when you knew what waited for you once you drifted into unconsciousness.
You sat up slowly, pausing to clear your head before you slipped out of the bunk. As quietly as you could, you made your way to the front of the Marauder, grabbing your datapad as you passed the data terminal. Judging by the snores, Wrecker and Tech were out cold, but you’d be willing to stake every last credit in your account that your pounding heart had awakened Hunter before you even opened your eyes. Still, he was silent as you moved stealthily to the cockpit.
It was strange to be back on the Marauder after all this time. Familiar, yet different. The squad welcomed you back with varying degrees of enthusiasm—or at least acceptance—but there was a distance between you that had never been there before. A sense of caution, of unspoken but deep vigilance, as though you all felt a compulsion to weigh your words before speaking. The easy laughter, the banter, the closeness and connection—it was though none of it had ever existed.
The faint glow of the instrument panel illuminated Crosshair’s lean form as he sat in the pilot’s chair, arms folded over his chest as his long legs stretched out in front of him. He glanced up as you passed, but said nothing. Outside the viewport, it was far too dark to make out the landscape of the wilderness, but the stars above shone brilliantly through the unclouded atmosphere. You curled up in the copilot’s seat and wordlessly flicked on your datapad.
You tried to read. The holonovel you opened seemed too daunting, so instead you scrolled through your usual collection of holonet sites for a long while, but your brain refused to process any of the text. Your eyes felt heavy and gritty, and the words seemed to blur together no matter how hard you squeezed your eyelids shut to try to clear your vision. Eventually, you closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the headrest.
“You all right?” Crosshair’s voice was barely audible.
“Can’t sleep,” you whispered without opening your eyes.
“Still?”
“Yeah.”
You both fell silent for a moment. The pilot’s seat creaked as he adjusted.
“Same nightmare after all this time?” he asked.
You nodded. “Yeah.”
You opened your eyes and rotated your head toward him, only to find that he was already watching you, his dark, intense eyes unreadable in the dim light.
“You ever talk to anyone about it?”
You shook your head. “Just you. The others—they don’t understand. They don’t know. The details.”
“They still care, though,” he said quietly.
“I know. I just…” You swallowed. “Can’t. I don’t want them to know.”
He didn’t reply, only watched you.
You took a deep, shuddering breath. “I don’t want them to see how broken I am.”
The silence stretched out for a moment, before he replied very quietly. “I never saw you that way.”
Your throat tightened, and your vision blurred for an instant before the tear overflowed from the corner of your eye and slid down your temple. You could barely see a damned thing in the dark, but Crosshair saw you. He always had.
Slowly, he reached out and smoothed the tear off your skin, then he dropped his hand to your wrist and gently but insistently tugged on you until at last you complied with his unspoken request, crossing the short distance to the copilot’s chair and settling onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around you and coaxed your head down to rest on his shoulder as you curled your legs up and around his body.
“I don’t want to fall back asleep,” you confessed, feeling slightly ashamed of your childish fear.
He stroked your hair. “Then… don’t sleep. Stay with me.”
You nuzzled softly against his neck, breathing in his familiar scent. It had been such a long time, but you’d know it anywhere.
“You don’t mind?”
“Why would I?” he whispered.
The weight of lost time was heavy in the silence before you replied. “I thought you might prefer it if I left you alone.”
His jaw brushed against your forehead as he turned to look down at you. “I don’t mind having you here.”
The tension in your body gradually drained away as you relaxed against him, lapsing once more into silence. He rested his cheek against the top of your head as his thumb traced slow, lazy circles on your shoulder. Your heavy eyes began to drift shut, your anxiety lulled away by the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the steady thump of his pulse beneath your ear.
“I can hear your heartbeat,” you whispered.
His only response was a quiet, brief hum at the back of his throat, but he pressed his lips against your hair. You raised your hand slowly and trailed your fingertips from the corner of his jaw, down the line of his neck, to the notch at the base of his throat, and when you reached his chest, you flattened your palm against him, directly over his heart. His hand closed gently around yours, holding it there, and you brushed your thumb over his knuckles.
“I’ve missed this,” he whispered. “Holding you like this.”
“Me, too.”
You relaxed further against him, and he tightened his arms around you, holding you securely so you didn’t slip off his lap. When you spoke again, your voice was very soft.
“Cross?”
“Mhm?”
You hesitated a moment before you whispered, “Why did we end it?”
He didn’t move, didn’t react, didn’t even change the pattern of his breath, but you could hear his heart speed up at your whispered question.
“I don’t remember,” he replied.
You took a few slow, shallow breaths. “Me either.”
His hand glided slowly up your shoulder until he reached the back of your neck, and he stroked his thumb along the shell of your ear.
“We were good together, weren’t we?” he asked quietly.
You tilted your head and brushed your lips against his neck in a caress so feather-light it was almost imperceptible.
Almost.
“The best,” you whispered.
He swallowed hard, the sound plainly audible to your ears. The two of you sat unmoving for a long, long time, simply holding each other. He took a shaky breath.
“I—” his voice failed, and he fell silent again.
“I know,” you whispered, kissing his neck. “I know.” You pressed your lips against his jaw, and then the corner of his mouth. “It’s hard, isn’t it? Finding the right words.”
The hand on the back of your neck slid up to hold your head, and he turned to gaze into your eyes, your faces so close together that you could feel his soft, warm breath on your skin.
“What can I say that would be enough?” he asked, his voice quiet and unsteady.
You rested your palm against his jaw, feeling the rough, familiar prickle of his facial hair. Your thumb stroked across his cheekbone, then over his lips.
“You don’t have to say anything,” you whispered. “I already know.” You kissed him softly. “I’ll always know you.”
He pulled you closer, cradling your head in his hands as his lips brushed against yours. His familiar taste flooded your senses. The kiss was gentle and slow, his tongue just grazing between your lips before the two of you parted reluctantly. He rested his forehead against yours as he brought his hand around to caress your cheek.
“Do you think you could ever love me again?” he asked.
You were silent for a moment before you confessed, “I never stopped.”
The rise and fall of his chest paused for an instant, then resumed.
“Neither did I.”
---
Want more Bad Batch fics? I have two for Hunter: First Kiss ficlet (sfw) and "I Wish All Readers a Very Hunter Life Day" (very spicy).
Ragu list:
@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @523rdrebel @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella @cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @mandos-mind-trick @littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @clonemedickix @marierg @idontgetanysleep @moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine @multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam @banksys-rat @skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist @cw80831 @kimiheartblade @meredithroseg @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal
#tbb crosshair#crosshair bad batch#crosshair x reader#star wars#the bad batch#sw tbb fanfic#crosshair fanfiction#hurt comfort fic#hurt/comfort#gn reader
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