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slut4nicholas · 3 months ago

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𝙊𝙃, 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙄 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙄 | 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙀

a/n: i haven't started the show yet, so I'm not familiar with his character in this show. please forgive my cluelessness during this fic.

summary: the reader goes to the church to confess to the priest that she recently sinned. however, the father decides to have some fun of his own.

warnings: mention of religion, 18+, missionary, loss of virginity, oral(fem & m receiving) fingering, nipple play, praise kink, pet names like doll,sweetheart,baby, mentions of anal, spanking, degrading, corruption kink, almost caught

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growing up in a religious household, i have developed a deep appreciation for my catholic roots. whenever I feel overwhelmed by sadness, anger, or depression, I find solace in the church.

today i couldn't help but feel a tremendous amount of guilt. i found myself hanging out with a boy, and things got a bit physical. even though we didn't go too far, i couldn't help but feel ashamed. i had promised to wait until marriage, but these uncontrollable desires keep creeping up. i've decided to go to the church to talk to the father about my recent activities and confess my sins.

as i made my way to the church, i felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation. i'm meeting with father charlie, a young and attractive man who’s also the priest at the church, which is not something you typically expect in the church. i haven't had a chance to speak with him one-on-one yet, so im feeling a bit apprehensive about what our conversation will entail.

i open the big doors to the church to see it completely empty just to find charlie sitting down on one the church benches.

“hello there” he calls out.

"father, there's something weighing heavily on my heart that I need to share with you," i said as I hurried to sit next to him.

i can feel that irritating uneasy sensation in my stomach. I didn't even give him a proper greeting. the guilt was so overwhelming that it made me stumble over my words.

"what is it y/n?" he turns all of his attention towards me, his big brown eyes digging into mine, as if anticipating something significant.

“i don’t know who to talk to, i can’t talk to my parents about this especially my own father. i’ve been feeling really guil-“

he interrupted me with a gentle smile and placed his hand on my shoulder, assuring me that everything would be okay and letting me know that he was a safe person to talk to.

“father, i need to confess something. i kissed a boy, and he kissed me back. he started to touch me, but i stopped him. i made a promise to the lord, and i feel terrible for breaking it”

as the tears welled up in my eyes, i instinctively dropped my face into my hands, seeking refuge from the overwhelming emotions.

"hey, it's going to be okay," charlie said in a gentle, caring tone as he stroked my hair, trying to comfort me.

“now tell me, did you guys fuck?”

as those words reached my ears, i couldn't help but look up at him, shaking my head as the tears continued to fall.

oh no, i hope he's not going to make me feel even worse.

“no father i swear-“

"shh, no swearing in the church," he said, raising his finger to his lips with a smirk. the irony wasn't lost on him, considering he had just dropped the f-bomb.

it was so quiet for a whole minute, and I started feeling really awkward. i had come all this way hoping for some advice or comfort, but it seemed like he just didn't care.

as I stood up, charlie grabbed my arm, forcing me to sit back down. “i didn't say you could leave. where do you think you're going?”

he replied coldly, smirking, “always so forgiving. it's kind of pathetic”

i stared at him, utterly perplexed, not really sure what he was talking about.

“father, isn't forgiveness what the church is all about?”

“sometimes, but in this case, i really want you to show me how sorry you are. otherwise, you're just going to keep committing the same sin over and over again. you don't want that, right? you don't want your parents to find out how desperate their innocent little girl has become, do you?"

i couldn't believe what i was hearing from charlie. i never expected him to act this way, let alone say things like this. i was at a loss for words and didn't know how to react. all i could do was nod in agreement. the last thing i wanted was for my parents to find out.

“father, i think i should go”

"why are you suddenly so shy, doll?" his hand on my chin made me tilt my head to stare at him.

"you don't think i notice how you look at me during mass when I'm speaking on the stand? you've become so needy that you sometimes cross your legs to stop yourself from feeling those emotions you want to avoid so badly," he says while caressing my cheek, gently rubbing his thumb on my bottom lip.

"i know you think of me taking you to the point where you can't even think straight, cum dripping out of you while i use you for my pleasure. you don't think i notice that? the way you avoid eye contact with me”

“i don’t know what your talking about father”

charlie’s hand rested lightly on my thigh, sending a spark of electricity coursing through my body. as his fingers inched toward the top of my skirt, pushing the fabric up just a little, my breath caught in my throat. each slow movement seemed to stretch time, heightening my senses and igniting a thrilling tension i couldn't ignore.

it felt deceptively wrong—the kind of reckless abandon that sent a shiver down my spine—but the anticipation was intoxicating, and I craved more. my mind raced, caught between instinct and hesitation, as the warmth of his touch settled into a deep hunger, one i found increasingly impossible to resist.

i glanced up, searching his eyes for a sign, a cue that this was more than just a fleeting moment. we held a playful challenge, a promise of the passion we both knew was simmering beneath the surface. my heart raced with excitement and fear, the boundaries of right and wrong blurring into a sweet confusion. with every breath, i felt the world around us fade away, lost to the undeniable chemistry pulsing in the air. i didn’t want to stop it; I wanted to let go completely and dive headfirst into whatever was coming next.

“do you want this as much as I want this?" charlie's voice broke through the haze of my thoughts, causing my heart to race in an unholy rhythm. i felt his gaze resettle upon me, a weight both thrilling and terrifying. my mind was a jumble, each beat vying for clarity as i struggled to focus on anything but him.

his eyes—the deep pools of mischief and longing—held me captive, swaying me like a fragile leaf in a rising storm. the blueprint of his desires flickered behind those intense brown eyes, and my cheeks burned with a shameful blush. I could hear the hymns of the service fade into background noise, a distant echo that paled against the ferocity of this moment.

what was wrong with me? i shouldn’t be feeling this way, not here—certainly not in a house of worship. my skirt brushed against my legs, reminding me of the innocence i used to wear like armor, now discarded in the face of this ravenous yearning. charlie wanted me. craved me. it was a dangerous temptation that had taken root within me, whispering sweet nothings that urged me to give in.

the candlelit corners of the church bathed in shadows, the lure was overwhelming. each passing week at mass had been an exercise in restraint, a careful balancing act over a precipice of emotion. seeing him near the altar in his crisp shirt—as though god himself had stitched him together purely for me—seemed more sublimely wrong every time.

as his eyes swept over me, i wondered if he could sense the tension glittering between us, thick and electrifying like charged air before a storm. j licked my lips, torn between the sanctity of the aisle and the allure of his promise. "I need you, doll. I can't deny it anymore," he murmured like a sin freshly minted from temptation's forge.

i felt a tumultuous wave of conflicting emotions surging within me. the whispered prayers seemed empty as an overwhelming desire ignited like an uncontrollable inferno. "father” i gasped, but the air escaped me, filled with forbidden possibilities. despite everything, all i could focus on were his lips drawing nearer to mine, as if the world around us faded away, leaving only the intense magnetism between us.

in that sacred moment, beneath the flickering lights, surrounded by silence begging to be heard, we hovered on the brink of something vast and insatiable. would we give in? would grace curdle into passion? ignoring the whisper of consequence felt like my true struggle—should we tiptoe across this brittle line, or confess that hunger has only one unyielding answer? together.

as I processed what was happening, a surge of warmth enveloped me, and i found myself surrendering to the moment. his lips danced across the sensitive skin of my neck, light as a whisper but charging the air with electricity. a small moan escaped my lips, betraying the whirlwind of emotions stirring within me. i could feel his smirk, a secret shared just between us, brushing against my skin, simultaneously teasing and thrilling.

his hand roamed over my thigh, a firm yet gentle grip that sent a shiver cascading through my body. "that's it, such a good girl for me," he purred, his voice a low whisper that thrummed like a melody in my ears, both lustful and tender. each word dripped with a promise, igniting the fire kindling deep within me, blurring the boundaries between desire and surrender.

lost in this intoxicating closeness, i reveled in the sensations; the world beyond shifted and faded, leaving only his teasing caresses and the seductive intimacy that enveloped us—a balance of power and vulnerability, inviting me to cross the threshold into unknown territory.

"father, i really don’t think we should be doing this here. It just doesn’t feel right. what if we get caught?" i watched as charlie sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration, clearly torn between desire and caution.

"you’re right," he replied, his voice low and raspy, "but it’s late, and I don’t think anyone’s going to wander into the church at this hour. just relax, sweetheart."

i hesitated for a moment, then nodded, the thrill of the forbidden sending a shiver down my spine. i reached out, intertwining my fingers with his, bringing his hand to my lips and sucking gently on his long fingers. his eyes locked onto mine, filled with a primal hunger that made my heart race. i could see it in his expression—the desperate need to claim me, to tear away any barrier between us.

the air was thick with anticipation, and i could almost feel the weight of his longing as he shifted closer, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. the dim light from the stained glass windows cast a soft glow around us, amplifying the intensity of the moment. i could sense the tension building, a thrilling mix of danger and desire, as he leaned in, caught in the magnetic pull that seemed to draw us together like moths to a flame.

we were on the edge of something wild and reckless, and in that sacred space, everything felt possible.

charlie withdrew his fingers, his intention clear as he replaced them with his warm, teasing tongue. it slipped into my mouth, exploring with a fervor that sent electric shivers through my entire body. he held my neck gently yet possessively, urging me closer, deeper, igniting a fire that burned between us.

i kissed him back with equal intensity, a thrilling battle for dominance that left us both breathless. the taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mixture of desire and urgency that made my heart race. every flick of his tongue ignited a wave of pleasure, pooling low in my belly and making it almost impossible to think straight.

the heat of the moment consumed me; i could feel my body responding instinctively to his every move. the sweet tension built inside me, and i knew i needed him—needed to feel him against me, to drown in that wild connection we shared. my panties were already soaked, a testament to the overwhelming desire coursing through my veins.

charlie pushes my panties to the side allowing his already wet fingers from my saliva to dance around my clothed heat growling like a predator hungry for its prey “let me show you how a real man is supposed to make you feel darling, those little boys wouldn’t know how to handle something so precious like you. i can make you feel so good you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for days”

as he pumps his fingers in out of me the sweet sounds filling up the quiet church was enough for the both of us to go crazy “more father please” he smirked at my neediness removing his fingers out of me putting them up to mouth to signaling me to suck the sweet juices off of his fingers then going back in for a quick rub of my clit

charlie stood up getting ready to unbuckle his pants but before he could even do that a voice filled up the quiet room which caused me to jump and act quick closing my legs and hiding my exposed area “father charlie i’ve been looking everywhere for you” an older lady shouts from across the room as she appears to be in desperate need of his help

he sighed and i took that as my sign to leave before we both do something we might regret later, charlie keeps his gaze on me the entire time “hi, ill be with you in a moment” he spoke up the lady stops in her tracks wondering what a young woman was doing here at almost midnight with the priest of the church she was curious but nothing crossed her mind as she was desperate to talk to the priest

charlie followed me out of the church closing the door behind us “this isn’t over sweetheart” he placed a kiss on my forehead as he walked back into the church.

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a/n: omggg i hope you guys like this!! i’ve spent almost a day and a half working on this just for you all especially the person who requested this, i will be making this into a little series since it was getting pretty long! anyways i really hope you guys enjoyed this, remember feel free to request anything!

#nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez imagine

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weirdmageddon · 1 year ago

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i love these tags this person is so right

actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?

i wanna get into this actually

(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)

even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie

but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"

im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,

don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity

dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor

(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)

despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him

rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said

and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol

roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"

side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.

i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect

but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?

yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise

so, dave's environment

the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors

his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities (source)

roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok

what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)

rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:

and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear

but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable

there two types of ironies at play here:

seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)

doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)

you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.

"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"

how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1

he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”

dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.

*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift

dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:

if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool. even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.

basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"

speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use

oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”

btw dave lalonde would look like this to me

#homestuck #homestuck meta #dave strider #mom lalonde #roxy lalonde #hs #strilonde guardian swap

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lunebulous · 3 days ago

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Playing with your body in non-sexual ways

A.N: This is my first time writing fanfiction. Any feedback is very much appreciated. I hope you enjoy! I have no idea what tags to put here so, just trust me bro. cw: thigh worshipping (zayne), plus-size reader (rafayel).

Xavier

There wouldn’t be a lot of occasions where his caresses would be in a non sexual way - that's why he's known to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. But don't get me wrong, being sexual does not equal condescending or rough. Not for him. - well, sometimes. - It's just that if he focuses too long on your face when you’re sleeping soundly, or when you're admiring the lantern lights at another festival, he gets this sensation that he should own you once more, just to be sure you're his.

So when he kisses, it's only to leave you wanting more of him. So when he caresses your body, it's only to let himself know he's the one making your skin get goosebumps. So when he embraces all of you in a tight hug, it’s only to feel like you’re finally real this time. And when all of these inevitably turn into that feeling of ownership again, he frowns internally. Initially, he wishes that he was different and that he wouldn’t feel like this everytime he stops to think about you; But it's just so much love that it overflows from his heart, dripping right into the lowest part of his torso. When he realizes, he’s slowly kissing you against the wall again. He can’t help it, he's naturally drawn to you like a magnet. And that feeling gives place to a necessity, a craving that hurts so deliciously he gives up on being different. So when you gasp for air and tug at his hair to breathe a little, he just can’t understand why. Or how can you do this to him. He wants more. And more. And more. He needs it so bad he can’t help but pin your hands to the wall so he can kiss you longer, raveling in the way you squirm under him. After all, just because he can't help it, doesn't mean he's not enjoying every second of the fruits of his own possessiveness.

So he caresses you all the time - the problem is that it often turns into a primal need to own and to explore each cute face - each little sound - you make for him. He feels like a victim to his own desires. Poooor Xavier… (irony included).

Rafayel

Rafayel is completely enamoured by your hands, making sure to always kiss them whenever he gets the chance. When he doesn’t, he’s more than expected to caress them while you wait for food in a nice restaurant, or when you’re walking on the shore with him. He is the king of intertwining your hands all the time - never letting go even if for brief moments. He says his bodyguard should be aware of where he is at all times, and when you replied that having one of your hands busy would actually get in the way if danger arrives, he puffed his chest, saying something along the lines of “i’m lucky I have the best bodyguard that can fight 10 men with only one hand then!”. You sighed, giggling because of him. “You’re not actually expecting me to fight with 10 men without letting go of your hand, right?” “Well, I'm pretty sure that was on your job description when I hired you.” “No it wasn’t.” “Now it is.” --- He also kisses and grabs your stomach and love handles all the time, especially when lying down, like now. There were some times when it made you feel a little bit insecure, but he always buried his face on it with a big smile, hugging your waist. When you voiced your insecurity to him for the first time, he simply said: “Well, I never saw a painting of any muse that didn’t have enough body for me to drown in it. - he stares up at you intently, before looking at your stomach again. - In fact, it is the only scenario where drowning would be possible for me. - Now he’s getting a hold of your love handles. - And actually, i'd love it. Thank you, my muse!” Right before nuzzling his face on your belly again, giggling. You blush furiously, caressing his purple locks, but he’s too busy to see it.

Zayne

Zayne would always need a bit of a push to touch you like he wants to - and you know that. He’s slowly coming out of his shell and being more confident when it comes to being intimate with you, getting over his irrational fear of hurting you again. The ‘push’ he got today was seeing you come home after brunch with your friends, wearing a dark and muted red lipstick, blended on your lips so perfectly it reminded him of a vintage doll. He made a note to himself to compliment you later when you had your attention on him - because you were busy taking off your shoes, your coat and yapping about some BIG gossip you just found out. He listens attentively, putting two and two together with you as you happily stride towards him.

You sit beside him on the couch and hug his arm, leaning on his shoulder. He places his hand between your thighs, trying not to pay too much attention to it - a task quite hard for him, as you were wearing light brown stockings that made your oh-so-loved thighs look even more bite-deserving; But he tries to shake the thought away.

It doesn’t take long before you’re well-invested in the documentary he is watching, but the position is getting quite uncomfortable now, so you crawl between his legs and rest your back against his chest, both of you laying down on the chaise part of the couch. First he stares at you, finding adorable how you don’t hesitate before making yourself comfortable with him. He lays a chaste kiss on the crown of your head, making you snuggle against him even more, getting it just right like two puzzle pieces. And he swears to himself he’s a good man. He is not going to turn this into something more just because your ass grinded against him innocently, no, no. Breathe, you touch-starved man!

But the same man now is fighting for his life to NOT look at your thighs, the stockings making them look so shiny for him, he couldn't help himself but imagine the shadows his fingers pressing onto your skin would look like. He imagined you in not-so-innocent lightings more than he’d ever admit, and as his thoughts stray away, he doesn’t notice how he’s been caressing your chest and collarbones for some time now, lightly using his fingertips to circle around your skin, as if memorizing each part of it. Then he's slowly directing his way to your neck, with four fingers on one side and his thumb on the other, going up and down with featherly touches as his eyes are glued to your legs, completely blank, admiring each curve going from the arch of your feet to your calves, and then to your thighs, stopping at the start of your tight skirt. Now he’s gripping your neck - just lightly pressing on it, your airflow is completely free. (for now). You can’t help but wonder what’s going on inside his mind, lying to yourself that feeling his firm hand around your neck is not making you want to rub your legs together, but you're already doing it a bit, discreetly, not knowing you’re being very thoroughly watched. As he’s breathing deeper to try to not get excited, you feel his hand slowly letting go of your neck and you whine inwardly at it. But then his hands hesitantly go higher, his slender fingers sliding across your chin to play with your lips as he remembered to compliment you. He opens his mouth to do it, but being so lost in thought he just stops. Staring at your legs with an empty gaze, completely out of it. God, they’d look so good around his cock. Fuck. You look up, a bit surprised with his actions, slowly tilting your head to the side, looking at him. - the movement makes him get out of his trance, suddenly confused as to how his fingers got to your lips - but as if reading his mind, you part them, waiting. And then he gets it. The key to making himself touch you like he wants to is just to - not think. It makes sense, it's a part of him he never let himself explore. He then lets himself do what he wants, sliding his middle and index finger on your tongue, experimenting. As you close your lips around them, looking at him so puppy-eyed, he can't help but smirk as realizing he could get used to this very quickly. You start feeling him growing against your ass now.

He presses down on your tongue, smiling. “You look so beautiful wearing this color, love.”

So, Zayne doesn’t play with any part of your body - because as soon as he does it, he gets a problem under his trousers. And now that he knows how to let go of control, - you got one too.

Sylus

Sylus wouldn’t be the type of man to touch you without being full-on intentional with it. The same amount of hate he has towards ‘quickies’, he has for the idea of touching your most sensitive parts without being completely devoted to them. So when playing with you, it is usually filled with admiration and love, silently appreciating your presence by his side. That’s why you often find him mindlessly braiding your hair as you lay your head on his lap to watch a movie, or how he gently runs his fingernails - once claws - on your calf under the table when he’s discussing his next moves with the twins. Yeah, sometimes his hands wander a little bit higher, a little bit firmer, but always looking at you to watch your reaction; as if to just - test the waters, tease you to see your ears turn red.. or warm you up for what’s coming next.

#writing #love and deepspace #fanfiction #fanfic #lads #sylus #xavier #rafayel #zayne #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #sylus x reader #rafayel x reader

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globalrebrand · 3 months ago

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How long do you think it would take the reader to actually fall in love with Capitano because they're in an arranged marriage? And the other way around

Starting with Capitano!

Capitano will always uphold the values of marriage and will be a model husband. He is an a generous yet pragmatic provider. Capitano will not spoil you, but he will ensure what you have is more than adequate for your needs. However, above all, Capitano is honest and loyal, he will never lie or attempt to deceive you.

At first this ideal husband behavior is more so because he respects the institution of marriage very highly and not necessarily because of who you are, though Capitano makes an effort to get to know you. He questions you about your habits and hobbies and after a while will think about how to cater to them.

Capitano actually has rather high expectations of his spouse. I imagine Capitano was pushed to marry due to his status and position, so he will want a partner who is independent, intelligent and dutiful. He will expect the same level of respect in the union that he is giving to you. The irony is that while he picked these characteristics to get a lover who will not disturb him, Capitano is deeply attracted to diligent, mindful and clever individuals. So as the reader demonstrates these traits, Capitano begins to fall in love with them, but due to their independent nature they aren't be the most receptive to the ways in which Capitano shows love, namely by being over protective and insisting on doing everything together. He's home so seldom that what little free time he has he would prefer to spend with his spouse. This becomes especially apparent the longer you two are together.

As detailed above, Capitano possesses many admirable traits which on paper make him easy to fall for, however this ignores his blunt, keen and sometimes prideful nature which depending on who you are, could rub you the wrong way at first.

He is an acute observer even without you detailing the quotidian goings on of your daily life, Capitano will start to notice and comment. He isn't necessarily critiquing, just seeing and noting. He will casually tell you about yourself which can be incredibly jarring at first, especially if you're unused to being seen by the people in your life. However...when it comes to himself, he doesn't freely offer information which can be frustrating. He wants to expose all of your inner workings, but is very selective when divulging his own. He begins to share more freely when you earn his trust, which builds slower than his actual affections for you. Capitano will come to love you before he fully trusts you. It's just the nature of the fatui that make him so suspicious and not necessarily you. He wants to trust you but years in his position have made it difficult for him to lower his guard.

Basically, Capitano appreciates a partner who is brave, self-sufficent and above all loyal. Devote yourself to him and Capitano will find his feelings changing rather soon into your union. Ultimately it takes maybe 2-3 months for Capitano to fall for the reader.

The reader in A Lady's Secret is incredibly independent and self-sufficient young woman from a modest background who knows what she wants and doesn't require Capitano's support. She is principled, hardworking, and doesn't meddle in Capitano's affairs. In fact she develops a pretty well rounded life outside of their marriage. She has season tickets to the ballet, successfully convinces Capitano to let her have two dogs (large thick furred beasts who can easily takedown wolves) and walks them around the forest to visit their distant neighbors when the winds aren't too cold.

The reader does these activities alone because she assumes that Capitano wouldn't want to join her but when he quietly questions why she doesn't invite him she starts to incorporate him into these activities. Not all of them. Capitano has no interest in visiting the neighbors, but he can be convinced to attend a quiet night at the ballet and walk the dogs in the forest. And the reader while initially worried she'd find that his company dulled her experiences, is delighted to realize that she actually prefers his accompaniment.

They definitely butted heads in the beginning when Capitano demanded that she inform him every time she left the house. She wasn't too keen on her whereabouts being surveilled, as she was used to coming and going as she pleased. Initially he was more flexible about these things but as he began to get attached he assigned her a personal body guard which had her really annoyed with him. This led to an argument where she called "smothering" and he called her "stubborn."

The difficult part for the reader early on is that she's intensely attracted to Capitano so she starts the sexual part of their relationship right away, but her feelings for him are slower to crystalize and Capitano uses this to his advantage. When you're still arguing with him about a security detail, he'll be withholding until you agree to his terms.

For someone as independent as the reader she struggles with Capitano's desire for control over her. He's not possessive per se but he is very very over protective and unfortunately due to his position he has every right to be. She just resents that she doesn't quite feel like his equal when he frets over her like this.

However, as she comes to appreciate his company, she is more permissive of Capitano's particular brand of affection which is demonstrated through ensuring her safety. Once the reader learns to appreciate Capitano's brand of care she falls for him. He is a supportive partner and an excellent listener. He is stoic and gruff but she knows from his actions that he cares for her deeply. I would say it takes the reader about 5-7 months to reciprocate his feelings in earnest.

#capitano x reader #genshin capitano #capitano #il capitano #capitano genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

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hi lovely I was wondering if you could do a fic about a touch starved reader where she’s just really needy and wants to be held but is nervous to ask? and it’s just very fluffy and sweet, thank you so much!!

Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting!

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Sirius is cozied up between James’ legs on the couch, tuned into his phone while James watches the football match on TV, and you’re oozing a jealousy so tender it hurts.

It’s silly, but you can’t help thinking about how warm they must both be. James has one of his forearms draped over Sirius’ chest, their hands linked casually. Sirius’ bony, pale fingers intertwined with James’ thicker ones. They look comfortable and at ease with each other in a way that feels so out of reach. You wish you could join them, but they look too happy like this. You couldn’t ask them to move.

“Dove?”

You blink, focussing back on Remus. “Sorry?”

“I asked how your meeting went.” A bit of concern digs into the space between his brows as he continues stirring the pot of soup on the stove. You give him a little smile, and it melts away.

“Oh, not bad at all.” Today you had your first team meeting at your new job. You’d been nervous leading up to it, worried your boss would ask you to introduce yourself or present something, but it had blown over smoothly. “I was stressed for nothing, I didn’t even have to talk.”

“Mm, good for you.” Your boyfriend gives you a knowing look, well aware that your shyness can sometimes get in the way of you sharing your ideas. “I’m glad it went well. I hope you start to feel comfortable enough to talk soon, though.”

“Maybe,” you say agreeably, moving closer to him so you can rest the side of your head on his bicep. It’s an awkward sort of lean, but the most you’ll allow yourself.

You can sense Remus’ confusion even without him making a sound. You know that if you pulled back to look, you’d find a familiar little indent hovering above his nose. “Tired?” he asks.

Your heart gives a pitiful throb. Remus isn’t the most tactile of your boyfriends, but it would take so little for him to reach up with his free hand, wrap it around your shoulders. That’s all you want.

“No,” you reply, though you do sound tired, voice soft and breathy, “just love you.”

“Sweetheart.” His voice is sticky with affection, and your heart balloons with hope. You feel his arm shift underneath you. His hand comes up to hold your cheek, keeping you steady while he presses a brief kiss to the top of your head. The hand falls away. “I love you too.”

It feels ungrateful and a bit traitorous to feel so dejected after hearing those words, but you do. You leave your head where it is, heavy with a loneliness that’s completely invalid, while Remus continues stirring the soup, humming now.

“Look at them.” Sirius’ voice gets your attention from the living room, dripping with faux rancor. He’s glowering at you over the top of the couch. James begrudgingly turns from the match to look at him, half curious what he’s on about. “They’re being all ooey gooey in the kitchen without us, can you believe it?”

You sort of want to laugh at the irony.

“You were given the opportunity to join,” Remus reminds him mildly. “I said I needed help chopping, and only y/n came to my aid.”

“Yes, well I didn’t know there’d be declarations of love involved,” says Sirius, never one to be made to feel guilty.

James, on the other hand, looks a tad penitent.

“I didn’t hear you,” he says helplessly, climbing out from under Sirius. “Do you still need an extra pair of hands?”

“No, almost done now,” Remus says, but James comes anyway. He peers over Remus’ other shoulder, pecking him apologetically on the cheek.

“Smells great,” he notes appreciatively. He leans across Remus to see your face, grinning in that way of his that makes it seem like someone’s brought the sun inside. “Thanks for taking up the mantle.”

You make a quiet sound of amusement, and James’ smile fades. You hate yourself for doing it to him, even though it wasn’t intentional.

“You alright, lovie?” He scrutinizes your expression. You’re reminded that James is often more perceptive than you give him credit for. “You look a bit sad.”

“No, I’m good.” You give him a smile. Remus’ shoulder shifts under your head as he looks down, trying to see you.

James appears unconvinced. He moves behind Remus, over to where you stand. “Hug?” he offers.

God, you feel like you could cry. That wouldn’t be good.

“Sure,” you say, as if it isn’t the deepest, most desperate desire of your heart.

You turn into his arms, and he wastes no time in enveloping you. James gives the best hugs. Somehow, intuitively, he always knows just the amount of pressure you need, when to squeeze your back and when to rub it, exactly the right time to let go. It feels like he’s pouring love into you through his touch. He sets his chin on top of your head, and you swallow a happy sigh.

“I can tell something’s bothering you,” he says quietly. He sweeps a hand up and down your spine, and you shiver, pressing your palms into his back. He does it again. “Talk to me, angel.”

“I’m good,” you promise him. It’s a lot more truthful now.

Still, you can feel James’ dissatisfaction. He cups the back of your neck, thumb brushing the baby hairs at your nape. “Anything I can do?”

You clutch him to you, the fabric of his sweatshirt bunching in your hands. It smells like laundry detergent. “Just this, please.”

“Aww,” Sirius croons, and it’s not until then that you realize the other two boys have been silent. Probably worried about you. You feel instantly sheepish. “I get it. You just wanted some love, didn’t you babydoll?” You look at him over James' shoulder, and predictably, he’s insufferably smug. He sees you watching and pats the top of the couch invitingly. “Come here, sweet thing, let me fix you up.”

“I think I’m doing just fine,” James teases, but his grip loosens, one hand remaining on the small of your back as he walks you over to the couch.

“Yeah, but we can share.” Sirius rolls his eyes. He grabs for you the second you’re close enough, hauling you up against him while James flops down on your other side. “What game are you playing, standing over there and looking all forlorn?” he asks you, peppering your cheek with kisses. A startled giggle spurts out of you, but he remains completely serious. “If you wanted a cuddle, all you had to do was ask.”

“It seemed dramatic,” you admit, though now that Sirius has got your face squished in his hand and James’ arm is draped around your shoulder, your silence feels a bit dramatic too. “And kind of needy.”

“Babe.” Sirius is heartbroken, pulling back to give you a horrified look. “Being needy is my thing. I hardly think asking for a hug could challenge my hard-earned reputation.”

“You’re not needy,” you say warmly, but Sirius only rolls his eyes as if you’re being difficult.

“Anyway, wanting a hug is hardly needy,” James chimes in. “I’m always happy to give you one.”

“Same here,” Remus says from the kitchen, sounding a bit apologetic. “Though I wish you would have asked, dove. I can’t read minds like Jamie can.”

Your chest tightens guiltily. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says easily. “Listen, dinner’s almost done, but want to put on a film to watch while we eat? I could make it up to you with a cuddle.”

“That sounds great,” you reply thankfully, and James grabs the remote to begin going through the movies while Sirius gets comfy against the side of the couch. He lifts your legs to drape them over his.

“Good luck getting you away from me,” he murmurs conspiratorially. James chuckles, arm a welcome weight around your shoulders. “I’m not giving you up.”

It seems like there was room for you after all.

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solar-wing · 10 months ago

Text

⚣ It's Not A Competition 🥇

⚣👊🏻 A/N → SURPRISE! double post today! I've been wanting to do a Clark Kent post forever but never had any good ideas. Then, this popped into my mind. Also, I'm really trying to clear out my drafts and any old requests. WARNINGS: Canon-Typical Violence | Jealousy | Established Relationship

⚣👊🏻 Summary → Dark Knight this and Dark Knight that. What about Superman?! He's also a great hero! Better than Batman, at least. The guy doesn't even have powers. But that's what makes him more interesting and cool, according to Y/N. And frankly, Clark has had quite enough and intends to show him why Superman is way better than Batman.

⚣👊🏻 Words → 4.7K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 👊🏻

Clark just didn’t get it.

Why was it that Y/N was so obsessed with Batman and not Superman? All the young reporter ever talked about was the Dark Knight and how he was so cool and mysterious. Going on and on about his awesome gadgets and the fact that he had no powers, which made him so interesting.

Clark very much would beg to differ.

“You know, Superman can shoot lasers out of his eyes, and I heard he can move faster than the speed of sound,” Clark pointed out while walking with Y/N down the sidewalk. They decided to go out for lunch and since the Daily Planet was so close to one of Y/N's favorite restaurants downtown, he figured, why not just walk together?

“Clark, not this again,” Y/N chuckled while sipping his drink.

“I’m sorry, you just always talk about how great Batman is, and I’m not saying he’s bad, but I don’t get how he’s better than Superman?”

“You know, you’re starting to sound like Lois with all your Superman praise and comparison.”

“Well, she’s not wrong. I mean, come on. What can Batman do that Superman can’t?” Clark asked, looking down at his boyfriend while waiting for an answer.

“Batman’s quicker on his feet. He thinks of solutions faster and more creatively than what I’ve seen from Superman. Plus, he’s resourceful. The guy’s got a freaking jet. The only people I could think of that own jets and planes and all the crazy gadgets he has would probably be Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne.”

Clark tried not to react to the irony of that statement, rather focusing on how he could combat that logic even though it was true. He had to admit that his comrade, whether in the field or in practice, was very good at analyzing a situation and using whatever he had around him to his advantage.

Still, it didn’t mean he was better than him.

“Well, Superman can also fly, and as many have witnessed, is crazy strong.”

“Yes, he is. But if Batman can afford a jet, I’m pretty sure he can afford a jetpack, too. Plus, we all know how strong Superman is, some more than others. Their insurance claims can definitely speak to how strong he is.”

That last line Y/N said was more so to himself than as a statement to Clark. However, it didn’t take away the slight sting from his words, considering how true they were.

“So you’re saying Superman is reckless and bad at his job or something?” Clark accused.

“What? No, I’m not saying that at all. Why are you getting so defensive about this? You’re acting as if you know the guy. Wait, do you know him?” Y/N asked, now looking up at his giant of a boyfriend.

Sometimes, he wondered what kind of genes ran in Clark’s family. It was a bit of a puzzle to Y/N why the six-foot-something man was in journalism rather than something that seemed more his speed, like fitness or athletics.

“No, of course not. I just don’t think it’s fair or even logical to compare Superman to someone like Batman, considering what each of them has respectfully achieved, not to mention the state of their cities and everything. I mean, have you ever been to Gotham before?” Clark asked, doing his best to not draw any more curiosity or suspicion out of the younger male.

Not that he was doing a good job of that in the first place.

Clark just wished he could’ve shown Y/N why Superman was better than Batman. They’d only been dating for a few months so it wasn’t reasonable or even smart for the Kryptonian to consider revealing his identity to him, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Clark, it’s not a competition. You know that, right?” Y/N said, placing his hand on Clark’s arm.

They paused in their steps, Clark looking down at the gentle hand lying across his forearm before looking up into the eyes that always put him under a spell. He smiled to himself, thinking of the fact that even if Y/N favored Batman over Superman, Clark was still the real winner, because he had him.

He took his hand in his own, doing his best to contain his excitement pulse at the feeling of his larger hand surrounding the smaller one in his grip. Y/N was still a male, so his hand wasn’t dainty or small by any means, but compared to Clark’s, it might as well have been.

“Yeah, I know. Sorry, I got a little bit crazy.” Clark apologized with a small kiss on the shorter man’s hand causing a slight blush to appear on the smaller male’s cheeks.

“It’s ok. Besides, I like a little bit of crazy. Keeps things interesting.” Y/N said before continuing their walk towards Clark’s place of work.

‘You have no idea,’ Clark thought to himself as he followed behind, letting himself be tugged along.

They returned to the Daily Planet to find everywhere in a buzz, chattering excitedly with each other as various individuals were either running to the bathroom with pouches of makeup and skincare and others at their desks touching up their hair and clothes.

“What’s going on?” Clark asked aloud as he strode into the office while still holding Y/N’s hand.

“Was it like this when we left?” His boyfriend asked, chuckling at the comical movements and gestures of the rushing to get re-ready for whatever was happening.

“No, it was actually the opposite,” The reporter stated before eventually spotting Lois at her desk, who was also touching up her makeup and hair. He made his way over to the desk area, narrowly avoiding multiple people rushing while pulling Y/N closer to him to keep him from getting bumped into.

“Lois, what’s going on?”

“Oh, hey, Smallville. Hello, Y/N. Didn’t you both get the emergency email Perry sent to everyone earlier?” She said in her usual fast-paced, business tone while curling her eyelashes.

“No, We were at lunch. What was the email about?”

“Oh, Clark. Must I always have to save your butt?” Lois said before handing her phone over to the man, Y/N chuckling behind him at the comment.

Clark threw him a look while Y/N did his best to keep a neutral face before reading over the email.

“Bruce Wayne is coming to the Daily Planet?”

Y/N's eyes went comically large at the mention, immediately jumping to read the email for himself, “No way!”

Lois smirked to herself before grabbing her phone back from the man, while Clark just stared at his boyfriend in jealous shock from his excited outburst. “Yep. Wayne Enterprises has announced its support of various major liberal movements and is donating large proceeds to different organizations calling for massive change in the nation. And with this being an election year, many political figures and business entities are feeling a little uneasy at this sudden new support from the tech giant. And yours truly, landed the exclusive interview with him to get all the nitty and gritty details .”

Y/N’s eyes were almost bugging out of his head, before he ran to the bathroom himself, snatching his hand from Clark’s who looked desperately after him.

“Dammit, Bruce.” The reporter growled under his breath.

“You say something?” Lois asked while powdering her nose.

“No,” Clark responded gruffly, an irritated glint in his eye before walking to his own desk.

After everyone has ridiculously made themselves extra presentable, including Y/N much to Clark’s annoyance, the pair stand outside the room with a few others, watching through the glass pane walls as the interview is broadcast live to the entire nation. Lois asked Mr. Wayne various questions, ranging from his real intentions behind his charitable donations to whether he was looking to begin any political endeavors and win the favor of the public.

Bruce answers every question with confidence and suaveness, leaving no room for questions about his actions, and denies any political motivations. Y/N watched impressed from the other end while Clark just looked around with a grim and irritated look, his arms crossed as he listened to the interview and watched his boyfriend fanboy over his secret comrade.

“Well, you certainly seem like the charming and noble benefactor, Mr. Wayne. I can see why you're known as ‘Gotham’s Favorite Son.’ I have to ask though, even if you truly have no political ambitions, aren’t you worried that these donations and announcements along with the unwavering stance you’ve taken on these political topics will inevitably place a target on you?” Lois asked, notepad and pen sitting with poise and precision, ready to take down every little thing the billionaire said.

“Wow, I can see why she’s so respected. She’s nailing this interview.” Y/N commented.

Clark nodded to that. Even if he wasn’t feeling the most agreeable at the moment, he’d always give hats off to Lois’ skills. The woman was a powerhouse when it came to this stuff.

“Well, first off, thank you for your earlier comment. I don’t think of myself as anyone’s favorite, but even I can’t control what the public says or does,” Bruce responded with his ever-so-billion-dollar smile, earning a laugh from Lois and probably every other American tuning into this broadcast, including Y/N.

Clark, however, wasn’t impressed. He’d heard funnier.

“But, to answer your question,” Bruce continued, “...any move in the business or even the political world I imagine can be considered a risky one. I’m not going to pretend that my decisions have made some very happy, and others very unhappy. That’s life. You can’t please everyone. But, to sit and accept things as the way they are for fear of retaliation or backlash is misery in itself. I believe anyone who doesn’t speak up for what they truly believe or want for fear of ‘rocking the boat’ is just content with living in their own misery. And, let me be clear before I’m canceled—I know the meaning behind that now thanks to my kids, particularly my two youngest sons—I’m not saying someone who’s genuinely content and happy with where they are is included in this. I’m specifically talking to those who want change, and want to create a better world, but are waiting for others to do it for them.”

Despite its clichéness, many in the hall gave a small clap to the CEO’s words, Y/N looking thoroughly impressed himself.

“Wow, he really is an inspiring man,” Y/N commented.

“He’s alright,” Clark said in response.

Y/N gave the taller man a suspicious side look, “Alright, what’s going on with you? You’ve been standing there pouting

since this interview started. What, do you not like Bruce Wayne or something?"

Clark sighed before looking down at his boyfriend. It was true, he wasn't really liking the guy at the moment. But, it was just because he was so jealous. He didn’t like how Y/N was looking at him, or how he was talking about him.

It wasn't fair.

The reporter wanted Y/N to be looking at him and only him like that, and he wanted his attention and affection, and he wanted him to only talk about him like that. It was petty, and it was selfish, but Clark didn’t care.

He just wanted Y/N to only admire Clark Kent. not Bruce Wayne.

Only Superman, not Batman.

Despite Y/N's earlier words about it not being a competition, Clark knew the truth. It was a competition, one he was not planning on losing.

"No, I don't not like him. I'm just not that impressed, is all. He's not a superhero." Clark said.

"Neither is Lex Luthor. But, that doesn't stop the public from making him the villain in his story. I'm sure there's a lot more to Bruce Wayne than the media is letting on."

"Oh, trust me. There's more to him than what meets the eye," Clark mumbled to himself as the interview was getting ready to wrap up.

"Well, on behalf of the Daily Planet, I'd like to thank you for joining us today. Your words are certainly ones that will not go unheard by many. I look forward to—"

Before Lois could finish speaking, the lights in the building suddenly went out, leaving the office pitch black. A few people in the hall gasp, Y/N instinctively grabbing Clark's arm, who in turn places his hand over the smaller man's own.

"What's going on?" Someone asks.

"I don't know. It's almost like a blackout, but it can't be because we have backup generators. They should've turned it on by now." Another responded.

"Clark, what's going on?" Y/N asked toward his boyfriend, who was holding the smaller male closer to him out of instinct.

"I'm not exactly sure..."

Just as he said that, the lights came back on, and everyone was looking around confused as to what the source of the blackout was.

"Oh my god!" One of the people in the hall screamed suddenly as everyone turned back towards the interview room. Inside the room, some members of the crew suddenly had masks with insignias covering their faces on them. One of them was behind Lois holding a dagger to her neck while another stood to the side, pointing a gun directly at Bruce's head.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt, Ms. Lane," The individual in the middle of the room said, "But, this interview isn't over just yet."

"Who the hell are you people?!" Lois asked, fear and anger in her eyes as the blade was held to her neck.

"Wouldn't you like to know? As for Mr. Wayne, we're going to have a little chat. I suggest you and your friends don't follow or intervene. Otherwise, this broadcast won't be the only thing getting cut" The masked individual threatened, nodding to Lois.

"Don't you dare touch her," Bruce warned, his expression serious, as he got ready to stand.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Mr. Wayne. We wouldn't want anything bad to happen, now would we? Especially with all of America watching right now."

Bruce sat back down, knowing that his opponent was right. He couldn't let them hurt Lois, and he certainly couldn't risk any lives in this room.

"Don't worry, Mr. Wayne. We'll make this quick," The leader said as one of the other masked goons went to lock the door that led inside the interview room.

"Clark, we have to do something," Y/N said, his heart racing a mile a minute.

"I know. Stay here. I'll be back." Clark said before running off, leaving the smaller male alone.

"What? Clark, wait! Where are you going?" Y/N called after him, but the taller man didn't hear him, already too far away.

'What the hell is he doing?' Y/N thought to himself before turning his attention back towards the situation in front of him.

As Clark rounded the corner and made his way down the hallway, he made sure no one was watching him before he ran as fast as he could into the supply closet. Once inside, he quickly changed into his suit before taking off through the backdoor.

"So, how does it feel knowing that you're on the side of the wrong? How does it feel knowing that no matter what you do, you'll never be able to fix the mess you made? All the lives lost because of you," The masked man asked Bruce, who was sitting calmly in his chair, his eyes not showing an ounce of fear.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't. None of you wealthy elites do. You don't know the pain and suffering your companies and your products cause to others. You don't know the misery you cause. Well, allow us to show you." The man said before signaling his partners.

One of them immediately moved and grabbed a hold of the camera, pointing it directly at the masked man in the center.

"Hello, Metropolis. And hello, America. If you're watching this, that means you're just as much a part of this as we are. if you've been sitting here listening to the lies and promises of a better world by this man and his kind, you are as much a part of his schemes as he is. It is because of people like him that we have the world we live in. It's because of people like him that so many of us suffer. It's because of people like him that the world will only continue to rot and decay until there is nothing left but a pile of ashes. But, we will not be the ones who burn. We will not be the ones who lose. We will not be the ones who suffer, not anymore. Today, we fight back. Today, we will show the world that we will not be silenced, we will not be oppressed. We will not allow the likes of him and his kind to continue to control us anymore with false promises of a better tomorrow while lining their own pockets. Today, we say enough is enough. Today, we rise. Today, we will take back what is rightfully ours. Today, we take back our freedom and our lives from the rich and corrupt." The man spoke, his words filled with conviction and determination, but also hatred and poison as he stared deep into the camera.

"And if any of you try to stop us, then you will be considered just as guilty as the rest of them. We will not be silenced. We will not be ignored. And if you think that the likes of Batman and Superman will save you, I wouldn't be too sure of that..."

As soon as the leader was done with his speech, the sound of the glass shattering was heard as Superman broke through the windows, flying into the room before stopping directly in front of the man holding the camera.

"But, I am..." The Man of Steel said, shooting a laser beam at the dagger being held by the goon threatening Lois. He immediately dropped the blade as it became too hot, giving the Daily Planet reporter the opportunity she needed to escape his hold.

"Bastards," She cursed, turning around and delivering a kick to the masked man's groin.

He groaned out in pain, falling to the floor before Lois punched him in the face, knocking him out.

Superman turned his attention back toward the masked man standing in the center, "I believe it's time for you to take a hike."

"Not yet. We still have unfinished business," The man said before signaling his other henchman. The man immediately aimed his gun at the Kryptonian, firing shot after shot into him.

Superman stood his ground as the bullets hit him, before eventually, the gun ran out.

"You're right. This is definitely the end," Superman said as he flew toward the man, knocking him out before he could reload his gun.

As Superman finished off the last of the henchmen, the leader turned back towards the camera, "Sorry, Superman. But, the damage has already been done. I hope you enjoyed this little taste of what's to come."

Before the Kryptonian could stop him, the man took out a smoke bomb, throwing it onto the ground and covering the room in a cloud of smoke.

"Crap," Superman cursed, unable to see as the man escaped.

As the smoke began to clear, Bruce took out his phone, "Alfred, I need you to track this signal."

"Understood, sir. I've also informed the police and they're on their way," Alfred responded.

"Good," Bruce said before turning back towards the room.

The actual camera crew was not out in the hall, hugging their co-workers who were all relieved at their safety. The broadcast was cut from the air, but there was no doubt every TV station from here to San Francisco was talking about it. Y/N was standing nearby, his eyes filled with awe and admiration as he stared up at Superman.

There was something oddly familiar about him.

...

Nah.

"That was incredible, Mr. Wayne," Lois said.

"I could say the same thing about you. I'm glad you're ok."

Lois smiled at him, "You were worried about me?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" Bruce asked, a small smile forming on his lips.

Lois blushed slightly before turning back to look at Superman, who was now standing right in front of the two.

"Thank you for the save, Superman," Lois said, extending her hand out to the Kryptonian.

"My pleasure," Superman said, shaking the woman's hand before his attention was drawn toward Bruce who just gave him an appreciative nod. Though the look in his eyes signaled they would definitely be communicating about things later.

As Bruce and Lois moved towards the hallway, Lois spotted Y/N who was standing close to the door peeking inside.

"Oh Y/N, there you are! Thank goodness, you're alright." Lois said, walking over to him and hugging him.

"Yeah, I'm ok. Are you?" He asked, looking up at the woman.

"I'm fine. I'm tougher than I look."

"That's good to hear. And, it's good to see you’re okay as well Mr. Wayne. That was scary." Y/N said, turning his attention to the billionaire.

"Yes, I'm glad I'm alright, too," Bruce said, his attention on Y/N.

"Oh, Bruce Wayne, this is Y/N L/N. He's one of our upcoming new reporters along with Clark Kent, who you've met before." Lois said, introducing the two.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne," Y/N said, extending his hand out.

Bruce took it, giving the younger man a firm handshake, "The pleasure is all mine."

As the two looked at each other, Clark was standing nearby, his gaze focused on the two, his fists clenched.

'I swear to Rao...' He thought to himself, jealousy coursing through his body as he watched the two interact.

"So, Mr. Wayne, what do you think that was all about?" Y/N asked.

Bruce turned to look at the woman, an amused eyebrow raised, "He must be getting trained by you," He said, sparking a laugh from Lois and another eye roll from the Kryptonian before flying off, "And please, call me Bruce. Mr. Wayne makes me feel old."

"Bruce, then. What do you think that was all about?" Y/N asked again.

"Well, I can't be certain, but based on their words and their actions, I'd say they were a group of anarchists."

"Anarchists?"

"Yes. They're not an uncommon group. Many people are growing tired of the way things are in this country. With the state of the economy and the government, it's only a matter of time before things begin to boil over."

"So, you think this is going to happen more often?"

"I'm not sure. But, I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of them."

Y/N nodded his thoughts on the events that had transpired earlier.

"Y/N!" Clark called, interrupting the conversation.

"Clark, there you are! You had me worried sick," The smaller male said while hugging his boyfriend, missing the sharp look the taller man was throwing at the billionaire.

"I just went to alert the building security and the police. Seems everything turned alright though since Superman showed up," Clark said, wrapping an arm around the younger man's waist while still giving a side eye to Bruce who was watching with amusement.

"Yes, thank goodness he did. I'm sure we all owe him a huge thanks for his services."

"Yes, indeed we do. But, unfortunately, I must be going now. It was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N." Bruce said, extending his hand once more to the younger man, who took it, shaking it gently.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, too."

Bruce smiled at him before turning back to Lois, "And it was a pleasure seeing you again, Lois."

"Likewise, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce smirked, "I do believe we're a bit past the formalities now, Lois. Please, call me Bruce."

"Of course. Bruce." The woman replied, her tone flirty and her expression coy.

Y/N noticed this and turned to look at Clark, whose expression was blank as he looked on.

"Will do, Lois. I look forward to our next meeting," Bruce said before stopping in front of Clark.

"Good seeing you as well Clark, as short-lived as it was," Bruce said, extending his hand out for a handshake.

Clark reluctantly took it, the handshake lasting longer than was necessary.

"Likewise," Clark replied.

Bruce nodded, his eyes giving the reporter a knowing look before he was escorted out by security.

Once the billionaire was out of sight, Clark and Y/N decided to leave as well, making their way towards the elevator.

"Well, that was a crazy day," Y/N said.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"Do you think Bruce Wayne knows Batman?"

Clark stopped mid-step, a shocked expression on his face as he looked down at his boyfriend.

"Are you serious right now? You can't be serious?" The taller man said with an indignant expression.

"What?"

"You're still thinking of Batman after Superman just came and saved everyone?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, he's a hero too. They both are. Besides, Superman is always getting most of the credit, don't you think? It would make sense if they were working together. You know, the world's greatest detective and the world's greatest hero, solving crime and catching the bad guys. Wouldn't that be so cool?" Y/N asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement at the thought.

"No, not really. I don't see why that would be a good idea," Clark said, rolling his eyes.

Y/N sighed, "Clark, remember what we talked about earlier about it not being a competition?"

Clark looked down at the smaller man, his eyes filled with frustration, "Yeah, but it doesn't mean you have to obsess over Batman. Superman is just as obsessed-worthy!"

"Clark, seriously, what is up with you? It's not like I want to marry him or something."

"You're acting like you want to," Clark mumbled under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Look, Clark. I'm not going to say I'm not a fan of Batman. I mean, I think he's cool. But, that doesn't mean that I'm not a fan of Superman either. I'm a fan of both of them. I think they're both great heroes, and I think they both do good work."

"But, you don't think that Batman is cooler, or that he's better than Superman?" Clark asked, his expression pleading.

"I mean, I guess. But, why does that matter? Why are you so hung up about this?"

"Because, I—" Clark started before stopping, knowing he was about to give away his identity.

"You what?"

"I just want you to think of me, is all," Clark said, looking down at the ground, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Y/N's heart softened at the confession, the older man looking like a little kid who just got his favorite toy taken away. He stepped forward, cupping the taller man's face in his hands, causing him to look up.

"Clark, I do think about you. I think about you all the time and I love how protective you are of me. Whether I like Batman or Superman more isn't going to change that" Y/N said, trying his best to ease his boyfriend's fears.

"Promise?" Clark asked.

Y/N chuckled, "I promise."

"Good," Clark smiled while leaning down to place a kiss against his boyfriend's lips, "You should still like Superman more."

Y/N rolled his eyes, "Sure thing, Clark. I'll work on that."

"Thank you."

"Whatever. Now come on, we now have a celebratory date to go on." Y/N said as he grabbed Clark's hand.

"What are we celebrating?" Clark asked with a laugh as he was pulled towards the elevator.

It was always adorable watching the smaller male pull Clark around like it was nothing.

"Surviving our first criminal encounter together," Y/N said while hitting the first-floor button.

"First?"

"Honey, we live in a city with sky-high insurance because a superhero lives here. You really think this will be the last?"

He definitely doesn't.

☀️ | Clark Kent/Superman | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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kyupidos · 5 months ago

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08/16/24 — twisted wonderland <3

with each other — summary. ‘miscellaneous actions with diasomnia and octavinelle <3.’

characters ;; azul, floyd, malleus, lilia , tags ;; reader is gender neutral ( you/your ), reader may or may not be yuu ( up to the reader ), reader is implied a good cook in lilia’s part, romantic fluff

a/n ( do we fw the new format? hope we do!! been a while since i made a fanfic but that ends now heh!!

a. ashengrotto — fun aquarium date!!

— the octomer was thinking about possible additions to the lounge, so to help him out you figured a date at the aquarium would do good for possible ideas. his heart skipped a beat at the idea of going out with you, not to mention he was killing two birds with one stone. hence where you and azul were walking, looking around at all the marine life as he excitedly rambled on to you about how he could use this for the aquariums at the mostro lounge.

— honestly, you found it adorable when he was comfortable enough to pour his heart out to you like this, whether about his achievements, his ideas for the mostro lounge like right now, or what was especially common, his love for you. it took him a while to get comfortable around you, especially before you started dating since he wanted to be sure you reciprocated his feelings, but here you were together now, and you were more than happy that he was able to talk to freely to you like this.

— “honestly, the implementation of these new aquariums will definitely bring in some customers, no? it’ll provide a much more welcoming atmosphere-” finally azul turned to you during his rambling, before accidentally cutting himself off when he realized how intently you were listening to him, warmly smiling at him like he was the only thing that mattered to you despite the fact you stopped at this spot just a moment ago just to see the beautiful marine life you mentioned wanting to see in the first place when you suggested the outing, the fish swimming past you behind the glass.

— “hm? what’s wrong azul, something in your throat?” you teased gently, smiling as he coughed into his fist with his flustered expression. “no, nothing..” he knew full well you were listening to him already, after all you gave a little input with some “mhm”s here and there, but sometimes he forgot how passionate you really were towards him. not like he didn’t appreciate it—the fact you were listening so intently to everything he had to say made him warm inside.

— ..the way you smiled so softly at him still made him embarrassed, though..

f. leech — “sleepy head!!” ( him to you )

— ‘huh’, floyd thinks to himself every so often, ‘his little shrimpy really loves to get their rest!’. not that he disapproves, in fact he thinks it’s cute of you! funny at times, too; it wasn’t uncommon for you to take a nap where comfortable enough, usually right beside him. that was where he found the silliest irony. you’d think you would be highest alert around him at least, but you certainly were a brave little shrimp.

— he giggled to himself as he caught you leaning against him during history class, poking at your face to see if you’d wake up any time soon. he was in one of his particularly good moods right then, though it was more rare ( not as if it was impossible, though ) for him to be in a bad one whenever you’re beside him. and you were lucky he was, and that it was one of those days he was willing to participate in class and write down notes. actually, a part of it was probably because he wanted to flaunt that he did and then let you copy it when you were awake ( at least, not before teasing you a bit ).

— and then, the softest of times. it was a beautiful thursday, the warm comfortable kind that feels like having just taken a fresh shower and laying in bed with your blanket. that’s what it felt like to you at least, so right after history class, the final class period of that day, floyd invited you to hang out in the vip section of the mostro lounge. whether or not azul actually approved was always unknown to you when he did it, but you figured it didn’t matter anyway.

— at times like these, he encouraged you to ‘catch some z’s’. excitingly telling you about his day, knowing that despite the way you slowly lulled into your slumber with his voice you believed was so lovely, you were listening anyway until your eyes finally closed. a snort of amusement just barely registering, floyd swinging his feet under the table as he brought his hand up to pat your head. and soon it droops down along with the rest of his upper body, as he slowly falls asleep right beside you, sleeping against each other comfortably.

— ( at least until azul promptly and ( more respectfully on your end, at least ) kicks the two of you out for spending too much time in there ).

m. draconia — silly library date!!

— the moment you mentioned to him your interest in twisted wonderland’s history, whether you were skilled with it or not, malleus brightened up at the idea of rambling to you at least about the history of his land, briar valley. with his hand extended to yours as he linked your hands together to bring you to the library to discuss, you really didn’t have much room to refuse—well, not like you would have refused either way. he always seemed to know how find ways to hang out with you, that was for sure.

— it was rather early into the weekend, so thankfully for the both of you he had all the time in the world to infodump about all the history he knew. that combined with the ice cream and other snacks he knew you’d like that he brought along, it truly was the perfect way to wrap up a friday afternoon. just the two of you, eating food together and talking to your hearts content as the time passed by until you finally had to separate—the both of you had your own things to do after all, as disappointing as it was that you couldn’t be together for longer.

— you hung out like this often, actually, just enjoying the time you spent together, talking about all sorts of things such as your interests; for him, it would usually be about gargoyles. that was something that didn’t take you long to figure out, given that every now and then he would sneakily go a little off topic to also bring up the history of gargoyles as well.

— the thought made you happy, that he was able to talk about his interests so carefree now that the two of you were together. after all, you saw him as who he was, rather than by his title as one of the strongest mages, the prince of briar valley; that was just one of the many things he loved about you. that you saw him as someone equal to you despite all else. that’s probably why he had to trouble chatting your ear off about all the things he liked, knowing that you really were listening to everything he had to say, and knowing you would do the same. and of course, he would always listen to anything and everything you brought to the table.

l. vanrouge — cooking!! ( gone wrong )

— lilia had a,, reputation for his cooking skills, so when he specified that he merely wanted to watch a cooking show with you, you sighed a subtle breath of relief as he tilted his head curiously at the reason why your shoulders drooped in your relief. you waved it off though, not having the heart to insult his cooking skills even though between the two of you you were always the one cooking for him so as to make sure there weren’t any safety hazards ensuing in the kitchen. thankfully enough, he loved your food enough to be fine with you being the main one to feed him and the others whenever he invited to for lunch.

— “ah, wow!! the food they’re making looks delicious, don’t you think my love?” lilia looked at the television in awe, with good reason as you watched the cooking show go on as teams slowly got eliminated to decide the eventual winner. not to mention, the food being served looked mouth wateringly good, too. “definitely..i want to try eating that kind of food.”

— perhaps that was your first mistake, as you missed the encouraged look on his face, a mischievous glint in his eye at your claim while you complained about how the judges could pass off the food being presented to them, knowing you would definitely eat it in a heartbeat. so when he invited you to diasomnia the next day, you didn’t quite know what you were in for just yet until you entered the kitchen as he..haphazardly started cooking, and given what he seemed to be trying to cook, it was for you as well. ( ..perhaps that’s why you noticed silver, sebek, and malleus slowly backing away from the kitchen before you arrived. )

— the moment he turned to face you at the sound of your footsteps, you quickly came to terms with the fact there was no escape with the way he excitedly grinned at your presence. your fate was sealed as he came towards you, clasping your hands in his. “you’re finally here! you mentioned wanting to eat what those cooks were making yesterday, no? i wanted to make something for you!”

— ..as you sat next to him as he encouraged you to eat, you came to one conclusion as you stared at your plate nervously—you need to learn to avoid his cute pleading face.

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comic-book-jawns · 4 months ago

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Ripples

“Aunt Lena!”

Alex would be the first to admit that she could have reacted poorly to her 12-year-old daughter asking if her godmother could chaperone the sixth grade field trip to the Smithsonian’s first West Coast expansion — the Museum of Magic, which she had already visited with Lena the day it opened — when Alex had gone to sign the permission slip.

And that she probably would have if her wife hadn’t preemptively swooped in, telling Esme — but really Alex — that of course she could ask whoever she wanted.

Alex had snorted to herself at the idea of Esme needing to ask. But fortunately, the preteen had already been slipping off the kitchen stool and whipping out her phone with a giddy “thanks,” so Alex had needed only to contend with Kelly’s sympathetic disappointment.

Now, two months later, the former director of the Deparment of Extranormal Operations, literally stopped in her tracks at the sight of a horde of middle schoolers, maybe half the class, beaming and cheering in unison at 6 a.m.

At least a dozen even rushed at the former CEO, taking turns giving her quick hugs, which Lena accepted with a small, but exceedingly warm, smile and faint blush.

“Ms. Smith, I think it’s time we got on the bus. Now that our guest of honor has arrived?”

Kelsey Rudd.

Despite Kelly’s cautionings, back when Esme was starting kindergarten, about not rushing to judge other parents… Alex’s rushed judgment had been correct.

Kelsey Rudd was a stuck-up bitch.

So far Alex had held her tongue, though, because Gianna Rudd had been Esme’s best friend since kindergarten. Naturally, Alex had laughed at the irony for years. Until Kelly had asked her to consider that Gianna, who was truly a very sweet girl, might not be so close to Esme solely because of Esme.

Alex had assumed her wife meant that Gianna appreciated the opportunity that playdates or hang-outs, as she was now supposed to call them, afforded her to not spend as much time at home — which she had not, to her shame, considered.

Watching Gianna meekly shuffle out of Lena’s embrace, however — as Lena tensed and stepped back simultaneously — Alex felt even more humbled.

And next thing she knew she was ruining her day.

“Hey, Ms. Smith. Need any more chaperones?”

“Actually, yeah! A couple just called out, so that would be amazing.”

Alex couldn’t tell if the clipboard-clad twenty-something was more relieved at the extra help or the excuse to step away from Kelsey… who promptly slung her arm around Alex like they were old sorority sisters.

“Any chance you got a flask in that jacket?”

——

After they stepped off the bus 12 hours later, and Kelsey offered her a parting air cheek kiss and promise to catch up again soon, Alex swore her ears were still ringing.

She knew that it had been worth it, though.

Even before she’d ushered Kelsey into a seat at the front of the bus this morning and glanced at the back to find Esme already watching her with a grateful smile.

Even before Esme and Lena finally said their goodbyes to the fan club and made it over to where she was waiting by the car and her daughter hugged her extra tight before sliding into the backseat.

“How’s the headache?”

Alex could haven’t stifled the bark of laughter if she’d tried at her sister-in-law’s dry greeting. With how sappy Lena got around Kara, Alex sometimes forgot how similar she and Lena actually were.

“I’ll live. I feel like I should be asking you, though. I had one adult talking my ear off. Not 20 tweens.”

Up close, the younger woman’s blush was quite prominent as she chuckled… or tried to.

“Lena?”

Alex stepped closer on instinct, lightly gripping her elbows, as she knew Lena found grounding.

“Thank you, Alex.”

Alex was already shaking her head, her gut twisting guilty, but apparently Lena wasn’t finished.

“I don’t know if it’s just the hormones talking, but I - I think this was one of the best days of my life.”

Alex had never stood in the way of Esme spending time with her godmother. Obviously.

Though she also, obviously, couldn’t have said before today that she realized the impact giving her blessing for Lena to volunteer at Esme’s school and occasionally asking if Lena was available to supervise Esme’s playdates over the years had had.

On her daughter’s classmates, let alone on her sister-in-law.

“Imagine if they knew you were a witch. They wouldn’t have given a shit about the museum.”

Lena laughed brightly, the way usually only Kara could make her, and Alex felt a hint of pride… until her brain stalled out.

“Wait, hormones?”

Lena slowly smiled, as widely as a wobbly chin would allow, and Alex immediately felt tears spring to her own eyes.

“Kara doesn’t know yet. I wanted to tell you first since you’re the one who made it possi—”

“I call godmother!”

As Alex flung her arms around Lena, she was perfectly positioned to watch Esme accidentally, and quite forcefully, fling her phone against the car window.

#supergirl #supercorp #supercorp ficlet #lena luthor #alex danvers #esme danvers #dansen #supercorp fanfic #supercorp fic #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl fic

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yourlocalsmutwriter · 1 month ago

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See, hear and speak no evil - Carlos Sainz x reader

You usually loved race weekends. Any chance for you to watch your boyfriend do his thing was appreciated. But not Miami. Your poor European sleep cycle was not used to this. Toto was wrong about no one watching the races in your time zone. Carlos would make fun of you for it, especially as he was living it. He teased you relentlessly for sleeping through half of the Chinese GP. Oh, the irony of you getting into the sport because your partner was an F1 driver and not the opposite. Even worse, he refused to explain the "lore" as you called it. So you Googled frantically and added the Netflix documentary to your queue. Unexplainable, you found yourself watching Tiktok edits instead. And you were gonna give it to these people with Capcut and a dream. They managed to capture Carlos' sex appeal. You had new obsessions with every clip on your fyp. His hair, his thighs, and of course, him going ballistic on the radio. You had heard your boyfriend being a little grumpy at quali or race positions before. Yapping about strategies or other drivers. Even Charles wasn't immune to a snarky comment. But then you were using your efforts to calm him or to let him talk it out. Now, when it was a loop of him pissed on air, you realized that maybe you liked angry, vocal Carlos a little more than you guessed. The memes about your boyfriend being written by Lana del Rey were sometimes true. He had a poised reputation to uphold. Even when it was just the two of you, he was either stoic or bubbly and funny. If he was sad, he'd be sulky or melancholic. Never angry or possessive. Never letting you see him lose his cool. It wasn't like he didn't trust you enough to let you in. It was more due to the fact that you were precious and fragile to him, breakable. But that was gonna change soon. With special courtesy of his radios during his battles with Oscar.

Carlos liked to have you in your "lovers nest" before Imola. Called you his lucky charm, his amuleto. Truth be told, it was a little early. Cohabitation was usually reserved for "seasoned couples". Carlos and you joked that you weren't living together, you were occasional roommates with benefits. The new arrangement meant that every couple of weeks, between triple headers, you would be in Spain. You knew a frequent flier discount hated to see you coming. Luckily, you had somewhat managed to make your job more remote, negotiating different hours and taking on a freelancing type of everyday tasks.

But like any person in love, you were most productive when alone. Thanks to the copious amounts of coffee you needed to watch the Miami GP, you had pulled 2 all nighters, basically flying through your professional to-do list. As soon as your weekly meeting was over, you started going through the most boring and easy parts of what you do. As soon as your lunch break rolled around, you were napping, hoping no one from the office decided to check up on you.

You're saving up the completed tasks as leverage, waiting for the right moment. And it arrives with the sound of a door unlocking and Carlos' familiar voice echoing through the apartment. You call him in the office space and let him know that you're almost finished. Sending out your tasks to your supervisor, you utilise their checking time and turn it into boyfriend time. Within a few minutes, you're in bed with Carlos, both in lounge wear that left little to the imagination. It was a little game you came up with in the honeymoon period of the relationship. Who could break easier after the long distance. You would think that no kissing would be easy, given that not much else was off limits. With his lips between your neck and your ear, he wasn't helping himself, so he asked.

"Did you manage to stay up for my race, gorgeous?"

"Yes, I watched it live, every second. I think I annoyed everyone on Twitter with my recap, even your fans." you reply.

"Yeah? Any standout thoughts I should know about?" He says, curious.

"Your radios, they sounded, good." You give him nothing, but he knows how to take from you. The gears in his brain turn, looking for a way to make you loose. At the end of the day, he was a simple man. All he had to do was ask.

"If you give me a kiss, I ......" He tries to finish his sentence but his mind blanks. He goes for the low hanging fruit, offering to buy you dream outfits and bags. Even when he puts real money where his mouth is, you refuse. Even though it's stupid, you don't want to give him the impression that you're dating him for the money. Carlos moves on to more individual things, promising to make you cum over and over again, to do the thing that makes your legs shake. You gently remind him they if he kisses you first, you make the rules. Therefore you could easily ask for all that and more. You can see it's driving Carlos mad to not be in control. He pulls out the "big guns".

"If you kiss me, I'll consider the threesome idea with Charles?" he tries.

"That was one dream and I regret telling you about it. No thanks, don't wanna be a homewrecker." you counter.

"I'll actually arrange a threesome with Fernando?" he comments.

"Stop slutting out people on the grid. Just because I fantasized about something a couple times doesn't mean I'm suddenly ready to be Eiffel towered or split roasted or whatever you two freaks could come up with." you hold your ground.

"You are the only guy for me. In F1, or outside of it, I only want to be with you. No sharing." You kiss him, aware that you'd loose. Whatever he had planned for you was gonna be good and you knew it.

"Good. I was gonna be worried if you'd said yes. Now, on the topic of saying things, you were awfully quiet earlier. So, we're gonna play another little game, called team radio." You quirk up an eyebrow and ask him to explain.

"It's easy. You tell me what to do and I'll do it. You don't say anything, I'll stop. I'm all about teamwork and following orders, baby." He boasts.

"Yeah, always, huh? Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night. You're a driver. You can't help it. It's in your blood. Being fast, being fucking selfish." You taunt him. Truth is what attracted you most to your boyfriend. His drive, no fucking pun intended.

Carlos pins you down onto the matres, his athlete's reflexes immediately evident. You're trapped beneath his body as he kisses and bites your neck.

"You're already failing at your game there, sweetheart. Thought you'd be the one obeying me. " you remind him. Asking your boyfriend to give up control was like asking a broken clock to display the right time. Yet, even those were right twice a day. Carlos pulled away, waiting for you to tell him what to do. Even though it was his idea, he was already turning against it. Though he had a trick up his sleeve.

You were trying out your new power. First, you asked him to switch to let you be on top. You kissed his neck and chest in a way to bid for time. Usually, by now, his hands would be on your waist, pulling down your underwear. Yet, he was still waiting for a que from you.

"Carlos, can you touch me, please? Just I don't know, rub my clit until I come or something." You ask.

Your boyfriend must be a member of r/maliciouscompliance, because that's what he does. He doesn't take your panties off, he just slides two fingers and presses them against where you need him and rubs. His pace is mundane, not too slow, and not too fast that it feels like he's trying to start a fire. It's just right, the perfect tease.

"You know, you're not very good at this. I know you're all about the flow of things and you shut off your brain when we fuck, sweetheart. But don't make me teach you a lesson here." He says.

You wonder what he means. You can feel his hardness under you, despite the layers of cotton there. You're not a tyrant, so you rub against his cock, needing more. Your futile moans of "Carlos please." don't earn you anything. You're wet, so close thanks to the new stimulation and his repetitive rhythm. You cum and as soon as your boyfriend senses it, he stops.

"Carlos, what the actual fuck?" you ask, your orgasm ruined. He'd never pulled that move before, always touching you more, so you could ride it out, going until your thighs clamp against him in a vice grip.

"You said to rub your clit until you came. You came. I did my job, no?" He replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Oh,so that's how he was gonna play it. Well two people could tease.

You tell him to take off your underwear and his too. Tossing your boyfriend a condom, you ask to see him put it on. He hisses as his fingers trail down his length. Truth it, he's just as needy as you. He was just better at hiding it.

"Do you have a favorite position, hmm Carlos? I wanna see it." You ask. He uses his strength to flip you, ass up in the air. Even in this, he's still careful. With your back arched and face half-burried in the pillow, you say.

"Show me your passion, I want you to go fucking feral, use me like there's no tomorrow."

And he obeys. He burries himself to the hilt inside you. He could be snarky and wait for you to ask him for every thrust. But he lacks the patience for that. He pulls out, almost all the way and thrust back in ferociously. Every "faster" and "harder" he follows. Carlos feels you clench around him, and says.

"If you wanna cum properly, you have to ask. Give team orders to your roque driver."

"Carlos Sainz, you better give me an orgasm and fuck me through it, unless you." You don't get to finish your thought, because your boyfriend's hand makes its way to your clit. This time he makes sure you feel everything to the fullest, giving you more and more. When you recover from your orgasm, you notice that he's still desperate to cum too. You know his tells. His hands gripping your waist a little stronger. The faint drops of sweat on his forehead. The way his thrusts are slower. You could show him that revenge is best served cold. But you can't resist him just after he blows his load, the moment where he's still fucking into you, as if intent on making it stick. On making your pussy memorize the shape of his cock.

"Carlos, fuck, go ahead and come. You deserve it, pretty boy." You say and watch him as he falls apart, bottom lip between his teeth.

You're both spent. After he cleans up and tosses the condom in the trash and you pee, you melt in his arms.

"I think this made me sweatier than Miami." He says. Aftercare sweet talk was obviously not his forte.

"I think that if we go for a second round, my work shift will end. Wanna make your girl steal some company time?" You reply.

#f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 x you #f1 imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz smut

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mirkhammett · 5 months ago

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die, die my darling (vampire!kirk)

summary; recently, you’ve realised that your roommate kirk has been acting different, inhumane. and you soon find out why.

warnings; blood drinking, light gore?, smut <3, a teeny bit of angst, fingering, non-protective sex (though baes a vamp so i believe it doesn’t matter :3)

w/c; 3.9k

the vamp kirk isn’t my idea, inspired by a great writer, @orions-choker!! pls go check their work out, it’s sooo addictive :p (not yet proofread so expect mistakes!!)

to say your roommate had been acting different would be an understatement.

his timid responses were the first signals that something was off- and then it was the lack of eye contact. the boy you knew to be once so smiley, couldn’t even luster up a few seconds of direct contact as you bid him off on many on his nights out, that had become much more common recently. he never said were he was going, and you never asked, but you had an inkling that every time was the same- he’d go out for a smoke, and a walk to clear his head (most likely). that would explain the faint stench of tobacco that always seemed to arise in the early mornings.

some nights you wouldn’t even wave him off- but something was the same, every single time. not once had you ever heard him come back, nor even the sound of the heavy wood door of your shared apartment clashing closed. nothing. and it wasn’t you were an early sleeper either, no. most nights you spent up into the early hours, an opened book resting on your duvet covered lap, your head only hitting the pillows when your neighbours would finally stop arguing and hit the hay. (which was never before midnight on a good day.)

but sometimes, only sometimes, you’d wake up after feeling a harsh whoosh of air through your room, rubbing your eyes in confusion and glancing to locked window. weird. you’d always blame it on your cheap, hardly working fan, and in a daze, go back to the land of dreams.

it wasn’t the first time he had acted like this, though. every couple of weeks he’d slip out into the night for these walks, and you’d take no mind of it, until now.

it was different this time. in the many months since kirk had moved in with you, you kept him close and considered him a friend. so why was it that he would avoid physical contact with you like the plague, hell, why was he so hesitant to even have a conversation? why was he always fully covered, wearing long trousers and thick sleeves in this scorching heat? and why were his eye bags so prominent, so much that his reddened veins were peeking through the thin layer of skin?

still, your feelings for him never once faltered, neither did the immense concern you felt for his wellbeing. maybe tonight was the night, do to something. to just say something, make sure he’s not struggling too much.

tonight you hadn’t heard him leave, and you hadn’t been in the living room, so he must’ve felt no need to announce his whereabouts. you couldn’t deny it, the division you felt between you and him hurt. -and tonight, tonight you were restless. kirk, he plagued all of the thoughts in your brain like a disease.

you yawned, setting your book down onto your duvet covered lap, just like every other night. the (un-happily) married couple next door had finally decided to give it a rest, but your whole body felt an immense itch, that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you scratched it.

you sighed as you slipped from under the covers, using one hand to rub your eyes and the other to mindlessly clutch your book. just as every night before, you checked the window was closed and locked, the moon shaped like a fingernail, the cheshire cat grinning down at you in irony. in irony of what, you didn’t know yet. you made your way down the hallway, passing kirk’s empty bedroom, not even bothering to check. you knew if he was home, there was no way his light would be off, and his door would be open, not even by an inch. he appreciated his privacy, and you couldn’t be mad about that.

the couch was where you decided to reside- and you didn’t care if it took even mere minutes or hours, you were going to get to the bottom of this. the thin blanket you draped over yourself didn’t provide much comfort or warmth, the coolness of the brown leather beneath you overpowering the heat, the shitty air conditioner on blast.

not even a full hour had gone by before you starting to hear it. the clatter of heavy combat boots walking down the hallway, the noise getting louder and louder as they reached your door. his combat boots. you immediately sat up on the couch, wiping your drooping eyes as you twisted around on the couch, so your body was resting against the backrest, your eyes studied tightly on the door.

he opened it with the firm gentleness that would radiate off of him, the gentleness that you knew so well. he fumbled to shove his keys back into his book, kneeling down to untie his shoes.

you leaned further over the couch, watching him with your mouth open. “kirk?”

he immediately stilled, raising from his bent position and turning to slowly, slowly face you. so much looked wrong with him, with so little explanation. you felt yourself straightening your back up. “i..” he whispered, like a deer caught in headlights.

his once muscular arms now looked much more frail, with such prominent veins, like a red rash covering his whole body as they pulsed wildly, thrashing with a hunger for blood. the rash continued up his bare arms, up to his pale neck, and through to his lifeless face. he looked tired. so, so, tired.

and without thinking you rose from the couch, stepping towards him with pure concern and worry in your features. your voice came out a soft, comforting whisper, as you reached your arm towards him. “what’s wrong with you, kirk?”

he winced as soon as your soft skin came in contact with his arm, his expression a grimace as he shut his eyes as hard as you could, almost as if he could escape this situation. you were hurt by his sudden moment, and you didn’t fail to show it, no matter how hard you tried to mask it. “you look so sick,” your eyes trailed down to his figure, “is there something i don’t know about?”

he shock your arm off of him, wrapping his arms around himself in a protective manner. a low grunt of pain escaping from his lips.

“i don’t want to hurt you, please..” it was the most you had heard him speak in days, and while you should’ve been happy, the tone of his voice was so heartbreaking, so shaky and frail.

you looked up at him, eyes full of concern, brows furrowed. he wouldn’t look at you, not fully. his eyes were either trained on the ground, or glued shut. he couldn’t bear to look at you, not at a time like this. he couldn’t bear to think of the consequences.

he had been putting of his weekly feed for a while now. infact, he hadn’t fed in weeks. whether it was the guilt or hurting another that consumed him, or self hatred, he didn’t know. all he knew was that he didn’t want to hurt you. the smell of tobacco was present on him, but you hadn’t even realised it. and if you had, you really couldn’t care less, not with the state of him.

his fingers were so pale, and the effect it took for him to press them against his own skin made you wince. even more so, did his response.

“why would you hurt me?” you slowly closed the gap between the both of you, bringing a gentle hand to burns against his cheek. “you could never hurt me.”

“but i could, y/n.” he spoke seriously. it took all of the strength in him to not just take everything he wanted from you, drain you dry. but with anyone else, he wouldn’t have even made it this far. your touch sent shivers through him, the strong scent of your sweet, warm blood rocking through him.

suddenly it all became too much, his chocolate brown orbs turning a dark, sinister shade of red, his mouth opening as he gasped out a grunt of pain, clutching his cheek.you flinched, pulling your hand away and stepping back away from him. if he was in a better state than he was know, he would’ve noticed your fear and reassured you. but he couldn’t, with the growing pains in his gums.

and once you recovered from the shock of his sudden harsh movement, you saw it. where two of his teeth once stood, were razor sharp canines, the gums around them enflamed and bloody- and that was when he finally looked up at you. with the look of horror in your eyes, he knew he couldn’t hide it anymore. “i…i’m not human, y/n.”

“you’re..a vampire?” you voiced wearily. he nodded, his exhausted eyes catching onto yours. “why do you look so…so ill?” you spoke with caution, fear in your voice, and kirk could tell, no matter how hard you tried to cover it. kirk felt his heart break at that.

“i haven’t fed..in a while,” his hand was still clutching his pale cheek, his voice filled with pain and despair. he coughed shakily, his legs buckling slightly. in a state of panic, you immediately held him up straight. he sucked in a harsh breath at your touch. “i can’t..i can’t risk hurting you.”

you shushed him, leading him to the couch, your book left discarded, the blanket now kicked to the floor. he sat slowly, still wincing his features at your gentle hands. your touch felt good, too good, and that was the problem. your touch had his undead body pulsing and throbbing, like his heart was really beating again, when he knew it.

that was how it always was with you, and he had no explanation for it, not until recently. why was it he felt so strongly for you, and no one else? it wasn’t just his heightened senses, no, no..that was for everyone else, too. it couldn’t have been his bloodlust, thought he found it so much harder to spend time around you when he was on a fast. it was more than that. there was no way for him to explain it, not truly, other than that when he was around you, he felt alive.

he didn’t even feel it when you sat down next to him, occupied by a whirlwind of thoughts circulating around his brain, going through to his empty lungs. all he breathed in was you.

“do you need blood?” how you still seemed to remain so concerned for him after what you had just found out, he couldn’t fathom. he continued to stare at the ground, and you know his answer. “okay,” you hummed, coming closer. “feed from me.”

his eyes widened, his hands coming to push you away, his voice a pained ramble, “no, no, please, i couldn’t..you’re the only person i don’t want to hurt.”

he looks like a kicked puppy, his eyes so wide you were afraid they could pop out of his head. he voiced pure denial, but you knew he couldn’t deny it for too much longer, the bloodlust taking over.

“it’s okay,” you bared your neck to him, your warm breathe sending shivers through you. “take what you need.”

he grimaced, though he leaned in, his guilt so clear on his face. you brought a hand up to his hair, ruffling it so gently he felt he could cry.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, resting his cracked lips against your smooth skin. he hesitated for a couple seconds, until you tightened your grip on his black coils, and he lost it.

his sharp fangs broke the barrier of your gentle skin, your warm blood intoxicating and filling up all of his senses. he growled into your neck, your whimpers going unheard by him in his blood lustful state. he sucked your neck with force, a bruise already forming around, what would soon be, a bite scar.

he didn’t take much, because it was you. and if it wasn’t you, he feared he would’ve drained them dry, sucked them of all their life and soul, body turning paler, and paler, until their skin was tinted grey and he had no choice but to pull away, as they held no use to him anymore.

but it was you. so he pulled away, his mouth gone just as quick as it arrived. you whimpered as his fangs retracted, his rambled words drowning out the pain. “thank you, i’m sorry, i love you,” these words flowed from his boyish voice like a river, talking before he could even think properly again.

he wiped the loose droplets of blood from your neck with his thumb, which suddenly didn’t look so lifeless anymore. his eyes had returned to their normal shade of brown, his veins no longer visible. your body relaxed against the couch as it was now his turn to dance his hand through your hair, kissing your forehead lightly, and then pulling back.

“you love me?” you grinned, your eyes half shut, but still gazing upon him.

he returned a soft grin, his black curls bouncing as he nodded down at you, regaining his strength back. “how could i not?” he mumbled.

your body felt like a million fireworks had just gone off in your stomach, butterflies zooming around at the impact- and no, your giddiness was not from the blood loss, but kirk’s admission of love. their had been an undeniable tension between you and kirk for the many months you had lived together, confessions of love always wanted to be released, but remaining to hang lowly in the back of your minds.

for when you would grocery shop for your shared apartment together, and he’d go off and gather all of the snacks he knew you loved, without you even asking. or when you’d have a movie night, and he’d pick whatever movie he knew you were dictated on at the time. but neither of you ever said anything.

and now with his vampirism so clear to see, you knew things should have changed. you knew your feelings towards him should’ve changed. but they didn’t. “i love you too,” you whispered sweetly. you rolled your body closer to him on the couch, sitting up and using your hands to steady yourself, bringing your face towards his. “kiss me?”

he complies quicker than the speed of light, his hands gripping on your waist, softly, but firmly, his touch electrifying. he shuffles his hips, urging you to straddle his lap as his lips take place on yours.

he’s soft with it at first, becoming increasingly sloppier with time. “fuck, you’re so pretty.” he breathes heavily into the crook of your neck, his lips back on yours.

and then it’s happening all too quick. your hands are dragging down his back, clawing even as he dominates the kiss, one of his hands now on the back of your head, keeping you steady and pulling you into him. he’s much more vocal than he was before, your blood giving him more energy than he’s ever felt before. you tasted different to everyone else. sweeter, he thought.

he’s quick to reach for the buttons of your sleep shirt, his nimble fingers slipping the bonds between the buttons and the holes of the striped material, the silk shirt hanging loosely off your shoulders. he takes in the sight of your bare chest with widened eyes, your perky nipples hardening under the shitty cool air radiating off the fan, and kirk thinks you look perfect. he leans in, leaving soft, wet pecks all over the bare skin, leaving imprints in their tracks.

you giggle, shimmying yourself out of your matching pair of shorts that complete the set, the silk material easy and complaint to slip from your body without much hassle. you mentally thank yourself for choosing this set for tonight. he quickly rids himself of his own shirt, leaving nothing to the eye.

his chest is like a sculpture from the gods, and you wonder if his figure has always been this good, or improved when he became undead.

his hand trails down your thigh to lightly graze your panties, then he stills. he looks up at you with a serious expression, his eyes soft and thoughtful. “is this okay?”

you nod with urgency, grabbing his hand firmly and pushing it into your crotch. “more than okay.” you mutter, catching your own breath.

“someone’s eager,” he mumbles under his breath, chuckling softly. he doesn’t mind though, as he’s already lacing a finger under the lacy material of your thong, hooking it and yanking it down your legs. it bundles up around your ankles, and you kick it off with ease. “there’s my girl, so pretty.”

you whimper as he trails a finger over your bare pussy and he experiments, rubbing it lazily over your clit. he whispers praises that you can barely hear, adding another finger to the mix. he uses this one to rub up and down your slit skillfully, all your arousal accumulating up just from the touch of his gentle hand. he speaks again, this time loud enough so you can just about hear him. “tell me if it hurts, m’kay?” you hum and nod, squirming on his lap.

he pushes a finger into you at the arrival your consent, slowly and gently, as to not hurt you- once he’s fully sure that you’re okay, he slides another in, this time firmer with his movements. he doesn’t move them yet as he lets you adjust to the new intrusion, just curling them inside of you.

“more, more,” you whine breathlessly, and he complies wordlessly. without warning he starts to thrust them, not quite reaching a fast pace yet, but not slow either. he uses your whines and whimpers to his advantage, finding the pace that he’s figured you enjoy most, deep thrusts of in and out, in and out, the sounds of your wetness and his palm slapping against your pussy with each thrust creating a cacophony of passion.

and it’s not long before your muscles start to contract more often, your gushy walls tightening around his calloused fingers like a vice, when he knows your getting close, and without a second thought, slips his fingers out- with absolutely no struggle, even with your tightened walls, your arousal a perfect homemade lube.

he silences your whines before they even start with a messy kiss, and it’s right then when you realise- when did he take his pants off? you don’t spend much time pondering over it, instead over his muscled legs, and his, oh my god, perfect dick.

it’s not the longest, but it’s girth makes up for it, and you can hardly even think about it before his whispering into your ear, bouncing you on his lap. “can you lay down f’me, baby?”

“y-yes.” you manage to pull squeak out, trembling of off his lap as he arises to stand, getting comfortable with your head resting on the armrest of the worn out couch, you bought way before he even moved in. you never imagined in a thousand years it would be used in this way.

it’s not long before he’s back above you again, his face just above yours as his curls coil down to brush your skin, his front strands tickling your face, causing you to giggle. you smiles at your response, opening your legs apart with a single hand. he rubs your clit, holding his dick in the other, like he hasn’t prepared you enough already. and then he’s pushing in, and it’s oh so good, and it’s nothing like you’ve ever felt before, still feeling slightly dazed from the blood loss, the tingles from your wound sending signals all the way down through your stomach and electrifying the butterflies, down to your pussy.

it takes him a good minute to fully emerge himself, taking his time by looking at your facial expressions, waiting until the pain of the initial stretch has fully dismissed before continuing to push further in. he’s situated inside you comfortably, like the missing puzzle piece, and it’s so disgustingly loveable, the air thick with the stench of sex and cigarettes lingering from his discarded jacket laying on the side.

slowly he begins to thrust experimentally, whacking your face immensely for any signs of discomfort, to be greeted with none- so he continues, his thrusts gradually growing in speed and deepness. he uses one hand to hold himself up, propping it up beside your waist, shadowing over your figure. he uses the other hand to rub your overstimulated clit with agility, knowing all the ways to make you tingle in just mere minutes.

the way his balls slap against your smooth skin with every thrust is addictive, the way your hands grip loosely onto his forearms powering him on- just knowing how good he’s making you feel all the motivation he needs. “you’re so fucking perfect.”

“thank you.” you respond airily, your whole body bouncing with each thrust, your words changing in pitch, becoming higher as you move up and down. he lets out a small chuckle, his thrusts slowing just slightly, before returning to their normal pace.

he’s breathless himself, sweat beading up along his hairline, his chest covered in a thin pearly layer of sweat. not enough to drip onto you, but enough to show the effects you have on him. he’s grunting himself now, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic. that’s when he feels that familiar tighten of your wall as again- thought it feels so much better this time, so much warmer, so much tighter. he’s grunting softly, more and more with each and every thrust, becoming more wild by the second, your bodies moving up and down in unison.

“i’m, im close..” you manage to mutter out, thought there was no need, as he could already tell himself, your not so subtle tighten around his length giving you away. he nods repeatedly, his breathing heavy and heightened.

“i know, i know baby,” his thrusts are so sloppy, and it’s so addictive to both parties. you’re not sure if you could ever live without him. fuck, how did you go so long without him before? “are you gonna cum f’me?”

and all you can do is whine in response, a whiney and whimpering mess for him, all sprawled out on the couch, your hands no longer on his arms, but laying uselessly beside your body, to weak to grip onto anything. your walls contract even tighter now, and kirk knows it’s any minute now. your soft moans don’t stop though, no. infact, he’s almost sure they’ve gotten louder as you encounter release. “come for me, okay?”

it’s almost as if he’s controlling you like a puppet, for the way you release immediately after he’s told you too. he doesn’t stop yet, not until he’s reached his own peak- and when he does, he still doesn’t slow, riding his, and your orgasm out to its full extent. and then when you’re fully spent, that’s when he finally pulls out, his body relaxing on top of yours. he doesn’t still for long though, and after a minute he’s up again, rising from the couch to kneel beside your body.

“you tired, baby?” he peers out the window, seeing how the suns just barely, but still beggining to set, and he feels guilty for the long hours he made you wait for him earlier. you hum in response, causing him to smile softly. “okay, lemme carry you to bed.”

maybe feeding isn’t so bad after all.

#stars writing!!#kirky cutie #kirk hammett #kirk hammett x reader #vampire x reader #vamp kirk apologist #metallica #james hetfield #vampire #dave mustaine #lars ulrich #jason newsted #rob trujillo #cliff burton

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drchucktingle · 2 years ago

Note

Being trying to describe your works to other people, and I think I finally found a good one, want to know what you think of it: The Monty Python of short-form erotica.

first of all this is very kind of you and i appreciate the love and thought you have put into this. it is good question and i am glad you see my trot this way so right off that bat just want to say thank you for proving love to me.

that being said i very much disagree buckaroo BUT THAT IS OKAY

please take this as KIND DISCUSSION that it is intended, because i think this is great opportunity to chat. after all you directly asked what i think of your analysis so i will say this:

what i write is joyful and wild but it is not a joke. YES i know how to be funny sometimes and i can lean into this trot, but my belief in my art is genuine and sincere. i understand way of irony has soaked through the layers of the internet into the absolute depths, but i am telling you the truth.

there are a lot of 'knock off chuck tingles' out there who see that i am very popular for writing the erotica that i write, and they try to get in on the action. they think my formula is just 'make some kind of silly combination of mad libs erotica that is ridiculous so people will laugh at it.' but those who try this never ever succeed because that is actually NOT MY FORMULA. if you take a moment to go below the surface you will see that the tingleverse is nothing without a genuine belief in love and the celebration of diverse sexualities from across all kinds of timelines.

all that being said, it is OKAY if you laugh. i KNOW buckaroos laugh both at and with my way, and sometimes i even try to be a funny jokerman, but that is not my central intent. comedy is not the drive behind any of this, therefore i do not think i am much like monty python.

i think my work is about bold SINCERITY in face of those who will see you as strange, and about how maybe strange is a good thing and not really that strange at all. it is about queer joy and neurodivergent joy and just plain old JOY joy. and even if others think this is some kind of long form satire, that is okay. but that is not the truth.

thank you for writing LOVE IS REAL buckaroo this was good question

#love is real

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luveline · 1 year ago

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Hi Jade! Had an idea for a Sirius fic (or poly if that’s something you feel like writing for!) where r loves dogs and animals but gets kinda scared when meeting them (especially large ones) in real life. So Sirius is all sweet with her as padfoot as a way to help her get over her fear. Love you!!! You’re truly such an amazing writer ❤️❤️

thank you, I love you ♡ and thank u for ur request!! —a stray dog befriends you on the way to sirius' flat. fem!reader, 1.3k

You're walking from the costcutters to Sirius' block of flats when you feel as though you're being followed. You look around in a sweep, but can't spot anybody besides a handful of children in the park across the street.

Feeling weary, you pick up your pace and slide your phone from your pocket. I'm five mins from ur flat, you text. If anything happens, he'll know you were here.

Childish giggles ride the breeze. You look back over your shoulders to see why, not for any particular reason beyond curiosity, only to see their short fingers pointing and waving at a scruffy black dog trotting behind you.

You flinch on impulse. He's not an especially scary dog, but his appearance is a surprise. He has no collar, no leash.

You stop walking, worried he might come closer. You love animals in theory, but you're anxiously disposed. Things that move quickly make you flighty.

The dog stops a couple of feet from you. His head tilts left, tongue darting out of his mouth.

"Hi, puppy," you say nervously.

Like he can understand the irony, he sits down on his back legs and shakes his head, ears flopping from one side to the other. He's a very big dog.

You frown. He's not cute enough to make you feel confident in approaching him —you've seen how bad some injuries can be from animal attacks. Sirius always tells you to chill out, The chances of that happening to you are so low, doll. You don't have to worry about it every time you see a dog. I'll get you a taser.

I don't wanna tase a dog, even if it is trying to eat me, you'd said, flabbergasted.

Sirius laughed at you. I don't know what to tell you, then. I'll just have to go with you everywhere.

"Bye, puppy," you say, spinning on your heel.

You walk briskly. The dog follows. You're afraid to turn to check on him, listening to his footsteps on the pavement, the scratch of his nails. He'd chase you if he were going to hurt you, right?

You turn back around slowly, wondering if he can smell the packet of bacon you'd bought for Sirius' roommate and best friend, James. If you feed it to the dog, James won't want to forgive you (he needs mucho protein, apparently), but he probably will if it's to save yourself from harm.

You look up from the corner store bag. The dog has laid down and bared his stomach to you, tongue lolled out the side of his mouth and panting. You swear he wiggles his legs to entice you in.

"Oh, um." You put the bacon back in the bag. "You want a stroke?" you ask gently.

His tail wags across the pavement.

The walk to meet him is nerve-wracking. You extend your hand first to let him sniff you, flinching as his head comes up and he investigates your scent. He gives your index finger a quick lick.

"Are you friendly?" you ask in the same gentle tone as before. "Please don't bite me, okay? My boyfriend, he acts like he's tough," —you extend your hand to the dogs face and stroke his jaw— "and he kind of is, but when I get hurt he goes crazy." You pop your bag down and use your newly freed hand to scratch his tummy tentatively. When he doesn't growl, you give it a good go. "Aw, you're gorgeous. You're not gonna bite, I can see that. Siri was right. He's right about nearly everything."

The dog curls in toward your hand and starts licking you appreciatively.

"You're lovely," you praise. "Where's your home? Do you have someone to look after you?"

He licks you again. It's kind of gross in a cute way, or cute in a gross way. Sometimes when Sirius is feeling disgusting he'll lick a big playful stripe up your neck between kisses, though you have less fear of rabies when that happens.

"I don't want to make any promises, but I can make you some dinner. Siri's a devoted vegetarian, but his friend treats me like his little meat delivery girl, so he owes me a couple of rashers if you want them." The dog snorts. You giggle happily. "Ew! Don't sneeze on me, handsome, I need to look presentable!"

The dog tilts his head. You pretend it's quizzical, rubbing his belly enthusiastically. "I want to look pretty for my boy. Might be difficult if I'm covered in mucus, and I need all the help I can get– woah! Holy fu–"

You fall back on the heels of your hands as the dog jumps into your lap. You push your face into your shoulder in fear, but the dog doesn't hurt you. He snuggles up to your chest and licks at your chin.

"You're a good boy. Maybe I shouldn't be so scared of doggies after all," you say, sighing with relief. "Good boy. If you come home with me I'll make you some dinner, okay?"

The dog is remarkably smart. He follows you home and waits at the door, sitting smartly by a potted plant. You race up stairs to Sirius and James' flat and knock on the door.

"Hi," James says, giving you a genial smile as he lets you in. "Sirius isn't home from work yet."

"Sorry for bursting in on you," you say sheepishly. "I brought your bacon! And I was wondering if I could ask you for a favour."

James is happy enough to give you some diced chicken he'd been keeping for his meal prep. Which is to say, he'll have to cook more, but he's a nice guy, and thankful that you always ask him if he needs anything before you come over. You rush downstairs again, breathless as you push open the door of the building.

"Puppy?" you ask.

"Not my favourite pet name, but I'll take it."

Sirius stands where you'd left the dog, tucking hair behind his ears. It's standing up every which way.

"Did you see the dog?" you ask urgently.

"Nope, just me out here."

You tip your head back in defeat. "I promised a stray I'd give him something to eat."

"A stray?" he asks, pulling a bobble from his wrist. He begins scraping bedraggled curls from his face, disarming you with the sight of his tense biceps and his hiked shirt.

"I'm not sure what kind of dog it was, but it was– it was big."

"Yeah? Didn't scare you, did it?" he asks in concern.

You hug James' tupperware to your chest, trying to seem less proud of yourself than you are. Sirius has this way of making you feel like you're a wonder with his eyes alone, dark gaze roaming your face like he knows something you don't.

He drops his arms to his sides. "I knew you'd be okay. They're not so different from puppies, big dogs. Was he excited?"

"He let me scratch his tummy."

"That means he really likes you," Sirius says, holding his hand out for you. You place your hand in his. "We'll keep an eye out for him, alright? You know, I heard dogs like fruit, like, apples and bananas. Maybe you can feed him fruit salad?"

You preen as he rubs your upper arms together, leading you back to the door, though his comment is puzzling. "You don't think he'd like the chicken?"

"Nah."

"How do you know?" you ask, bemused.

Sirius looks very sure, bringing your joined hands up to his lips to kiss your ring finger. "Funny feeling."

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius x reader fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #marauders era #marauders #sirius black drabble #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #the marauders #sirius orion black

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on-leatheredwings · 10 months ago

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(Yandere?) Batboys discovering your alternative music taste (metal/goth/emo/etc)

Bruce is utterly alienated and out of his depth. Frankly, he doesn't know much about the scene. It also doesn't appeal to him much, besides the slower, moodier songs. But when it's obvious this is your taste, and it's important to you, he's fully supportive and interested. He'll purchase limited edition vinyl of your favorite albums, and have custom record stands made for you by artisans. If you happen to make music, he'll have a soundproof studio built in the manor. Sometimes, you catch familiar songs playing quietly in the Batcave, without provocation.

Dick wants you to teach him how to scream. Now. After you tell him about your music taste, he listens to your playlists and is quickly converted into a fan. Your favorite songs turn into his gym/training playlist, and he finds his leaps through the Blud are higher during a good breakdown. You two start sharing band tees. Dick would get you matching guitars, so you can practice together. Wearing a guitar pick that fits with another yin-yang style is his favorite accessory, to which you have the other half.

Jason wishes he had known earlier. Do you know how many concerts he's gone to alone, vibing out in the back of the crowd? He knows as many bands and as much alternative music history as you do. He also appreciates the more eccentric aesthetics of the scene with you. He'll put on a face of corspe paint with you any day of the week (the irony of the look isn't lost on him). Your favorite songs are fast and gritty, probably groove or thrash metal. Jason will get you both concert tickets, always front-row or in the pit. If it's the latter, he won't hesitate to knock heads together if they get a little too rowdy with you. Your best kisses also tend to happen while your favorite album is in the background, you will testify.

Tim decides to study it. Gamify it. To some extent, it's like he's studying you, which is his favorite subject, of course. Be prepared to know more than you ever imagined about your favorite artists, their writing processes, etc. Tim would be the one you have the most in depth conversations with sonically, his interpretations completely titillating and elevating the lyrics. But even if you aren't as intellectual as him, sometimes, you manage to surprise him back. He especially loves when you show him songs that strike him so poignantly, that he doesn't know how to quantify them. It encourages him to get out his head a bit more. Later on, he may get a matching tattoo of your favorite lyric, though with a symbolic image rather than explicit writing. For now, he makes playlists for you to listen to new bands he thinks you'd like.

Damian... isn't against it -- first, how could he be against anything you love? Second, he's already made his own foray into darker music... yours is just maybe more hardcore than he's ever cared to go. It just takes more exposure for him to Get It. Soon enough, he's intrigued by the artistic expression of it all. Raised with rigid rules and expectations, he certainly finds the liberation and appeal of music so rebellious and visceral. He enjoys more poetic language juxtaposed by gritty rhythms and mournful tempos. He tells you goth love songs remind him of you. Damian prefers to match silver jewelry or piercings with you, the former tend to have both of your initials engraved in spindly, thin fonts.

#yandere batfam #damian wayne #bruce wayne #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #is this anything #this is entirely for me <3 #HA wrote and posted this within 30 min i totally can produce efficiently.#mine

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browniefox · 4 months ago

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I asked for fic recs so it only makes sense that I provide some.

The Invisible Stan by The Last Speecher (HeidiMelone)

Simple, short, but elegant. You know how hanahaki disease is a trope? I feel like this should be a trope, but idk what you'd call it - Ninny disease sounds bad, but like it's clearly based off of Ninny from the Moomins. Anyway, great fic <3

An Outreached Hand by WDW

Ghost trick au! Love a good ghost trick au! I reread this recently and it still holds up so well, still so good even if unfinished. Haven't played ghost trick since, some of the twists make a hair more sense - especially the twist in the last chapter posted and being like 'OH IT'S *THE* GHOST TRICK'. Shoutout to undead creepiness and cute kitties :3

Retrograde by scrawling_stardumb

Kissing this one on the mouth. Only one chapter and unfinished, but it's a long chapter and really makes you go 'whoa'. It's interesting because the summary *technically* gives you more info than the chapter itself, but it's that kind of dramatic irony that fits the writing so well. A good solid McGucket POV too, which there really isn't enough of. Tbh, it stands okay almost as a one shot? I wish this became a whole popular au like all the others, bc it kicks ass as a concept.

Finding the Right Frequency by impish_nature

A pretty cute one! Ford trying to figure out how to deal with Bill, and Stan having found a stable job, and someow their two worlds intersect. Cute moments between the two, and some good Stans getting to reconnect.

Things You Can't Take Back by thesnadger

Classic by the Snadger! I always appreciate people who take Stan's memory less and make it more complicated, or at least have there be aftershocks to have your whole life erased :D So well written.

like they were a perfect fit by hapful

Stanford Pines and the photo he never looses. A beautiful story about Ford throughout the ages and his opnions on family, specifically Stan.

putting the dog to sleep by parsnipit

Old Yeller is such a sad story, and also some of this made me think of Mice and Men, and ugh just Stan and Ford and beign willing to kill something you love - sometimes because you love it - and it's such a perfect analogy to them I could die.

none of those phds is an md, you dumb idiot by untrustworthyglitch

I always love a fic that acknowledges language barriers. It reminds me of a really old fic where I did something similar, but like, being away from Earth would lead to you forgetting a lot of things, including language.

Too Late, Too Soon, Not Enough by IncomingAlbatross

Ah, gotta love a good fic that shows the missing scene of Ford and Stan switching places. Who came up with the idea? Who needed to be convinced? What swears do they get to use while off camera? Stan I love you so much, and Ford I lov eyou for beig nso complicated.

Raising Stakes by MaryPSue

Mwah! A Classic if I've ever seen one! While I'm partial to werewolf!Stan, Vampire!Stan does have so much potential and MaryPSue puts it to use so well! A great look into what Gravity Falls was like back in taht time period, and I love when people utilize Susan in fics that take place pre-portal <3 Also, Carla! I miss you so much Carla <3 It's drama, it's action, it's everything!

Lost and Found by PengyChan

Tate & Fiddleford have a lot of untapped potential, and while I think going the angst route makes a lot of sense, this one is almost more fluff and catharsis, I guess? I love it, near and dear to me.

Off-Season by anistarrose

Time Travel fic, but not a timestuck au? More likely than you think! A cute oneshot with particular focus on Stan, Mabel, and Dipper. Just a fluffy little thing with a couple strangers helping Stan out through a difficult winter.

Persist and Dwell by fencesit

A bit of Soos's trust in Grunkle Stan, and a mystery that isn't so much mystery as it is simply just not explicitly said. One of the final scenes has still stuck with me, and this is defo a concept I'd love to see explored more.

flee from your ghosts (burn your house down) by thepolysyndetonaddictsupportgroup

While typically OTGW x Gravity Falls crossovers are, like, Pinescone, I'm partial to this version where Wirt is their dad. There'a few details that didn' sit well with me, but over all so incredible and well written. Some of the metaphors are just so evocative I could eat them. The descriptions are to die for. And I love the depiction of a dad struggling to get his kids to open up to him that feels like it's part dads struggle with teens and part those pines twins just won't tell the truth.

If you have any Gravity Falls fic recs, feel free to comment them!

#browniefox speaks #gravity falls #fic recs #fic rec #normally i would shamelessly add my own fics #but most of them are too old to show around too much lol #and my timestuck au is still pretty short

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kenandeliza · 1 year ago

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A Marvel Family Fantasy AU

A few days ago, I randomly dreamt of Drawing Billy and Tawny in a fantasy setting.

Billy was this kid wizard and Tawny was his companion (or an animal to ride on like a horse)

Then it got me thinking, maybe in this setting, Mary could be someone of high status in this fantasy setting (since she's in a rich family in the golden age comics)

I'm inclined to think Freddy would be a captain of a ship for irony-sake but I have a feeling pirates and fantasy settings don't match well?

It's just funny for me to think of him with a peg leg xD

After further discussion with @the-brash-spud :

Warning: Too many text :>

These are the ideas we have so far (if there are quotation marks, those ideas belonged to @the-brash-spud ):

—

Maybe Billy and Mary were prince and princess separated by birth, (i'm not sure if its a kidnapping or the baby got lost on his own) but the wizard founded billy and trained him.

At the ripe age of (insert young age below a teenager's), The wizard decided to grant him the power of shazam to turn him into the world's mightiest Wizard!

Captain Marvel!

Wizard dies and then Billy and Tawny have adventures together, maybe helping people along the way (maybe somehow found out that Mary is his sister :p idk)

“ I think you could go angst if you made the wizard get brutally hurt in a battle to protect Billy and the rock of eternity so in a last ditch effort he transports the rock to its own pocket of existence and then giving Billy powers of shazam because its as ready as he'll be able to make the kid :) and it's his last effort for Billy to be protected even if he has to do so himself because he has failed :)) made Billy cry as Wizard turns into dust in Billy’s hands :)))”

—

Uncle marvel can be a con-man/thief who took pity on Billy or realiz, teaching Billy that the world isn't always honest and he's like, "Billy, don't always give money to the poor on the streets, sometimes they faked their illness to be lazy”

" Billy: "The man in the shadowy corner needs my help."

Uncle: "No, the hell he doesn't!”"

—-

How Billy Met Freddy

Billy probably met Freddy in a bar fight. How did the kid get into a bar?

Billy looked at the man exiting the pub with a bottle.

Billy: Ohh! So this is where you get refreshments here! I wonder If they have enough Milk for Tawny..

Pub sign written NO KIDS ALLOWED!"

*Billy can only read magic scrolls and not regular alphabet*

Cue him meeting Freddy (who's armwrestling with one of the people there)

(Insert Bar fight for some reason because The child decided to drink a white cocktail thinking it was milk and the fact that Billy is a Kid)

“Freddie is definitely that kid having his ass thrown out of the bar/pub/inn”

I'd like to think he and his brother are a team, prolly sailed a ship together.

“Yes, they target slave ships. Unless you wanna go different routes. Then, he is focused on certain nations' flags that have a whole lot of red in them

Also, he goes to the bars just to start bar fights over drunks being mean/nasty to the landlady. The landlady doesn't appreciate it bc now she has a broken table and four broken chairs”

Freddy faces the Captain Nazi equivalent of a pirate [Captain Arian? Like Aryan?] XD, Freddy lost his leg the same way, from his encounter with Captain Arian.

Kit (probably a necromancer or a ghost who's cursed to be bound in the ship Freddy's in, making Freddy more attached to the ship) can still summon crewmembers.

Maybe they both meet mary during the birthday ceremony parade

Maybe Mary snuck off from her family (disguise herself as a regular girl, i know, generic plot) and then meet Billy accidentally

Billy: It's my birthday today!

Mary: What a coincidence! It's mine too!

The-brash-spud: “Billy, in his innocence, thinks ,"There must be something to us sharing birthdays!" While Freddy calls him stupid, Billy tries to get a look at the princes and then cue the lung-fu panda rocket incident, but maybe something else more fitting with Freddy being pulled along”

On an unrelated note, i think Billy knew about Freddy's peg legafter either a pirate slashed it clean and Freddy just used it to bonk his head.

Billy is still screaming from the shock and immediately casted healing spells (i'd like to think everything about billy is lightning based- so yes getting struck by lightning is a healing spell for him :D) Freddy got shocked lmao

And what about boarding Tawny on the ship?

Billy:"Please???"

Freddy: "I'm not letting a tiger into my ship."

Kit who absolutely adores animals: "YES"

Freddy:"NO!”

Kit:" Does he love belly rubs??"

Billy:" yes but you have to ask him politely for his permission-”

Freddy rolled his eyes, realizing he has to clean cat fur everyday off from the furnitures.

___

How did Mary, a royalty tag along with a kid wizard and a pirate?

“Yeah, I guess forced separation would work better. Hell, go with a scenario that will allow them to have Mary with the parents' blessings as long as she's kept safe (she isn't, but that's because she is the danger herself)”

Mary and Billy: "Yay adventure"

Freddy: "Oh great, now I have to take care of two kids and a tiger in my ship!?"

*Freddy looking at Kit and the kids + a tiger playing together, kit seems happy*

Freddy: "...i guess it's alright..”

___

How Freddy and Mary found out about the wizard?

“Hmmmm, maybe Billy takes them to the rock because they were in a pickle, and unforeseen effects happen?

They got surrounded maybe?

Also I can see the aftermath

"You were raised by THE Wizard!? THE Wizard?! A Wizard of legends so often told he is recognisable even if his name was lost?!"

"Oh, his name is Shazam-" *BANG*”

____

Hopefully i could draw these AU ideas, I don't plan on making this into a story, i just like the concept that my dream gave my a few days ago and I’m just expanding it. Sorry for too many text xD

I don't mind if you want to add something to this silly lil AU, It's just a fun thing for me to do :p

#dc comics #captain marvel #scenario #scenarios #billy batson #freddy freeman #mary batson #shazam #fantasy au #fantasy #pirate au #kd rambles #kenandeliza's art #shazam au #shazam fantasy au #captain marvel fantasy au

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