#thanks to my partner for giving me this idea over a year ago lol

[alittlepudge-neverhurtnobody]

kinktober #13

GoTHICC 🥀 / Stitched Together 🪡

“I’m sorry,” says Vanessa, crossing her arms over her chest, “the vampires have concentrated their forces where?”

Ethan leans forward in his seat, and from her vantage point she has a perfect view of how his stomach is just beginning to push against the buttons of his waistcoat. She digs her fingernails into the flesh of her palm. She’s worked diligently to keep her feelings for Ethan — or her stirrings of peculiar interest in his direction, whatever they may be — deeply under wraps, but the longer he stays at Grandage Place and enjoys three or four good meals a day, the harder it becomes.

“Here,” he says, pointing to a city block bordering Chelsea on the map of London that’s spread across the table. “The building itself looks pretty plain, but it’s, uh, well-attended.”

The air goes out of Vanessa’s lungs. “Which building?”

“Brick, kind of … stout? Gold sign outside that says ‘Alderman’s’. It’s a few doors down from a pub and a gallery.”

Sir Malcolm turns his grey gaze on Vanessa. “Do you know it?”

“In a manner,” says Vanessa, avoiding his eyes. “I’ve passed it before. I quite enjoy taking walks in that neighborhood.”

Ethan sits back in his chair, lacing his hands over his stomach. “Any idea what kind of place it is?”

Mr. Lyle has been standing by uncharacteristically quietly, but now he meets Vanessa’s eyes over the table. He raises his eyebrows. Vanessa widens her eyes in consternation, and he dips his head in understanding.

“I’m familiar with it,” says Mr. Lyle, stooping in to glance at the map. “Close to Mr. Wilde’s residence, if I’m not mistaken.”

It’s a risky maneuver, and Vanessa deeply appreciates that he’s deploying it on her behalf. Malcolm’s gaze abruptly jumps to Mr. Lyle. “I wouldn’t know,” he says, perfectly neutrally. “What kind of establishment is it?”

Vanessa takes a breath. Mr. Lyle simpers. “A gentleman’s club,” he says. “For those of us of … size.”

This is obviously not the admission Malcolm is expecting, and he stares back at him blankly.

“Oh,” says Ethan, and Vanessa busies herself with the teapot, unable to look at him for fear that she’ll give herself away. “A fat men’s club. There’s a few in the States that I’ve heard of.”

“Exactly,” purrs Mr. Lyle. “Aren’t you worldly, Mr. Chandler! Have you any personal experience with them?”

Ethan laughs. “I can’t say I have. In the states there’s a minimum you have to meet, but at the rate I’m going, it won’t be long before I qualify.” He pats his belly, and Vanessa sets her teacup on its saucer with a conspicuous clink. She does, for entirely unrelated, normal reasons, enjoy walking the Chelsea neighborhood for its rich bohemian culture and unusual sights. But she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t also specifically made note of a route that passed by the club in question. Ethan will need quite a few meals to bring him up to a fighting weight, as it were.

“But why here?” Malcolm asks, unamused. “What does a venue such as this offer to the creatures we seek?”

To Vanessa’s surprise, and clearly also to Malcolm’s, Mr. Lyle laughs. “Is it not obvious, Sir Malcolm? What is the vampire’s prerogative?”

“To feed,” says Malcolm, brows furrowing in the stubborn dismay of someone outside of the joke. 

Mr. Lyle palms his own considerable middle. “Exactly. To feed. And where better to do it than a group formed for that same purpose?”

At which point Vanessa has to take a walk to the kitchen and back, frankly unsure how much longer she can hold it together. She stands over the icebox and lets the cold seep into her hands, and when she feels a bit less at sixes and sevens, she makes her return. Of course, she brings a platter of biscuits.

— 

The company decides that Ethan is their best chance at infiltration. He’s charming enough to talk his way into some details, and unlike Mr. Lyle, he has the skill to defend himself if things turn bad. There’s just the problem of his figure.

“I believe fifteen stone is traditional,” Mr. Lyle offers, pushing the plate of biscuits across the table to Ethan, who takes one good-naturedly.

“I’ll start now, then,” he jokes, and Vanessa bites her tongue. But later, after they’ve bid Mr. Lyle goodnight and Malcolm has retired for the evening, he joins her where he’s sitting by the fire with a glass of brandy, his hips filling the armchair opposite the divan where she’s wrapped in a blanket.

“You knew what it was, too,” he says by way of greeting, and she looks at him sharply. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“The club. You knew, didn’t you?” His tone isn’t accusing, merely curious, but she can’t make her spine unstiffen. “You got quiet. You barely offered an opinion after that. It’s not like you, and you know we all trust your instincts with things like this. And I know you’re not put off by a few vampires, so …?”

“I’ve seen it in passing,” she says curtly. “I walk that area often.”

“Hey,” he tries again when she doesn’t elaborate. “You can tell me anything, Miss Ives. I’m not in the business of divulging other people’s secrets. I’ll even give you one in return if you like. Of equal value.”

“You first,” she says without moving her gaze from the flames.

“All right,” says Ethan gamely. She hears him sip from his whiskey and set it down on the table beside him. “Well, I trust you know about Mr. Lyle’s — preferences.”

Vanessa’s stomach drops. “I do,” she says carefully. She bears no ill will toward Mr. Lyle for his interests, and she wouldn’t toward Ethan either — it would be rather hypocritical, considering the depth of her feelings for Mina — but it’s so separate from what she knows of his romantic history and so separate from what she feels for him that she can’t quite make it square in her head. “I respect them immensely. Admire, even. It takes a lot of bravery in this day and age.”

“As do I,” says Ethan pleasantly. “Now, we’re not quite the same, but we overlap, if you understand me. I don’t — I don’t have much preference when it comes to the sexes. Anything goes. Hell, I courted a gal for a while back in America who’d been born an Edward but grew up to be an Edith.”

He says it so plainly that she can’t help but turn to glance kindly at him. “I’m glad for you,” she says. “Thank you for trusting me. I understand that attitude quite intimately, myself.”

Ethan’s face warms with a smile. “Seems like we always find each other somehow,” he says. “Now, if you had another proclivity — say, for larger people — then I’d say that I wouldn’t find it strange in the slightest, and what’s more, I wouldn’t hold any judgment against you for it.”

She cuts her eyes at him over her shoulder, but he’s no longer looking at her. He drains his whiskey, catches a soft belch in his fist, and lays his hands over his stomach. 

“That’s good to hear, Mr. Chandler,” she says, turning her glass in her hands. “I daresay any proclivity of mine might prove itself quite useful in this endeavor, if it were to exist.”

“So it would seem,” he agrees, and she starts a bit when she hears him crunch into something — the plate of biscuits, she realizes. Damn her inability to leave well enough alone.

“I’m sure there’s some sort of spell or illusion I could manage,” she says, turning back to the fire and drawing the blanket around herself more snugly. “To put you on equal footing with the rest of the club.”

Ethan scoffs. “Illusion? Nah, I’ve got a plan to do this organically.”

He waits until her curiosity is piqued enough to turn and look at him, and then he grins. “And I wouldn’t say no if you decided to offer some of your expertise in the matter.” 

At this Vanessa tosses back the rest of her brandy in one swallow, desperate for a bit more courage than she actually possesses. “I suppose it’s only prudent,” she says. “What with everything on the line.”

— 

Fortunately, and perhaps unfortunately for Vanessa, Ethan proves to be a consummate eater. He graduates easily from first and second helpings to steady thirds and occasional fourths, and no matter how much he eats, he always goes back for a second dessert. Vanessa, to her exquisite horror and awful delight, begins to be regularly confronted with the aftermath of his voracity. When they take their coffee by the fire in the evenings, she can barely concentrate on her novel but for Ethan’s stifled belches and hiccups, the sounds of his overtaxed stomach digesting his glut ever niggling at the edges of her consciousness. 

At their rendezvouses around the map of London and various relics, Ethan often rests a hand on his belly or supports it with his laced fingers; sometimes he drags over a chair if he’s pushed his limits too far. Worse, he comes home the following week with a large spring scale almost certainly intended to weigh factory parts or the like, but stations it in his room so he can track his progress. The first time he stands on it — Vanessa lurking in the doorway feeling deviant, even though he specifically included her — he tops out at 81 kilograms, or almost 13 stone. He’s so tall that even though he’s not that far off from the 15-stone minimum, the weight doesn’t look like much on his frame. 

“What would you do?” he asks after stepping off, and Vanessa can see in the mirror behind him that her eyes are comically wide. “How would you have me do this?”

She flounders for a moment, the possibilities too titillating to fully consider. “Well, you’re eating quite well,” she says at last. “I fear if you tried to stuff down any more at meals, you’d burst. But perhaps we should introduce smaller meals throughout the day as well, to increase your appetite. Cream and sugar in your coffee, and a glass of whiskey in the evening. Eat as much as you can stomach before bed, and move as little as you see fit.”

Ethan stares at her for a long moment, and she squirms under his attention, self-conscious of the blatant amount of thought she’s put into this. “Of course,” he says finally. “I should have trusted that you’d have a plan. I don’t know why I didn’t ask you first thing. Could have saved myself a few weeks of underperforming.” He grins at her. “Hold onto your hat, Miss Ives.”

Vanessa feels vaguely faint. Her hat be damned; she’ll be lucky to get out of his with just her wits.

—

Never in her life did Vanessa expect she would enjoy taking care of a man the way she enjoys keeping Ethan sedentary as he softens. In the evenings, after Sir Malcolm has gone to bed, they hole up by fire and Vanessa attends to him. She brings him coffee thick and sweet with cream and plenty of sugar, complemented by a whiskey to aid digestion and add a few extra calories. He eats all he can at supper, and then usually after a few hours, he’s regained enough room to stuff himself again with leftovers, desserts, biscuits and pastries and sweets Vanessa quietly procures during her daily walks and smuggles back up to her room lest she arouse suspicion. Ethan eats until he’s out of breath, until his every exhale gives way to a belch and he can barely speak for being so overfull. He’s gaining weight quite steadily, and he’s burst a button once already from his waistcoat after a particularly indulgent meal. 

“Tell me why this feels so good,” he moans one night, and Vanessa reaches over and gives his swollen stomach a soothing pat. 

“Because you’re giving in to your basest instincts,” she says, only half-teasing. “You’d be blacklisted from society if you ate like this in any respectable restaurant, no matter how exquisite the food or how much you might want to. A taboo, if you will. Of course it feels perversely satisfying to defy it. And besides,” she adds, “I expect you’ve been stretching your stomach quite a lot recently. It will only take more to fill you up.”

Ethan belches aloud, and both of them freeze. “Oh, god,” he groans a moment later, his cheeks flushing. “Pardon me, Miss Ives. My reflexes are a bit … buried.”

“You’re forgiven,” she says, and she can tell her face is also flaming. “Please, don’t worry about that with me. I’m helping you in this bizarre endeavor; I’ve no right to judge you for how your body responds.”

Ethan’s body responds with another, deeper belch. He looks incredibly heavy, debauched, like this, supporting his round, tight stomach with both hands. 

“Thank you,” he manages, and Vanessa tries to ignore her pervasive self-consciousness as she rubs at the curve of his belly. 

“Of course, Mr. Chandler. It’s the least I can do.”

— 

It’s not just Ethan’s stomach that’s expanding; he’s growing broader and softer all over, and it’s making Vanessa feel as if she’s dying a very slow, excruciating death. His hips and thighs swell wider than his trousers can contain, and even the next size up from the tailor isn’t large enough to fit him well. He takes to wearing sweaters rather than buttoned shirts, the swell of his stomach muted beneath the thick knits. And his face — oh, his face! — grows softer and sweeter as well, his cheeks plump and round when he smiles, his strong jawline blurred with stubble and fat. His gait has slowed a bit, the new glut of weight on his frame setting him slightly off balance, and even the stairs up to the second floor of Grandage Place leave him a bit winded. The weight suits him incredibly well, and Vanessa takes a heady, silent pride in knowing how much of it is her doing.

Finally, he bursts through even his largest pair of newly tailored pants, and Vanessa makes him stand on the scale in his nightclothes, which, despite their looseness and softness, have also started to strain. 

“Eighteen stone,” she says proudly, laying a proprietary hand on his round belly. “Oh, Ethan — look at you. How do you feel?”

“Like a Christmas goose,” he jokes. “Stuffed to the gills and then some.”

“You’ll more than fit in with the club’s membership,” she says fondly, stepping closer so that the curve of his stomach brushes the stiff ribbing of her bodice. “Just think about how much larger you’ll be after a few meetings of ingratiating yourself with them.”

Ethan puts a hand on her waist, and she holds her breath, hoping. “I’ll make you very proud, Miss Ives. Will you help me recover when I come home?”

“Of course,” she says, and he tucks her into her arms and kisses the top of her head. “I’ll be waiting.”

[daisynik7]

Gimme More

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.6k

cw: bodyguard au, no devils au, reader is thirty-years-old, Kishibe is fifty-ish, age gap, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), creampie, car sex, slight degradation (slut, whore)

Summary: Your father is the founder and CEO of one of the fastest growing tech companies in the city. As his prominence in society continues to skyrocket, he hires only the most elite people to look after his family. Kishibe started working for your father only a year ago, but already he’s his chauffeur, his bodyguard, his most trusted confidant, his right-hand man. What your father doesn’t know is that Kishibe happens to be your right-hand man as well.  

Author’s Notes: Thanks @demonwoman for the request for the y2k karaoke party! This one is inspired by "Gimme More" by Britney Spears. It’s been a minute since I wrote for Kishibe, so this was especially fun for me to write. It’s a short one, though I might expand on this in the future because the idea of bodyguard!Kishibe is making me go brrrr, LOL. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thanks for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune.

You know better than to interrupt your father when his office door is shut. Closed means he’s in the middle of discussing important matters with his business partners or that he’s in an important phone call overseas. There are no other vehicles in the driveway besides your own, so you figure it’s the latter. You continue to pace the hallway, waiting for the moment until he’s finally free. A few more minutes pass, then you hear the distinct clickof the knob being unlocked and the door creaking open. You wait a couple of seconds before barging in. 

Your dad glances up from his desk, smiling at you as you make strides towards him. “Hi, princess. Going out tonight?”

It’s obvious, considering that you’re currently dressed in your skimpiest black dress, makeup done, high heels clacking against the tile floors. You press your cheek to his, giving him a fake smooch, not wanting to ruin your lipstick with a real one. “Yes. Just want to say goodnight before I leave. I won’t be back until late.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, scanning you up and down. “Aren’t you going to be cold dressed like that?”

You roll your eyes at him. Here it is, the lecture. “I’ll be fine.”

He sighs, organizing the papers on his desk into a neat stack. “Princess, you should really start thinking about settling down soon. I mean, you’re not getting any – ”

“Don’t say it,” you interrupt him, patience wearing thin.

He waves his hands, relenting. “I’m just saying. I’m worried about you.”

You take a deep breath, deciding whether or not to debate with him. There are a thousand different arguments you can hit him with, but you know that your efforts will prove futile in the end. So instead, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead, murmuring, “Thank you for the concern. Like I said, I’ll be fine. I am fine. Don’t worry so much, okay?” 

You turn on your heel, ready to leave the house, and especially this conversation, pausing only when he demands, “Kishibe, go with her.”

You stop in your tracks, listening for Kishibe’s response. “Yes, sir,” he mutters.

Facing your father again, you scoff. “Seriously? I can’t even go out on my own anymore? Do I need to remind you that I’m thirty-fucking-years old?”

“And do I need to remind you of what happened two weeks ago?” You don’t because the memory is still fresh in your mind. The two of you were just leaving from lunch together when out of nowhere, a man grabbed you from behind, dragging you with him. It’s thanks to Kishibe, your father’s most vigilant and trusted bodyguard, that it didn’t escalate any further. 

You shake your head, understanding his concern, flashing a glance at Kishibe, who avoids your gaze by focusing on the floor. He accompanies you out the door, your father yelling, “Be careful!” before you’re out of his sight.

Kishibe follows you in silence until you’re outside on the driveway, stepping towards the car. He opens the backseat for you, waiting for you to step in. You ignore him, heading directly to the passenger seat, sliding in without his assistance. He lets out a faint grunt, shutting the door closed, walking to the driver’s side with an annoyed expression on his face. You can’t help but smirk to yourself, amused. 

This isn’t the first time your father has forced Kishibe on you. He’s only been employed a little over a year, but in his short tenure, he’s become your family’s highest-ranking bodyguard. When you began to do press alongside him, posing for magazine covers, interviews for online articles, all that jazz, Dad figured it’d be best to have him around in case you were recognized in public. And, of course, after the incident from two weeks ago, it’s to be expected that Kishibe be with you at all times. 

Little does your father know the dirty secret the two of you share. 

His hand rests lazily on the gear shift, driving the speed limit through the main street, heading towards the club downtown.  You don’t tell him an address or destination; he already knows exactly where to go. You wait until you’re well away from your gated neighborhood to make your move. It doesn’t matter; no one from the outside can see through the tinted windows. Still, it’s routine; it gives the both of you peace of mind, as if you’re doing your due diligence to hide this. Your hand grazes his, lifting it off the lever to guide it to your thigh, spreading yourself wider for him. His eyes stay focused on the road ahead, though you can see his jaw clench, nostrils flaring, his composure wavering. His fingers tease the inside of your plush skin, gradually making his way closer to your loins, throbbing with arousal. You slide the hem of your dress up, giving him more access to slip past the fabric to toy with your clit. 

You buckle in your seat, rubbing yourself deeper against him, moaning his name, loving the way he plays with you. “Almost there,” he mutters, driving faster now, a bit over the speed limit now. “Be patient for me.”

He pulls into the private lot two blocks from the club, the parking attendant flashing him a thumbs up as soon as he spots the familiar license plate. Down the row, where there are fewer cars, Kishibe backs into a spot away from any potential voyeurs. He reaches for the shift with his left hand, putting it in park, his right still working your clit, wet with your slick now. 

Finally, he leans in, kissing you sloppily on the lips, tongue lapping into your mouth greedily. He pulls his fingers away from you, mouth brushing your cheek until he’s hot on your ear, whispering, “Backseat. Now.”

You nod, already in a daze, carefully making your way to the back. He gives you a light slap on the ass, chuckling in that low, husky voice of his, following you. Once you’re both situated, you straddle his lap, your dress hoisted past your stomach, panties wet with your slick as you ride his thigh. “Is it good, princess?” he asks, watching you with a satisfied grin on his face. 

You grimace at him. “Don’t call me that.” Your dad calls you that, but you don’t say it out loud to not ruin the mood. 

“What should I call you then?” He presses his thumb to your clit, massaging it. “Slut? Whore?”

You throw you head back in pleasure, grinding against him, spurred on by the vulgar language. “Yes,” you whine, palming the erection bulging in his pants. 

“No wonder your daddy is always worried about you,” he huffs, rubbing slow circles on your sensitive bud. “Going around, slutting yourself out like this.” He kisses you passionately, unbuckling his belt. “Or are you only like this for me?”

“For you. Only for you,” you moan, swallowing his spit, frothy on your tongue. 

He shrugs his slacks down his legs, enough to free his cock, thick and girthy in his fist. “Does my pretty little slut want to get fucked now?”

You nod erratically, begging for it. “Please, Kishibe. Give it to me.” You lift up on your knees, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance. Slowly, you sink down on him, stretching around him like a perfect fit. You’re familiar with him now, your body molded only to him, no one else. He lets you be in control; lets you take what you need from him. You ride him slowly, panties bunched to the side, his shaft brushing against the lace with every thrust. 

His forehead is pressed to yours, skin damp with sweat, windows beginning to fog up from your body heat. The car creaks on its tires as you bounce on his lap faster, your climax approaching quickly. In a daze, you murmur softly, “I’m coming,” coating him in your orgasm. 

“That’s my pretty girl,” he coos, kissing you sweetly. His grip is at your waist, ready to lift you off. 

You stay seated wrapping your arms around his neck, determined. “More, Kishibe. Give me more.”

He chuckles, chest vibrating with that deep, sexy gruff you love so much. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.” He increases his pace, tightening his hold on your hips, barreling his cock deep into your cunt, hitting that sweet spot over and over until he fills you up with his load, warm and creamy inside you. 

You snuggle into him, relaxing in his arms. After a few moments of comfortable silence, you ask, “Are you worried about me too?” 

He kisses the top of your head, understanding what you’re referencing. “No.”

“You don’t think I should starting looking for a partner?” You twirl his tie around your fingers aimlessly, hoping for a particular response, pretending to be nonchalant about it. While the two of you haven’t formally admitted it yet, there’s no denying it: You love each other.  

He doesn’t speak right away, choosing his words carefully. “Why would you need one if you have me to protect you?”

You smile, satisfied with his answer. “Is this a proposal, Kishibe?” you tease him.

He squeezes you tighter in his embrace. “It is if you want it to be. Though, your father might disapprove of it. At first.”

You snuggle into his chest, giggling. “We’ll break the news to him slowly, then.”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re finally at the club, some of his creampie still inside you as you grind on him in the middle of the dancefloor, his expression stoic and serious while you beam at him.

[wh0re43van]

You are great writer! Stumbled on that on set Evan fic and it was soooo good 🔥 Lol, I actually do work on set and you really captured the atmosphere tbh. Keep it up!

Not sure if you’re open to requests rn, but I would love your take on Evan and his partner trying to make a baby for the first time. He just seems so sweet and I’d love to think of this man in a happy marriage, daydreaming about little feet running around.

Thank you so much! I truly appreciate your kind words <33

So, I decided to make this two parts. This first part is just fluff, the readers get to see Evan in kind of a paternal role in this part, baby making will be in the next, I hope you enjoy!

Also ngl, I had this done for a couple of days now, I just couldn’t think of a title :/ so sorry about that. I’m awful with titles smh

Baby fever (Evan Peters X Reader) Pt. 1

Summary: While babysitting for Evans brother, you realize that you’re finally ready to have a baby, much to your husbands delight.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: none in this part ;)

Pt2 Pt3

“Thank you again, I know it’s a bit short notice, “ Evans brother, Andrew, says as he closes the door behind him to step out onto the dim front porch with Evan, his daughter Ellie, and myself.

“Dude, It’s no problem really!” Even smiles, laying a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s always a joy having Ellie around,” he grunts as he picks up her small ‘Peppa Pig’ suitcase and her car seat.

“Yeah, Dad! They love me!” Ellie giggles as she grabs onto my arm. I smile at her snaggle toothed grin. The yellow light of the porch reflecting off her dark hair, making her curly pig tails look golden.

“They’re right Andrew,” I reiterate as we all begin to walk to Evans car, Ellie’s small hand in mine while the crickets chirp their evening song. “Now you go inside and help the Mrs. pack for your..uh.. trip. We’ve got it from here, “ I give Andrew a sympathetic smile, taking Ellie’s sippy cup out of his hand.

Andrews wife’s mother has been rushed to the hospital just a few hours ago and the couple is driving through the night to be there with her. They haven’t told Ellie the reason for the trip, all she knows is that she’s spending the weekend with Auntie y/n and Uncle Evan.

“Be sure to call me if you need anything or if Ellie just wants to talk, bye sweetie,” Andrew picks up his daughter, giving her kiss on the head.

“I love you daddy,” she giggles hugging him back quickly before trying to escape his embrace. “Let me down! I wanna go to Uncle Evans!” She Kicks her small light up sneakers, flashes of purple and red glow on the concrete as her feet hit the ground. Andrew just laughs. Thanking us again before making his way inside.

“Give me the suitcase babe, I’ll throw it in the back,” I take the pink bag out of Evans arms, walking to the trunk to toss it in.

I make my way around the vehicle to see Evan bent over struggling to get the carseat hooked in as Ellie hangs on his leg, both of them erupting in giggles.

“Ellie I can’t get this carseat in with you climbing all over me like that,” he laughs as he pulls at the locked seatbelt, trying to free it so he can stretch it through the back of the child’s seat. Ellie continues as if she hasn’t heard him, and Evan lets her. I smile at the pure joy beaming from my husband. He loves children dearly; his niece is no exception of course. He’s brought up starting a family of our own many times in the few years we’ve been married, I’ve just never felt quite ready with how much time away his job requires, but now things are slowing down and the idea of having a baby grows on me more every day.

“Now Ellie, how will we ever make it to our house if you don’t let Uncle Evan buckle your seat in?” I ask, giving her a stern look. She considers my statement, then reluctantly trudges over to me, leaning on my leg.

“Oh okay,” she frowns, looking up at me with her big hazel eyes.

“Done! … I think.” Evan exclaims, backing away from the vehicle. I stifle a laugh when I see the crooked car seat that he is ever so proud of. I simply walk up and adjust it before plopping Ellie in the seat and strap her in. Finally, we can go home.

•

•

After arriving home, we bring Ellie’s bag in to the room that she’ll be sleeping in, I take her down to the kitchen as Evan goes to change into some sleepwear. It’s a bit late, 7:00 pm and the sun’s already set for the night, but we’ve been informed that Ellie hasn’t had supper yet.

“Okay so you want a grilled cheese, we can do that, but you need to have a veggie as well,” I pick up Ellie and set her on the dining chair. She’s expressed that she wants a grilled cheese and only a grilled cheese. She even briefly tried to convince me that she’s allergic to all vegetables. “We have broccoli,” I pull a head of broccoli out of the fridge and set it on the table.

“Yuck!” The small girl rolls her tired eyes.

“Carrots,” I grab a bunch of fresh carrots, placing them in front of her.

“No way!” She shoves them away from her. I huff.

“Or we have green beans,” I reach into the pantry and set a jar of green beans next to the other veggies.

“Aunt y/n, you’re crazy. No thank you to all of them. Just a grilled cheese please,” she says in disgust, reaching for the bag of bread and block of cheese, sliding the ingredients closer to me.

��Ellie-“ I sigh, admittedly losing some patience.

“Oh wow look at all these super veggies that Aunt y/n has laid out for you. You’re lucky, she’s giving you the special ones,” Evan says coming around the corner, now in his pajamas, as he takes a seat next to his niece.

“What do you mean?” She inquires, raising a small eyebrow.

“Oh she didn’t tell you?” He gasps, shifting his gaze to wink at me. I stifle a laugh.

“These carrots,” he pulls the bunch to him. “They give you night vision.” He explains. Ellie considers his claim.

“What about this one,” she hands him the head of broccoli.

“Oh this? It just gives you super speed, no big deal I guess if you don’t want to be the next quicksilver,” he says nonchalantly, tossing the head of broccoli in between his hands. Ellie gasps, her eyes light up.

“I want this one!” She grabs the green veggie and hands it to me. “Please.” She adds, remembering her manners. I laugh.

“Don’t you want to hear about the green beans?” Evens asks, standing up from his seat.

“No thank you. Super speed please!” She crosses her hands on the table, awaiting her superpowers. Evan takes the broccoli from my grasp, turning to grab a cutting board.

“I got it honey, go upstairs and get ready for bed,” he kisses my forehead. I smile and thank him before making my way to our bedroom.

•

•

I change into some comfy pajamas and do my nightly routine of skincare and brushing my teeth before padding down the steps. Before I peak my head around the corner I hear Evan shout,

“One more time… GO!” followed by the quick stomping of tiny feet. I clear the corner to see the furniture pushed out of the way and Ellie hurtling full speed towards me. She runs right into my stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of me.

“Jesus,” I wheeze. Ellie giggles boisterously with a toothless smile.

“I’m sorry Auntie y/n,” she manages to choke out as she falls to the ground in her fit of laughter. I look to my husband with wide eyes, trying to process what happened.

“Hey don’t look at me babe, it was the supper broccoli. Hopefully it will wear off soon,” he says genuinely, putting his hands up in defense. I can’t help but laugh.

I take a moment to admire the sight of my husband standing in his sweatpants and old stained shirt draped loosely on his toned body. His beautiful brown curls that are just a bit overdue for a trim sticking out every which way, yet resting perfectly on his soft features, and his scruff filling in more and more every day that he’s doesn’t shave. The gorgeous man in front of me, smiling from ear to ear with the purest of joy in his chocolate eyes makes my heart sing. He’s truly in his element right now. The elation coming from Ellie and Evan is contagious, I find myself in a fit of laughter as well as Ellie crawls up my legs and onto my back.

“Your turn to race Auntie y/n!” She cheers.

“No, no not tonight honey,” I disappoint her with my response.

“We have to clean up and get you ready for bed,” I walk over to Evan, passing the girl on my back into his grasp. “Which will be Uncle Evans job since he’s the one that wound you up,” I raise my eye brows at him. Ellie happily rests in his arms bridal style, her gummy grin never leaving her face.

“Hey, don’t give me that look,” he begins to walk towards the steps. “You’re the one that gave Ellie speed enhancing veggies,” he reminds me, almost fooling me as well, with how serious his tone and expression are.

I roll my eyes as I turn to put our living room back together.

‘You’d think Evan would know not have a 6 year old run laps around the house half an hour before bedtime.’ I sigh as I push our couch back into place. As irritated as I want to be, I can’t help but feel giddy. Seeing how happy Evan is with Ellie makes my heart swell with joy.  

‘Maybe I will discuss having a baby with him.’ I think to myself as I replace our rug and coffee table back into the center of the room.

‘But having a child isn’t always fun. It’s much different having your own child than babysitting.’ I make note to remind him as I shove our recliner back to its designated spot.

‘And pregnancy can be complicated’ I’ll have to tell him. ‘I hope mine won’t be, but it is something you have to prepare for’ I’ll explain. He’s not the one getting pregnant so I know this may not be something he’ll consider.

I make my way to the kitchen to begin stacking the dishwasher with what little dishes Evan left in the sink before he went to destroying our living room.

‘And what will we do if you get a big job and have to fly halfway across the country while I’m in labor or freshly postpartum?’ I’ll be sure to ask. I begin to make myself nervous considering all my concerns.

‘And what if-‘

“She’s laying down,” Evans comforting voice breaks me from my thoughts. I can hear the smile as he speaks. I don’t even need to look up. “Once I finally convinced her that there is no goblin living in our guest room closet, she crawled right in bed,” his voice gets closer as he moves to wrap his strong arms around my waist, I lean back to rest my head on his shoulder, taking in his familiar scent. I turn to look up at him. I don’t know how his dimples haven’t popped right off his face from how much he’s been smiling this evening.

“Let’s have a baby,” I blurt out, looking into the pure joy glinting in his eyes. The joy turns to shock. He grabs my shoulders, spinning me around so he can search my eyes for any hint of joking. There isn’t any.

“Are you serious y/n?” He asks. The smile now just his jaw dropped to the floor, his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised so high that they’re hidden behind his curls. I chuckle at his reaction, my chest warming at how excited that one sentence has made him.

“Yes,” I simply answer. He matches my smile, pulling me into his chest so tight it almost hurts, but I don’t say anything.

“I want nothing more than that y/n,” he mumbles to the crook of my neck. I wiggle out of his grip enough to meet his gaze, seeing his mahogany eyes glistening. He blinks and a single tear threatens to escape though his long lashes. He reaches a hand up quickly to wipe the happiness attempting to leak from his eye.

“Let’s do it,” I grin. Every doubt, every concern, flying quickly out of my mind. The speech I was going to give him about the dangers and responsibilities of childbearing now long gone after seeing how happy the idea of us having our very own bundle of joy is making Evan.

“I love you so much y/n Peters,” he pulls me into a soft kiss, his lips warm against mine. I reach my hands up to bury my fingers in his curls.

“And I love you Evan Peters,” I smile against his lips. Though this kiss is gentle, but it is easily the most intimate kiss we’ve had. I can feel the adoration with every breath that fans over my face. “I think we should try as soon as Ellie goes home,” I suggest, pulling away from the kiss, resting my forehead on his.

“You wouldn’t reckon my brothers on his way home now, would you?” He jokes as he reaches down to grab my hands. Running his thumbs over my knuckles.

“I’m not even sure they’re out of the state yet Ev,” I smile at my husband. He brings both my hands up to his mouth, kissing each one gently.

“I suppose I can wait,” he sighs. I giggle, grabbing his arm to guide him to our room.

“Let’s check on Ellie one more time, then we can head to bed ourselves,” I whisper as we walk towards the guest room.

“You seriously expect me to be able to sleep, Honey? I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve night,” he flashes his dimples, I roll my eyes and smile at his excitement.

[hazbinshusk]

This one is so interesting! A kiss out of spite for Husk? 👀✨

oh, love, it took me a few to figure out where I was going with this, but I love it lol. between my laptop being an asshole and life kind of sucking, I'm just so happy to finally have this finished :)

prompt #41: a kiss out of spite.

“Ooh! And we can set up a flower arranging class over there…” Charlie points towards the far end of the hotel lobby excitedly, and you hurriedly circle the same place on the floor plan on your clipboard and mark it with a flower.

You almost trip over your own feet as she suddenly changes direction, clasping her hands together excitedly. Alastor, walking beside you with his hands tucked demurely behind his back, notices your slip with an irritatingly condescending smirk. He takes Charlie’s rerouting in stride, watching her go with the same blandly indulgent expression as a father pretending to care about their toddler’s half-gibberish rambling.

“…And over there we can host a seminar on building healthy relationships!” the princess declares, clasping her hands together and bouncing happily on her heels. Ahead of you, Vaggie is working on hanging a banner that declare the Hazbin Hotel a ‘Home for Happy Hearts!’, the flap of her wings rustling through the plants Niffty had just finished watering below her. “What d’you think?”

You scrawl the words ‘healthy seminar’ on the floorplan before looking up to meet her expectant expression. Valentine’s Day is coming up, and Charlie had recently come up with the idea to host a weekend-long event to promote building healthy connections among Sinners.

Choosing your words carefully, you give her a small, encouraging smile. “It sounds great, Charlie, I just… I don’t know if flowers and a seminar is enough to compete with the Vees.”

Every year since Valentino had claimed the title of Overlord, he’d been throwing annual fuck-fests here in Pride – an easy cash grab for him and his partners – that were supposed to emulate the bacchanalias of the Lust Ring. Mostly, it was just one big, weekend-long orgy with questionable rules about consent and overpriced merchandise.

Charlie deflates slightly. “Really?”

You shrug a shoulder apologetically. The three of you make your way towards the bar, where Husk is polishing a glass. Upon seeing the change in your trajectory, he reaches for the bottle of rye he keeps for Alastor with a sigh.

 “I just… Valentine’s Day has such a… specific vibe here in Hell. I don’t think the whole sexless group lessons on communicating is going to draw the crowds you think it will when there’s a straight up orgy happening a few blocks away.”

You take a seat at the bar, color rising in your cheeks as Husk's eyes flicker up to meet yours just as you mention the orgy. You clear your throat, missing the small smile that touches Husk's face. He turns away from the three of you when he catches him, replacing the rye on the shelf, lest Alastor notice his reaction.

Forcing yourself back to the conversation at hand, you continue, "Especially since we won't even have the draw of Hell's hottest porn star to bring people in on the day."

Angel was of course contractually obliged to help host the depravity for the Vees; he’d reluctantly left a few hours ago to go and shoot the promo pieces for the event.

“Oh.” Charlie pouts, and you immediately feel worse about voicing your concerns. Her brow furrows for a moment as she considers what you’ve said, before she breaks in to a grin. “Oh! I know! We need to film another advertisement for the hotel!”

Husk deflates slightly at the idea, setting a glass in front of you. You hadn't even noticed him making you a drink. When you smile at him by way of thanks, he shrugs a shoulder, that smile reappearing. This time, you return it.

"I don't know if that..."

"We can get some decorations up and everyone can dress up," Charlie continues, and Alastor is swirling his drink idly, looking annoyingly entertained by your inability to get your point across. "And maybe if we get some of our single residents and staff to appear in the ad..."

She gives you and Husk a pointed, hopeful look, and he holds up his hands immediately, ears falling back against his skull. "Leave me outta it, Princess. I ain't got any interest in bein' paraded around like some kinda show pony. 'sides, you might need to find someone a little younger if you wanna actually get people through the door."

"Awww," Charlie coos, and Husk rolls his eyes to the ceiling.

"This ain't self-pity, Princess." he continues. And he genuinely sounds as though he means it. Resigned, maybe, but not self-pitying. "'m bein' realistic."

"I'm afraid my old friend Husker is right, my dear," Alastor pipes up, rolling his cane between his fingers in a show of idleness. "As much as he may have mastered the art of pouring a half-decent cocktail, he hasn't the same... finesse when it comes to seduction."

Husk glowers, and you can't help yourself. "And how would you know?"

Alastor's smile twitches wider as his tone turns to one of faux-pity. "Oh, dear girl, I have known our bartender a long time. And even before he came into my employ, I think you'll find-"

"Al." Husk interjects sullenly. "I think they get the point."

"-that he didn't have too much luck in romance." The radio demon's grin takes on a wicked tilt. "Long-term, anyway. Hm, Husker?"

The bartender grunts noncommittedly, color staining his muzzle.

Charlie's still pouting sympathetically, and you swear it's making it worse for Husk. Hell, you kind of wish you could just get up and leave to spare him the audience, but somehow that feels worse - like you'd be judging him somehow. Sure, you don't know much about Husk's past, but as curious as you are, you're positive this isn't how the bartender wants his issues aired to any of you.

"I'm sure that's not true, Husk," Charlie says, and she makes move to reach out to touch his hand for a moment before reconsidering. "I'm... uh, I'm sure you could still-"

"Please don't." You have to stop yourself from smiling at Husk - he just sound so fucking done.

"Yes, Charlie..." Alastor continues smugly. He is really starting to piss you off. "We'd hate to embarrass our dear bartender any more, would we? If he's a little over the hill, it's all the-"

"Oh, for fuck's sake-" you roll your eyes, leaning over the bar and grabbing ahold of Husk's suspender. He manages a surprised flush and wide eyes before you crush your lips against his.

The kiss is abrupt and has a rough edge to it that makes your stomach swirl, but Husk relaxes into it after a moment, his paw coming up to cover the hand you have wrapped around his suspender. The other touches your cheek gently, claws sliding through the hair behind your ear. His tongue teases against your bottom lip for a moment before he remembers himself and pulls away. Still, you swear you hear the first low thrum of a purr rolling through his chest before you separate.

Both of you are blushing deeply and you snatch your hand away as you set yourself back on the stool. Charlie is staring at the two of you with hearts in her eyes and a slack jaw, and you swallow back the way your heart is in your throat to turn to Alastor.

"I don't know, Al. Seems like Husk still knows what he's doing to me." you shrug, desperately feigning detachment. You turn to Charlie. "I don't know if another ad is the way to go, but I'm sure we can think of something. Maybe you can get Alastor to talk about it on his broadcast. Maybe he could even use that famous voice of his to host events on the day."

Alastor's ever-present smile twitches, his eyes narrowing as Charlie gasps excitedly. Standing, you meet Husk's eye again. There's amusement in his gaze, and still-lingering shock. And something else that makes your heart dance against your ribcage. Forcing yourself to remain calm, you wink at him.

Husk smiles in return.

Oh, this was totally worth pissing off the radio demon.

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

[miley1442111]

hii love ur content!!! single-handedly carrying sydney adamu x reader fans rn LOL. was wondering if u could write something w femreader x syd where reader is filling in for marcus as he takes personal leave for his mom? like something with buildup and clear romantic tension in the kitchen btwn them and possible hesitation to act on it from syd’s end when they work together but immediately get tg afterwards ?? if you get the vision!! thank uuu <3333

thank you for requesting this, i love this idea so i'm going to give it two parts if that's ok!

i will always push the sydney adamu x reader agenda

in a minute- s.adamu

a/n: this is PART 1 of most likely two but i'm not sure yet. this is intended for a femreader but you can ignore that and imagine what you want :)

summary: you get a call from carmen berzatto to fill in as a pastry chef, you have nothing better to do, right?

pairing: sydney adamu x reader

warnings: mentions of a difficult workplace environment, mentions of verbal abuse, mentions of not communicating, cursing

Getting the call from Carmen Berzatto made you sick. He was your replacement in New York, he hated you, at least you thought he did. You were leaving New York for Paris, becoming a pastry chef after being sick of the stupid pressure and disgusting abuse you had gotten from restaurants over the years. Don’t get me wrong, being a pastry chef was difficult too, the insufferable people and bosses made you want to rip your hair out, but anything was better than New York. You had trained Carmen for a week, giving him your number in case he needed to ask any other questions. You assumed he’d deleted it. But no, four months into living in Chicago, teaching masterclasses and subbing in for people in various Michelin-star restaurants and bakeries, Carmen Berzatto called and asked if you could cover his pastry chef for a few weeks. You agreed and showed up the next day to see a restaurant that was not yet finished. Residue from walls lay on the floor, mould on the ceilings and an empty kitchen, bare of appliances met your eyes as you walked in. A pretty girl with headphones in stood in the locker room as you turned the corner and she startled when she noticed you. 

“Jesus! Y-you scared me,” she smiled, embarrassed.

“Sorry,” you smiled, stretching out your hand for a hand shake. “I’m y/n y/l/n, is Carmen Berzatto here? Or his partner, Sydney Adamu?”

“Oh my god, you’re Y/n y/ln. Like the only woman ever the International Union of Bakers and Pastry Chefs named ‘best pastry chef’,” she said, shocked that you were standing in front of her. 

You felt heat crawl up your back. You still couldn’t get used to people knowing who you were, it was strange. “The very same,” you practically grimaced. “So, are chefs Carmen or Sydney around?”

“I-I’m Sydney,” she smiled, shaking your hand. “Sorry if that was weird, I just… yeah.”

“It’s fine, I’m just awkward about it, don’t worry.”

“Ok,” she smiled, then snapped out of it. “What are you- I don’t know how to say this politely-”

“What am I doing here?” you finished for her and she nodded. “Carmen called me a few days ago, I trained him in New York and he apparently still has my number. He asked me to fill in for Marcus?” 

“Yeah, ok. So… umm, yeah ok. That’s cool,” She said, still coming to grips with it. 

“He didn’t tell you?” 

“No,” she admitted, sighing. 

“He always was kind of a dick. Don’t worry, I bet he’s just cooling-off or something, he used to get so angry we’d shove him in the freezer for a few minutes to let him calm down.”

Sydney looked at you in bewilderment. 

“I take it that he’s still like that?” you chuckled. 

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Only sometimes though.”

“‘Sometimes’ is too much for me, if he starts pulling that shit I’ll send him out. He’s such a baby sometimes,” you reminisced. “Sorry, if that’s rude since he’s your partner.”

“Well, he doesn’t really feel like a partner,” she sighed, leading you to the office. 

“Not communicating?”

“Never. I didn’t even know we were pulling down walls until they were down.”

“Shit, that’s awful,” you sighed. 

“I’ll call him and see where he is, just wait in here,” she smiled and opened the door for you, then left you alone. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

WEEK 1

Working at the Bear was different to anywhere else you’d worked. The people there were interesting in a way that only people outside of the Michelin-restaurant world could be. None of the bullshit you’d dealt with in New York, none of the crap you had to put up with in Paris. They were professional, but they cared about each other. Tina had become a good friend in only the one week you’d been there. Richie was pissing you off enough to warrant stabbing- something that had apparently happened before, and Carmen was either there all the time, or nowhere to be seen. 

And then, there was Sydney. Sydney had essentially fucked you up. From the moment you’d met her, you knew you were fucked. Her soft smile and endearing awkwardness made her basically irresistible. It was embarrassing how in just one week, you felt like you couldn’t be in the same room as her, yet you craved to be near her all the time. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Yo, you good?’ Sydney asked as you mapped out dessert ideas Marcus had sent you.

“Huh? Oh-yeah, all good,” you smiled.

“How do you like it?” she asked, cleaning the new silverware. 

“Like what?”

“The Bear?”

“It’s nice. Calmer than the restaurants I’ve worked in,” you answered and she laughed.

“This is calm for you?” 

“You should’ve seen Carmen and I’s boss in New York. Every night he’d make me stay until after closing, fixing any mistakes I’d made if I’d made any. After a while, it was just verbal abuse,” you chuckled and she smiled half-heartedly at you, her eyes missing the certain glow she usually had. 

“Sounds fun,” she joked, but it fell flat on both ends, then she walked away. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d made a fool of yourself, or made her uncomfortable. 

You internally kicked yourself. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

WEEK 2

You liked to pride yourself on two things, your standards in the kitchen, and your ability to stay calm under any circumstance. One of those didn’t apply to the current situation, and the other had been thrown out the window 3 minutes ago when this conversation started, more specifically, when Sydney started touching your arm. 

Carmen had finally come in and you’d gotten in a fight over the menu. You wanted something Marcus had suggested and Carmen wanted fucking fig rolls or something, you didn’t exactly know but you do know that it ended in you storming off to the back of the Bear and Carmen storming off to his office. You felt a swell in your heart when Sydney had come to you first, before she went to talk to Carmen. 

“You good?” she asked, accompanying you in the freezing air. You didn’t respond, still annoyed from the conversation. “Earth to Y/n?” Sydney had grabbed your arm and your eyes trained themselves on hers. 

“Yeah, just pissed,” you sighed, answering her first question. “He really doesn’t listen, does he?” You yawned. Sydney’s hand felt like it was burning itself into your skin. 

“No, he kind of refuses to,” she joked. “But if it makes you feel any better, I like your ideas more.”

“They’re Marcus’s ideas, just my drawings,” you were quick to deflect the compliment.

“Well they're beautiful,” she declared, with some uncertain meaning behind her words. ‘Well, you’re beautiful’ is what you picked up from her insinuation and your heart beat much faster than before. “Coming back in?” She dropped her hand and you finally let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“In a minute.” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

WEEK 3 

Ok, so maybe you could pride yourself on just one more thing, the effect you had on Sydney. 

For the past two weeks, it’d been fleeting glances, the creating and taking of opportunities to touch each other, and small flirty conversation. Sydney had asked you to taste test some restaurants with her, and you had a great time. Conversation flowed, you felt relaxed for the first time in what felt like years, and you were spending time with the girl you liked. 

“Y/N?” You heard Sydney’s voice from behind you. “Behind!” she said. 

You had asked an old friend if you could borrow his restaurant's kitchen and he obliged, knowing he owed you a favour from when you saved him from being fired 7 years ago. 

“Yeah?” You called back, focused on your plating. 

“You almost done?”

“Almost,” you added the finishing touches to the plate and stepped back, a silent victory. It looked delicious. “Done!”

She handed you a fork and you took a bite at the same time. It tasted… terrible. You both spit it out into the sink behind you, then looked at each other and laughed. 

“That is god-awful,” you coughed, a laugh making its way out of your mouth.  

“Oh fuck that’s bad,” she laughed with you, a hand on your shoulder to brace herself. 

Both your laughters died down and her hand remained. She looked so beautiful, her hair pulled back in a blue bandana, her regular chef-white swapped for a green t-shirt and white overalls, and a smile on her face. You seized the moment and kissed her, it started out soft, cautious. Though it quickly divulged into something less sweet. Her tongue was in your mouth and your hands were roaming her waist. She gasped when you bit her lip and you smirked into the kiss. A buzzing noise pulled you two apart, heavy breathing and an uncomfortable stare of ‘what did we just do?’. You grabbed your buzzing phone, bag, and jacket, and left her in the restaurant. 

Was it the coward’s way out? Yes. Did that matter much to you? No. 

Not one bit.

[wavypotatochips]

can i request reader being very close to the psg like maybe she works there or something and sergio has a huge crush on her but she has a boyfriend so he doesn’t say anything but one night she finds out that he cheats on her and she goes to sergio and he’s absolutely mad but comforts her and like he holds her and he’s very soft with her? thank you so much

LEAN ON ME | Sergio Ramos

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: Sergio Ramos x Female Reader

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 3.1k

𝘈𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: Thank you so much for leaving a request! This is my first request which makes me more happy than you think (LOL). I hope I did a good job representing your idea ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚!! I hope you like it!

[Translator Spanish is used]

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ♥

"Are you looking forward to playing tomorrow?" You smile and ask Sergio Ramos. He's lying down on a mat, and you're turning his ankle to assist extending it. “Of course I am, but I can’t lie, I will miss you giving me massages.” You smile as he playfully teases you. The last day of rehab for Ramos, who hurt his ankle a few games ago, is today. You have been a physical therapist for PSG for four years. Sergio had no problem taking the longer path to heal, despite the fact that most professional soccer players try their best to return to the field as soon as possible. It indicated that he could, after all, spend more time with you. You and him grew closer during the years you spent working at PSG and are now great friends; best-friends. Although you consider your connection to be a friendship, he wishes it was more. He has been crushing on you for the past three years. He knows you have a partner of two years, therefore he never tried to hit on you. But, he still regrets not telling you how he really felt back when you were single.

Three years ago, PSG co-hosted a charity event in the French Riviera resort town of Saint Tropez. Considering how beautiful the surroundings are in Saint Tropez, you were more than delighted to accept the invitation to join the team on behalf of the staff. You strolled outside to the balcony during the event because you wanted to get some fresh air. With your large champagne glass in hand, you peered over the edge to take in the stunning surroundings. As you took a sip of your beverage, you exhaled a small sigh of relaxation. 

As he saw you outside, Ramos, who had just been passing the balcony door, stopped moving. He lingered there for a short while, observing the wind's gentle movement of your black dress and hair. The scene in front of him was something that should have been documented, and he wished he had his phone with him right then. Knowing that you can become easily overwhelmed, he went outside to see how you were doing. “Y/N, You ok?” As you turned around, he questioned. He felt as though his heart missed a beat upon seeing your face. “Yeah I'm fine no worries! Just needed some air, you know?” He grinned back at you after noticing your smile. “Of course, I guess I need some air too.” He approached you while taking another glance over the balcony's edge. “The water is nice right?” As you faced him you said, “ Nice? Es absolutamente precioso!" (It is absolutely gorgeous)You've always had a passion for the outdoors, especially anything involving aquatic environments. "I'm sorry, precioso (gorgeous), I'm sorry!"  While you were laughing at him, you saw his tie wasn't tied properly, so you moved over to him and went to grab it. "Let me straighten your tie; it doesn't look right." As you focused on his tie, he smiled as he gazed down at you and admired your face. After you were done, you looked up into his eyes only to notice that he was already looking down at you. “What?” You laughed nervously as you became aware of your proximity to one another. Ramos wanted to tell you right there and then how he fell in love with you. He wanted to express to you how lovely your soul was and how fortunate he was to know someone like you. His heart pleaded with him to be honest, but his mind fought back, urging him not to, as he continued to stare into your eyes. That day, he wanted to ask you on a date. That day, he wanted to ask you to be his. His fear, though, got the best of him.“Nothing. Thank you for fixing it. I should probably go back inside. No quiero tener que darle una paliza a alguien por intentar secuestrarte, así que no te quedes aquí sola mucho tiempo." (I don't want to have to beat someone up for trying to kidnap you, so don't remain out here by yourself for too long.) He remarked in humor as he walked away. 

He occasionally recalls that evening. Especially knowing that you met the person you are currently dating there.

Waving your hands back and forth, you exclaim, "¡Hola ! ¡Tierra a Ramos?" (Hello! Earth to Ramos??) He appears to have drifted off for a few moments. “Are you okay? Do you need water?” Right now, you're standing next to him with your hands on your hips. He blinks a few times while standing up and pinches the bridge of his nose while briefly closing his eyes. “No, I'm fine. "Sorry about that," he pauses as he pulls his hand from his face and begins to rise from the mat, "just thinking about the game setup, that's all. Are you gonna come watch me?” You have always attended the games to cheer him on, so it's not odd that he personally requests that you watch him- not the team. He is the only patient you have at the moment so he knows that after him, your schedule will be clear. "I would love to, but after this I'm surprising Jake- He has no idea I'm returning home a day early, so I thought it would be a nice surprise!" Thinking about the joy your boyfriend will display, you respond with enthusiasm. First, you informed him that you would be staying in the staff residence for an additional day in case the initial on-field medic was unable to arrive. He ultimately stated that he would be good to go to work, so you decided it would be best to surprise him rather than notify him. Ramos smiles at you while trying to hide his initial sadness, saying, "Oh, that sounds like fun, I bet he'll be glad to see you." Ramos tightly embraces you and says, "Drive home safe," as he does so you say, "I will," as you return his hug. He retrieves his phone, which was still on the mat, as he starts to walk towards the door. "Good luck in tomorrow's game, and remember," you say as you point to him, "no more injuries!" He laughs at your attempt to scold him. “Don't worry Dr, I'll behave nicely," he gives you a wink as he exits the stretch room area, knowing he is leaving the building.

Once he left, you cleaned the space and grabbed your things. Before leaving, you hum to yourself as you make sure you have everything. It is around 7:30pm when you finally leave the building. When driving home, you kept thinking of your loving partner, and the smile on your face didn't fade. You pull in and park next to your boyfriend's car, surprised to see it in the driveway. In an effort to prevent the surprise from being ruined, you bite your lower lip and pray that he did not hear your car pull up. You had intended to arrive before he did so you could change, but you are still in your business attire, which consists of a khaki pair of pants and a short-sleeved navy polo shirt with your badge fastened to the chest.You carefully open the door with your key and tiptoe inside. You take off your shoes, set them on the rack at the front entrance, and start to make your way around the house, trying to catch him off guard. You first snoop around the kitchen. He wasn't there. Perhaps in the living room? Not there. As there is nowhere else he could be but upstairs in the bedroom, that must suggest he is there. You attempt to muffle the giggles that are attempting to leave your lips by covering your mouth. When you finally reach your closed bedroom door, you exclaim "SURPRISE!" as you rapidly open it. As soon as you see the picture in front of you, your smile disappears. Your lover, who has been with you for almost three years, is currently having another girl suck his dick. He enlarges his eyes and swiftly shoves the girl away from him, causing her to shriek as she hits the ground. “Babe, it's not what it looks like!” He shouts, grabbing a blanket to cover his lower body. You simply stand there, unable to speak or cry because you are so shocked. It's not like you're in a relationship with the woman, so you have no reason to be angry with her. You are associated with HIM. You swiftly turn around and dash downstairs before he even has a chance to get to you. "Y/N! BABY, PLEEEASE!" He shouts, grabbing your hand before you open the front door. “DO NOT TOUCH ME” You yell and strike his hand angrily. "I never want to see your face fucking again," you say as you stare at him with disgust. We are done. Did you forget that this is my house?” You question him, gently clenching your mouth and laughing at him. When you are extremely angry, you often find yourself laughing. “You have 3 FUCKING days to move out.” As you turn around, you fling open the front door and slam it behind you. You didn't even have time to put your shoes back on, and now you're hurrying to get in your car and drive off. You can't help but lean your head against the driving wheel as soon as you get in the car. The madness you were experiencing is now slowly turning into sadness, and you can almost feel the tears starting to come. You sit back up and turn the key in your car, sniffing the tears away. "Y/N BABY WAIT WAIT, LET'S DISCUSS THIS!" Jake is currently running towards your automobile. It appears that he hurried back upstairs to put on some sweatpants, you were able to enter your car without encountering any problems. As you swiftly reverse out of the driveway and accelerate away, you point your middle finger in his direction. It was now 8:20pm and you had no idea where you should go. You could have simply checked into a hotel, but you didn't want to feel even more alone than you do now, especially at the moment when your heart is shattering. You sniffle once again while driving, attempting desperately to contain your tears. Your memory is hazy, and you had trouble recalling hotel names or the location of the psg staff housing. 

Yet, one address sticks out in your memory because you had just been there the week prior to bring medicines. Sergio Ramos' house.

Without caring that your parking is awful, you swiftly pull into his driveway. You jump out of the car and rush to his door, knocking on it quickly. Your face starts to get wet as the tears you've been holding back finally start to fall. Ramos unlocks the door a few minutes later, puzzled as to who would be here at this hour. As he notices you crying, his heart sinks, and he instantly grabs you by the arms and asks, "Y/N, what's happened?" You are speechless as you sobbed in his arms.He scans the area and notices that you are the only person present. He bends down slightly and lifts you up, carrying you into the house with ease. He understands that you may not want to discuss anything right now, so he will simply sit by you in the interim. He leads you over to his couch and sits you down before joining you. You're sobbing so loudly that you start coughing because you can't breathe. He rubs your back with his hand and says, "Está bien, rayo de sol…. Estarás bien, estoy aquí" (It's okay, sunshine...You’ll be okay, I'm here), he mumbles. You sigh and try to keep your breathing under control while wiping your eyes with the back of your arm. For a brief period, you two sat in silence. Ramos remained by your side, his gaze fixed on you with concern. He doesn't want to upset you any more than you are now, so he decides to keep quiet and continue to rub your back for comfort. As you sit up, your puffy eyes glance up into his as you start, "Sergio...I-It was Jake….. I caught him cheating on me with some bitch!” You place your head into your hands, shaking your head. Ramos widens his eyes hearing the news, adrenaline running through his veins as he quickly stands up. “¿Jake te hizo esto? Ese bueno para nada pedazo de mierda cuando lo vea voy a…-" (Jake did this to you??? That good for nothing piece of shit when I see him I'm going to-) his sentence is cut when he hears you whisper to yourself, “why me?” He holds back his rage because right now, you are his first concern. Jake will be dealt with later. In an effort to get you to lift your head, he squats down in front of you and places his finger under your chin. “Beautiful, don’t think you are the issue.” There is a brief pause as he looks into your eyes, his heart aching at the sight. “How about I start the shower for you? You stay the night here and I can just sleep on the couch.” He offers. You nod in agreement, realizing that what you really need is a hot, relaxing shower. He stands up with a smile on his face and extends his hand for you to take. You get to your feet and grab his hand as he leads you upstairs. You two enter his master bedroom and push open the door to his lavish master bathroom. Normally, you would have been in awe of its magnificence, but right now, all you want to do is take a shower and go to bed. Sergio releases your grip before approaching and turns on the shower. He checks the water's temperature by feeling it. He then moves over to a cabinet underneath the sink, reaches in, pulls out a towel for you, and sets it on the sink counter. “Clothes will be laid out for you in my room,” he says, making his way back to the door to leave. You ask, "Sergio?," which causes him to halt in his tracks and swiftly turn to face you. You say, "Thank you," and give him a tiny smile. He gives you his infamous smile and says, "Anything for you," winking as he closes the door. You couldn't help but smile, gently shaking your head as you began to undress so you could shower.

While still being upset mentally, you felt a bit better physically after taking a shower. 2 years down the drain, you thought to yourself. It just made matters worse catching him cheating IN THE BED YOU SLEEP IN. You groan and make an effort not to think about the image that won't leave your thoughts. As you exit the steamy bathroom, you proceed to his bed, where the promised garments are spread out. He has a shirt and a pair of shorts put out. You only put the shirt on after seeing how long it was on you. Given how long it takes for your hair to dry and how much you'd rather be sleeping right now, you're glad you didn't wet it. "Is it safe to come in?" Sergio asks as he knocks on the door. You yell, "Yes," as you watch him enter the room. “I just want to make sure you're okay before I go to sleep.” You nod and say, "I think I'll be okay." He nods at you subtly and says, "All right. I'm down the hall if you need me. Goodnight Y/N,” He makes a turn to leave the room. “Actually Sergio, ¿te importaría quedarte un rato?"(do you mind staying for a bit?) Although it makes you uncomfortable to inquire, the fact that he is here right now is the only thing keeping you from crying once more. You're exhausted both mentally and physically as a result of all the crying you did earlier. He watches you climb up onto the bed and tuck yourself in, saying, "Of course. You indicate that you want him to lay down next to you by patting the space nearby. He abides by your request, laying down above the covers beside you. You naturally cuddle up against his side, your head on his chest allowing you to hear his heartbeat. You're practically cuddling with your closest friend despite the fact that you just dumped your boyfriend for infidelity. Screw it, you'll deal with the consequences tomorrow. As long as you are not alone. “Y/N, you know you didn’t deserve that. I don't want you to try and find a way to put the blame on yourself.” He wraps his arm around you again, caressing your back up and down, knowing how much that relaxes you. "I know," you sigh again. “It just sucks, you know?” You mutter incoherently because you are genuinely unsure of how to feel or even what to say. After feeling down, you enter this "numb" mental state where your mind just feels full. Stuffed with nothing. He leans his head on top of yours, "I get it. I'm sorry you have to go through this… We can go shopping before the game tomorrow? Or we can go hiking together? He says, trying to cheer you up, "I know you'll like that.” You don't say anything as he starts to prod you, "Hmmmmmm? Hmmmmmmm?” You look up at him and give him a mild glare since you find his poking annoying.You were on the verge of dozing off. You murmur, "I'll think about it." "The hike includes a magnificent waterfall..." he adds, knowing that you adore waterfalls. "Alright, maybe," you reply as you place your head back on his chest. Hearing your response, he smiles warmly, trying to do everything he can to make you feel better. He caressed your back all night long, holding you in his arms as you dozed off. Although he was aware that you simply didn't want to be left alone, he secretly desired you two could remain in bed together, curled up like this, for all time. He obviously did not want the situation to happen to you, but he couldn't help but enjoy how close you two are right now. He had wanted this long ago. He was enraged by the thought of Jake, and he knew the flame wouldn't go out until he had something to unleash it on. He was more prepared than ever to participate in the futebol match tomorrow.

And when tomorrow came and the game ended- It was no surprise that he won player of the match.

[boombambaby]

Bestie! >3< I'm writing a whole novel for you just now bc I'm stupid and fell asleep last night.

Anyway... Look, I truly enjoy your writing! You're the best Kuzco I've ever seen, truly! I'll be real honest with you. I was looking for a ENG friend bc I barely can talk about it irl, and I wondered if there was someone out there who would love the franchise as much as I do.

So, I looked for all the Kuzco content online, including Twitter, so I checked there every single day for official or fan updates about Kuzco, until I found your RP account. When I first read your portrayal of the character, I was amazed by how accurate you wrote him! I've been reading all the fanfics for ages and I'm so strict when it comes to ppl writing his personality (He's my comfort character alongside Malina pls.), some did him dirty or they couldn't capture his Kuzcharisma that much I felt like something was missing, but when I read your stuff, it makes me feel happy bc I feel like I'm watching a real ep of the show or a third movie of him I've always wanted to see! That's why I wanted to reach out to you, I asked for advice in an attempt of saying: I WANT TO BE YOUR 2ND MALINA BUT IDK IF YOU WANT TO WRITE WITH ME TOO. ahem. I was planning to do an account for her many years ago but I never did. And welp, you asked for a Malina here so I finally was all: IT'S MY CUE!! >:0 I'M THROWING AWAY MY SHYNESS AND SHOW MYSELF AHAGHA and voilà! My Malina was born. Hshs even though I'm not the best, I always try to do decently so you can have a good experience ehe. I'm having a blast so far! You're too hilarious and sassy and and simply ✨️Kuzcorrific✨️

Thank you for being my writing partner and the best bestie I've ever had! I'm honored you like my version of Malina even if she's a menace. Your kind words when I also feel down on myself gives me motivation to keep going! Don't ever stop writing Kuzco! I'm not allowing it! You have plenty of ppl who also adore your writing! You're a kind soul and don't deserve to feel bad about yourself ;;

I LOVE YOU TO PIECES BESTIE. KEEP DOING THE EXCELLENT JOB! 💕❤️♥️

Bestie you went and did it and made me cry ckskekvkcn.

HOW DARE YOU???

Words couldn’t ever express how happy I am you reached out to me back on Twitter, and how excited I was when your Malina popped up here after my long shot post about wanting one!

I’m so glad you got over your shyness and took my advice, I’m a huge advocate for people to try RP out, especially if they love to write because it can be a lot of fun and a great community, especially here on Tumblr, I’m learning.

I’ll fight you for not agreeing that your Malina is incredible, because she is and I love writing all of the crack / fluff / angst / ideas and everything we decide to try with you! Even though it means having like 40+ SL’s going at once lol. And even though she is definitely a menace, you got that right. 😂

Thank you for putting up with me bestie 🥹❤️

I LOVE YOU TOO!! And thank you for always being there for me when I need you cjskrkvkvj ❤️❤️❤️

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Trust

ShinoMitsu Week 2023 Day Five

A/N: This one was hard to write until it wasn’t. The worst part was trying to come up with an idea and I was even iffy writing about ice skating as I ultimately decided to do because I know basically nothing about it, but watching some stuff on YouTube helped lol. Thanks for reading! Word Count: 1,094

Their coach had stepped away from the rink to take an important phone call, leaving Shinobu and Mitsuri to their own devices. They had just won a pairs skating event yesterday and were still riding the high. Despite their overwhelming victory, practice was held the next day as usual. No time to celebrate or relax when you are trying to make the Olympics. However, with their coach distracted, Shinobu convinced Mitsuri to goof around a little bit.

“Come on, he’s not going to know.” Shinobu singsonged, skating backwards around Mitsuri. She held her arms outstretched and wiggled her fingers at her skating partner and girlfriend enticingly.

“We should really be doing drills…” Mitsuri weakly refuted, yet she took Shinobu’s hands on her next loop around, joining her in a slow spin.

“What’s Tomioka going to do? We’re his star pair. We succeed even though he’s quite lacking as a coach. I think we earned a little time to just skate without the intention of perfect precision for a minute, don’t you? Like when we were kids.”

Mitsuri recalled where they started from years ago and smiled fondly. They had nearly grown up on the ice of this very rink. The memories they had here could not be replaced for anything. They even shared their confession and first kiss behind the bleachers after a passionate routine that left their feelings bare with the moves they executed. Subtle movements and expressions that only they could correctly interpret.

“Okay, just a minute though.”

They swayed and swirled together, hands interlocked, gazing at each other with boundless love and devotion.

“I want to try something,” Shinobu suddenly spoke, “Be my partner?”

“Always.” Mitsuri cocked her head to the side, “But what is it?” She didn’t trust the gleam in Shinobu’s eye.

“I want try a headbanger and then get raised up into a Detroiter. Wouldn’t that be exhilarating?”

“What? No!” Mitsuri gawked.

“But we never get to do those in competition. When else would we be able to give them a try?” Shinobu asked, almost pouting.

“We don’t do those in competition because they’re banned moves, Shinobu! And for good reason, you could get horribly hurt!”

“Oh Mitsuri,” Shinobu sighed, “If you had half of the trust I have in you, you’d believe you could do anything.”

“This isn’t a confidence issue, it’s just a common sense safety concern.”

“So you think you could swing me around and then pop me up over your head successfully, but you still won’t do it?”

“Well, yeah! You weigh nothing to me, I’ve thrown and lifted you a billion times before. But even if I think I can do it, I wouldn’t want to run the risk hurting you.”

“Please, Mitsuri?”

“Nope, not doing it.” Mitsuri stuck her nose up and Shinobu hummed, shrugging her shoulders.

“Then I guess I’ll ask Kyoujirou when he comes to practice tomorrow. I bet he would give it a try.”

“Eh?!” Mitsuri shook her head, “You can’t!”

“Why can’t I? I’m in the prime of my life. This is something I would like to do before I’m too old. I’d rather do it with you, but if you don’t want to—“

“Fine!” Mitsuri cut her off, dragging her closer as if she was worried Kyoujirou would suddenly pop in and steal Shinobu away, “Okay, I’ll do it!”

Shinobu suppressed a smug smile. Mitsuri was a very sweet and easy going girl, but when it came to skating, she couldn’t stand the idea of Shinobu skating with someone else. It was the one thing she simply could not compromise on.

However, Shinobu didn’t want to manipulate Mitsuri into doing something she truly didn’t want to do. She only meant to tease her a bit.

“I’m only teasing, Mitsuri. I won’t ask him. Kyoujirou only does singles anyway so it probably wouldn’t end well.”

Mitsuri still wore a pensive expression and after a moment, Shinobu felt the grip Mitsuri had on her waist tighten.

“Mitsuri?”

“Engage your core.”

Shinobu asked no further questions and simply grinned, letting Mitsuri spin her around the ice, gaining enough speed to make their hair whip around them. Shinobu took her partner’s cue and rose her leg to Mitsuri’s hip. Her hand encircled Shinobu’s ankle and when enough speed was gained, Shinobu brought her other foot off of the ice and into Mitsuri’s free hand, going stiff as a board.

It was so exhilarating, she couldn’t help but laugh, not even blinking when her nose came within inches of the ice. After a handful of dizzying spins, Mitsuri suddenly let go of Shinobu’s left ankle, but she did not panic, staying rigid as Mitsuri took hold of her right arm on the upswing.

Shinobu caught the determined look of concentration on Mitsuri’s face when she was flipped into a bridal carry and then hoisted above her head to rest briefly on Mitsuri’s shoulders behind her neck while her hands moved meticulously to find a better grip, all the while they still spun, scraping several rings into the ice.

Then Mitsuri lifted Shinobu clear over her head and when the speed was right, she briefly lowered one hand, spinning Shinobu over her head with but a single arm. When she began to slow, she brought her other hand back, dropping Shinobu back down to her chest into a bridal carry once more and finally slowing to a stop, breathing heavily, windswept, rose-y cheeked and matching Shinobu’s grin. Shinobu rose her hands up to cup Mitsuri’s face and lightly stroked her cheeks with her fingers.

“I knew you could do it. That was incredible. You are incredible. Thank you.”

“You bring it out of me.” Mitsuri murmured, nuzzling her forehead against Shinobu’s.

“You’re supposed to be doing drills.” A monotonous voice drawled.

“Come on, Coach,” Shinobu sighed, “Let us live a little. This is why people don’t like you very much.”

Giyuu blinked once slowly, stone faced. Then he pointed at the couple, “Drills. Now.”

Before Shinobu could retort against the poor man, Mitsuri kissed her quickly, then brought her back to her feet.

“Come on, Shinobu! We only have an hour before open skate and I want to practice more lifts and didn’t you want to practice the toss into a triple salchow?”

Shinobu knew an attempt to distract when she saw one, but she chose to give Giyuu some slack. Mitsuri had just done her a huge favor anyway, the least she could do was follow her lead now. She took Mitsuri’s hand and kissed her palm.

“Whatever you’d like my dear.”

[primordialruin]

munday writing detail meme!

Name: Kotys

Age range: under 18 | between 18 and 25 | 25 and older

Pronouns: She/Her

Random fact about me: I have sectoral heterochromia. My irises are half blue and half green.

When it comes to planning threads: I like to wing it completely | I like to plan the start of the thread | I like to plan several key points in the thread | I like to plan every reply | It depends (elaborate)

Pre-established relationships between muses: I enjoy them | I like them occasionally but mostly prefer to play the relationship out | I don't do pre-established relationships

When it comes to replies, I like to: Keep mine short (1-2 paragraphs) | Keep mine to medium length | Keep my replies long (10+ paragraphs) | It depends (elaborate) The mood dictates the length of the reply, and it also depends on the driving point of my reply. It's important to me that I can express my muse in an appropriate way that gives your muse & the overall thread the necessary hooks for us to grab and continue the story.

I generally try to reply in: 1 day | 3 days | A week | Within a month | More than a month

I like getting asks for memes I reblogged a long time ago: Yes | No | Depends

I like getting random IC asks from my mutuals: Yes | No | Depends

I like getting tagged in unplanned starters from my mutuals: Yes | No | Depends

I like getting getting OOC asks from my mutuals to plan our threads: Yes | No | Depends

I like getting getting OOC asks from my mutuals just to chat about things not related to RP: Yes | No | Depends (K here - I'm not good at keeping conversations cuz I get tired fast in social situations. You can talk to me about regular degular stuff if you wanna but it's not what I seek here. I'm here to focus on rp first and foremost 🫶 hence ooc friendships might be hard to create with me but I prommy I love all the friends who have patiently grown a friendship with me over months of friendly slowburn lmao)

I enjoy writing: Drama! I love having an external conflict that drives our muses in a certain direction where they can grow their relationship. :) I'm not great at banter for the sake of banter. I need a story.

I don't enjoy writing: Fast banter. I don't have the time to spend on quick back and forths. I wish I did tho. It looks super fun! Also smut. I'm so awkward with it, I just can't do it without being beet red in the face. I can try, but it's got to be part of a bigger story so I don't feel like there's a spotlight on the act.

My favourite tropes are: Rivals to friends/lovers and friends/lovers to rivals. Found family. Secret identities. Funny slice of life situations.

Opinion on shipping (for a specific character or in general): It's good 👍 I'm a huge sucker for slowburn. I don't like jumping into ships because I love building up to them. Sometimes baking the cake is more fun than eating it if you catch my drift.

I get inspired to write by doing this: Listen to music that feels appropriate to the storyline's current mood, hallucinate the scene with my mind's eye, write down the main idea I want to convey in my reply, note a couple of bullet points then take a break and come back when I'm able to revise my ideas and actually write the reply. This is mostly for big threads with big plot points, or threads I've lost the initial creative inertia for. I don't always take breaks to revise, but this is mostly the gist of my process.

One of my favourite threads/drabbles/etc: On my SpyxFam blog, my Yor and I wrote an AMAZING thread in which our fake spouses found each other after my muse had to fake his death. I think it was the best thread I've ever written with someone. My incredible RP partner helped me push against my writing limits & I feel like I am a much better writer thanks to them. I think our thread went for 6 months lol it was such a good experience!!! I've also written Lilith a couple years ago with an incredible Lucifer that I hold fondly to my heart. It was just as good!

A writing partner (or partners!) I've enjoyed writing with: My incredible Yor on my SXF blogs and a couple of writers I've sadly lost contact with. I hope they're fine.

A mutual I want to write with but haven't yet: Oh man, all of you!

Tagged by: none, found this on the for you page

Tagging: you!

[junowritings]

Would I be able to get a BG3 match matchup if that's still something you're doing? Thank you so much in advance!

I'm a non binary person with a slight masc leaning preference for partners - I work in a job that needs me to be extremely organised. Luckily that's how my brain works! I like to plan my future, events, holidays etc and I get very antsy when I don't know what's in store for me. I have red hair and blue eyes with perpetual eye bags and am about average height.

I like drawing, reading, board games, video games, playing DnD, writing and walking my dog. I'm an animal lover, and I'm happiest when I'm cuddled with a dog and/or cat in front of a warm fire and taking it easy! I can be quite chatty, especially around people I know well, but places like bars and clubs can be too loud and stressful for me - by the time it hits 11 o'clock, I'm ready to go to bed lol - I'm a low energy person who can only take so much social interaction.

I'm independent and dislike overbearing partners due to a negative history with them - I like a partner who is happy to work on their own thing and let me work on mine without being worried about them becoming upset. I'm big into cuddles, sharing my hobbies and gift giving with a SO - to me, the best relationships feel like friendships with extra steps.

Again thank you so much, and I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Heyya hun thank you so much for the lovely matchup! After a little thinking I think a wonderful match for you would be...

I believe that you and the tiefling will make for an adorable pair, one who compliments one anothers best attributes well!

He certainly appreciates someone who plans ahead for things. It shows a commitment both to your work and the events of your life - you’re taking the initiative to plan ahead for things yet to come. He will be the first to admit that he doesn’t always stress himself over particulars, as he knows that future events may not always go exactly to plan even with rigorous planning. In a way though his own outlook generates a balance for yours - someone who will be there to offer support for the times in life where your plans go awry.  

He loves watching you get that same look of concentration when you’re planning or organizing, practically watching the cogs turn in your head as you work out the how’s and when’s of future events. He’s seen how that beautiful brain of yours helps you to thrive at work by keeping things organized and under control. Dammon’s job is definitely more on the side of it can be chaotic but he knows the place of everything so it’s got order in HIS mind, but it definitely requires a lot of firm deadlines and compensating for surprises or deviations. 

He enjoys the planning aspect of upcoming events or holidays, and will be more than happy to work on a united front for anything important cropping up. Dammon’s got a habit of scribbling down important dates and notes as reminders and tucking them away in his apron for safekeeping. It’s an old habit he picked up years ago, and it’s honestly sweet when you come across them as they’re usually reminders for date nights, future days off with you or gift ideas- those latter notes often get his cheeks turning copper as he teases that he’ll have to just come up with even better ideas now that you’re privy to his plans. After one too many instances of losing said notes when he forgets to take them out on laundry day however, the pair of you may have to invest in a calendar; though be warned the tiefling has a tendency to scribble notes on the margins alongside the daily reminders.

Since settling down in Baldur’s gate and finally being allowed some modicum of a peaceful life, Dammon has a renewed appreciation for all of the little creature comforts. And with you in his life now, he’s come to appreciate them all the more. Whenever he’s got breaks at work and time allows he’ll make a point to come and spend time with you, enjoying some time away from the forge to join you walking the dog or getting food together to bring back to work. Whatever the place or the time, Dammon will quite happily carve out a space for you in his daily life.

That being said Dammon adores being able to come home to you. Before he met you his room was little more than a place to sleep between work hours; sure he made it cozy and filled it with things to pass the time. But there’s something about sharing that space with you that makes him start looking forward to coming home. These small domestic moments of existing around your partner are treasured; so I hope you don’t mind adding an incredibly doting and affectionate tiefling to that fireside cuddle pile with your pooch!

I don’t know if this counts as a bar, but Dammon does occasionally like to drop by the tavern to catch up with old friends - stopping by to listen to Alfira’s latest song, checking in with Bex and Danis, and enjoying some playful ribbing with Rolan, Lia and Cal over drinks. If you’re ever up for joining him Dammon would love for you to come with him, but given your aversion to how rowdy such places can get sometimes he absolutely understands. He tends to bring back things for you on the days you can’t come - treats from friends like Bex’s signature cookies are a personal favorite to bring home to you.

An overbearing partner is the last thing you have to worry about with Dammon - he is quite content to simply be in the same space as you. Though given his affectionate nature you’ll usually find his hand or tail loosely touching some part of you as he’s an absolute sucker for that casual intimacy. Gift giving as a love language is something that the two of you share so be prepared for the sweetest back and forth gift giving at every single chance that he gets. Dammon tends to stick with small, sentimental gifts that will provide you a practical use and also stand the test of time. He’ll often spend way too long pouring over the finer details of each and every gift though - a little perfectionist at heart for gifts for his loved ones.

[voraciousvore]

What are the ages of your characters in your stories? (Pls include When characters meet/time skips.)

(I’ve read: the giant and the princess, the giant, (part of) the half-blood giant, boarding school, belly of the giant.)

In the giant world, the giants can live for hundreds of years, does this also apply for the human/giant world?

I’m most concerned that Chester/Joey/Milton are going to outlive thier respective partners 🥲😭😭

Thanks for answering! ❤️

I'll do my best to answer but if I forget any important characters let me know lol:

Ajax is 18 when he meets Iris, who is about the same age. This story begins a loooooong time ago, in medieval times, so by the time he meets Jackie in the modern day he's very old, like 800 years old.

Chester is around 300 years old when he meets Jackie, who is in her mid-20s. (I have no idea what I was smoking when I wrote this story but it's too late to retcon the lore 😭 just roll with it I guess. I mostly made it this way to fit the timeline of Ajax's story and the lore of the giant/ human war back in medieval times). Jasper is a little younger than Chester but close to the same age. Jacques (the evil blond giant who wasn't explicitly named in the first story) is 350.

In Boarding School, Joey and Eren are in the same grade level when they meet, so they are both 16. Trent is the same age too. In Belly, there is a time skip so they are all young adults, early 20s. Millie is mid-30s and Milton is in his late 30s/ early 40s (the latter when he meets Millie). Ray is older than Joey, early 30s. Dr. Rajak and his giantess wife are around the same age, probably late 30s.

Half-Blood Giant takes place over a long span of time, but Hunter is 17 when he finally goes to school, same age as Hector and Hannah. There isn't a big time skip for the characters from Belly so they remain about the same ages. Pedro is 26.

Now, to answer the second part of the question: the giants from Chester/Ajax's world are a different species of giant, and are more analogous to traditional fairy tale giants with their long lifespans and physical characteristics (such as their sense of smell and their irresistible cravings to eat humans). They age much like humans until they become adults at 18, and then the aging process is much slower, until they reach the end of their natural lifespans. They can live upwards of 1000 years.

The giants from the human/giant world of Joey/ Eren/ etc. are more like humans in lifespan. They live the same amount of time and age the same way. So Joey and Milton will live the same lifespan as their partners, but assuming nothing happens Chester is doomed to outlive Jackie, a fact he is painfully aware of, but he loves her too much to give her up 🥲 He knows their relationship is "unnatural" in more ways than one, since she is his natural prey, but he doesn't care. Love conquers all.

Thanks for the ask! ❤️ Don't be shy about asking questions, I love to talk about my stories/ characters!

[doublegoblin]

Author Ask Tag Game

Well this is a biggin! Thanks for the TAG @gummybugg

I send an invite to @asterhaze (Lol I know gummy tagged ya but nyeh) @angie-j-kay @tailoroffates @tisiphonewolfe @lola-theshowgrl @conkers-theficwriter (that's right I got you and your alt, talk about that fanfic!) @stanrendipity @randomstupidchaos @catchingbigfish

I'll be centering my attention on Rituals and Red Tape because I am nothing if not self-indulgent of my baby.

(1) What is the main lesson of your story (e.g. kindness, diversity, anti-war), and why did you choose it?

Your adversities are with you but do not have to define you Bodies are meant to be used as an expression of ones self Corporations are eldritch entities who no matter how much love they shove up your ass will replace you in a heart beat There are no true transitory spaces with which your actions can be left behind, what you may see as a place to visit is someone else's home. Angry Nihilism is the easiest and most childest response to discovering you are not the main character of a story. and Let others be content in their life, not everyone wants to be out there making a name for themselves.

Why did I choose these? To be completely honest I didn't set out with them in mind. These are what has sprung up as I delved into writing more and more and was finding some elements that were hidden from me while I fiddled with the keys. These are as much lessons for an audience as they are for myself.

(2) What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding (like real-life cultures, animals, famous media, websites, etc.)?

So I know the stigma that was (maybe still is) attached to this statement but it comes from my dreams. Wait wait wait let me explain! So for a while I have had (although I haven't for a little bit) an ongoing sort of continuous dream. Not like the same dream over and over but more these dreams take place in the same location and I am always in this same role. I would give my partner "lore updates" every so often because it was something fun. Well on a long car ride (3hr) we spent the time chit chatting and I realized I wanted to make a story out of this. So during the same car ride the basic skeleton of the story started to emerge. Then wham bam thank ya mam fast forward and here we are. A lot of the world building also just kinda spring from my own imagination. Like I'm sure I maybe got the pieces from soooomewhere but can't tell ya, unless they are an obvious reference to something like the Giants on The Farm being "as tall as windmill" being a reference to Don Quixote, just small little nuggets here and there.

(3) What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, help readers grow as a person?

Alex is honestly just trying to get through each assignment with all their limbs still on their body and as little paperwork to do as possible. They just want to have a nice easy life that is comfortably mundane. What I want to do is entertain first and foremost. Like sure my stuff can have lessons and morals and whattheshit but if it isn't entertaining to at least one person I feel I have failed. And also, maybe help someone who needs to work through some stuff do so through Alex or anyone else in the book. I can't say for certain that can or will happen but there is always a chance.

(4) How many chapters is your story going to have?

No idea, as many as it needs to be told in full. I'll know when we get there lol.

(5) Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Teehee time to self promote! This is original content. And I post the first draft chapters on here but I post the more edited and more concrete chapters on my WattPad MaxwellAlabaster I try and have the stuff on here accessible through their own dedicated pages on my blog and up to date.

(6) When and why did you start writing?

I started to write this story about a year ago. It started as a writing only for me kind of thing as I was dealing with some life stuff. But, once I started to write and post my stuff on here I really fell in love with the hobby and putting my things out there for people to hopefully enjoy!

(7) Do you have any words of engagement for fellow writers of Writeblr? What other writers of Tumblr do you follow?

Despite my verboseness I can be quite shy and anxious. So i tend to follow people who follow me first lol. It's not out of a self inflated ego but an uneasy feeling. So far it's worked out well and I've really enjoyed the people I have interacted with! Even if it's just getting little hearts here and there.

Something I adopted early and fully: Write for yourself (but we've all heard that before!) Fine! Write slop. Like just absolute pig pleasing slop. Not everything needs to be the next big seller, the most enjoyable, or "good" piece of literature. Write what makes you happy and what you have fun writing. Go outside your comfort zone and make an absolute mess of it all. You don't have to post everything after all. This is advice for even those of you that rely on writing for an income. When you can, just write the hottest and most fun garbage that you want. It's really refreshing to just go hog wild and look at the word doc or whatever and go "Wow...this is horrible, I love it".

Also don't let people tell you there is only one way to write. Like yeah grammar and stuff is good for being comprehensible, but there is power in each punctuation you use;or leave out~ Get flowery with your language too sometime Steve doesn't cheer; sometimes his voice carries so high the birds grow jealous.

Lastly: you don't need an english degree or whatever to be a writer, look at me, I have a freakin science degree. Did you put words on a page to convey a meaning of feeling? You are a writer. Don't let others take that away from you. You are a writer because you write dam it.

[focuriousity25-blog]

Will literally pay to roleplay with someone who can do a decent Kirk Langstrom impression (Status: OPEN)

A little over a year ago I made a post advertising I was looking for a roleplay partner who could do an impression of the Trollhunters character Draal the Deadly, and said partner would receive $50, as a sort of thank you reward for the time and effort they’d dedicate to indulging all the storylines and little ideas rattling around in head lol xP

Since it worked out pretty well, I’ve decided to give it another go with a different character 🙂

This time I'm looking to roleplay with someone who can do an impression of the DC Comics character, Professor Kirk Langstrom, aka the Man-Bat. Specifically, a redeemed version akin to the Earth Prime variation who would later go on to join the Justice League Dark, who makes his latest appearance to date (to the best of my knowledge) in Batman and Robin 2023.

Just like last time, the volunteer will receive $25 immediately and $25 upon the initial roleplay’s completion. For your convenience, please allow me to once again up-front clarify these important points: 

* This is NOT an NSFW or romance/shipping-based in general type of roleplay; that isn’t really my style. I'm more the action-adventure with a dash of mystery and character-development kind of guy.

* While I do have a general plot in mind, it is completely subject to change depending on what the volunteer is comfortable with; in other words, I'm willing to work with you to take into account how you usually prefer to pace things or if you have your own headcanon details you'd like to include to make this an enjoyable experience to both participants.

* If worried about literation, well, not to brag, but I think you'll find I've got eight years worth of roleplay and storytelling experience, and my narrative abilities are second to none ^^

* I’ll reserve the right to cancel the roleplay and keep the remaining half of the money if I'm kept waiting for more than two weeks during RP turns/responses. I understand if you're busy or have other stuff going on, but please understand in turn that if you make me wait for days, days and more days on end just to get like a sentence…well, that’s just not very considerate  :l

* I usually use Discord to RP, as I find it to be a quick and efficient means of communication while also having the perfect conditions for roleplaying when considering you can create organized servers and channels. However, if the volunteer is more comfortable using a different format I'll adapt accordingly :)

* I generally use PayPal, but if the volunteer uses a different payment method, that’s fine, all I humbly ask is that you walk me through how it works if I’m unfamiliar with it.

* Upon contact and if you do wish to roleplay, I’ll give you one or two questions, mainly, a prompt I’ll ask you to respond to; this will just be a little practice scenario that will allow you to showcase your impression of what you would do in said-scenario as Langstrom. This will demonstrate to me that you understand the character and aren’t just rushing into this for the $50 without even having seen the shows or comics he appears in. 

Like before, if you’re interested in taking this offer, or, if you just have questions, feel free to contact me directly here on Tumblr or send me a message to my Discord ID, “gallifrey22”. If I do get a volunteer I’ll edit this post (marking it as “CLOSED”) to signify the position’s been filled. 

Once again, thank you so much for your time, hope you’re having a fantastic holiday season ^^

~HSeeker

P.S. To those wondering, this doesn’t mean I have shifted my focus from Tales of Arcadia to DC (in fact, expect the next ‘I Remember’ comic relatively soon ;) ), this is just a fun little thing on the side while future TOA content is still cooking in the metaphorical oven of imagination lol xP

[blurglesmurfklaine]

for the fic writer asks 💘🌈🌿

HI MILI!!

💘Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write?

Oh god, like. all of them?? well. maybe not ALL of them lmao but definitely some earlier ones. I think There From the Start for sure, if it wasn't so fucking long I would just. re-do it all lol

it always shocks me how much people seem to enjoy that one but I'm glad it brings people happiness! I just wish it were a bit cleaner!

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

Here We Go Again. Sequel to the above mentioned fic--only because I had been toying with the idea of that sequel since I was 15 and didn't start on it until i was 22. So I had to grapple with the fact that a lot of my ideas from seven years prior just didn't FIT anymore

(Mild Spoilers ahead if anyone plans on reading it lmao) so their breakup almost didn't happen because I felt it wasn't quite nuanced enough, but Adri was like "listen, i'd rather they not breakup but here's how we can add some depth" and it took a lot of going back and adding shit like Blaine's guilt over the Karofsky situation--which in turn opened the door for exploration about Blaine's mental health which I did not plan on ten years ago but booooooy did I love!

There was also almost no Christmas "episode" bc i straight up had no idea what to do with it, but again, my dearest partner in crime (be gay do crimes) helped me with that

The last thing that was difficult for me to write was actually the ending. So the fic was supposed to end with Blaine forgiving his father and Blaine and Kurt being invited to and attending his wedding. (Keep in mind I was 15 when I planned this lmaooo) this was something I didn't quite have an epiphany about UNTIL I started writing HWGA because the idea of not HAVING to accept apologies is always easier said than done

but my biological father is/was a lot like Blaine's in this verse and when I started actually writing this story, instead of just having the ideas around in my head for years, I got to thinking like. No. Actually I am NOT the one who did wrong in this situation and I am NOT obligated to accept any olive branch you extend bc you feel bad for fucking up 18 years ago. so when I started outlining it--It actually felt wrong for me to force Blaine to forgive his dad. because if someone told me to forgive mine i'd probably throw hands lmao skcjdlcjdsd

So yeah, I think that's a big reason why I love this story--it just took me to a bunch of unexpected places in so many ways even though it took sooooo much workshopping a lot of the time lmao sorry for the whole ass novel

🌿how does creating make you feel?

ALL THE WAYS! Sometimes frustrated at not being able to convey what i want to come across, but most of the time I'm just like "Damn... MY dumbass wrote that???? ten points to ravenclaw ig"

Really though, it does fill me with a sort of wonder for the human race in the ways we can like. build something out of nothing??? like these were THOUGHTS in my BRAIN and now they are on a PAGE on the INTERNET where other real life PEOPLE can read it and give me virtual little hi-fives and say "thanks for making this!" like???????? INSANE ACTUALLY

These were so much fun! Thanks a lot for the ask :) <33

Fic Writers Asks!

[hwaslayer]

Okay Ms. Nikki I don't have anyone else to ask so I'm asking you for your opinion. One of my guy friends got married a couple weeks back. We're really close and he's been flirtatious with me in the past even as recent as a few months ago even tho he's been dating his now wife the entire time I've known him so I always took it as being friendly affectionate/joking. But then at his wedding I went into the room where the bar was and he was there with one of our other friends and when he saw me he held his hand out so I took it and he didn't let go and then kissed my knuckles??? Which feels like something you should not do at your own wedding to someone who isn't your wife. But idk if it means anything??? I don't even know what to expect when I'm around him anymore

hi love! first of all - thanks for coming to me about it! i hope i can shed some light than can be useful/helpful to you. 🥺

in my *personal* opinion, i believe there should always be boundaries despite the close friendship you’ve shared over the years. and don’t feel like you did anything wrong (or are doing anything wrong) because i don’t think you are; it’s hard to understand actions and human behavior as a whole lol i think your friend should’ve dialed it down esp since he has been dating this person and is NOW married to them. i agree, that’s not something he should be doing at his wedding at all, even if he claims it doesn’t mean anything or is harmless. he prob should’ve backed it up with the affection/flirting when he started getting serious with his partner. actions itself can speak a little louder than words & most of us do take that to heart. i can’t speak for him - only he knows what the true intentions are or what he’s thinking when he does things like that. but i think out of respect to both you and his wifey, he should learn how to dial it back with the affection and flirty-ness, and i think there are ways to continue being close and keeping a good relationship without having it cross into things like this/blurring the lines. if the behavior continues, i’d say it’s good to talk to him or remind him that he’s your close friend and you’ll always respect him as is but you definitely don’t want to give anyone (esp wife) the wrong idea. again, it’s sooo hard to tell with these things! but i think its always good to be honest (despite not understanding his true intentions) and to give people friendly reminders that those boundaries shouldn’t be crossed out of respect for everyone involved (and esp for you, your peace cause i’m sure its also confusing and might make you feel uncomfortable in certain ways). he may just be really comfortable with you, which is great. it’s good to have ppl like that in your circle! but i think he can be fully capable of being comfortable with you without having to express it through actions like that. & i know you’ve been close, but if you feel like you need to distance yourself a bit, then that’s okay too! you can always support from afar if you need to, it doesn’t necessarily mean there’s any weird or bad blood going on. there’s people we come across in life that are meant to be supported from a distance, not at a close range. that’s ok! throughout all of this, if he is your close friend, he should understand and hear you out.

ofc i’m speaking from my own opinion cause i only know the very surface level of this but i hope this helps! you can always message me too if you wanna talk / vent a little more about it <33

[yourstrqly]

✰ HELPING HANDS, LANDOSCAR

in which fem!reader is helping out oscar's puppy love on his teammate lando without realising the consequences

tw: landoscar is real, swear words, sex hinted, time jump 🗝 . . previous part & next part

two idiots and their saving grace

you

i see you got on very well last night. i'd appreciate a word put in for a promotion or a trip to somewhere warm with beaches, hot men, yadayada you get me

havent expected you be such a dirty man lan, but then oscari has probably ruined your dick by the looks lol

lan

girl, he destroyed me, he's made to be a lover, lemme tell you that. took me like a champ

you shallowed too?

lan every last drop, took my breath away and sucked me dry

anyways, thank you for this little one, we definitely own you a thing or two 🤍

oscari

yup 100%, believe we'd dance around each other for months if it was for you cupid.

enjoyed the video?

you wasnt bad to look at, bit shaky but oscari those hands work fast wowsa. you'll take good care of the man just don't fuck when we work, yes? then i might leave you for another team

"i bet little y/n took care of her sweet pussy, look when she saw the video and when she replied", lando giggled as he shoved down a bite of the fruit salad he shared with his lover in bed, smartphone laying on oscar's lap.

they had enjoyed soft kisses and equally soft sex under the white coversheet, taking in a memorable place in their love filled hearts — for some their thing, whatever they should name it, might be running fast but then they waited patiently for a year to realise their feelings and now there was no coming back, just straight up truth, desire and love, because this was love, pure and soft, fast yet romantic. they were two peas in a pot but they also noticed their lust for oscar's girl for everything, you.

you weren't just a woman with a hot, curvy body, no, you had the personality too, bold and headstrong, taking no fucks — neither oscar nor lando knew how they wanted you in this but to a threesome, they wouldn't say no.

"maybe but let's focus on us this month before adding sweets to the mix in any kind of form yeah?", the younger man said, hand grasping lan's to press a kiss on it.

his partner hummed in agreement, happily munching on the breakfast as they exchanged ideas for possible date ideas; paddle, golf as well as pottery, trying every local cuisine once ( we'll just leave the fish alone, right, babe?") and whatnot — typical things couples tried to depend the bond and enjoy their partners company. you'd for sure cover for them somehow to let it look like they're only teammates, having a good time being single.

and so the mclaren men went on all kinds of dates, some great, a few alright and two of them weren't very much enjoyable (the aussie rated the gold date as the most boring thing he had to do but because he liked lan alot, he'd come back whenever the older one would win above him in a race).

you were their saving grace, saving them from noisy reporters and brewing scandals with some greedy models and who not, giving them an ultimate hiding place for their blossoming romance. to add a cherry on top, you suggested more date ideas for their second and third month, putting a professional love doc to shame. where you got the ideas from was more or less a mystery to them but other couples on the grid like alex and lily, george and carmen, and kika and pierre rated your skills to heaven. it was a skill set of yours, the only thing no one got behind is, how you didn't have a partner by yourside, though no one wanted to get on your bad side and kept their mouth shut; you liked to say that your love life was dead and that's it.

"how are my birdies doing this fine morning? ready to talk some racing?", you entered the room and began to talk, lips coloured in a bright red, complimenting your all black fit and red-orange necklace, oscar had gotten you from when you both started to work at mclaren over a year ago. oscar returned to his position next to lando on the bed, leaving you to stand in front of them, cheeking your nails before continuing. "remember to shut down the rumours with that instagram model, lando, and oscari, for you I have nothing on my agenda. you're just too wholesome to people, so they dont wanna ruin your imagine it seems."

lando moaned, face in his hands, letting his boyfriend kiss his neck. "i don't do anything but be a doting boyfriend, little y/n. i don't even know who that woman is." "I know, i know, just say something along the line of who? or talk about not knowing why those silly bitches get connected to you. state your truth, honey. and now get decent, it reeks of steamy sex in here."

"yes ma'am", you heard. "are you coming on track with us or driving separately?", your friend wanted to know, as he put on a maroon silky shirt lando had gifted him on their stay in the latter ones flat. shame, the aussie hid his muscles behind the shirt tho but he didn't close all the buttons and left his collarbone for show, were a dainty golden necklace rested, a promise ring of sorts that mclaren number four also wore in form of an actual ring, blending in quite nicely with his collection of jewelry. that's taste.

"i'm driving with you, i'll sit in back, if thats okay with you, boys?"

they didn't reply, packing up their stuff and gently pushed you out off the door, osc's hand resting heavily against the small of your back.

hopefully I don't blush like virgin Mary, you thought.

they guided you to the car, a beautiful mclaren in a sleek navy blue. lando opened the door for you and waited until you settled to shut it again, walking around the car to drive it as oscar had decided on being the passenger prince for the day (he was also very sleeping looking and had the desire to control the music today). "have you eaten something or should we grab you a bite on the way, sweets?"

a moan left your painted lips, now being able what you forgot this morning when you rushed through your hotel room. fluttering with your lashes, a cute smile danced on your lips. "some food would be fantastic, thanks for the reminder, daddy." you then proceed to chance your attention to your vibrating phone, seeing a couple of messages of people trying to get hold on osc, who, if you looked up into the mirror, blushed hard at the nickname.

"oi where's my sexy nickname, little one? you just can't call him daddy in front of me, the boyfriend of months and don't gift me one too, you hear me?", lando pouted, resting his right hand behind oscars head rest when parking the car in front of a small café. "Don't have one for you, it seems", you grinned like a cashire cat and closed the door to get yourself a snack.

oscar broke the comfortable silence between them, laughter bubbling over the music. "she could call you sir too, treasure. i know you like it. imagine her on her knees, waiting for our command — she'd look so good taking you, us."

"you shit, want me to hide a bulge?", the other male whinned, hand joining his lover's in the middle console of the car.

"don't act like a cry baby, it doesn't suit you."

POLY/MULTI DRIVERS — SINGULAR DRIVERS

wanna be tagged in the next part of helping hand? comment below :)

🗝 . . . tag list [open] — @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @vellicora @jupiter-je-taime @denisebeee @jaehyunluvcult @chezmardybum @koalalafications @thebook-bitch @ln4norizz @entr4p3 @67-angelofthelordme-67