#to be clear i mean old daniel
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writeitinsharpie · 6 months ago
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louis and daniel would be the healthiest relationship in this show and that's why it won't happen
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corkinavoid · 2 months ago
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DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids (pt.2)
[<- part 1]
"Oh, yeah," John jerks his head up like he just remembered the fact people are supposed to have names at all. He gestures to the kids, pointing to each of them as he introduces, "Daniel, Daniel, and Danielle."
This time, all three kids flip him off simultaneously. Bruce clears his throat, trying to figure out if Constantine is messing with him and, if so, in which parts. Since, so far, everything the man has said sounds like a poor attempt at pulling his leg.
"I don't think they like those," he cautiously says, and the kids whip their heads at him, nodding furiously. Bruce can't help but be just a little enamored with the way they behave.
"Of, sod off, at this point I don't care what they like," John straightens up with a dismissive, albeit weak, wave of his hands, and rubs his face, "They are menaces. Sometimes by accident, but mostly on purpose. Their grandfather thought it would be easier to handle them if they were not teenagers, and while I agreed with his reasoning at the time, I-" he glances at the kids, who all have displeased grimaces of various levels on their faces, "I have been made to reconsider. I swear that ancient bitch is laughing his ass off wherever he is now."
The kids suddenly grin. They are not very friendly, nor polite smiles - if anything, they look a bit nightmarish. An old grandfather's clock in his study makes a very loud ticking noise.
"See?" John whips his head to look at said clock, the expression on his face bordering on insane. His eye twitches.
If Bruce doesn't do anything now, he might become one of the very few people who managed to witness John Constantine, the Laughing Magician, have a meltdown. So he sighs and decides to solve the problems one at a time.
Which means that no matter how alarmed or suspicious he is, his first move would not be to interrogate either the man or the kids.
"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, I trust you can find it on your own," he tells John, almost softly, as he catches the girl from slipping away from his lap, "Is there anything I need to know about children before you fall unconscious?"
John slumps with relief, so obviously that Bruce almost smiles. Hardships of raising - or, watching, for that matter - kids, he understands.
"Yes," he breathes out with an air of exhilaration and turns to the kids again, pointing to the middle child, "Danny is the original. He is from this dimension and timeline, that is. Dan," he turns his finger to the older boy, "is in the wrong timeline, he's Danny's future evil self redeemed into older bratty brother. Dani," he switches to the girl, "is Danny's clone, made by his arch-nemesis of a godfather. If she starts melting at any point, wake me up immediately. If any of them start floating, sprouting tentacles, speaking to walls in static, or glowing, don't."
Bruce looks down to the kids. So, definitely metas, that would explain the government trying to get them... Or, no, it wouldn't because he is fairly certain no government is going to blatantly ignore the Meta Protection Acts.
"Don't let them raise the dead, and if you give them food, make sure it doesn't have a face. If you find more than three of them, it means one of them has duplicated, don't worry, they will absorb it back later. Absolutely don't let them touch any guns," Constantine is backing down to the door as he speaks, his gaze flickering from the kids to Bruce and back every second. Like he is leaving a ticking bomb in Bruce's lap, and not three children. "Danny is, comparatively, the most responsible one, the other two are up for any dubious trouble they can get to at any moment. Oh, and their memories are wonky because of de-aging, they remember some things but not others, so if they say something particularly disturbing, it's most likely some random piece of knowledge they managed to keep."
Bruce raises an eyebrow. He did get the part about the kids being, well, abnormal in the matters of their origins, but the disjointed set of rules and advices doesn't help as much as Constantine probably thinks it does.
"Allergies, preferences, ages they were before?" He tries to get at least some more info down before John disappears through the door. Actually, maybe he should send someone to handcuff the man to the bed lest he disappears completely.
"None, but don't let them eat cutlery. Danny likes space, Dani has a thing for exploring, and Dan likes violence." The older kid stirs in Bruce's lap and says something in the direction of Constantine. No sound comes out, but the man seems to get what he's trying to say anyway, "Okay, yes, that was rude of me, sorry. Dan likes... exercise," he ends up with, and that placate the boy enough to slump down and cross his arms. John sighs, "They were seventeen, fourteen, and twenty respectively. Now," he snaps his fingers, and suddenly Bruce can hear the girl - Dani - humming a tune under her breath. So, he lifted the silence spell, it seems.
"Good fucking luck," John wishes to Bruce, earnestly, and all but vanishes away.
Bruce sighs and looks down to the kids.
"Are you hungry?" He tries, and all eyes are on him at once, attentive and unblinking.
"Fruitloops," Danny says, and while Bruce is positive that's the name for a cereal, he gets a feeling that's not what the kid meant.
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kumkaniudaku · 2 months ago
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Stay A While
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Summary: Terry's back home and trying to make amends with an old friend.
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC
Word Count: 3,944
Part: 1 of ??
Warnings and Notes: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.
Drunk minds speak sober thoughts. Or at least Terry hoped that was the case as his thumb hovered over a familiar name in his contact list. A dingey hole in the wall became a haven on the tail end of his journey back to some sense of normalcy. He was down a bike, a truck, and a piece of his heart but continued to press on until fatigue forced him to stop for rest. The owner, a small woman with a big voice noticed his rough appearance as he passed by on foot and invited him inside to duck an incoming storm. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, even when he repeated that he had ground to make up before nightfall.
When she asked if he needed help he politely and foolishly declined all but a glass of brown liquor and access to an outlet. That same whiskey and a sprinkle of Motown-era love songs playing on a rickety jukebox had broken a grown man down enough to reach out to the one person who might still be willing to take him in. Even if only for a night.
Searching for extra courage, Terry took another sip of lukewarm Jack Daniels before tapping his phone screen. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before a short pause signaled the call had connected. 
The silence on the other him was loud, forcing him to speak up first. 
“Hello?”
Fading voices and shuffling in the background were the only indicators of a presence on the other line, making Terry feel embarrassed for starting a call in the first place. 
He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Hey, look… if now’s not a good time I ca -” 
“Terrence? Did you mean to call me?” 
“I, uh…yeah. I did. I’m sorry. I should’ve -” 
“Are you okay? It’s loud wherever you are. You good? You hurt?” 
“I could tell you if you would give me a chance to answer,” he chuckled. His amusement made her kiss her teeth in annoyance. “I’m okay. I’m a little banged up, but I’ve seen worse. I’m somewhere between Charlotte and home. Stopped in this spot for a drink and somewhere to sleep for the night.” 
“And what does that have to do with me?” 
Terry took another swig of whiskey and sighed. “Nothing, really. I was hoping I could see you, though. You know, when I make it back tomorrow.”
“You staying anywhere when you get here?” 
“Not yet, but I’ll find somewhere. I know how to survive.”
“TJ…,” More silence. Thick. Long. Full of tension and years of baggage that they had yet to discuss. The other voice sighed before answering. “Come on by. I’ll have the back room ready for you. You need toiletries?” 
Terry’s face softened into a near smile at the invitation. “Yes ma’am. A meal would be nice, too.” 
“Okay. I’ll have you something if you can get here before dark tomorrow. Please be safe, Terrence. I mean it.” 
Before he could attempt to extend the conversation, the call ended, leaving her contact photo in full view. Terry allowed a slow grin to spread across his face just as a short text with her address came across the screen. 
“Another round, brother?” 
Terry looked up from his phone to find an expectant expression on the bartender’s face. He shook his head and reached for the wallet in his back pocket. “Nah, but thanks, man. Think I’m gonna close my tab, actually. I gotta see about a bus ticket before it’s too late.” 
“If you heading to her,” the man started, pointing toward Terry’s phone. “you need a cut, man. A lineup. Something. You look like what you been through. If you got $20, I can get you right.” A slight frown and knitted eyebrows in response made the bartender shoot his hands up in surrender. “I don’t want no problems, big dog. I just know what it’s like to see your lady after a hard time. Let me help you.” 
A quick look into the black mirror of his cell phone screen forced Terry to reckon with his appearance. He couldn’t remember his last haircut and his mustache was starting to dwarf his upper lip. He sighed and reached into his back pocket. 
“Extra $10 and you can get the face too?” 
“Extra $20 and I’ll get you where you going myself.” 
------
City noise had long been replaced by suburban quiet by the time Terry’s destination came into view. His friend back at the bar was true to his word and arranged transport that turned a 6-hour journey into 2 hours of UGK on the speakers, a little privacy, and AC on the hottest summer day so far.  
After exchanging pleasantries and cash, Terry stepped out of the cramped Honda onto the smooth driveway pavement. Every house, street sign, and front yard looked exactly as he remembered them, bringing mixed emotions forward.
The short journey to her front step felt arduous for his tired legs, but he persisted until he was mere inches from the front door. He lifted his arms and prepared to knock but stopped short when it swung open unexpectedly. 
“Knocking when I can hear those heavy feet from a mile away is courteous but unnecessary.” 
He chuckled and rubbed a hand down the back of his head. “Good to see you too, Treece.” 
Patrice greeted him with a half smile as she studied his appearance from toe to head. A few years and a little extra weight had done wonders. She settled on his eyes and softened her gaze. “You look good, TJ. Come in here and cool off.”
Stepping inside her home felt like walking into a time capsule. He’d spent so many after-school days and summer nights here that it felt like his childhood home not too far up the road. Photos from yesteryear lined the walls on the way to the living room where nothing had changed except new furniture and a bigger television on the TV stand. The heat from the oven mixing with a slight chill from the air conditioning unit kept the room comfortable enough to nap if he could settle for more than a few minutes. 
Terry’s eyes drifted from his surroundings to Patrice as she led the way. Long braids covered the back of a high school t-shirt and jean shorts. Her brown skin had become golden under the North Carolina sun, making her glow a little in the morning light. Grown woman weight had settled onto her once thin frame, transforming her into a more of a mini version of her mother than before. All the changes he’d imagined when he had a free second were ions better in person.
Patrice gestured toward the leather recliner in the corner without speaking, inviting him to take a seat and settle in on her way to the stove.
They existed without words for a few minutes while she took fresh biscuits out of the oven and arranged them next to sausage patties and an omelet on one of her good porcelain plates. Terry trained his attention on his shoes, trying and failing to find a way to break the ice. He wanted to apologize. Confess his wrongs and desires in one grand speech designed to erase nearly ten years of absence. But the words wouldn’t form in his throat and the moment came and went. 
Balancing a dinner tray in one hand and orange juice in the other, Patrice carefully made her way to his spot in the living room. Seeing her kind eyes calmed his nerves and set his chest ablaze.
“No more pork for you, right? This is chicken sausage from my Nana and them in the country.” She asked as she sat the tray on his lap. 
He nodded in appreciation. “Yeah. You remembered?” 
“You ain’t been gone that long, TJ. I still know who you are and what you like. That orange juice don’t have pulp in it either.” 
“Thank you,” he said sheepishly before hanging his head to pray. 
“Any time.” 
A re-run of A Different World became the only sound in the room outside of an occasional content sigh from Terry as he tore through his breakfast. Patrice watched in amusement until her broad smile caught his attention. He slowed in embarrassment and returned the stare long enough to induce loud laughter from both of them. 
“I look crazy, huh?” 
“No,” she assured with a sweet smile. “You just look like you're happy to be back home, is all. Fayetteville missed you.” 
“All of Fayetteville or someone specific?” 
“Don’t start, TJ.” 
“I’m only asking a question.” He answered without making eye contact. “You know you’re the only one who still calls me that?” 
“What? TJ? That’s your name.” 
“Yeah, but…you know. It’s not 2010 anymore.” 
Patrice shrugged and settled deeper into the couch. “Considering that’s about the last time I saw you in the flesh, I guess it stuck for me. But, I can call you Terrence if you like.” 
“Nah, TJ’s good. I like it. From you…specifically.” 
The pair exchanged equally bashful looks, both too shy to say anything that would incriminate themselves. Instead, they watched the television in silence and stole looks until a commercial break took away their distraction. 
Without speaking, Terry began to gather dishes and stand, prompting Patrice to rush over before he could move too far. 
“Treece, I can do it.” 
“I know,” she answered in a sing-song voice while sliding the tray from his grasp. “But I haven’t done this for you in a while. Let me love on you a little bit.”
His eyes tracked her every move until she was behind him at the kitchen sink. Boyish nervousness made him twiddle his thumbs until words came rushing out like water from a burst pipe as he sat back down.
“So, how you doing? How you been?” 
“I’ve been okay. Mostly work and no play, you know. Thankful to be out of that classroom for a few weeks and get some peace.” 
“Yeah? Kids driving you crazy?” 
“Baby, the kids, their parents, and my parents are driving me to drink,” she laughed. “I can’t catch a break.” 
“What about your man? He driving you crazy?” 
Patrice scoffed and shook her head. Her mama and his mama talked too much. Terry chewed his bottom lip, hoping he didn’t offend. 
“We…aren’t together anymore. Hard to build a family together when he’s off building one across town.” 
Terry craned his neck around the armchair to make sympathetic eye contact. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that part. I wouldn’t have said anything.” 
“It’s alright. I gave it to God a long time ago. Maybe I’m not meant to be anybody’s wife yet.”
“Maybe you weren’t meant to be his wife.” 
“Well, it’s not like any suitors are knocking down my door for my hand in marriage.” 
“Probably because you keep swinging it open before anybody gets a chance.” 
Patrice rolled her eyes and flashed her middle finger in Terry’s direction. “Ha-ha. I see you didn’t lose your jokes at Lejeune. Only your ability to keep in touch.” 
Her retort left a shallow cut in Terry’s ego, making him turn his attention back to the television. He knew he’d broken a decades-old promise and that atoning for his sins would take time. But he also knew that, at any moment, Patrice could send him back into the world with nothing more than a full belly and a swift kick in the ass. He had to tread lightly. 
Taking the lull in conversation as his opportunity to lick his wounds in private, Terry stood and gathered his belongings in both hands. Patrice watched him from her spot with an apologetic expression. 
“You don’t have to leave. Got a couple errands to run so it’ll be quiet in here. Take the whole couch if you want.” 
“That’s alright, but thank you. Figure I can make myself useful and cut the yard. Maybe unpack some of this stuff if that’s alright with you. You got a mower?” 
“Yeah, it’s back there,” she answered, gesturing toward the backyard with her head. “Will you be here when I get back?” 
Sensing the hidden motivation behind her question, Terry dropped his bag to the ground and made his way into the kitchen. Cautiously, he leaned down to press a short kiss to Patrice’s forehead before using his index finger to tilt her head upward and meet his eyeline. “Yes. I promise. You don’t need to worry about me.” 
Her eyes fluttered closed for a half second while she nodded her understanding. A wave of relief made the hair on her arms stand at attention but she quickly bit back any urge to engage further. 
“You looked tired when you got in,” Patrice started, turning her back to Terry to conceal her flustered face. “I cleared Junior’s old bed back there. It’s a little small but sturdy. The sheets are fresh. Let me know if you need more blankets. I like it cold at night.” 
“I’ll survive, girl. I’ve slept in worse places than a full-sized bed. Thank you.” 
A split second of hesitation kept their eyes glued to one another until Terry ended the stalemate by backing out of the room and disappearing down the hallway. 
Patrice took his absence as an opportunity to compose herself. Busy hands and racing thoughts fueled a cleaning marathon until tasks that had long fallen to the bottom of her to-do list were crossed off. 
For hours they co-existed without many words exchanged. Occasionally, Patrice would steal glances at Terry while he meticulously tended to the lawn and bushes. When he could, Terry made a point to brush up against her when he walked past and agree with each of her many suggestions. Being in her space was enough for him and he dared not upset the natural harmony. 
By the time dinner rolled around, they had found a groove. A quiet dinner led to an even quieter cleanup shift and quick good nights exchanged after watching Jeopardy together. 
Terry left Patrice to her own devices while he fought to acclimate to such cushy surroundings. Try as he might, he couldn’t get used to the soft mattress below him or the near-frigid temperature in the house. Tossing and turning left him unsatisfied. The walls felt like they were converging. Flashbacks were turning into night sweats. He needed to escape.
Slowly, he slid out of bed and into a pair of slippers Patrice had gifted him earlier in the day. Measured steps help him sneak past her bed bedroom, out of the back door, and down into the backyard without causing a disturbance. 
The early June air was balmy, clinging to the skin beneath his t-shirt. In the distance loud bass from someone’s car speaker vibrated until it was out of earshot. Dogs barked and howled to salute the moon worked in tandem with the faint smell of charcoal cooling from a night of backyard barbecues to remind him that he was far from the trouble of Shelby Springs. 
It’d been a while since he could enjoy the night without being on high alert. The last week was a special kind of hell that he feared he could never shake. The urge to flee was beginning to creep in like the tide, threatening to wash away what little progress he’d made.
After a few deep breaths and mumbled prayer, Terry retreated to a porch swing to rest his weary legs. His shoulders relaxed as soon as his backside met the aged oak and, almost instantly, he felt safe enough to close his eyes. One deep breath turned into another until he was drifting into his first peaceful sleep in weeks. 
Minutes passed like seconds. Thoughts slowed to a halt. His heartbeat regulated. Near bliss was upon him.
Inside, a single lamp flipped on to illuminate Patrice’s path as she searched the house for her guest. His room and bathroom had turned up empty results with almost no sign that he’d been there throughout the day. He wasn’t on the couch or in the kitchen raiding the fridge like she half expected. Worry had all but made her pass out until she heard the slight creak of her swing on the porch, making his head appear and disappear from the window above the sink.
She couldn’t fully open the door before Terry opened one eye and looked in her direction. She froze and he smiled.
“Feet not as heavy as you thought, huh?” 
“Yeah, yeah. If I’d known you trade in a bed for this old thing I wouldn’t have wasted my time on laundry.” 
“Hey, I built this old thing, remember?”
Patrice chuckled at the memory and pointed at the metal chain keeping the swing in place. “Damn near lost a finger behind it, too.”
“Would’ve been worth it knowing you were happy.” Patrice nervously shifted her weight from left to right under Terry’s intense gaze while he took his turn to look her over. Finally noticing her awkwardly standing between the screendoor, he motioned to the spot beside him. “Sit with me for a second.”
Patrice visibly wrestled with her decision but ultimately joined him. They maintained a careful distance, being sure to keep their individual limbs from connecting for fear that the mere sensation would set them ablaze. They played a childish game of cat and mouse until Patrice spoke.
“I was rude earlier,” Patrice confessed while fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt. Terry closed his heavy eyes to cure the burning sensation growing by the minute but acknowledged her statement with a confused grunt. She continued. “I never asked how you were doing. The whole thing about my ex sort of brought up old feelings.” 
He frowned, hurt by her revelation. “You know I wasn’t trying to hurt you, right?” 
“You never are. Same ol’ honorable TJ. Terry, I mean.” 
“TJ for you.” 
Again he popped one eye open and paired it with a grin that disamered Patrice and made her giggle like her high school self. The sound had him resolve that he’d spend his whole life making stupid faces if it meant she’d get some joy from them. 
“You ready to tell me everything I missed or are you content with popping up on my porch? And how long do you plan to be here eating all my food, anyway?” 
“I don’t think you wanna hear that,” he answered in an attempt to dodge the loaded question. Patrice persisted. 
“No, I do. I see the tattoos and the fresh haircut. TJ turned into a man while he was gone. At least let me get to know this new person.” 
“I grew up,” he sighed after some time. “Gained some. Lost a lot. Still trying to pick up the pieces.”
“What’d you lose?” 
“Lately? Money. Family. Shit, my mind.” 
“Why?”
“Mike died.” An abrupt interruption of an already complicated conversation brought forth a long pause. He waited for an interjection but found none, prompting him to offer more details. “He was killed. In jail. I tried to get him out and bring him home but I was too late.” Terry answered without making eye contact. Shame wouldn’t allow him to meet her potential judgment.
Patrice mentally cycled through names and faces until she realized the gravity of Terry’s statement. She reached out to breach their unspoken barrier and grabbed his hand which he accepted with no pushback.
“You wanna talk about it?” 
“Not really,” he answered before squeezing her hand and finally returning her eye contact. “I handled everything. It’s over for now. I’m here with you. We can focus on that.” 
“Even though you keep skipping how long you’ll stay.”
Patrice’s warmth was starting to take a backseat to her cold nature. Old wounds had started to re-open and rebuild a wall they both thought they’d successfully hurdled. Despite her attempt to pull her hand out of his grasp, Terry stayed put. He eyed her for a moment, picking up on a thin veil of tears threatening to form at her water line. 
She watched his normally steely blue-gray eyes soften into something that mirrored the softness he carried when they were kids. She couldn’t find the gumption to look away as he brought her knuckles up to his lips for a set of short kisses before looking back up at her. Pleading. Begging for any indication that she had softened her heart toward him. 
“Treecey, I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it. You meant more to me than the way I left and I pray every day for a chance to make it right. We crossed a line that night and I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t handle that like a man should have. I’m sorry until I’m blue in the face.” 
Sincerity was thick in his voice despite his low, even tone. 
Patrice listened without a word. A single tear cascaded down her face despite her valiant attempts to keep her emotions at bay. She swore she’d never cry about Terrence Richmond again. But old habits die hard. 
Terry used his free hand to swipe away that tear and the next one sitting at her lower lash line with the pad of his thumb.
“Say something,” he pleaded. “Anything. Tell me you hate me.” 
“You know I don’t hate you,” she whispered, too choked up to continue without a deep breath. “I…I just feel like you took a piece of me with you, you know? And you never wrote back. You never called. You shut me out like we were never friends. We could’ve gone back to how things were.” 
“I fucked that up.” 
“I’m aware. But that doesn’t mean that I trust you won’t do it again. No matter how much I don’t hate you, I’m not eighteen anymore. My patience is thin. I can’t allow you to turn my world upside down again.” 
“Hand to God I wouldn’t dream of it.” 
“Yeah. I hope so.” Though she whispered, Patrice’s words sliced through Terry like a hot knife through butter. 
He hung his head in defeat as she pulled her hand from his grasp and made quick work of standing from the bench. Her footsteps retreated past him and to the back door until she paused. 
He looked over his shoulder to find her eyes closed and chin pointed to the sky in contemplative silence. This was it. The final blow. 
She took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. “Stay as long as you want. Junior’s living with his girlfriend now, so nobody’s coming to make you leave. Tomorrow, we can go get you some new clothes. I’m tired of looking at those raggedy t-shirts already.” 
Terry took her jab in stride and gave her a half smile as a sign of compliance. “Yes ma’am. Thank you.” 
“Mhm. Lock the door behind you when you come in.” 
“Good night, Treecey.” His farewell came in an annoyingly sweet voice as a last-ditch effort to drag some loving words from her. Patrice stopped and gave him one more once over and a dismissive eye roll.
He waited for the ghost of a smile that disappeared before he could blink. She shook her head and took a step inside the house.
“Shut up, Terry. Go to bed.” 
Terry hid his amusement until she was out of sight, leaving him alone to grin at how even her rebukes felt like love letters. 
“Shut up,” he repeated to himself as he closed his eyes to doze again. “Hm. I’ll take it.” 
TAGS: @planetblaque
Happy to tag whoever is interested.
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writingwithcolor · 11 months ago
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How can non-Jewish writers include Jewish characters in supernatural stories without erasing their religion in the process?
Anonymous asked:
I have a short story planned revolving around the supernatural with a Jewish character named Danielle (who uses they/them pronouns). Danielle will be one of a trio who will be solving the mystery of two brides' deaths on the day of their wedding. My concern with this is the possibility of accidentally invalidating Danielle's religion by focusing on a secular view of the afterlife. At the same time, I don't want to assume that Jewish people can't exist in paranormal stories, nor do I want to use cultural elements that don't belong to me. So, how do I make sure that Danielle is included in the plot without erasing their Jewishness?
Okay so to start with I think we need to ask a question about the premise: what is a secular afterlife? I’m not asking this to nitpick or be petty, but to offer you expanded ways of thinking through this issue and maybe others as well.
A Secular Afterlife
What is a secular afterlife? To begin with, I get what you mean. The idea of an afterlife we see in pop culture entities like ghost media owes more to a mixture of 19th-century spiritualist tropes drawn from titillating gothic novels than to anything preached from the pulpit of an organized house of worship. Yet those tropes--the ominous knocking noises from beyond, the spectral presences on daguerrotype prints, the sudden chill and the eerie glow, all of those rely on the idea of there being something beyond this life, some continuation of the spirit when the body has ceased to breathe. For that, you need to discount the ideas that the consciousness has moved on to another physical body and is currently living elsewhere, and that it was never separate from the body and has now ceased to exist. Can we say that this is secular?
More so: Gothic literature, as the name suggests, draws heavily on Catholic imagery, even when it avoids explicit references to Catholicism. Aside from the architectural imagery, Catholic religious symbols permeate the genre, as well as the larger horror and supernatural media genres that grew from it: Dracula flinches from a crucifix, priests expel demons from human bodies, Marley’s Ghost haunts Ebenezer Scrooge in chains. The concepts of heaven and hell, and nonhuman beings who dwell in those places, are critical to making the narratives work. 
The basis also draws from a biblical story, that of the Witch of Endor. The main tropes of Victorian spiritualism are present: Saul never sees the ghost of Samuel, only the Witch of Endor is able to see “A divine being rising” from wherever he rises from, and her vague description, “I see an old man rising, wearing a robe,” evokes the cold readings of charlatan mediums into the present (Indeed, some rabbinic sources commenting on this assert that this is exactly what was going on).
While neither of these views of its origin define the genre as the sole property of Catholicism--or of Judaism for that matter--it would be hard exactly to categorize them as secular.
A Jewish Perspective on ghosts
However, it’s not the case that ghost media is incompatible with Jewishness, assuming that it doesn’t commit to a view of heaven and hell duality that specifically embraces a Christian spiritual framework. 
Jewish theology is noncommittal on the subject of the afterlife. The idea of a division between body and soul in the first place is found in ancient Egypt, for instance, earlier than the earliest Jewish texts. In Jewish text it’s present in narratives like the creation story, in which God crafts a human body out of earth and then breathes life into it once it’s complete. It also appears in our liturgy: the blessings prescribed to be recited at the beginning of the day juxtapose Elohai Neshama, a blessing for the soul, with Asher Yatzar, expressing gratitude for the body, recited by many after successfully using the bathroom. 
Yet it’s not clear that this life-force is something separate than the body that lives beyond it, until the apparition of the Witch of Endor. The words we use to describe it, whatever it is, evoke the process of breathing rather than that of eternal life: either ruach (spirit, or wind) or neshama (soul, or breath): neither is a commitment to the idea that it does--or that it doesn’t--go somewhere else when the body returns to the earth. 
Jewish folklore, however, leans into the idea of ghosts and other spiritual beings inhabiting the earthly plane (and others). Perhaps most famous is the 1937 movie The Dybbuk, in which a young scholar engaging in kabbalistic practices calls upon dark forces to unite him and his fated love, only to find himself possessing her body as a dybbuk. It appears that he is about to be successfully exorcized, but ultimately when his soul leaves her body, hers does as well. 
More relevantly to your story, a Jewish folktale inspired the movie The Corpse Bride. In the folktale version, a newly-engaged man jokingly recites the legal formula he will soon recite at his wedding, and places his ring on the finger of a nearby corpse--a reference to a time when antisemitic violence is said to have gotten worse not only at Jewish and Christian holidays as it does still to this day, but around Jewish weddings as well. The murdered bride stands up, a corpse reanimated complete with consciousness, and demands that the bridegroom honor his legal obligation. 
In the movie, the bride gives up her demand willingly: her claim on him is emotional rather than legal, and she finally accepts that he has an emotional connection with another person, that he doesn’t love her. In the folk tale, the dead woman takes him to court to decide whether their marriage is legal, since he spoke the legal words to her in front of witnesses as is required, and the court rules that the dead do not have the right to make legal demands on the living. In this version, the moral of the story is that a legal formula is an obligation; that when he jokingly bound himself to the corpse, he not only disrespected the dead but also the legal framework that structures society, and by so doing risked being obligated to keep his side of a contract he never intended to enact. 
This speaks to the ways that a Jewish outlook can differ from a Christian-influenced “secular” one. Christian-influenced cultural ideas can often focus around feeling the right thing, while Jewish stories will often center on doing the right thing. Does the Corpse Bride leave because she realizes she is not the one he loves? Because she--or he--learned a valuable lesson? Or because she loses her court case? It’s not that the boy’s emotions are irrelevant to the story--the tension, the suspense, the horror of the story takes place primarily within the boy’s emotional landscape--but emotions on their own are not a solution. The question “should he marry her” can be answered emotionally, but “has he married her” can only be answered by a legal expert, and once it has been the deceased bride may not have changed her emotional attachment to him, but she no longer has legal standing to pursue her claim. 
Centering legal rectitude over emotional catharsis isn’t a requirement for having Jewish characters in your story, but it’s worth thinking about what is and isn’t universal, what is and isn’t actually all that secular. 
Meanwhile, back at the topic:
Where does any of this place Danielle?
Well, unless you’re positing a universe in which Christian or other deities or cosmologies are confirmed to exist (See Jewish characters in a universe with author-created fictional pantheons for more on that topic), there’s no reason why they shouldn’t be perfectly fine interacting with whatever the setting you’re building throws at them. 
My wishlist for this character and setting runs more to the general things to consider when writing fantasy settings with Jewish characters: 
Don’t confirm or imply that Jesus is a divine being. That means no supernatural items like splinters of the cross, grails, nails, veils, etc. There’s nothing particularly powerful or empowering about this one guy who lived and died like so many others.
Don’t show God’s body and especially not God’s face, or confirm that any other gods or deities exist, whether that’s Jesus, Aphrodite, or Anubis, or someone you made up for the context. 
Don’t put Danielle in a position where they’re going to play into an antisemitic trope like child murder, blood drinking, world domination, or financial greed. If you have to, name it and let Danielle express discomfort with or distaste for those actions both because Jewish values explicitly oppose all of those things but also because Danielle as a Jewish character would be painfully aware of these stereotypes as present and historical excuses for antisemitic violence. 
Do consider what Danielle’s personal practice might look like. What does Danielle do on Shabbat? What do they eat or refrain from eating? What are their memories of Jewish holidays and how is their current holiday observance different than their childhood? I know I say “Jewishness is diverse” on every ask, but it is, and these questions--which also underscore how very much Judaism is rooted in one’s actions during this life--will help you develop how Judaism actually functions to inform Danielle’s character, even if you don’t spell out the answers to each of these questions in text. 
Do let Danielle find joy, comfort, and identity in their Jewishness not just in contrast with Christianity but simply because it’s part of the wholeness of their character. I know the primary representation of Jewishness is a snappy one-liner in a Christmas episode followed by the Jewish character joining in the Christmas spirit, blue edition, but make room for Jewishness to inform how Danielle approaches the events of your story, or why they decide to get or stay involved.  
-Meir
Hi it’s Shira with some Jewish ghost story recs written from inside–
When The Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb (deliriously good queer YA Jewish paranormal, mainstream enough that it’s got a good chance of being at your local library and won all kinds of awards)
The Dyke and the Dybbuk by Ellen Galford (sorry for the slur, warning for a paragraph of biphobia in the book but it’s an older book. I read this right before my divorce so my memories are super fuzzy but it’s about this modern day lesbian who gets possessed by the ghost of a different lesbian from hundreds of years earlier in Jewish history.) Nine of Swords Reversed by Xan West z’L of blessed memory - another queer Jewish paranormal.
The general plot is that two partners are struggling with how to be honest with each other about the effect disability is having on them. It’s got a very warm and fuzzy cozy vibe but kink culture is central to the worldbuilding so if that isn’t your vibe I didn’t want you to go in unaware.
The Dybbuk in Love by Sonya Taaffe. I don’t remember the details but I remember loving it, it’s m/f and romance between possessor and possessed.
I wrote a really short one called A Man of Taste where a gentile vampire woman and a Jewish ghost/dybbuk get together.
~S
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ghouldump · 4 months ago
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✧ iwtv imagines
everything is gn!reader or fem!reader.
poc friendly !!
if requesting, please provide a generic summary, to give me an idea.
please follow for more, your support is appreciated.
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beautiful deception
moving to paris, the last thing you expected was to come across the ancient vampire.
beautiful deception, untold truth
remembering the truth sometimes hurts, but perhaps love will prevail
bring me back to life
when he discovers something new, rejuvenating him from anything that has happened, and now he has to have her
teacher’s pet
hunting with armand as his new lovely fledgling and companion.
to be loved
idolized and worshipped by your coven members, alive but not living, things quickly change for you when you move to paris, and meet your soulmate.
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ride the dragon
during the anticipated interview, daniel didn’t expect louis to have such an alluring companion
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001 002 003
anything for you ii
all he wants is for you to be his perfect companion, yet you keep chasing the fleeting things of life.
as you are | bi!reader
cuddling together, the two of you share your experiences with past lovers.
come to me
lestat is willing to do anything to get his companion back, even if it means revealing his identity to the entire world.
diva
lestat is a handful to tour with but he's also incredibly handsome and charismatic.
fallen
princess of demacia, a marine kingdom is temporarily banished. she refuses to conform to the standard, being a heartless killer. wandering the water, she finds herself in new orleans, where she meets a vampire.
fangirl
meeting the vampire rockstar goes surprisingly well.
love me | bi!reader
as your companionship seems to be failing, you retreat, seeking comfort from a woman who looks awfully similar.
masquerade
even with your horrific background, he fell deeply for your heart.
pretty when you cry | bi!reader
when you are hunting, focused on your prey, you don't even realize how beautiful you look to lestat.
spider and the fly
when lestat uses louis as bait to lure and trap his actual prey.
sweet rapture | bi!reader
lestat is a firm believer that as a vampire, your very existence is about pleasure, but for the first time, he meets someone who shares this belief, even beyond his standards.
the miseducation of vampire lestat | series
The story of a forbidden love, when the young upcoming singer gets herself tangled in the dark world of the rockstar, Lestat. He is too captivating to leave, despite everyone’s efforts to keep the relationship from happening. However, the longer you are close to the brat prince, allowing him to consume your thoughts, the more you realize none of them — not a single one of them, actually knew anything genuine about him.
the night is ours
being awakened, naturally you go to your old love, only to find that he is now a rockstar, perhaps now you can have the happily ever after you both once wanted.
thicker than water
you should have known better than to entertain someone who would bring up the idea of leaving your husband and daughter.
trick or treat
sneaking into the supposedly empty townhouse, you are met by a surprise
tu es mon autre
he never thought he would meet someone who brought back such familiar feelings.
your best nightmare
being away from your companion, as both of you take on stardom, can be frustrating, but it is very rewarding to see your maker for the first time in months.
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if only for one night
initially finding out about the de pointe du lac’s interest, you wanted to steer clear of him, until you accidentally ran into him and changed your entire perception
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all i ask of you | loustat x reader
when lestat takes matters into his own hands, leaving louis to sit in his regret of not complying with your wishes.
back in my arms | loustat x reader
time traveling accidentally and you're able to relive bittersweet memories.
forever young | loustat x reader
you meet someone who reminds you of your maker, and naturally gravitate to them, but your family isn't as welcoming to the idea of the man.
for the love of a daughter | loustat x reader
out of fear, lestat does the unimaginable and has to try his hardest to win his family's trust back, but it may be too late
god complex | loustat x reader
you want out, realizing your little family isn't as perfect as you thought, but they would never let you slip away so easily.
l’amour de ma vie | loustat x reader
while you love your companions, it is no secret that they oftentimes exclude you, and it isn't until you leave that they go into panic mode.
trust | loumand x reader
born for stardom, but destined for chaos, the last thing you ever expected was for two old vampires to become your companions.
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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 4 months ago
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A Night Forgotten
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Part Six
This is going to be a longer one
He looked at the drink on the table, seeming intrigued. Picking it up without permission – he still had that bad habit of thinking the world was his oyster and he could pearl dive any time he pleased, regardless of personal space or property rights – he held it to the light and look up at it. One dark brown eyebrow cranked up with interest. Then, he took a sip from her straw, seeming to savour the flavour a moment, measuring it across his palette. When his curiosity was satisfied, he put the drink back down in front of her.
“Interesting,” was all he said.
This was all very typical Erik.
“What did you mean by what you’d said earlier? And don't give me any half-baked answers like the last one,”Emoni demanded, taking up her new drink and sucking down a mouthful.
He shrugged and nudged his chin towards the barge. “Vegas is the city of vice and sin, Daniels. Did you really think I was only interested in coming here for a wedding, especially knowing you were here – having fun without me?”
Her heart thumped into her throat. She took another sip for courage. "R-really? And why's that?"
His gaze moved back to hers, locked on and held hard. A simmering heat warmed up those inky-black orbs that stared into her soul and a small confident smile graced those luscious lips. "You know why."
Emoni now knew what a deer in the headlights felt like. A nervous energy radiated out of her tummy and flowed across her limbs, making her hands shake. She put the drink down and refused to look away.
“What are you saying?”
Emoni required full disclosure. No games. She wasn't built for innuendo. With her, direct was always better.
“What do you want with me?”
With slow, purposeful movement, Erik uncrossed his legs and leaned into her. His knee wedged between hers, and his hands leaned on the arms of the lounge chair Emoni sat in outside of the ballroom, caging her. His mouth moved with clear intent towards hers, stopping as he pillowed very softly right over them. It was an almost-kiss. His half-lidded eyes looked directly into hers without flinching.
“I want you to have the best damn night of your life with me. I want you to let go and tap into your wild side…explore Sin City and forget morals…”
Emoni blinked slowly at him and then she parted her lips to speak.
“…And?”
“…I want to fuck you.”
She’d never been more scared of sex in her life than she was in that moment. Even her first time had been comfortable. She’d planned that night out in detail after all, fully prepared. Since then, She’d only been with two other men – one a short summer fling, and the other a toxic relationship. After they'd failed, She’d sworn no more until Mister Right came along.
Erik was staring at her in the face right now, telling her that he wanted to fuck her, and the heat in his eyes said it would be to within an inch of her life. Emoni knew his reputation, she knew he was skilled and hung and… oh my God, it didn't matter that he had a potential witless fiancée back in Wakanda waiting - Emoni wanted him! She felt like she’d been waiting all her adult life for this moment. It was terrifying.
She gathered her courage. Could she do this? It was crossing some serious moral lines that she’d once upon a time, when she’d been younger and more naïve, believed in maintaining at all costs. She didn’t understand why she was struggling with this. After all, she did plan on leaving tonight with some random fine ass man!
Yet, it hadn't been her who'd made the proposition. Erik was the engaged one.
“What about that potential fiancé of yours back in Wakanda? And that model chick back in Cali?” Emoni challenged.
He frowned a bit. “What about them?”
Emoni shoved on his shoulder and tsk'd. “Aren’t you engaged?!”
“No, that’s where you have it all twisted. They want me to marry this woman back in Wakanda but at MY request, I want to find my own suitable princess. Fuck all that old fashioned bullshit.”
It was her turn to frown. “What does that even mean?!”
Erik shrugged. “She's obviously not someone I want to marry. She feels the same to be honest. She’s got her own shit going on with some dude she’s into.”
Now, Emoni was getting angry. “So, you thought you'd just go on out and get a piece of your own while the cat is away? Any port in the storm - that it?”
That infuriating smirk crawled up his dimpled cheek. "Not any port, no. A particular one, yes."
Her jaw fell open. "You're unbelievable! You have the audacity to just…"
{ Kiss }
Emoni didn't get any more out as he leaned forward the rest of the way and kissed her for the first time. Her toes curled. She thought her head was going to explode from the pleasure. Seriously. Holy shit, Erik Stevens could kiss! Emoni wanted to curl up in his lap right then and there and let him kiss her until the end of the world rained down upon their heads. His lips were plump and soft, his tongue tasted sugary and it slithered into her mouth so skillfully she almost fainted. The little breaths he released shot straight to her drenched folds. It was the type of kiss she’d had wet dreams about.
“You're using me,” Emoni trembled against him as he pulled back a bit.
“I'm not,” he vowed, very assured.
She shook her head as he dipped over her lips with peppering kisses.
“What is this if not using, Stevens?”
His tongue slipped past her open mouth and twined with hers. He growled, and she heard it over the music in the background. She felt it in her ribs.
“You're thinking too hard – again,” he contested. “Stop. Just feel.”
“This is crazy,” Emoni whimpered. “You'll hurt me.”
Erik pulled back to stare deeply and intensely into her eyes. Emoni searched his gaze, this overpowering emotion between them strong.
"I won't. Come with me," he took her hand, and backed up to give her room to stand with him. He tugged, and Emoni flowed up into his arms, which held her tight to his muscular frame. He smelled incredible – a spicy, musky cologne that tantalized her senses. His lips hovered over her ear again like he did on the dance floor.
“Be mine, Emoni. Let me show you. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
Oh damn, fuck, shit, I’m doomed, aren’t I? Emoni thought.
Gathering her purse, she threw a last look over at the dance floor as he led me away.
———
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The interior of Erik’s sports car with butterfly doors was pristine and smelled like him. They zoomed off away from the wedding, the garter Erik removed from Emoni’s thigh wrapped around his gear shift and his mask resting atop his head. Emoni clutched onto the handle above her seat and clenched her thighs together. It was something about the speed and the way Erik maneuvered the car that turned her on. A few stray curls had slipped from her up-do and fell into her eyes. She looked pleasantly disheveled.
“Have you ever been a passenger princess before?”
“H-huh?”
Erik gave Emoni a quick glance with a chuckle. He reached out to turn down his music so she could hear him better.
“Have you ever been a passenger princess?”
Emoni slowly nodded her head, “I’ve ridden passenger side with my ex many times—”
“No, no. Have you ever been a passenger princess?”
Emoni pondered his words, too intoxicated to think straight. She finally understood what he was asking her and a fresh wave of arousal showered her. This was going to be a long night of fucking and sucking for the both of them.
“I—no. No, I can’t recall that I have…”
Her chest heaved up and down as she watched Erik take his free hand to grip her knee closest to him. He forced her leg apart and his fingers pressed firmly into the flesh of her inner thigh.
“Take your panties off and give them to me.”
“What do you plan to do with them?”
“Keep them. Enough questions, Emoni. Remember, relax and just enjoy.”
Emoni exhaled and went to work taking her red lace panties off. She slowly held them out for Erik to take and he plucked them out of her hand before taking a quick whiff and placing them in the front pocket of his cotton dress shirt. Emoni sat there with her mouth unhinged and wide eyes.
“This is what’s gon’ happen. You’re gonna cum from my fingers like a true passenger princess, and you’re gonna clean the mess you make off of my fingers. Understand?”
“Erik—”
“For the duration of our evening of naughtiness, Miss Emoni, you are to refer to me as daddy. Your Highness is good too…”
Erik stroked her chin quickly before making a turn. So many rules to his little game. What if she wanted to make some rules too?
“…okay. And if I don’t?”
“Easy,” Erik cut his dark eyes at her, “You’ll get a spanking.”
“As if—”
“Emoni, I’ve waited for this moment for a very, very, very long time. I’ve wanted to do things to you…things you wouldn’t be able to handle. One of those things is putting you over my knee and spank that impertinent ass. Stop with the questions, okay? Breathe.”
She was stunned to silence.
[ Relax ]
Emoni exhaled and relaxed into her seat. She giggled to herself while staring out of the window.
“Maybe I am prudish. Who am I to deprive myself of a good time? Even if that means being a bad girl.”
A slow, sly smirk crept up Erik’s face.
“So, when do we get to cement my position as passenger princess, daddy?”
Erik almost slammed on his breaks. Emoni brought her knees to her chest and teased Erik while inching her dress up past her thighs. He was fighting the urge to take his eyes off the road. The smooth, shiny flesh of her beautiful legs had him drooling. The sight of those petite ankles, the slim width of her feet and their pretty arches, along with those adorably painted toenails made him uncomfortably aware of his growing erection. Shit, he'd never been a 'foot man' before, but he had the feeling that after tonight, he was going to be a convert to the cause. Every inch of her body would be revealed to him soon enough and he couldn’t wait to taste and touch.
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”
“Tell me more,” Emoni cooed, blinking her eyes seductively with a bite of her lip.
“Your intellect turns me on. When you’re mad you make the cutest face and I just want to nibble all over your cheeks. You always smell amazing. I wish I was your first instead of that dumb ass nigga all those years ago. You make me feel all types of ways and I just—I just—”
Erik turned his gaze toward her.
“You just what?” Emoni questioned.
{ Say It }
“I’minlovewithyou.”
The words came out jumbled as if he were forced to say those words. Emoni stared at him unblinking.
“…Did you just say that you love me?”
“I did…didn’t I?” Erik chuckled nervously, “uhh—”
[ Say It ]
“I love you too!”
They were at a red light. Both Erik and Emoni stared into each other’s eyes.
BEEP! BEEP!
Erik blinked away suddenly and floored it. Emoni’s head collided with the seat. She glanced over at Erik, catching his eye. Both of them giggled.
“I’m so in love with you, Emoni Isabella Davis. DAMN. It feels so good to say that. I’ve been dying to say that to you.”
“We’re in love,” Emoni said with a whimsical laugh, “love! I’ve wanted to tell you how much I love you for so long! What a relief!”
“I know, right?! Such a relief.”
“I love you Erik N’Jadaka Stevens,” Emoni said cheerfully.
“And I love you, my precious Emoni.”
Erik’s hand slipped between Emoni’s thighs and she gasped with excitement. His touch was electric. Like a zing she felt it from head to toe. Her chest thrust out and she grabbed onto his wrist. The tips of his thick fingers feathered over her plump outer lips. She hadn’t waved in over a month and for a second she wanted to refuse his hand out of embarrassment but it just felt too good. He grunted like a primal animal when his fingers tore away from her moist center.
Erik inspected his fingers and neither of them could believe how much arousal seeped from her opening. She’d never been that wet because of a man. You’d think she used lube to get herself that slick. Slowly, Erik sucked on his fingers. Emoni whimpered at the visual.
“Fuck,” Erik licks his lips, “Spread your legs more for me, baby…”
Emoni opened up wider and watched Erik’s hand creep between her legs again. This time, he parted her lips to feel further in between. His middle finger flicked upward on her clit and her back arched from the seat. Erik maneuvered the car through a tunnel with the windows down and one hand on the wheel. Erik couldn’t believe how wet she was. Emoni could feel herself climaxing already. She threw her head back, shut her eyes tightly, and closed her thighs around Erik’s hand.
The pulse under her skin began thrumming with speed. She felt a little dizzy from his intimate touch. They were simpatico in their desires for each other, it seemed. Maybe she wouldn't end up quite so devastated from this in the morning. She hoped, anyway. She was feeling as bold and sexy as she had while drinking that cocktail at the reception, and although she had little experience, she’d done enough reading on the subject, and seen plenty of porn. Emoni knew what might work, and she rolled with it, allowing the buzz from the alcohol to chase away her inhibitions.
“You just came for me…already? Mmm…you needed me, baby…I’m the only one that can make you feel like this…”
“Yes, please, daddy, stick your fingers inside…”
“Like this?”
Erik slipped two fingers deep – his middle and ring finger – groaning as he fit his fingers into her powerful passage. She expanded and lubricated his digits more the deeper he went. With each decent, her walls would clench. Emoni didn’t know this, but Erik’s dick was painfully hard. It was morning wood times a hundred. Hard and unyielding. Pulsating with a need to be freed. Balls tight with an unbearable lust to be emptied. More precum than he’d ever witnessed staining his briefs.
“Oh, shit, that pussy feels amazing, Princess. Damn, this pussy is nice and fuckin’ wet.”
“it’s so deep…oh, fuck…daddy…right there…more…unh!”
Emoni’s legs spasmed with her second release. This time, she creamed all over Erik’s fingers. Jolts of pleasure came over her body the more Erik finger-fucked her. He didn’t stop, he needed to see it again. He pulled into a parking spot outside of a Karaoke club and unfastened his seatbelt swiftly. Erik brought Emoni’s seat all the way back and he leaned over her body to capture her lips. His tongue snaked into her mouth while his thick fingers pumped in her deeply. The flesh of her cleavage bounced, she was breathless, and her eyes were closed tight.
Erik broke the kiss to watch her face. Emoni’s eyes slowly slid opened and her gaze connected with Erik’s.
“Watch me…I want you to watch how beautiful you look cumming for me,” Erik pulled down the mirror so she could watch her face, “You look like a goddess, baby. So beautiful…so wet for me…such a good girl…”
Emoni blinked back tears of pleasure. Erik couldn’t keep his mouth off of her. He was attacking her neck now like a wild beast, licking and nibbling all over her flesh. His lips made its way to the tops of her breasts, the sensation mixed with his fingers going in and out of her causing her to moan out loud. The windows are rolled down, surely someone heard.
“Daddy! You’re making me cum again!”
“Cum, baby, let it out…that’s it…”
Emoni tore her eyes away from the mirror and smashed her lips into Erik’s. One hand fisted the front of his cotton dress shirt while the other squeezed his bicep like she was trying to pop a muscle. When the last bit of tremors wore off and their kissing stopped, Erik’s fingers gently slipped out of her opening. Emoni dropped her eyes down to his hand and couldn’t believe how much cream coated his fingers.
“Suck.”
Emoni parted her glossy lips and Erik’s fingers sat on her tongue. She wrapped her lips around his fingers and suctioned while staring into his dark eyes.
“I can’t wait to have you, Emoni. I’m so hard right now…”
His fingers left her mouth and Erik raised her seat into its original position. He fixed her dress and smoothed a few curls from her eyes.
“Where are we?” Emoni asked, still on cloud nine from that amazing foreplay.
“Karaoke. I want to watch you sing.”
“Wait…Erik, I’m a terrible singer! Why can’t we just go back to your beach house and fuck?! This is embarrassing…” She covered her face with her hands.
“Remember what I said, this is a night to let loose and have the best fucking time of your life. Stop worrying about being perfect all the time, Emoni. Come on.”
Erik made sure he was decent before leaving his car and walking around to open Emoni’s door. She grasped his hand and Erik helped her out of her seat, fixing her dress and hair before retrieving her hand bag. He closed the butterfly doors and led the way towards the entrance. Emoni’s heart was hammering away at her chest. She couldn’t believe she was about to do this in front of an audience.
———
Emoni was about to experience Karaoke the Vegas way. They entered a vibrantly lit bar decorated with neons of all colors. Although she was nervous, she actually loved the vibes already inside KAMU Karaoke. Erik guided her towards an open high-top table next to the karaoke stage. He pulled out her seat and startled her by picking her up and placing her on the stool.
Erik took a seat across from her, rolling up the sleeves to his cotton button down and undoing the first two buttons so he could loosen his tie easily. Emoni couldn’t look across at Erik without clenching her thighs together. He gave her a knowing smirk as if he could read her mind.
“You want another drink?!” Erik asked.
“Uhh—how about shots?!”
“Shots?! You sure?!” Erik gave her a scrutinizing look with his thick lips twisted, “Whatchu want?!”
“Chilled Patron shots with a lime garnish please!”
“Ooh, my kind of girl!” Erik reached over to caress her chin with his thumb, “I’ll be right back!”
Erik hopped down and headed towards the bar.
Two months ago, if anyone would have told Emoni that she’d one day be the recipient of Erik Stevens’ sexual interest, and that she’d actually crave him back, she would have laughed herself silly. Now, she wasn't finding the idea so funny. Provocative? Certainly. Humorous? No.
Erik had returned with four shots, carefully placing them down on the table before taking his place across from her again. They each grabbed a glass, toasted each other, then tapped it on the table before knocking it back. It went down smooth and the taste of the lime on her tongue was an added bonus.
For several long seconds, they stared at each other – Emoni was caught off guard and clearly surprised by what had transpired between them. Erik smirked with amusement at having thrown her for a loop again. His eyes drifted lazily down her form during that momentary pause, appreciating her beauty. He surprised Emoni by reaching across and tugging gently on a curl.
“Take down your hair.” Erik commanded.
Emoni gave Erik a nervous glance before reaching up to remove the pins that held her curly updo in place. When she’d retrieved the last pin, Emoni placed them in her bag and shook her curls out with her fingers. Chocolate-brown ringlets framed her face and fell into her eyes. She looked over at Erik expectantly as heat crept over her melanated flesh. 
“Different,” was what he came up with, and Emoni could just barely make out what he said over the noise around them.
She scowled at him. That wasn't the word she’d been hoping to hear. 'Beautiful,' 'amazing' or maybe even 'tasty' would have been much more appreciated. 'Different' was safe and utterly unflattering. Sheraised an eyebrow in displeasure.
“Quite,” She said louder and with a bitter tone so he'd hear her, and then she rolled her eyes.
He knew exactly what to do to piss her off.
[ Relax ]
Emoni exhaled and a calming sensation washed over her body.
Unexpectedly, in that same moment, that familiar voice of his sent a shiver up her spine. “Different and delicious, Daniels.”
She nearly dropped the shot glass.
“Drink every drop for me,” he bade in that same compelling tone, “I want to taste it on your lips and tongue later.”
Instantly, the flash of desire warmed her lower extremities, making that fluttering in her stomach kick up a pace. She felt her nipples tighten at the thought of what was to come.
Oh, no - absolutely not a mistake coming here tonight.
“Are you gonna go up there?!” Erik raised both of his brows at her.
“I don’t know. There’s too many people here!”
“Emoni. Get your fine ass up on that stage and have some fun! Trust me, nobody will laugh or make fun of you, baby. And if they do…I’m knocking ‘em out.”
Emoni looked over at the stage and giggled at two drunk white girls singing Spice Girls- Wannabe. Her eyes moved over the crowd of people and most were cheering them on and singing along while others were too drunk to care. Emoni knew she could do it. She’d presented in front of a larger audience before at work and during her college days. With a final exhale, Emoni finished her shot and stood up from her stool carefully. The two girls exited the stage and that gave her the opportunity. She gave Erik one look and he gave her an encouraging smile with a tilt of his head.
Emoni walked towards the stage and took her time climbing the short staircase. Instantly, she could feel people watching her. She walked up to choose a song, tremors in her fingers a reminder of how nervous she was. Emoni found a song and grabbed a mic before turning to face that room full of people. Erik was standing closer, a reassuring look in his eyes that gave Emoni a boost of confidence. The song started and the crowd instantly started vibing to the classic.
You've been waiting so long, I'm here to answer your call
I know that I shouldn't have had you waiting at all
I've been so busy, but I've been thinking 'bout
What I wanna do with you…
She cleared her throat a little and gave a nervous nod in Erik’s direction when he shook his head for her to keep going. Suddenly, she felt like she could do anything. One look at him and she forgot all about how afraid she felt.
I know them other guys, they been talking bout the way I do what I do
They heard I was good, they wanna see if it's true
They know you're the one I wanna give it to
I can see you want me too
Now, it's me and you…
Emoni was swaying her hips to the sultry beat, giving off seductive energy, locking eyes with Erik, and not once did she stumble over her words.
It's me and you, now
I've been waiting (Waiting)
Think I wanna make that move, now
Baby, tell me if you like it (Tell me if you like it)
It's me and you, now
I've been waiting
Think I wanna make that move, now
Baby, tell me how you like it!!!!
People were out of their seats, wolf whistling and clapping. From the looks of it, she was the most entertaining that evening thus far. Some men gave her hungry looks, some women envied her, and the others were so excited they sang along to the lyrics. Erik couldn’t contain his smile and his utter shock. Emoni Davis was having fun and cutting up. She strutted over towards Erik with her adorable self and started singing to him with the sweetest voice and her finger pointed at him. Erik’s eyes grew wide and his smile widened with his dimples popped out.
Baby, I’ll love you all the way down!
Get you right where you like it, I promise you'll like it (I swear)
Just relax and let me make that move (It's our secret thang)
Keep it between me and you!!!!
It's me and you, now (Oh Yea-a)!!!!
I've been waiting
Think I wanna make that move, now (Move now)
Baby, tell me if you like (Tell me if you like it)
I’ve been waiting! I’ve been waiting!
The music faded and Emoni covered her face while the audience cheered her on. She couldn’t believe she did that. Emoni gracefully exited the stage and she held out the mic for Erik to take.
“It’s your turn now, Stevens. Let’s see you get up there and sing!”
Erik challenged her with a single brow raised and a slight smirk. He snatched the mic from her hand, brought it to his lips, and leaned in towards her face.
“Watch how I outdo you.”
Emoni folded her arms sassily with a scowl and a smirk. Erik slipped past her and to that stage. She was about to witness Erik Stevens singing. She needed to record this. While he searched for a song, Emoni rushed to retrieve her phone. She made it back in time when a song she recognized started playing. When she realized what it was her eyes lit up and she started giggling.
Yeahhh yeah—yeahhhhh!!!!
Girl, I wish that I could spend time with you each and every day
Playing all my love and emotions that's the thing that's got me open
And I don't know what it takes to let you know you're my girl
To let you know you're my baby
And even when they say we won't stay around
If they only knew that we were meant to be together
Forever and ever whatever there's no better thing
Me and you girl, that's why I write you love letters saying!!!
I like the way you look at me
I like the time we spend, baby
I like what we have grown to be
I like it, girl, don't you know I like it
I like the way you look at me
I like the time we spend, baby
I like what we have grown to be
I like it, girl, don't you know I like it…
Erik sang to his heart’s desire with his eyes closed and a hand to chest. He knew all the words without even looking at the screen. A true Millennial. He had all the black people in the room jamming. Emoni Could only imagine a twelve–year–old Erik singing to this and writing love letters.
Sometimes I want to be the one you be checking for, can I get a second for me
Me and you to be alone tell me if you think it's wrong
Love is nothing but the time it takes you to say I'm on your mind
Let me tell you I'm always there, oh yeah
Let's get a little time away, go to the movies on a Saturday
Meet me at the finish line so I can tell you one more time
Girl, you know I'm not scared to let you say that…
Erik was down on his knees singing to Emoni! She was stunned. Everyone made too much noise, almost drowning out Erik’s singing.
I like the way you look at me
I like the time we spend, baby
I like what we have grown to be
I like it, girl, don't you know I like it
I like the way you look at me
I like the time we spend, baby
I like what we have grown to be
I like it, girl, don't you know I like it!!!
He dropped the mic and threw his hands up while the room erupted with applause. This man could do no wrong. He left the stage and walked up to Emoni. Erik grabbed her chin and pressed his lips into hers. They tongued each other down, both unable to contain their laughter. They returned to their seats while the next person took the stage. Emoni fanned herself while staring at Erik.
———
“What did you mean by different?”
They were both seated on top of the front of his sports car sharing French fries from In-N-Out and staring up at the crescent moon. They needed to eat something to soak up the alcohol.
“You have a different aura about you when you’re less wound up and tense, Emoni. I’ve awakened something in you that’s been locked away far too long. I’m sorry you had to feel like you needed to tuck some of the best parts of yourself away because of that stupid nigga. I see your potential, even beyond your beauty. I always have.”
Emoni tucked her chin and blinked away tears. She hated being so vulnerable. It was definitely the drinks. She gathered enough courage to look at him again.
“Thank you,” She gave him a warm smile, "You’re the only man to ever see me as more than just my physical appearance. You challenge me and your cleverness and natural born leadership turns me on more than that pretty face and those plump lips of yours. And don’t stare at me like that, Stevens, I just might leave a wet spot on this car…”
He sat up straighter, encouraged by the fact that she'd taken that much effort to pay attention to him.
“…When you laugh with true sincerity it sounds nice, you have impeccable table manners, are well organized, and you smell rather pleasant on a regular basis." She counted them off once more and then nodded, satisfied. “There, we're done.”
All of her compliments were rather touching, honestly, but one in particular grabbed his attention.
“It's Wakandan. Custom.”
She blinked. "What is?"
“You said I smell rather pleasant. It's my cologne. It comes from Wakanda, and is tailored so that everyone smells whatever they most desire from me,” he explained, hopping off his car and approaching her side. She looked ready to melt by the time he'd bent down in front of her and leaned over her, putting his neck near her nose. “What do you smell?”
Her warm breath panting against his neck sent electric tingles down his spine.
A beat later, she had her nose pressed against the lee of his throat and was taking deep, drawing breaths in and sighing in pleasure on the exhale. When she moaned in longing, Erik thought he'd never heard a more desirable sound, and his body reacted by going hard and tight. "What do you smell, my princess?" he coaxed, placing his mouth next to her ear, caressing the delicate skin with his soft lips. “Tell me,” he whispered, in a dark, enticing tone.
She began to pant, and her hands crept of their own accord to grip his shoulders. With a light pressure, she dug her nails into his skin.
His heart began to pound hard in his chest.
“Sandalwood, cinder ash, wine, and…red roses.”
Ghosting his lips up the side of her throat, he sighed, pleased by her imagination. “Beautiful. That's your idea of love-making, Daniels. How you see it…with me.”
“Hmm?" she asked, slowly coming back into herself, pulling away from his collar. Her grip on his arms eased up. "Love-making? With you?”
Erik wanted to set a sultry tone that would linger with her thoughts after this round was over.
“The scent is meant to evoke your passion and trigger your unconscious desires for me,” he explained in a soft murmur. “Black satin sheets and silver moonlight…you want me to dominate you, but you want it done seductively at first then rough. A warm fire and wine…you want things between us to burn slowly and smolder before we lose all control and overindulge in each other.”
“…I haven't been able to unwind in, well, a long time.”
Emoni was embarrassed to admit.
“That's because you play too little and work too hard,” Erik agreed.
“I can't help it,” she breathed a frustrated sigh. “There's always so much to do, and it's hardwired into me to get it all done!”
“As your boss, I command you to ease your mind. You can loosen up a little," he tried to sooth her. “Just forget the world outside for now. Relax and enjoy this.”
He gently placed his lips over the curve of her neck and shoulder, leaving small, barely-there kisses as he went. With a quick swipe, he touched his tongue to her warm skin. She was powdered with honey dust, a delicious treat he hadn't expected, and which explained how her skin sparkled under the light. Underneath it though, she tasted as if she'd just stepped out of the ocean.
The flavour had his chest going tight and sent his dick straining for its freedom.
Mine.
If anything could have confirmed for him the truth of what his heart and body had been telling him for years, that right there had done it.
“Tell me something you’ve always wanted to do but you never did out of fear.”
Emoni pondered.
“Uhm…oh! I’ve always wanted a belly ring but I’m too scared to get it. It’s such a sexy piercing, you know?”
“Hmm, I like belly piercings. You should do it.”
“Oh, no. I think I’m good.”
“Emoni, c’mon, ma. You could get one tonight.”
“Tonight?!” Emoni looked up at Erik with wide eyes.
“Okay, how about this,” Erik ate the last fry, chewing it and swallowing before he spoke again, “If you agree to get your belly button pierced, I’ll get a tattoo. Whatever you want.”
“…whatever I want?” Emoni pointed to herself.
That didn’t sound too bad. She loved the idea of deciding what Erik should get tatted on him.
“Yes. Whatever you choose, Baby girl.”
“Okay. Fuck it. Let’s do it.”
Erik grinned at her before reaching out to grab her hand. He walked her towards the passenger side and helped her in before sliding across the car to his side, causing Emoni to laugh.
Drunken nights with the Prince of Wakanda was absolutely glorious.
———
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They stepped inside of a parlor and was greeted at the front by a receptionist. Erik inquired about piercings and a tattoo and luckily they had artists on staff that evening. Emoni was allowed to chose what ring she wanted to decorate her navel. She wanted to find the cheapest option since Erik was the one paying for the service.
“This one looks okay.”
It was a simple piercing. Nothing too flattering. Erik frowned slightly.
“I don’t really like that one. Are you sure?”
“I—I don’t want to get something expensive, Erik.”
“This one looks really nice. Very sexy…”
“What?! This is too much—”
Erik gave her a look, “Moni. Stop it. I’m treating you.”
Emoni rolled her eyes, “So, you’d buy me something like this?”
Erik pointed to a dangling belly button ring with 14K white gold diamonds. Emoni gawked at him.
“Erik…that costs 2700 dollars…”
“Okay, we’ll get that one then—”
“I MEAN…you’re offering…”
The receptionist giggled.
“You’re a trip. Just admit you want me to spoil you.”
An impish glint appeared in her gaze, followed by a very wicked, sultry smirk. "You’re going to spoil me, Stevens.”
Erik blinked in astonished exasperation.
"…Beautiful," he murmured, moving in to feast upon her luscious mouth. "You're so fucking beautiful, Daniels." He groaned, losing himself in the singe of his blood from her touch and flavor.
“We’ll take this one,” Erik pointed to the expensive piercing through the glass.
The receptionist retrieved the belly ring and Erik whipped out his wallet to pay for everything. Afterwards, they sat down in the lobby until they were serviced.
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The artist is from New Orleans. Emoni could make out the inspiration from The Big Easy. Anxiously fidgeting, she looked around, admiring the photos and art. Erik stroked her back to calm her down.
“What was in those drinks? I can’t believe I’m about to do this shit—”
“Ready?”
A heavily tatted Asian woman with hot pink hair walked out to greet them. Erik and Emoni stood up and he grabbed her hand as they followed the woman towards the back of the shop. She was led over to a table for her to lay back on. Emoni spotted the tools she planned to use and almost freaked out if it wasn’t for Erik calming her down.
“My name is Suzie. I’ll be taking care of your piercing. Beni, the shop owner, he’ll do your tattoo. Did you read over the paperwork thoroughly?”
“Yes,” Emoni gave Suzie a nervous smile, “Sorry, this has me feeling nervous.”
“It’s alright. Believe it or not, belly button piercings are relatively painless when you’re relaxed. Too much anxiousness can make it uncomfortable. It’s important to stay calm. I mean, you definitely should because there are risks. Let’s take a look at your navel…”
Emoni went to lay on her back on the table and she remembered that her underwear was no longer in her possession. With wide eyes, she glanced over at Erik and they both burst out into a fit of laughter. Suzie watched the exchange with confusion and a smirk on her face.
“So…I’m not wearing any panties. Is there something I could cover up with?”
“Oh! Sure,” Suzie giggles, “I have a pad I can place over you.”
Suzie went to grab a pad and Emoni lifted her dress up to her chest. Erik’s eyes raked over her exposed flesh. He couldn’t wait to have her. All of her.
Suzie draped the pad across her, placed new gloves on her hands, and began sanitizing the area thoroughly. Emoni glanced over at Erik and he gave her an encouraging nod with two thumbs up. Suzie used a surgical marker to mark where she’d pierce. This was a good chance for Emoni to make sure the piercing location is where she wanted it to be.
The moment of truth.
“Breathe in…”
Emoni inhaled and Suzie pierced the area.
“Breathe out…”
She exhaled a shaky breath.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Suzie asked.
“No, actually,” Emoni chuckled, “it was quick I could barely register the pain.”
“Good. Now, there will be some discomfort. Be careful with certain garments. Use a mild, fragrance-free soap or saline solution to gently clean the area around the piercing. You can also try a saltwater mixture of half a teaspoon of sea salt per cup of water to remove dried secretions. Avoid twisting or rotating the jewelry while cleaning, as this can cause irritation and introduce bacteria. Rinse the area thoroughly and pat dry with a lint-free cloth or clean, disposable paper towel. Don't rub the area dry. You can also soak the area in a sterile saline solution for 5–10 minutes daily. Don't use alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, bacitracin, or other ointments, as these can slow healing or irritate the area. Any questions?”
That was a lot of information at once, but Emoni understands what she needed to do. She was given a bag filled with items to start her cleaning process since she didn’t have anything handy until she got home.
“I think I’m good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. It looks good on you. If you guys want, you can head back to Beni.”
“Thanks,” Erik helped Emoni off the table. They both admired her new body jewelry in a mirror before exiting. They entered the next room and it was dimly lit with a reclining leather chair. Beni had just finished setting up what he needed and then he looked up at the pair with his pure hazel eyes. He stood at 5’7 with thick curly brown hair and tattoos covering his entire body. He shook Erik’s hand first and then Emoni’s.
“I’m Beni. So, what are we looking to do?”
Erik pointed to Emoni, “She’s deciding tonight.”
Emoni smiled brightly, “What’s your pain tolerance?”
Erik cocked his head and smirked at her before lifting his dress shirt, revealing tiny raised scars, “Emoni…really?”
“Jesus, my brother,” Beni stared in disbelief, “scarification?”
“Yeah. So to answer your question, baby girl, I have a very high tolerance.”
Emoni hadn’t seen Erik shirtless in years. She was rendered speechless. Erik wanted to know what she was thinking, but that could wait until they were alone. For now, it was time for a tattoo.
“Snap out of it, gorgeous. What do you have in mind for me?”
Emoni blinked away from him and looked at Beni, “Uhm…my name. Get my name tatted.”
“Simple. That okay with you?”
Erik gave a half shrug, “Fine with me. Where do you want your name?”
Emoni couldn’t tear her eyes away from his body. She wanted to feel the raised bumps against her fingertips. Skimming each one like braille. It was so fascinating and sexy at the same time. And don’t even get her started on his muscles—
“Princess?”
“Oh—uhhh—right bellow the V-cut,” She pointed to the area while looking at the physical display of hard work in the gym and discipline in the kitchen. It was his lower right side, only visible if he were naked. Discrete.
Imagine sucking his dick and staring at your name inked into his flesh, Emoni thought.
“You’re so naughty. I know exactly why you want it there,” Erik chuckled, “Fine with me. Let’s get to it.”
Erik made himself comfortable and Emoni sat on a stool at his side. Beni placed the transfer paper onto Erik’s skin and afterwards he began tattooing.
“Tickles a little,” Erik smirked with his eyes closed.
It took about thirty minutes and when Beni finished, he let Erik take a look.
“The best decision I’ve ever made. Permanent and meaningful.”
Erik tugged on Emoni’s hand, drawing her closer and crashing his lips against hers. They tongue kissed ferociously and Erik’s hand made its way between her legs again, stroking her pussy lips. Emoni whimpered into his mouth and held onto him tight, trembling from head to toe even in the aftershocks. Finally, when the sensation became too much, she took her hand from his shoulder, smoothing it down his arm, and silently requested he remove his hand from between her legs before she made a mess. He complied easily, refusing to break off from the kiss quite yet, however. Wanting more…
“Not here,” Emoni gave Beni a look but he was too busy cleaning, probably used to this.
Erik groaned in disappointment.
Pulling away reluctantly, he looked up at her. There was desire in her eyes. Her quaking hand was still holding onto his wrist and she was struggling to regain control. All he did was stroke her outer lips. Obdurate, steadfast, tenacious Emoni Davis had finally let her barrier down. With shimmering chocolate orbs for eyes, and candied lips, she looked positively edible… and scared half to death.
@hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @chaneajoyyy @uzumaki-rebellion @lisayourworries @ratedbadgal @bombshellbre95 @cancerianprincess @dameshaemonique @6lack-1otus @thickemadame @thickeeparker @stinkalinkkkk @ehniki @electrixt @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @bxolux @sweet2krazee @seyven89 @ispywithmylileye @geemamii @unbotheredblackchild @nubianbabee @adoreesun @blackpinup22 @nayaxwrites @cocoa-puffs @dersha89 @honeytoffee @thickianaaaa @modelmemoirs @why-wait-4-eventually @queenfaithmarie @angelicniah @soulfulbeauty19 @aijha @novaniskye @callmemckenzieee @blowmymbackout @lahuttor @momobaby227 @blackerthings @kenbieee @princessxotwod @palmstreesallday @kokokonako @coolfancyone @soulsparker @richgirlaesthetics
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emchante · 11 days ago
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okay i was watching some old grill the grid videos & have u seen the one where daniel has no idea how to tie a tie??
imagine there’s a special event and he asks you to tie it for him 🫠😍 or you ask him to secure your necklace for you (those little acts of service are so hot to me)
this could absolutely work for divorced dad daniel, like imagine getting ready to go to a charity event for his kids school or something hehehehehehe
silk and stares | d. ricciardo
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LIV!! i love that little clip, it lives rent free in my mind. this was originally a ramble but turned into a drabble. enjoy!!
part of the divorced dad!daniel series
warnings: post-divorce daniel, suggestive themes, age gap, unresolved sexual tension.
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daniel was standing in front of the mirror in his modest bedroom, fingers fumbling uselessly with the silk tie around his neck. he let out a frustrated sigh, muttering something under his breath as he gave up and yanked the tie loose.
his kids school had a charity event running this evening, and of course he was going to attend. he had asked you to come over around an hour earlier, as an overseer as him and his kids got dressed up for the night.
now, you were leaning against the doorframe of the room, arms crossed as a smirk made its way onto your lips. “need some help there, mr. ricciardo?”
his gaze shot to yours through the mirror, his mouth quirking into a crooked grin. “i swear, i’m hopeless with these things. every time i think i have it figured out, and then..” he trails off, gesturing towards the tie that was hanging awkwardly around his neck.
pushing yourself off of the door, you step into the room and walk slowly towards him. the tension between you both was electric, unspoken, and only thickening as you got closer.
“you’d think a guy like you would’ve learned by now,” you tease, your tone light but a little suggestive as you approach him.
daniel chuckles, the deep timbre of it sends a small shiver through you. “guess i’ve always been better at taking things off than putting them on.”
the air grew heavier at his words, and you try to ignore the heat crawling up your neck. instead, you grab the tie and motion for him to turn towards you. “alright, let me fix this before you embarrass yourself in front of the PTA,” you tease, trying to move on from his previous comment. you didn’t want to, but.. you shouldn’t start anything you couldn’t finish quick enough. especially not before something important for his kids.
daniel complies, his hands placing themselves on your hips as you step close— too close. the smell of his cologne is warm and woody, something that makes it almost impossible to focus on the simple task at hand.
your fingers work deftly, slipping the silk fabric into a neat knot. as you loop it through, you couldn’t resist a little teasing. “you know, this really isn’t hard. you’ve been wearing ties for how long now?”
he huffs out a laugh, tilting his head to look down at you. “someone’s mouthy tonight, hm?” he murmurs, raising an eyebrow. when you continue to just smirk up at him, he starts talking again. “anyways, just.. not my strong suit. figured i’d just keep finding people like you to help me out.”
your lips quirk up as you tighten the knot and instead of stepping back, you pull him closer by the tie— forcing him to bend slightly toward you. his breath hitches, dark eyes locking on yours.
“you’re lucky i’m just such a good samaritan,” you tell him, voice dropping just slightly, enough to make it clear that your words carry a double meaning.
daniel swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing. his voice comes out lower than usual, “yeah? you always this nice to struggling dads, or am i just someone special?”
you tilt your head, fingers still gripping his tie as you take your time straightening it against his chest. “you? special?” you tease, allowing the moment to stretch, your voice light and playful but your eyes betraying you— betraying the obvious chemistry thrumming between you two. “let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
daniel smirks, his thumbs drawing small circles onto you as his other four fingers squeeze into your skin. “right. wouldn’t want to get the wrong idea,” he murmurs, voice tinged with something heavier, something that hung in the small space between you.
for a moment, neither of you move. the air feels thick with unspoken possibilities, his lips just mere inches away from yours as he stares down into you. you feel the heat radiating off him, his presence could only be described as magnetic, and you swore the only things holding you back were his kids downstairs, and the goddamn tie that was still in your hands.
finally, you step back and release the tie with a little pat to his chest. “there,” you say, your voice feigning nonchalance though your pulse was racing. you knew you weren’t fooling anyone, especially not daniel. but you still continued on. “now you won’t embarrass your kids. you’re welcome.”
daniel exhales slowly, a hint of his signature smirk returning to his lips. “guess i owe you one.”
you raise an eyebrow, already taking a few steps towards the door. “you owe me plenty, ricciardo. don’t you forget it.”
his laughter follows you out the room, but you don’t look back. if you had, you would’ve seen the way his gaze lingered on you, and just how tight his pants had become.
fuck.
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⋆˙⟡ enjoy this? come chat to me through my ask box, publicly or on anon! i’d love to talk to you and hear your thoughts about it <3
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coco-loco-nut · 7 months ago
Text
Book Club - Part 8
Pairing: Grid x Reader, mentioned Lance x Reader
Summary: Headcanon-ish, book club reacting to clips of reader, short but utterly adorable
requests open masterlist
————————
In honor of your fifth season and your birthday, the F1 social media team has gathered your best friends to comment on some moments across your five years in F1:
Moment One
When you joined your first team, a video resurfaced of you from your days in F3, you admitted that your Formula One crush is Nick Hülkenberg, "I mean, look at him when he was driving for Sauber!". Naturally, your team brought you in for a media video, made you watch it, and surprised you with THE Nico Hülkenberg standing behind you. Cue you crying, blushing, and hugging him. Kevin was there too, no one really knows why.
Nico and Kevin laugh, it's one of their favorite memories with you. Despite your mortification and admiration, they invited you to hang out with them in Haas. They genuinely wanted to get to know the newest member of the paddock, which started the best grid friendship. "I knew right away that we were going to be good friends," Kevin tells the interviewer. "My wife surprisingly found it hilarious, she loved Y/n from that moment, probably because she agreed with Y/n," Nico adds. "Not to brag, but we are her best friends,"
Moment Two
In your first year as a driver, you had the absolute pleasure of sitting in an interview with Lando, George, and Alex. It wasn't a press conference, so it was a lot more relaxed. As the three boys joked around and acted like, well, boys, your irritation was clear on your face.
"Oh! I remember that day, she went to find Nico and Kevin, who I was with at the moment and was complaining about how some of the younger drivers were too immature. We invited her to lunch with us and Valtteri," Fernando's face lights up at the clip. "I joked that we were like an old person book club, it ran from there," Valtteri says, smiling at the memory. "How many drivers are in the club now?" The interviewer asks. "We started with just the five of us, the number stands at 10 including Checo," Fernando says, having to think for a second. "I miss Checo, he really was the epitome of our club," Valtteri sighs.
Moment Three
One morning, you were walking into your motorhome, tired and not really paying attention, you slipped on a slick step, not quite having had the chance to dry after the overnight rainfall. You quickly got back up, acting like nothing happened.
"Ouch, poor Y/n, that must've hurt," Lewis grimaces, meanwhile George and Logan are laughing. "She hasn't gotten any better, still uncoordinated," Checo says, he returned just for this surprise. "Yeah, but she got right back up and acted like nothing happened, our unbothered queen," Daniel points out. "Guys, quit laughing at Y/n," Lewis looks at George and Logan disapprovingly. "Don't act like you didn't laugh when the video first came out," George replies, giving the older drivers a knowing look. "She's gonna murder us all," Logan's face loses its color, suddenly remembering the video is recording.
Moment Four
After a night out, you were dragged out of your bed by your wonderful boyfriend, you show up to the paddock with a wealth of juicy gossip. You quickly find Valtteri, Fernando, and Checo just past the gates. As the four of you speak, you spot a camera focused on you. The dirty look you sent it quickly became a meme.
"Haha, that was a great day for gossip, and I usually don't like it," Checo says. "Before you ask, no, we can't tell you what it was. Swore an oath never to share," Valtteri stares at the camera. "It was-" Fernando starts then pauses when the other two look at him. "haha, you thought I was going to spill the tea. I am not,"
Moment Five
Most of your career has been spend on bottom of the grid teams, so when you made your first podium, you couldn't help but to celebrate. Lance ran over to you as you pulled your helmet off. You pulled him into a kiss as the crowds cheered you on.
As soon as the video is shown, the group collectively gags and cringes. "We love them, but sometimes she forgets that we didn't sign up to watch them be all lovey," George tells the interviewer. "There is your proof that she loves someone more than me," Nico chuckles. "We were all so proud of her, we forced her to go to a celebratory dinner with us instead of Lance and Kimi," Logan provided some insight.
Moment Six
Your first win came with your return post injury. But the video that the drivers are shown doesn't just show that, it shows a part of one of your post-race interviews that was previously edited out. "Yeah, the car was good, I drove well too, but I genuinely think that if it weren't for my support system, I wouldn't be here. There were times when I thought about not resigning because I wasn't performing like I thought I should. My support system, they know who they are, reminded me why I drive and have reminded me of my passion. They provided so much guidance and wisdom, they introduced me to Kimi who is now, in every way that matters, my dad, I've taught them slang. More specifically for this race, they helped me recover from my injuries, especially after free practices and qualifying when I would be incredibly sore. Sorry that I'm yapping, I just love them all so much."
All of the guys are trying not to cry. "If it isn't clear by now, we all love her too," Lewis says, passing around tissues. "She really does glue us all together, doesn't she?" Kevin hums. "I've certainly enjoyed the past 4 years, it's hard to believe it's her fifth year here," Nico agrees. "She won before you did," Fernando teases him. "Seriously, we love her so much, not because she is the only woman, but because she is so easy to get along with. She is friends with everyone on the track, never spreads malicious gossip, and is just so down to earth," Daniel says, refocusing the group. "She immediately got Kimi, the Iceman, to like her, that says so much about her," Valtteri agrees.
Similarly to Nico and Kevin in the first clip shown, you are snuck in to watch the last bit. "Guys," you cry a little, pulling them into a group hug. "Happy birthday, hija," Fernando says, starting a euphony of similar comments. "I love you guys so much," you are fully crying. "We love you too, kiddo," Daniel wipes your tears, pulling you into a bear hug.
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blorbocedes · 2 months ago
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For the trope mash-up: didnt mean to turn you on + innocent physical touch for franco 'milf-hunter' colapinto and checo/lewis
okay hear me out. what if checo was a woman instead 🤭🫣
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Checo's had a fucking year.
The car is shit. She's been saying for so long but now they finally believe it as even Redbull’s wunderkind Max struggles in it. Every other interview, news cycle is about her retiring, her being unceremoniously kicked out as drivers salivate for her seat, her middling performance due to early pre-menopausal hormones? Just 2 years ago, she was the Mexican Queen of Defense, and now it's 'is she Redbull’s DEI hire?' The stories have become outlandish, announcing her second pregnancy and retirement at Mexican Grand Prix. That's why after Daniel, who had very clearly been brought in to replace her, was switched mid season she posted the Wolf of Wall Street clip on her instagram to make it clear: I’m not fucking leaving.
So forgive her if she's been seeking a little respite elsewhere.
There's a hot, young Argentine at Williams that's been eyeing her. Checo’s a woman on the F1 grid, she's been eyed like that thousands of times, most of it unwanted. Although, it fell off after she birthed the twins and her tits never returned to their glory days. So it's a little flattering reminder she's still got it. Being able to speak in the same language also helps, not having to translate everything for doublespeak. They have rapport.
“How old are you?” Checo asks at the club. She's not there to celebrate, she just needs a drink. Franco’s at the stage where finishing a race is cause for celebration.
“Twenty five.” Franco replies in her ear entirely too quickly, with a grin.
Checo raised an eyebrow. She didn't keep track of the rookies but she sure as hell knew they weren't doing twenty five year old rookies anymore.
A group of tourists seem to recognize her, probably fans and she's in no autographing mood so she pulls Franco in closer in front of her, to block her five foot four self from the world. He misreads the signal, but is all too happy to step in closer; personal space be damned.
“Okay. I lied. I didn't want to freak you out.” Franco confesses sheepishly.
Checo drinks her whiskey, assessing it. “I was winning karting races while you were in diapers, yes?”
It makes her feel old just saying it. She doesn't know how Fernando does it.
Franco nods, pupils going dark.
“And…” she raises her left hand, eyes pointing to her wedding ring.
Franco smirks. “I don't mind if you don't.” He leans in for the kiss, and Checo leans back denying him. Too public. She's learned from that mistake. She does put her left hand on his nape, stroking it and praising the boldness. It's dangerous, sleeping with another driver. When you're a woman, it gives them too much power. That's why Checo never acted on Max's obvious interest. But Franco doesn't have a seat next year yet... as temporary and harmless to her prospects as it gets.
“Come on,” Franco’s voice betrays the frustration underneath the trying hard to be suave, “I know you're thinking it too. You'd rather be on a boat with me than this totally lame club. And what I might lack in experience, I can make up for in stamina.” He practically purrs in her ear.
“A boat? Williams is not paying you that much.” Checo laughs, even as she entertains the line about stamina. James is a penny pincher to a fault. And Franco might get F1 groupies impressed with that line, but as the primary breadwinner she knows a little better.
Franco’s undeterred. “Your boat then. I can be your yacht boy.”
Now wouldn't Checo love to be sunning on a boat, no kids running around, being waited on hand and foot by an eager, younger man who can go for round two in ten minutes. God, she hasn't been filled up in a satisfying way in so long, her cunt throbs at the fantasy, aided by the tall, warm body in front of her.
Checo bites her lower lip, and looks around. Nobody around them in paying attention to the dark corner they're in anymore. She takes Franco’s hand and places it over her breast, holding his gaze. For all his smooth-talking, Franco seems momentarily stunned, mouth parting in surprise. He has naturally red lips, Checo wants to bite on it. He tentatively squeezes her breast, and after seeing her nod, starts kneading it, thumb trying to find her nipple through the layers of her polo shirt and sports bra.
“Can I please eat you?” Franco’s voice is husky as he begs.
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4th-make-quail · 3 months ago
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IWTV Fic Recs - Old Man Daniel Focused
I've been meaning to put together a list somewhere for this, and since I just sent a bunch to someone, here it is finally! it's a mix of Armand/Daniel, Daniel/Louis, Armand/Daniel/Louis in various configurations - please enjoy!
if you read and enjoy these fics, please make sure to leave a comment for the authors on ao3!
Daniel/Louis
Conflict of Interest, by hereticas - T, 2000 words
Louis comes by Daniel's room the morning after they recover their memories of San Francisco.
Very very cute kissing post s02e05 fic!
Daniel/Louis, Daniel/Louis/Armand, Armand/Daniel, Armand/Louis (combo of all)
it seemed the thing to do (what made me think I could start clean slated?), by fastcarmp3 - E, 3900 words, WIP
Louis asked Daniel if he wanted to… now. It wasn’t an empty offer.
Danlou with Armand watching which is SMOKING HOT
Terza Rima, by nothing_but_paisley - E, 1700 words
Daniel finally gets what he came to Dubai for, but the aftermath brings even more questions.
INCREDIBLY hot threesome with stellar character voices, bit of Armand Voyeurism (THE GOOD SHITE), bit of Daniel being a slut for being bitten
That's It, Mr. Molloy, by anonymous - E, 4900 words
Daniel finds himself distracted, during the interview. Rashid comes to help, and invites Louis along, too. He snaps his gaze away, clearing his throat. “So, are we, uh…talking about that? Or…” “Talking?” Rashid cocks his head, amused. “Is that what you would like to do, Mr. Molloy? Talk?” As he speaks, he steps forward, walking Daniel backwards until his knees hit the edge of the bed. Daniel looks back, startled, as though he hadn’t realized he was moving, at all. “Won’t you sit down, Mr. Molloy?” Rashid asks, gesturing.
that old man gets PROPERLY FUCKED!! bit of a Rashid!Armand situation, bit of massage, very very hot
Push it away but it all comes back again, by butchybats - E, 5400 words
“'Let me get this straight. You left me for dead,' Daniel addresses Louis, who very pointedly does not make eye contact with him. This time Daniel turns slightly to face Armand. 'And you saved my life in the most erotic way possible?'” Or: All Daniel wants is to resume the interview like normal after finding out about the supposed "love of Louis' life". Louis and Armand have better plans.
Threesome sex VERY HOT (includes a bit of flashback to 70s era) with a really fucking excellent Daniel Voice!
Armand/Daniel
were the flowers orange?, by andrealyn - T, 6700 words
Years ago, Daniel cut out the love of his life to save himself from choking on tiger eye, daylily, bird of paradise. Now, in Dubai, suddenly the disease returns even though the only thing that's changed is Rashid became Armand. And yet, the flowers tell him something -- whoever he cut out is fighting like hell to be remembered.
Absolutely DEVASTATING hanahaki fic, this shit is really fucking good!!!
the fog eating the night, by tei - E, 3700 words
If Louis had wanted him alive, he'd have escorted him out himself. But he hadn't. He'd left Daniel standing there stunned, and walked out like none of this had mattered to him at all. Whether he meant to or not, Louis had given Daniel to Armand.
Very tasty post s02e08 turning fic! Really damn good Daniel Voice.
At Close of Day, by nothing_but_paisley - E, 1700 words
On a frigid Christmas night, Daniel and Armand celebrate being alone together as they explore their budding relationship.
Really hot with human!Daniel! A top Armand who absolutely ADORES him, it's very fucking cute
Only a Name, by nothing_but_paisley - E, 1500 words
In Dubai, Daniel is visited in dreams by an opinionated young man--but there's something terribly familiar about him.
More Rashid!Armand fic, very very fucking hot
strange mutations, by leavethebes - E, 11000 words
Armand’s done it to him once before—gored him through the stomach, gutted him like a fish, snipped his gills off, and drained him right down to the fluttering valves of his heart. Left Daniel little more than a shriveled husk of a person, and somehow Daniel is back here anyway, on his knees in front of Armand and begging for the oblivion that was promised.
Post s2 but before Armand turns Daniel, really fun Armand interfering in Daniel's life post-Dubai and another excellent Daniel Voice!
Devouring, by verimeru - Mature, comic
An 11-page IWTV (2022) fancomic about the vampire Armand facing his worst nightmare.
OUGH, MY FEELS.....
Daddy, by GreyGiantess & verimeru - Mature, comic
“What's with the face?” Daniel asked. Armand’s eyes widened slightly, which was probably meant to make him look innocent, but it only made The Face worse. “This is just my regular face, Daniel.” “Yeah, right. You’re up to something.” In which VERIMURU and GRAYGIANTESS team up to give you the Armandaniel age difference COMIC you didn't know you needed! Very loosely related to Baby.
VERY cute age difference comic with human Daniel! Appreciated him still having his parkinson's, and their relationship and dynamic is SO cute
whip in my valise, by firstaudrina - E, 3100 words
“I thought you weren’t coming back,” Armand said. “Yeah,” Daniel said, the word an aggravated pull. “Well.” Old Man Daniel goes to Night Island.
Very very good, VERY VERY HOT, excellent level of fucked up with some delicious voyeurism also
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lotstradamus · 4 months ago
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any chance for a spare old man daniel/armand fic rec? 🙏🏻🙏🏻🥺
in the details by infinitevariety - 'a turning point. immediately post-s2.'
hell is: by cannibalenthusiast - 'Daniel drinks another martini and a half, says, “You’re lucky I’m on blood thinners. I used to handle my liquor way better,” as he sets the unfinished drink on the table and offers Armand his arm again. Armand sits next to him this time, their bodies turned in toward each other as he cradles Daniel’s arm and drinks. The blood gives him a headrush, and he blinks rapidly to attempt to clear his vision. This time he leaves the wound for longer, lets blood drip down toward Daniel’s wrist before he laps it up. “Fuck,” Daniel murmurs as he watches. “That’s more like it.”'
I like your getup, if you know what I mean by cannibalenthusiast - 'His brain conjures the image of Rashid standing primly with a plush towel draped over his slim wrist. “For your jizz, Mister Molloy,” he says. Daniel snorts and spits onto his hand.'
the fog eating the night by tei - 'If Louis had wanted him alive, he'd have escorted him out himself. But he hadn't. He'd left Daniel standing there stunned, and walked out like none of this had mattered to him at all. Whether he meant to or not, Louis had given Daniel to Armand.'
old habits by tei - '"You're fucked up, you know that?" Daniel says. "Do you really like that shit? Or is it just a habit for you by now?"'
hell and you by quensty - 'With respect to Daniel’s life, pain in the ass is spelled A-R-M-A-N-D.'
strange mutations by leavethebes - 'Armand’s done it to him once before—gored him through the stomach, gutted him like a fish, snipped his gills off, and drained him right down to the fluttering valves of his heart. Left Daniel little more than a shriveled husk of a person, and somehow Daniel is back here anyway, on his knees in front of Armand and begging for the oblivion that was promised.'
you know that one tweet that's like 'iwtv is like porn for people who are into such weird shit that sex isn't even involved anymore?' yea
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eunoia-writes · 10 months ago
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Confessions • Felix Catton x Reader
Summery - after a night of drinking bottle after bottle of wine Felix makes a confession which spirals his and y/n’s life into a whirlwind of romance only to be momentarily put on hold due to his jealousy.
Warnings - Drinking, jealous!Felix, Felix being a bit of a dick, secret romance
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There was a soft humm of laughter from the other room while y/n walked into the dimly lit kitchen in search for the other wine bottles. She opened the fridge grabbing a bottle of Red and a bottle of white before she walked back into the living room where everyone was sat reminiscing on old summers stories. She placed the bottles down before sitting back down next to her friend, Farleigh.
“Y/n… do you remember that guy that put the love note your dorm letter box?” Indi said laughed as Felix groaned while y/n just nodded. Felix grabbed the bottle of red and topped up her glass before Turing to face his friend Indi.
“Can we not talk about this for the 100th time?” Felix asked
“Oh but why it was so adorable the way he fumbled over his words and laughed at everything y/n said.” Indi added
“Y/n doesn’t need someone who laughs at everything she says or can’t form a coherent sentence. Hell she’s smarter than all of us.”
y/n couldn’t help but blush slightly. Yes it was wrong and juvenile of her to he crushing on her friend who protects her no matter what cost.
“That’s real sweet of you, Fi.” Oh how he adored that nickname she gave him
“Anything for you.” He said looking at her for what could have been slightly too long
“We should really head off.” India said sharing a look with Felix y/n couldn’t quit read.
“We’ll see you guy tomorrow?” Felix said his arm wrapping around y/n’s waist. The pair had always been close and the physical touch of their relationship had never bothered either of them.
“Definitely we be here around 2.” Farleigh Said before the three of them made there way out of Felix’s flat
“Are you sure you don’t mind me staying?” y/n asked as she helped Him clear away a few things. Felix smiled
“you’re always welcome to stay here you know that.” Felix said pouring the last of the wine down the drain as y/n leaned against the counter
“What was that look Indi gave you about earlier?” y/n more asked him, he immediately stopped what he was doing and turned to her
“What do you mean?” He asked confused
“Fi, don’t do that you know exactly what I’m talking about.” She said as he moved closer to her
“Fine fine, she has been telling me how I should tell you that it wasn’t Daniel who wrote you that letter, it was me.” Felix said
“Fi that’s not funny.” She said looking up at him “come on tell me what it was.”
“Im being serious y/n, I had the biggest crush on you when we first came to Oxford.”
“oh come on that’s not true.” She said she didn’t realise how close they now were neither did he
“I still do.” he whispered
“Felix.”
“I always thought you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He whispered just inches away from her
“Stop it.”
“Y/n.”
“Felix.”
“That’s not funny.” Instead of saying another word Felix just leans in kissing her softly which she immediately reciprocates a surge of electricity coursed through them, igniting a passionate exchange that transcended words. Time seemed to halt as Felix pulled her impossibly close wanting nothing more than her close to him.
“Believe me now?”
The pair had been seeing each other for a while now they decided to keep it a secret knowing the complications of their loved ones finding out. They wanted it to be there’s and there’s only.
Felix, with a playful smile masking the excitement in his eyes, told Farleigh he was going for a run. This wasn’t anything new for him every so often Felix took himself off on a run to clear his head if Farleigh wasn’t so caught up in himself he’d of probably noticed the escalations in the amount of times his friend seemed to be disappearing. This worked in their favour though.
Felix jogged down familiar paths, exchanging pleasantries with others on campus as he made his way to the back road that was far less traveled by to the one place he craved to be.
"Hey there," Felix greeted, panting slightly from his faux jog. Y/n grinned, as he walked into her flat and straight over to her "Thought I could use some company for my workout ." They chuckled, finding solace in their secret rendezvous.
Things were going well for a while the two sharing nothing but pure unadulterated admiration of each other Beneath the facade of friendship, stolen glances and secret smiles told a tale of something deeper. Their perfect secret relationship thrived in the subtleties – a brush of hands, lingering gazes, and whispered confessions hidden amidst the mundane. The world remained oblivious to the symphony of emotions playing out beneath the surface, allowing Felix and y/n to savor the intimacy of their unspoken connection for themselves. Y/n adorned nothing more than the late nights in his arms talking about anything they could think of but what she hated most was waking up to an empty bed.
It had been almost three months of sneaking around before anything of great significance had its effect on them. All until the party at Farleighs new flings flat.
As they mingled at the party, Felix couldn't shake the knot of jealousy tightening in his chest. Y/n , unaware of Felix internal struggle, engaged in casual conversation with a charming boy named Jake. Felix gritted his teeth, feigning a smile while attempting to mask the possessiveness bubbling within. In a strained attempt at nonchalance when y/n returned to his side later that night, Felix remarked, "Jake seems pretty interested in you tonight."
Y/n, oblivious to the brewing tension, responded with a casual shrug, "Oh, he's just friendly."
Unable to contain his frustration any longer, Felix snapped, "Friendly? Or maybe you're enjoying the attention a bit too much, y/n." The words hung heavy in the air, and y/n's eyes widened with surprise and hurt.
"What's your problem?" Y/n shot back, her own defenses rising. Felix fuelled by the fear of losing y/n to the allure of someone else, retorted,
"My problem is that everyone thinks you're fair game. Maybe it's time they know the truth – that we're more than just friends."
Y/n now fully grasping the depth of Felix's jealousy, countered, "Are you threatening to expose us? You know we can't do that, Felix. Fuck me you were the one who wanted it to be a secret so bad." The argument escalated, echoing the clash between the passion they shared in secret and the turmoil of emotions exposed in the harsh light of reality.
“Oh fuck me y/n, maybe I wouldn’t have to say anything If you weren’t such an attention whore!”
“Excuse me!” She said through gritted teeth trying not to cause a scene
“Don’t play dumb, god forbid my attention is on something other than you for a moment you start acting like a brat.” Felix said and y/n couldn’t believe what she was hearing, how dare he talk to her this way. She wasn’t one of his little flings that only lived to please him. She had more respect for herself and wouldn’t bat an eyelid at leaving if he didn’t treat her the way she wanted.
“I don’t know where you get off speaking to me like that but you better cut that shit out.” She said tempers growing for the both of them
“God I could have anyone I wanted but I choose to be with you and do nothing if you -“ Felix began at this point it was soon to turn nasty between then
“No one asked you to do nothing.” She snapped
“Fuck off.” He mumbled under his breath pinching the bridge of his nose as she turned to look at him arms folded across her chest while they stood on the balcony
“I will fuck off, I told you do what you want Felix.” she was staring daggers at him while he let out a frustrated sigh there friends all a few feet away watching the whole ordeal go down not a single of of them having a clue what was happening.
“Like you wouldn’t go off at me if I even looked at anyone else!” He said usually if someone as tall as Felix was getting pissed off at you while towering over you it would be enough to intimate anyone, but not y/n. She wasn’t one to back down from an argument.
“Well I didn’t ask you not to, do what you fucking want. Talk to a few girls shag them for all I care I’ll just fucking laugh at ya.” She spat clearly pissed off at not only him but the thought of him touching anyone else made her skin crawl.
“Maybe I will!”
“You know what Felix, go fuck yourself.” Y/n almost yelled as she stormed out of the flat knowing he wouldn’t dare follow her.
The argument with Felix lingered in her mind like a relentless echo, leaving her overwhelmed with a torrent of conflicting emotions. As she stormed out into the night, the crisp air did little to cool the heat of frustration burning within her. The music and laughter from the party slowly faded, replaced by an unsettling silence that mirrored the void growing in her chest, each step marked by the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over, but she fought to maintain composure, not wanting to reveal her vulnerability to the indifferent darkness. The dimly lit streets witnessed the internal storm playing out on y/n’s face, the glow of streetlights casting shadows that mirrored the turmoil within. With each step, she found herself grappling with the realisation that the argument had not only fractured her connection with Felix but also exposed the fragility of the carefully constructed façade they had maintained.
Alone in the dark, y/n finally allowed herself to cry, the frustration and heartache escaping in silent sobs that mingled with the night's hushed symphony. The journey home became a painful pilgrimage through the shadows of her own unresolved emotions, the echoes of the argument haunting her every step.
Days passed in a heavy silence between Felix and y/n after their heated argument. Felix grappling with a mixture of regret and longing, found the absence of y/n more challenging than expected. Each passing moment without her presence heightened the ache in his heart. Felix had never felt this way before. No one had every evoked the same emotions from him that y/n does and the lack of communication became increasingly unbearable. Felix scrolled through old messages, the weight of the unsent apologies pressing down. Pride clashed with the undeniable truth – Felix missed y/n more than words could express. Swallowing the pride, He finally sent a hesitant message, "Can we talk?" The pause that followed felt like an eternity.
Y/n - Come over?
Felix shot up from his bed wasting no time rushing over to her flat rehearsing exactly what he wanted to say to her , everything from how sorry he was for the way he treat her and that he should have never spoke to her that way because he let his idiotic jealousy take the wheel to how stupid he feels for making her keep what they have a secret and how he wants nothing more than to shout it from the rough tops. However upon letting himself in with the key she’d given him not too long ago that all faded when He walked into the flat to find her curled up on the couch in his jumper and her beloved blanket she’s had for as long as he’s known her.
“Y/n.” He whispered as she stirred from her sleep while he sat down on the edge of the couch a few feet away from her
“Hi.” She said as she sat up rubbing her eyes slightly bringing her knees to her chest as she looked over at him
“I’m so sorry baby.” He began but before he could go on his tangent of how sorry he was and how much he adores her she whispered almost inaudibly
“Do you not trust me?” Felix felt his heart sink he hated that he’d upset her
“I do trust you baby, i was just being jealous I should have never taken it out on you.” He said cautiously moving closer to her not wanting to make her uncomfortable “I hate the idea of someone else looking at you the way I do, the idea of you making someone feel the same way you make me feel.”
“I’d never do that intentionally.” She said looking at him with her big do eyes that made him melt the same why they did when he first saw her
“I know… I’m so sorry for speaking to you like that and I’m so sorry for making you keep us a secret.” He told her as she shuffled closer to him letting him pull her into his lap
“What?” She asked confused
“You’re my girl, and I want no I need everyone to know that.” He told her and she couldn’t help but smile. Felix had never outright claimed anyone so y/n couldn’t help but feel special that she was the first
“But Fi, I don’t want you to feel like you have too… baby come on it’s about time I tell my parents and everyone else you’re my girlfriend.” Felix watched the way her eyes lit up as he said that word
“Girlfriend?” she whispered while Felix just nodded leaning in to kiss her softly “I like that.” She mumbled into the kiss
“Missed you.” He whispered as he pulled away
“I missed you too, I’ve hardly slept not having you here next to me.” Felix let out a sigh of relief knowing that she missed him just as much as he missed her.
“Then let’s get you to bed, yeah?” Felix scooped her up carrying her into her bedroom just as he had done so many nights before. In one swift motion he laid her down before crawling beside her and letting her get comfortable as she found her place on his chest.
“Y/n.” He whispered his hand running through her hair. It took her a few seconds to hum in response but he didn’t mind “I love you.” He said the words lingering in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Y/n absorbed the sweet declaration like a lullaby. The words wrapped around her like a comforting embrace, and a tender smile played on her lips as sleep gently claimed her. In that moment, the room held the echo of those three precious words, affirming what they both already knew before they both drifted into the night.
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pucksandpower · 1 year ago
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is there a possibility of a part two on the mv1 vegas wedding, perhaps how they might have church wedding ? 🥹🥹 it was just so sickly sweet, i cant get enough of it 🤧🫶
There is definitely a possibility of a part two (though this is a little shorter than my usual work so we can also just call it a second epilogue)
Read part one here: What Happens in Vegas
You stand in front of the floor length mirror, smoothing your hands over the flowing white dress. Today you’re finally getting the real wedding you missed out on during that wild night in Vegas.
A pair of tiny hands suddenly grab at the tulle skirts of your dress. You look down to see your flower girl and daughter, two-year-old Vega, grinning up at you.
“Mama pwetty!” She declares. You scoop her up and kiss her cherub cheek.
“Why thank you, my love! But not as pretty as you in your special dress.”
Vega giggles and squirms to be put down so she can toddle around in her poufy flower girl outfit. You take a deep breath, heart swelling with love for your family.
A knock at the door announces your father’s arrival. “Knock knock! Ready to go become Mrs. Verstappen again?”
You take Vega’s hand and turn to your dad with a radiant smile. “Absolutely. How do I look?”
Your father presses a hand to his heart. “Oh honey ... you look absolutely beautiful. Max is going to bawl his eyes out.”
You laugh, feeling a few happy tears prick your own eyes. “Let’s just hope that Daniel doesn’t mess up his lines too badly. Did you see the Elvis costume he was begging to wear?”
Your father chuckles. “Don’t worry, I talked him into a normal tux. He promised to be on his most professional behavior as officiant today.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” you joke. “Really though, thank you for standing by me through all the craziness these past few years. I’m so glad we’re finally doing this for real.”
He pulls you into a careful hug so as not to wrinkle your dress. “I’m just so happy for you and Max. Now come on, let’s get you married again!”
The ceremony is being held outside at a gorgeous vineyard, rows of vines dripping with grapes serving as the perfect backdrop. Your heartbeat quickens as the music swells and Vega heads down the aisle, haphazardly tossing rose petals from her little basket.
Then it’s your turn.
On your father’s arm, you glide towards the floral archway where a nervous but beaming Max waits. The love shining from his eyes when he sees you takes your breath away all over again.
Daniel stands at his side looking polished in his suit, though his hair maintains its signature wild curls. He winks at you as you take your place across from Max beneath the arch.
“Family and friends,” Daniel begins, “we are gathered here today to witness the renewal of vows between Y/N and Max. Their first wedding may have been, shall we say, unconventional—”
“You mean drunk and hasty!” Someone calls out. Laughter ripples through the guests.
Daniel grins. “Yes, thank you Lando. But today we celebrate Y/N and Max formalizing their union after three wonderful years of marriage.”
He turns to Max. “Do you, Max, reaffirm your vow to love and cherish Y/N as your lawfully wedded wife, in plenty and want, in joy and sorrow, so long as you both shall live?”
Max gazes into your eyes. “I do, absolutely.”
Daniel repeats the question to you. You blink back joyful tears. “I do, with all my heart.”
“Wonderful!” Daniel says. “Now, the couple has prepared their own vows to share today.”
He gestures to Max, who clears his throat and takes both your hands in his.
“Y/N, that crazy night in Vegas, I never could have imagined where it would lead us. The past two years as your husband have been the best of my life. Every day with you and our daughter is a gift.”
Max’s voice cracks with emotion. “You are my rock, my inspiration, my very best friend. Thank you for taking a chance on me then and choosing to recommit to our partnership today.”
He dabs at his eyes as Daniel prompts you for your vows. You have to take a steadying breath around the balloon of love swelling in your chest.
“Max, what can I say? You’ve turned this reckless whim into the love story of a lifetime. Being your wife and mother of your child are the greatest honors I could imagine.”
You squeeze his hands, voice thick with feeling. “You challenge me, support me, and make me laugh and love more than I ever thought possible every single day. I vow to keep racing into the future with you by my side.”
There’s not a dry eye left as Daniel concludes the ceremony. “By the power vested in me by BecomeAnOfficiantIn20Minutes dot com, I now pronounce you man and wife … again!”
Max sweeps you into a deep kiss as your loved ones erupt into cheers. Vega toddles up to tug on your dress, wanting in on the family hug. You scoop her up and press kisses all over her face as Max wraps his arms around you both.
It’s a perfect moment.
The reception is a joyful and hilarious blur. At one point Max pulls you aside, nodding to where Vega is passed out in her godfather Christian’s arms after tiring herself out dancing.
“Can you believe we made that perfect little girl together?” Max murmurs.
You shake your head wonderingly. “She’s the best surprise to come out of that crazy night.”
Max kisses your temple. “I would marry you a hundred more times if it means I got to relive this journey with you over and over.”
You lean into him contentedly. However unorthodox the start of your relationship was, you’ve built an incredible life together.
And it’s only just beginning.
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and-so-he-rambled · 6 months ago
Text
“Oh Bats, are you losing your touch?”
(Gotham Rogue Vlad Masters) Masterlist
Vlad was definitely gloating as he cocked his hip and leaned against the roof access door of the building. Bruce had been chasing him all across the city, having much less luck than usual ever since Vlad’s powers had started getting stronger. He still didn’t dare change forms since Daniel’s death day weeks earlier, both for not tipping his hand and being unsure if he was strong enough to maintain it yet, but he could feel his former strength returning. The wound in his shoulder was starting to heal properly now that they had access to ectoplasm.
He tauntingly swung the artifact in front of him, a necklace from a private collection that one of his old contacts had asked him to track down. Getting in and out had been easy, using the cheat of his intangibility to get in without tripping an alarm. He did however somehow manage to set off the silent alarm as he was leaving, what an unfortunate oversight that would surely lure in a bat.
Batman glared at him, breathing heavier than usual. Vlad was becoming more and more sure each day that he wasn’t truly human, able to keep up with a half ghost across the city. Vlad hadn’t made it easy for him for both their sakes, he needed the exercise and the Bat needed his lovely company. He’d kept things fun by shorting out the bats comm line occasionally, but not so much that he would catch on that Vlad was the cause. It really did ruin so much of the fun to have a voice in your ear helping out.
“Badger.” The hero snarled, taking a step forward.
Vlad smirked, twirling the necklace around his clawed finger and dancing out of reach. And Daniel said ballroom was a useless skill!
“Ah, ah, not my name.” He didn’t always use the Honey Badger moniker, but it had its uses. Batman glared harder, forcing his next words through grit teeth.
“Honey-“
“Yes dear?”
Vlad cackled as Batman frowned harder, tossing the necklace up and snatching it back out of the air before making it disappear from sight. In reality it was stored inside Vlad’s arm, but the Bat didn’t know that.
“Oh, guess it’s gone!” Vlad smirked, taking a swaggering step forward with his hands out to show his empty palms, long metal claws glinting. He invaded the Bat’s space, their chests nearly touching as he growled playfully. What? He was allowed to have a little fun!
“You going to search me for it?”
Batman grabbed his wrist, pulling it away from where it had strayed close to his utility belt.
“You going to make me?” Vlad was unable to help the low purr in his chest.
“Maybe I-“
“Unhand Honey Badger!”
Both men froze as a tiny voice yelled, heads turning to watch a tiny body executed a perfect flip, only to stumble as he landed.
Daniel stood in all his tiny glory, smiling up at him with sharp teeth. He was wearing his own version of the Badger outfit, with white markings down the eyes of his cowl and gauntlets that ended in claws, but Vlad could see stars twinkling in the black fabric. It appeared Daniel had discovered how to change the outfit of his ghost half.
“Little Badger.” Vlad hissed, stalking away from Batman and making sure he was a barrier between Daniel and the Bat. “What are you doing here?”
“Helping you fight Batman! Did you steal something? Can I see? Can I help next time?” The white lenses of Daniel’s cowl widened, a tinge of glowing green behind them.
“I was explicitly clear that you are not ready yet, was I not?” Vlad glanced at Batman, who was watching them, and switched to ghost speak. Daniel was hardly fluent yet, but he could understand it well enough. ‘Where is your sister? How did you find me? I thought you hated stealing!’
“I do! But sometimes people do bad things for good reasons!” Daniel repeated his first lesson proudly and in English. “Besides, you said Batman is a weirdo and we can be mean to him.”
“Badger, is this child… acquainted with you?”
Vlad sniffed, turning up his nose.
“I don’t see how that’s your business. Perhaps I’ve taken a page out of your book.” He glanced at Daniel’s shoddy costume and back to Batman. “At least mine wears pants.”
Batman glowered at him, Vlad’s hearing picking up staticky laughter from his comms. His hearing was growing sharper and better as well now. He hadn’t picked up anything useful from Bat’s comms yet, as he rarely got close enough to listen for long and they used code names, but he gladly kept this skill hidden for when it would have its uses.
Just as the great Bat went to offer whatever defense he had for his Robin occasionally wearing honest to ancients booty shorts the boy himself landed on the roof. It seems he’d decided to actually join the party this time. He usually made himself scarce when Vlad and the Bat had their moments.
“Hey, they’re comfy! I didn’t know bad guys had sidekicks too, if he my new nemesis? Kinda short.” Robin smiled confidently at the younger child.
The two children stared at each other for a long moment before Daniel turned to Vlad.
“Can I fight him? Can I? Can I? I’ve been training with J- WildCat!”
“Cub, you are not ready to face Robin yet.” Not without using his powers and blowing their secret.
“Just a little? Pleaaase?”
Vlad glanced at Batman before sighing heavily, shoulders sagging.
“Just for a moment.” Sue him, he wanted to know how Daniel would fare in a real fight. He trusted Robin wouldn’t hurt him severely, and that Batman knew he wasn’t above revenge on his cub’s behalf.
“But he’s a toddler!” Robin protested, gesturing at the young child. “How do we start? Witty banter?”
The Badger Cub had been training with Vlad and Jazz daily, but his training was far different than theirs. Vlad was teaching Jazz acrobatics and the art of thievery, but Daniel had been learning simply how to survive by any means necessary.
Which was why he dropped down to all fours, let out a terrifying snarl, and ran at the young hero full force. Vlad watched in delight as Robin screamed, the kindergartener launching up at him.
He easily dodged Batman’s attack, twirling out of reach with a laugh.
“Honestly Batman, so impatient. Can’t keep your hands off me, can’t you see I’m watching the children play?”
Daniel, to his credit, was doing very good for a five year old. He was using every dirty trick Vlad had taught him, and a few he’d come up with on his own.
“What is wrong with this kid! Owowow, he’s biting me! Who does that?!” Robin shook his arm as he tried to pry it from the child’s jaws.
“Badger! What did I say about biting? Release! You don’t know where that boy has been!” Vlad flipped out of Batman’s reach with a slight boost from flight, kicking him in the chest as he did.
The cub unlocked his jaw and skittered away, still on all fours and growling.
“I promise he’s had his shots.”
Vlad’s comm came alive with a crackle, Jazz’s terrified voice coming over the line.
‘I can’t find Dan- Baby Badger! I woke up and he’s gone!’ The girl sobbed in a panic, hiccuping. Daniel went stiff, staring at Vlad with wide eyes as his sensitive ears picked up the words.
“I have him, WildCat. We’ll be returning momentarily, he is unharmed.” He assured her, scooping the child up under one arm. Batman and Robin began to drift to the sides, likely trying to box him in.
“You’re not going anywhere, Honey Badger.”
“Actually I am!” Vlad cheerily yelled as he released a cloud of thick smoke from a port in his glove, turning invisible and running as the Bats closed in.
“Cub, you are going to be grounded until you’re thirty.” He snarled to his adopted son as they dashed across buildings and through shadows. “But, I am proud of how well you did. Perhaps one day you can join me.” He wanted better for his kids, but he also knew that there wasn’t much of a life for them outside of the shadows. A secret part of him hoped Daniel would do good like he always wanted instead of becoming a thief like him and Jazz, but he’d let the child choose that path himself.
Jazz was a mess when they finally phased through the apartment wall, snatching her brother and hugging him through sobs. Once she’d recovered she began to scream at him, shaking the boy until Vlad stepped in.
Daniel passed out immediately once he changed back, happy as could be and unworried about the punishment that awaited him.
Vlad left the bedroom to find Jazz on the couch, staring at her hand. She was wearing one of her gauntlets, the metal gloves Vlad had made her for self defense. They normally stayed as simple bracelets, but she could activate them as needed. She’d designed them herself when Vlad had taught her the lesson of scratching the eyes out of anyone who tried to take her.
“What’s on your mind, Jasmine?” He sat down on the threadbare couch beside her.
The redhead sighed, bumping their shoulders together as she leaned against him. He activated the second gauntlet with a flick of her wrist, tapping the metal claws together idly.
“I know it’s stupid, but I guess I wanted to be the one to go with you first.” Vlad looked at his adoptive daughter, cataloguing every scar and stress line. She’d aged so much in the last year. He knew she wanted to follow in his footsteps and provide for them, but Daniel would always tether her. It was Vlad’s fault for putting so much of Daniel’s care on her shoulders when he’d promised himself he wouldn’t, but they had never had other options. Daniel was just too young, too special, too reckless.
“I’ll tell you what.” Jazz looked at him with sad bit curious eyes. “Let’s make a deal.”
“What?”
“Keep up with your training and prove to me you can handle yourself, and we’ll get Daniel a sitter so you can pull a job with me. After I know you can take care of yourself I’ll watch Daniel so you can go out.” He’d been hesitant on sending a seven year old girl out into Gotham, but Jazz was improving leaps and bounds each day. She enjoyed challenging herself and improving, and Vlad was confident she would be a capable thief someday.
“Really? Thank you!” She threw her arms around him, claws tearing into the couch and nearly missing Vlad.
“Yes, yes.” Vlad pat the girls head, allowing the tight hug. He wasn’t a touchy person unless it was specific people, and Jazz was special. She was allowed in his personal space. Daniel allowed himself in everyone’s personal space.
“We do need to teach Daniel some actual fighting techniques now. He was a tad feral tonight.”
——
I love Feral Danny Fenton. This fic needs more of it, I’ve written Daniel as an inconvenience more than a child so far, so I wanted to let him shine a bit by causing some chaos
Also Bruce definitely suspected Vlad (or ‘David’ lol) was the new rogue, but this definitely confirms it. A child with the exact height and voice as his son appeared.
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starry-bi-sky · 7 months ago
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im having more fem Danyal thoughts. But specifically I've been thinking about Dani in this au. Now, Fem Danyal is just the alt. version of Danny to my other DAG au, which means she follows that lore. that being said. Danyal and Dani already had a pretty rocky introduction in the first place, ANd if we follow canon's setup, Dani in fem!Danyal's world would be a boy rather than a girl. I'm gonna call him Ali for easier difference (my train of thought was Daniel -> Eli -> Ali). While Danny may resemble Talia more than Bruce, Danny and Damian still look very similar to each other. Their blood relation is unquestionable.
You can imagine how fem Danyal might feel, walking into her room one day after school, and finding a little boy on her bed who looks, at first glance, like the little brother she loves to death. If meeting Ellie triggered Kill Bill Sirens in Danny's head, meeting Ali bass boosted them. For a terrifying, fleeting moment, Danny thinks Damian is right there. That somehow, her clever, intelligent little brother found out she was alive and tracked her down.
She slams the door shut, completely at a loss for words. Her heart has nearly stopped a second time. Then she realizes: this boy's eyes are blue. Not green. He looks too old to be her brother. His jawline too narrow, his hair too messy. As he talks, his voice is not the same as the sparse few videos on the internet showing Damian speaking. This is not the child she helped take his first steps with, nor the child she watched utter his first words. This is not the boy whom she taught to pick up a sword; this is not her brother.
Safe to say, Ali gets a knife pulled on him much, much faster than his female counterpart did. He lives, fortunately, but their relationship is unsteady and rocky even after Ali betrays Vlad and joins Danny.
Danny is unsettled by him, not for being her clone -- although that plays a minor part -- but because every time he drifts into her peripherals, she keeps thinking it's Damian. And it spooks her half out of her mind. She gets her hopes up at the same time her heart drops, then she turns her head, and it's not Damian; it's Dani.
It's also why she won't call him 'Dani', it's one letter too close to 'Dami' and she's afraid she'll call him that if she's not careful. So when he brings it up jokingly, she immediately shoots it down; "I'll call you Eli." instead. (Ali thinks she's boring -- he thought 'danny with a y' and 'dani with an i' was funny. Frankly, so did Danny, but she's too uncomfortable with the idea of calling him Dani.)
When he asks her why, she lies and says it's to prevent confusion. When their relationship is better, "Eli" eventually becomes "Ali".
("Why Ali?" he'll ask her, with an ear pressed against her ribs while Danny coils one of his curls around her finger. She's steadily become more and more affectionate; Danny has the impeccable ability of making it seem so forced and stiff and natural at the same time.)
("Do you not like it?" She'll ask him, voice stilted and unsure. She's got her heart in her throat, but she's starting to stop seeing Damian whenever she looks down. "We can keep it Eli if you'd like.")
("No, no. I like it. Just... why Ali? Does it mean anything?")
(Danny will smooth her palm over Ali's forehead, scratching his hairline with her nails, and feel embarrassed. She'll be silent until he looks up at her, and then she clears her throat. "It means eminent; exalted; noble.")
(Ali stares at her in dead silence, long enough that she starts to grow worried. Then tears bubble up in his eyes, and for a moment Danny thinks she said something wrong. "I lied;" he croaks, "I love it.")
(She will hesitate, and then wipe the tears off with her thumbs. "Ali al Ghul," she'll mutter, "but that name is for you and I only. To the world, you're Ali Fenton." Perhaps she shouldn't be giving him her mother's last name, but he is of her blood now too.)
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queenshelby · 13 days ago
Text
The Peaky Role (Part Eight)
Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader
Warning: Age Gap, Best Friend's Dad, Some Smu
CILLIAN'S POV
Later that day, at Cillian's house, during dinner, laughter and chatter filled the air as Nina, Cillian, and her siblings gathered around the table while Danielle had gone away for the weekend.
The aroma of roasted vegetables and herbs wafted through the kitchen, mingling with the sound of silverware clinking against plates after Cillian had prepared dinner. Making dinner was a ritual for him, a way to channel the noise of the world into something quiet and nourishing.
"What's for dessert?" Cillian's son, Max, asked, his eyes wide with hope as he pushed his plate away, his stomach still rumbling with anticipation.
“It's a surprise," Cillian grinned before diving into a serving of broccoli.
Nina raised an eyebrow, playfully skeptical. “Please let it be chocolate pudding. If it’s anything like the last time, I might cry.”
Cillian chuckled, a hint of mischief sparkling in his blue eyes. “Oh come on, my creme brûlée was a culinary masterpiece!"
Nina rolled her eyes dramatically. “Masterpiece? That was more like an abomination!" she teased Cillian feigned offense, dramatically clutching his chest.
"Now eat your vegtables guys, otherwise you won't be having dessert," he warned, adopting the classic 'dad voice' that made his children giggle.
"What is the dessert though, dad? I want to make sure me eating the broccoli is worth it," Max demanded, a playful grin on his face.
Cillian leaned back with amusement. "I just bought magnums," he announced, grinning as his kids cheered in unison, letting out whoops of joy that echoed off the walls, seeing how this was their favourite.
After dinner, Nina helped Cillian clear the table while her siblings rushed toward the living room, their excitement palpable as they imagined the sweet reward to come.
“Dad, can I ask you something?” Nina asked as she stacked some dishes into the dishwasher.
Cillian turned, wiping his hands on a towel. “Of course, what is it?” he asked, his brow furrowed slightly, concern flickering in his blue eyes.
Nina shifted, glancing toward the livingroom where her siblings had settled into the couch, their animated voices filling the room as they debated what movie to watch.
"I had breakfast with Y/N today, you know?” she said, biting her lip as she felt the weight of both her concern and her curiosity.
Cillian’s expression darkened slightly. “And?" he asked with a mixture of fatherly instinct and curiosity swirling within him.
“She is going through a little rough patch with her boyfriend,” Nina confessed, crossing her arms tighter, as if warding off any impending judgment. “And I was just wondering whether you could cut her some slack next week on set in case things take a turn for the worse.”
Cillian’s expression softened, understanding intersecting with concern. “Is James being... difficult again?” he asked as he shifted his weight, leaning against the counter, exuding an air of protective authority.
He had met him a few times before, at your house and it was no secret to him that the two of you were having problems.
“Ugh, you wouldn't believe it," Nina said, rolling her eyes. "He keeps hounding her about driving down to Cork to see him, like it’s the end of the world if she doesn’t drop everything. I mean, she is only here for the weekend and he expects her to drive down there to see him. She should just dump him, don't you think?" she continued, exasperation creeping into her voice.
Cillian frowned, his expression turning serious. "Well, she’s got a career to think about. This is an important time for her," he said, feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over him. "But in the end of the day, what she does with her life is her choice and it doesn't matter what either of us think about it.”
Nina huffed, pushing back a piece of hair that had escaped her ponytail. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re… well, old...," Nina shot back, trying to point out that he was at a different stage of life than her and you.
Cillian raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “Old?” he repeated, pretending to be offended. “I prefer ‘seasoned’,” he quipped, arching an eyebrow. “But seriously, you’ve got to let her figure this one out for herself. She is a smart young woman and, if shit does hit the fan, then I am quite certain that she will still perform on set," Cillian added, his tone shifting from playful to earnest. “She’s got enough talent for that,” he continued, hands tucked into his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe.
Nina sighed deeply before nodding. "I just wanted you to be aware so that you can keep an eye on her. You know, in case she needs someone to talk to and she said that you are the only one she knows. She can be a bit stubborn about these things.”
“Stubborn, huh?” Cillian chuckled, his eyes glinting with humor. “I've noticed quite a bit of that lately and I can tell you that she doesn't really socialise much on set either," he admitted before pushing off the counter, leaning slightly closer. “But yeah, I will keep an eye on her at work, just in case."
Nina relaxed a little, her shoulders dropping. “Thanks, Dad," she then said, a small smile breaking through her earlier tension. “That means a lot. Just… don’t be too dad-like."
Cillian laughed and held his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright!" he said, his grin breaking through the tension before finishing up the dishes.
After Cillian and Nina cleaned up, they both settled down with Nina's siblings on the couch, where the kids had already searched through a selection of films, finally deciding on a light-hearted adventure flick.
After the movies everyone then went to their room, calling it a night and as they retreated to their bedrooms, the hallway filled with the soft sounds of yawning and shuffling.
Cillian, too, was tired after such a full day, but sleep eluded him. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, shadows shifting as the moonlight filtered through the curtains.
Just like the last two nights, thouughts of you crept into his mind, swirling around like leaves caught in a storm. Your laughter, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about music, and that moment on the plane when you clutched his hand as turbulence rattled through the cabin like a rogue wave. He replayed the feel of your small fingers wrapped around his, the warmth of your palm breaking through the chill of the flight.
“Damn,” he muttered quietly to himself, shifting beneath the covers as he tried to banish the thoughts. What was happening to him? The questions looped in Cillian's mind like an endless song, each note tinged with an unsettling mix of desire and confusion. He turned over, seeking comfort in the familiar folds of his sheets that, instead, felt like a prison, reminding him of all the boundaries he was treading on and, just as he almost managed to drift off, the memory of your sscene together interrupted the silence in his mind—an image he couldn't shake.
You, atop him, the softness of your skin brushed with the innocent thrill of pretending. The awkwardness of it all felt like a double-edged sword; on one hand, it was simply acting, something he had done countless times before, yet on the other, it struck a nerve deeper than any role had.
The sound of your moans floated through his mind, echoing against the walls of his memory like a haunting melody. He pictured the way your hair cascaded over your bare breasts, with each adjustment made by the crew, the intimacy of the moment growing more palpable. He could almost feel the heat radiating from your skin as you leaned closer, teasing him with a hint of vulnerability and just like that, Cillian felt the weight of it—an undeniable pull toward you that tethered him to his own desires and unease.
For the past few nights, he had managed to push away those thoughts, silencing them under the guise of exhaustion, but now, in the stillness of his room, this desire he had was all too raw, too real.
He imagined what it would be like to touch you, to taste your lips as he covered your body with his own. He imagined what  you would feel like beneath him, your body trembling and arching against his as he entered you, your moans and gasps matching his own. His pulse quickened as he pictured the look of pure ecstasy on your face, your eyes alight with desire and satisfaction.
The vision was almost too much for him to bear, his hand sliding down towards his boxers  as his body responded in kind.
He closed his eyes, imagining your fingers brushing against the bulge in his briefs, the fabric straining against him as you stroked him, drawing him in, fueling his need for you.
Cillian groaned, letting out a string of swear words as he felt himself getting harder, and he knew that he had to relieve himself  . With one swift motion, he pushed his boxers down, his throbbing erection springing free.
In the dark solitude of his room, he let his imagination take over, picturing you in front of him, wanting him as much as he wanted you.
"Fuck," he moaned, taking himself into his hand and stroking slowly, building up the tension that already coursed through his veins. He could almost smell your hair or feel its silky softness between his fingers.
His mind had become his worst enemy, but he couldn’t help it––he imagined you begging for it, your body exposed under the soft glow of his bedside lamp.
Slowly, he began to get lost in the fantasy, his breaths getting heavy as he stroked himself faster, imagining the shape of your hips and waist beneath his hands.
“God,” he murmured to himself, the thought of being inside you setting his body on fire. He couldn’t stop himself, his mouth spilling obscenities as he grew closer to release.
“This is fucking killing me!" he whispered,  the words thick with frustration. His grip on his cock tightened erratically, jerking and twisting in a desperate attempt to escape the agony.
Cillian moved his head from side to side, muttering curses, a cocktail of expletives and obscenities slipping from his lips as he let loose a tirade of anger and intense need. He felt like a caged animal, the tension building up inside him until he neared the point of explosion.
Nearing his own climax, Cillian bit his lip, groaning deeply as he moved his hand faster over his cock. His hips bucked, grinding up against his fist as he felt his cock pulsing with anticipation.
His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, the anticipation overwhelming him as he finally let go, surrendering to the blinding orgasm that spilled forth. 
"Fuck !" he cried out, his voice echoing in the dark room as ropes of cum shot from his cock, painting a messy pattern on his stomach, leaving him spent and dizzy.
For a while, Cillian just lay there in the dark, his mind abuzz with what had just happened. His heart raced, his breaths still coming in hot, heavy pants, the sweat drying on his skin in the cold air.
As the initial rush subsided, a wave of guilt and shame crashed over him, more potent than the waves on the nearby beaches.
Cillian felt disgusted with himself, hating that he couldn't control his desires for you.
"Fuck," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut.
"What the hell am I doing?" He couldn't believe he had just done that - allowed his mind to wander to a place it shouldn't, giving in to desires that could never be realized.
He got up and walked to the bathroom, turning on the light and gazing at his reflection in the mirror. His face was flushed, eyes glazed over, and he looked like a man possessed. He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face, trying to snap out of it. "Get it together, man," he told himself sternly.
He wiped his face dry with a towel and looked back at the bed, his thoughts still swirling with images of you, his daughter's best friend and his best friend's daughter. "We can't do this," he whispered aloud, "we just can't,'" he murmured  to himself, thinking about the potential consequences.
The guilt lingered, but the desire that had awakened in him was not so easily tamed. He knew he should resist, that it was wrong. He was married and you were, most certainly, off limits. 
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