#you have to be so nice to me about my book right now. I am on my fourth round of thumbnail edits. I am fragile like an egg
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tempo-tales · 3 days ago
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"I see, but I'm glad the tradition will continue in future generations."
The subject of the mysterious WonderWatch is almost concluded for Tempo, as more information is needed to understand how it works, but the help of the two watchmakers has been much more useful than she imagined. The maestro accompanies the men to return them to their rightful place. The first went to Yejun, where Tempo, with a whistle, a door appears in the middle of the great tower under construction.
"Sun-Yejun, your destiny here was to pass the balance test with Balan, but because of your ill-intentioned criminal action, judged by me you were to proceed, but already the situation worsened by stealing my watch."
"I'm sorry, miss" - he regrets with his head down.
"I forgive you, but not the rules of WonderWorld. So unfortunately you will no longer be able to return here until a possible new life. Your Humanity was already admonished in this world, so, at least you have Tale here.
"Tale?"
"The Tales of WonderWorld"-Dominic interjects in the conversation-"They are those books that keep the history of our lives, that's what Balan said."
"I see..." The interested Yejun mutters.
"You won something. But...your evolution has deserved something...you know" The maestro of Opportunity mentions with a little pride in her "Thank you very much, Alicia...no, Tempo."
"I hope your dreams come true, you still have time, for changes to come."
The man waves goodbye gently waving his hands as he walks to the door. Once he enters it, it closes and disappears.
Now, only the two of them were left, and Tempo with a snap, opens a hole.
"Mr. Dominic, I am very grateful for your patience. You shouldn't have been involved, but you helped both me and Yejun."
"Forgive the intrusion, but... that earring..." The old man brings his fingers close to the jewel.
"Ah? This one? This, I'd like to take it out, but I can't."
"You wouldn't mind if I checked it."
"All right."
The tall lady bends down, pulls her long hair back and the old man, with his monocle checks the earring in Tempo's right ear.
"No doubt about it...that's the earring my great-grandfather created."
"Huh?"
"Mmmm...I bet you got it from some relative of mine."
"Emmm...from my best friend...but, I lost the other one."
"I see, but I'm glad the tradition will continue in future generations."
"ª? What's that about?
"This jewel is made of a rare material of unknown provenance. He says it comes from a meteorite that fell on the house of an ancestor of mine. My great-grandfather created these earrings as a sign of marriage commitment. Ah, and now my eldest son gave them as a gift to his fiancée, and so it will be for the next generations."
Tempo, analyzing, realizes that Christopher is actually Dominic's direct descendant, since Guido, gave the earrings earlier to Lia, as a symbol of engagement without her knowledge. Tempo's white face blushes completely.
"Hahaha, so your boyfriend is my future direct relative?" What a coincidence, no?"
"No-no!!! He's my best friend...I guess...ah! He, he just gave them to me when we were kids!"
The old man pats the maestro's arm, looking at her proudly.
"Miss, I'm sure this boy still loves you. According to my intuition, there will be a time when the two of you will be reunited."
"Don't say that, if I see him...then, something bad will happen to him...and..."
"Oh? So it's a bad omen?"
"No, no. Well, it depends... mostly worse things happen when someone comes to my aid."
"If so, I know you'll help him, and try to talk to him if you want to so much."
"Mr. Dominic"-the girl sighs with disappointment-" I'm Tempo now. The Alicia you knew has already come to an end once a deal was taken. My mission will only be to help the visitors if it becomes possible."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Huh?"
"We'll let fate take its course, we'll be very excited to see."
"Excited?"-Tempo frowns in doubt before the old man's words.
"I retire to my stage, to my time. It was nice to hear that you are well. And...please make me forget everything that happened here. I don't want your past self and myself to feel confusion unintentionally."
"I will. May you be happy, in what's left of your life, sir."
"My pleasure, my dear lady. And I hope you find happiness with the man you love, my distant descendant."
"..."
The old man walks to the portal and disappears.
Tempo, heads for La Madriguera. Once seated in the tree where she always usually is, she sings while many tears turned Drops fall from her eyes, following the same circle of melancholy of a Maestro of Opportunity.
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changenameno · 2 days ago
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Sugarplum, then?
(One-Shot)
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Summary: Back in the day your dad’s been in the military, where he met most of his long term friends, including Syverson. He apparently was his best friend, though you’ve never met him. Well, until now…
 
Pairing: Sy x Fem. Reader
Warnings: MDNI, 18+, older man x younger woman (off age though! reader is attending college), praise kink, pet names, teasing, reader is a brat, rough sex, slapping and choking, p in v
Word Count: 2.7K
 
A/N: Okay this was honestly quite spontaneous, buuut Dad’s best friend aka Sy did just NOT leave my mind, so here we go. This is FLITHY, you’ve been warned. Any mistakes are my own. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! Enjoy ;) ❤️✨
!Syverson is not my creation!
 
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When you came home, you could hear loud laughter, coming from the living room. At first you thought your parents had invited over the neighbours once more. But when you put your jacket on a hanger listening in closer, you noticed the southern drawl as the deep rumbling voice continued to tell a story.
 
 
You didn’t recognise that voice? Though it certainly didn’t belong to one of your neighbours. Curious, you peeked around the corner into the living room. There at the dinner table your parents sat with their backs turned to you, and in front of them was a bearded man, burly arms crossed. His imposing form, clearly meant that he wasn’t just big, sitting down. You could only guess, but as you had seen quite a few military men over the years he had to be one, estimated by his demeanour alone.
 
 
As your eyes moved over every bulging muscle you could make out from where you stood, they finally landed on his face. His dark beard looked well-groomed, framing his plush lips, then his pearly whites were on display as he grinned. That made you look up and sure enough his blue eyes were already focused on your face.
 
 
Heartbeat picking up, as his smile widened into a shit-eating-grin, he had caught you blatantly staring at him. A brief nod from him, made your presence known to your parents as well, they turned in their seats and your mother chided right away, “Oh you could have announced yourself know? Come and say hello to our guest!”
 
 
You didn’t really have much of a choice, so you reluctantly entered the room, greeting the man opposite your dad, “Um, hello…nice to meet you, um… Sir?”
 
 
A smug look replaced his grin, when he answered, “Well, no need to call me Sir, kiddo. Sy ‘s fine, too.”
 
 
You wanted to huff at the dumb nickname, but held back, to avoid making this anymore awkward than it already was. So you simply chose to nod.
 
 
Your Dad shook his head laughing lightly, “So that’s our daughter. Normally not as shy though, am I right, sugarplum?”
 
 
You wanted to desperately vanish, why would your dad call you that in front of a guest?! No less, a guest who looked incredibly handsome. Embarrassed beyond believe, you tried to escape, mumbling something about having to study.
 
 
“Alright, but dinner is in an hour,” your mom called after you, as you’d already jogged upstairs.
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True to her words she knocked at your door an hour later. When the door swung open before you even had the chance to answer, you growled angrily without looking up from the book you’ve been reading, “You could have waited until I said yes! I could have been naked!”
 
 
The answer you got, made you freeze, “Really? Maybe ya could’ve locked your door then?”
 
 
Sy’s voice sounded amused and it riled you up, tremendously. Closing your book, you slowly rolled onto your side then sat up on your bed, glaring at the man casually leaning against your doorframe.
 
 
“No need to give me such dirty look. Just here to tell ya, dinner ‘s ready, kiddo.”
 
 
As if he knew that name annoyed you immensely, his blue eyes seemed to sparkle even more, when you ground out, “Don’t call me that!”
 
 
As you stood up, approaching him, he teased back, “Why not?”
 
Mirroring his crossed arms, you huffed, “Well, first of I’m not a kid anymore. And second-“. Sy had suddenly stood up straight, very much towering over you now.
 
 
There it was, that stupid smug smirk of his, “Should I call ya, sugarplum then?”
 
 
This man irked you, so much. Additionally it was incredibly unfair how good he looked doing that.
 
 
“Hell no!” You didn’t even like it when your dad called you that.
 
 
“How ‘bout I call ya,” he paused, then leaned down, lips against your ear whispering, “my good little girl, then?”
 
 
You weren’t fast enough, the unexpected proximity combined with his filthy words, made a whimper escape, before you could suppress it.
 
 
Sy leaned back, pupils clearly blown out because of your pathetic, little whimper. “Atta girl. Now, I believe dinner ‘s ready.”
 
 
Completely petrified, at your own wanton response to him, you tired shuffling past him, but not before a big hand landed on your ass, making you squeak at the impact.
 
 
When you glared back at Sy, he only winked at you, making your stomach do summersaults. How could someone you just met, make you that desperate?
 
 
Before you could do anything stupid, you quickly descended the stairs.
 
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Yesterday at dinner you had found out, that Sy was indeed military. He’d been your dad’s captain and was still his best friend apparently. You tried not to think about the fact that you found him extremely desirable and wanted nothing more than to jump him right here and now. Especially as the conversation continued and the Captain’s heavy eyes hadn’t left you for even a second.
 
 
Igniting an inextinguishable fire inside you, an unbearable need to have this behemoth between your legs. Wanting to find out first hand, just how quickly that man could ruin you.
 
 
You were also very delighted to find out, he’d be staying with you for a couple of weeks. Unconsciously rubbing your thighs together in anticipation when it was announced he’d sleep in the guest room, right across the hall from yours.
 
 
Now you were lounging on the couch downstairs, knowing your parents wouldn’t be back, until later tonight. They had a previous engagement they couldn’t cancel, not having known then, Sy would show up. Though he had tried placating his best friend, by swearing he’d just wanted a quiet evening anyway.
 
 
You could have sworn his blue eyes had flitted to you as he’d said that, making you wonder what exactly he meant by ‘quiet evening’.
 
 
It was anticlimactic though, because when your parents had left an hour ago, Sy had wordlessly turned, walked upstairs and you had heard his bedroom door shutting in the distance.
 
 
Leaving you here lounging on the couch, waiting for something to happen. As the hours ticked by, you mindlessly switched through the channels, not truly interested in what was on. How could he lead you on so much and then do nothing? That was more than a little diabolic, wasn’t it?
 
 
Your frustration slowly turned to anger, when nothing, absolutely nothing happened. Mulling over the few interactions you’ve had with Sy, you began to doubt he’d wanted anything from you in the first place. Had you just imagined the burning gaze of his eyes? It couldn’t be, right? You weren’t that desperate, were you?
 
 
No answer you could come up with, was in the least bit satisfying, so you decided to call it a night. Switching off the TV, you went upstairs into your room to change into your favourite sleep shirt. Admittedly it barely covered your panty clad behind, but you were beyond caring now. The Captain was probably already asleep anyway.
 
 
Once you’d brushed your teeth and were ready for bed, you tiptoed back to your room. Still too frustrated to actually fall asleep, you lay on your side glaring into the darkness. And now what?
 
 
Your parents had come home some time ago, actually earlier than you had expected, at only half past twelve, though they had retired to bed right away.
 
 
You signed, you were wide awake and you blamed Sy with his filthy mouth and his stupid ass muscles and…
 
 
Just as you were about to curse his entire existence, you heard a door open and close again. Then you heard the tap running.
That was your chance. You were going to show him what teasing meant!
 
 
As quickly as you could, you ran out of your room, across the hall and entered the guest room, silently shutting the door. Just as you had hopped into his bed, the door opened again, revealing Sy’s muscled silhouette against the light coming from the bathroom.
 
 
You couldn’t see his face, but when he closed the door, slowly locking it as well, you were sure he smirked smugly when he turned, addressing you, “Took ya, long enough.”
 
 
You nearly spluttered, at his cock-sure remark. That devil had you waiting four hours and then he dared to say, you were late?!
Oh. Two could play that game though.
 
 
“Aww sorry, is that a grey hair from the stress of me being late, Captain?”
 
 
You only just finished the sentence, when Sy’s big hand closed around your neck, lightly squeezing in warning, as he growled, “Don’t get smart with me girl.”
 
 
He leaned down, tilting your head back, so you had to look up into his face. “Listen, I’m not some college boy, alright?” You swallowed thickly, nodding in agreement, as well as you could with his rough hand still squeezing your windpipe.
 
 
You knew he wasn’t, actually you’d hoped for exactly what he said next, “Meanin’ I do rough and fast. If ya stay, ya agree to that, understood?”
 
 
His hand finally loosened, so you could answer verbally, “Y-yeah, understood.”
 
 
“Atta girl.” Then he switched on the bedside lamp, illuminating the room in a warm orange hue.
 
 
You bit your lip to stop the whimper from escaping, Sy stood there as naked as the day he was born.
 
 
Every part of your body began to tingle, pussy pulsing between your thighs. He was big. No.
That was an understatement, he was huge. His cock stood erect, just as proud as he did. It wasn’t just his sheer length, his girth wasn’t anything to dismiss either.
 
 
He meanly grinned down at you kneeling on his mattress, “Still sure ya wanna stay?”
 
 
Licking over your bottom lip, you panted excitedly, “Yes, please.”
 
 
He spit into his right hand getting it wet, then he moved it between his tree truck thighs gripping his cock, “Hmm my, what a polite, little girl. Excited, aren’t ya?”
 
 
As he began moving his hand up and down his shaft, your eyes were glued to the movement, not able to look anywhere else. He groaned his next words, left hand landing on your naked thigh, “Lose the shirt, wanna see ya.”
 
 
You did as he said, pulling your sleepshirt over your head and flinging it onto the floor.
The second the light illuminated your nearly naked body, his cock twitched violently and he quickly let go.
 
 
“Fuck. Will ya look at that? Such a pretty lil’ thing and all for me yeah?”
 
 
“Yeah, all for you.”
 
 
His eyes seemed darker, somehow more sinister than before, fully blown out by lust. “You’re killin’ me darlin’…How ‘bout ya lose them ruined panties as well.”
 
 
It wasn’t really a question, but you nodded anyway before you leaned back and shimmied out of your panties. His hand encased your wrist, stopping you before the soaking wet fabric would land on the floor as well. Sy took the panties, bringing them to his mouth, making a show of licking through your juices left behind in the sullied fabric.
��
 
This surely set your already overheated cunt on fire, mewling desperately at the way his eyes greedily drank your body in, while he tasted your sweet nectar.
 
 
Apparently satisfied for now, he tossed your panties aside. Gleaming sapphires fixed between your legs, “Think I’m ready for the main event.”
 
And with that he pushed you back, until you lay on your back and he could step between your spread thighs.
 
 
A little panicky that he hadn’t prepared you, you piped up, “W-wait aren’t you… gonna prepare…me?”
 
 
Sy chuckled, then landed a light slap onto your exposed clit, making your whole body spasm, back bowing off the mattress as you shrieked at the pain mixing deliciously with blinding pleasure.
 
 
“Love, you’re soakin’ wet, what more ‘s there to prepare?”
 
 
You gulped, when he took his imposing length, rubbing it through your velvety folds. Then without further warning, you felt the head starting to slip in. Eager to feel your tight walls enclosing around his throbbing cock, Sy slowly pushed further inside. Quickly you wrapped your arms around his neck, squeezing when a light stinging sensation spread through your straining cunt.
 
 
He noticed your furrowed brows right away, leaning his head down and taking one of your erect nipples in his mouth, suckling gently until you threw you head back, panting as a familiar warmth invaded your lower stomach. Even before he was half way inside, Sy had you coming around him with a loud squeal.
 
 
Swiftly he used your orgasm to thrust forward, burying his shaft inside your quivering pussy to the hilt. Full beyond anything you’d felt before you moaned loudly, though this time a hand covered your mouth as he huskily hissed, “Gotta be quiet darlin’. Unless ya want Daddy to come knockin’ at my door.”
 
 
He groaned, as your cunt continued to squeeze around him, “Ya feel even better than I imagined.”
 
 
Only being able to breathe through your nose, didn’t make it any easier to get used to the huge poker inside your stomach. But Sy was kind enough to wait until you did.
 
You nodded and when he didn’t seem to notice, you lightly licked his hand that got his attention immediately.
“Hmm I see, someone ‘s ready. Next time we’ll try out that lil’ tongue.”
 
 
When he shifted a bit, he was pressed into your g-spot, grinning cockily when your back bowed off the bed again. “Found it.”
 
 
That smug bastard, knew exactly what he was doing, without leaving that spot, he manoeuvred you into a mating press, both your legs positioned over his broad shoulders. Your chest touching his hairy pecks, immediately creating friction, as he pulled back a little bit, only to slam back inside you.
 
 
A groan left his lips, and a scream would have left yours if it weren’t for his hand sealing them shut. Your hips automatically bucked upwards, trying to keep up. But Sy just kept ramming inside your tight hole at a pace that you thought humanly impossible, using you as his own personal ragdoll, grunting every time his balls slapped against your ass.
 
 
You couldn’t do much as his free hand held onto your shoulder, so you wouldn’t slide up the bed away from his rough fucking. Each stroke of his impossibly wide cock, had you whimpering behind his hand. Sy’s body continued to slam into yours, though his groans got louder and louder, until he suddenly decided to switch gears.
 
 
His teeth sank painfully into your shoulder, trying to stifle his own sounds of pleasure against your flesh. The hand that previously covered your mouth had slid down, wrapping around your neck, smothering your building moans right at the source. The sensation made your head feel pleasantly empty, pussy convulsing rhythmically around him.
 
 
It was too much, you couldn’t hold on any longer, the pain of his bite mixing with the onslaught of pleasure and the breathlessness you felt, tipped you right over the edge. Overwhelmed by pleasure, tears started streaming down your cheeks, choking on a whimper as Sy grunted a last, “Fu-uck!”
 
Then you felt his thick, hot cum filling your insides, prolonging your orgasm for a bit, he finally ceased his movements after a last hard thrust. Sy’s hand left your throat right away, as did his teeth your shoulder.
 
 
He gently ran a hand over your stomach, making you shiver as the movement tickled. “You did so well, my good little darlin’, aren’t ya?”
 
 
Completely boneless you nodded and smiled up at him, when he muttered his next words, “Let’s freshen up, hm?!”
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Taglist:
If you’re interested in being on my taglist, please let me know! And if you want to be taken off (my taglist), feel free to tell me!❤️✨
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strawberryfaced · 5 months ago
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I tried reading a new book but it got too scary so I stopped reading it. unfortunately the writing style was so good and I liked the setting so much I started reading it again (with the cost of not being able to be alone for the next week or so). I’m halfway through and god. I love. books
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sysig · 5 months ago
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Grump and not so grump (Patreon)
#Doodles#Villainsona#Just Desserts#Lol#Happy to be the happy sona! Of course ♪#I fiiiinally got a haircut again yaaaay#Actually all the Reds did! We all went to the local barber and they do such lovely work <3#We got our hair cut on smol's birthday and we're all adorable!#It's really nice now that it's out of my eyes and off my neck - smol's is directly in her eyes tho lol#As long as she's happy haha#Continuing the happies trend <3 This was doodled before the brain weirdness but I'm mostly back onto it :)#Got brain-work to do about it |P But better is good! I like better!!#And I like pleased <3#There was plenty to be pleased about! :D Good dreams and good conversation and games and ah <3 Happies <3#Poor Charm gets none of the above! Haha poor lad ♪#The TVAU grump was just a spacefiller so not much more to that#She is cute tho even when she's grumpy#And then the Kaiein thing lol - so I mentioned a bit back about going to meet with one of Kaiein's ''inspiration sources'' ahem ahem#It's the same as before - they're honestly quite ineffectual once you get right down to it#I read basically everything they do in bad faith because there's no established trust - and also I don't care if they're trying to insult me#If they're trying to connect it's sad - if they're trying to be mean it's pathetic - which I mean? Good?? Lol#Them not having power over me in themself is a good thing I'm glad that's where I am currently#Basically they got me a how-to book on digital art - with an emphasis on Photoshop#I know SAI is a lesser-known program but they were the one who helped me buy it - they've probably forgotten#Maaahh it doesn't matter - not even into Evil Time about it it's just so nothing pff#Someday they'll learn that giving gifts isn't the be-all end-all to making friends. I know I would've preferred nothing :P#I'm just happy to be confident enough where I am that while I don't like it - it doesn't actually do anything to me lol#It's a better place to be :)
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briarrolfe · 1 year ago
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It’s going to take until June 2025 before I get there. But I’m putting my shoulder down and beginning a very slow rugby charge in the direction of Bernard Gaynor
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that-house · 10 months ago
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Potion Vendor FAQs:
What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.
Do you sell love potions? No.
Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.
Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.
Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.
Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.
So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.
Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.
Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.
Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.
Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.
Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.
Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.
So can you make poison potions? No.
Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.
Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.
How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.
You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.
Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.
Road trip? He lives in Seattle.
Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.
For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.
And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.
Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.
Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.
You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.
So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.
Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.
Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.
Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.
What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.
You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.
Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.
Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.
Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.
Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.
Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.
Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.
When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.
When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.
Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.
Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.
Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.
Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.
I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.
How did you know that? …I’m psychic.
Yeah? No.
You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.
Did you just miss a turn? Probably.
Are you sure we’re not lost? No.
You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.
Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.
Would it help if I said it was? It would.
Is it getting dark? Soon.
Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.
Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.
Should we find a motel? Sure.
One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.
You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.
Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.
Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.
How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.
How many beds are there? One.
Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.
Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.
How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.
Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.
For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.
Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.
Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.
Are you asleep? …
Yes? …
Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …
What should I say? …
Did you know that I had a really nice day? …
Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …
Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …
Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …
Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …
Did you know that you’re warm? …
Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.
Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.
Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.
What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!
Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.
You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!
Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.
Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.
You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.
Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.
Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.
How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.
Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.
150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.
How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.
Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.
And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!
Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.
And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.
So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.
So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!
Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.
Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.
Are you done eating? Yep.
Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.
How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.
Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.
Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.
What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.
Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.
Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…
Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.
Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?
When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.
Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.
What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.
Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.
What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.
Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.
Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.
What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.
I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …
Did he get his body modified? …
What sort of surgery could do that? …
How is he still alive? …
Did a fucking wizard do it? …
WHY? …
HOW? …
Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …
I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.
Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.
Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.
Can we do that? Of course.
Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.
Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.
Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.
Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.
How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.
How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.
That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.
Wanna fuck? God yes.
Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.
…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.
How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.
How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!
Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.
When will we get there? Noon-ish.
Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.
Is this Seattle? Looks like it.
Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.
Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.
So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA
Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA
Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.
Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.
So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!
How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.
Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.
Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.
Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!
Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!
Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.
I just caught this, but, FAQ? …
As in Frequently Asked Questions? …
How many times is Frequent? …
Have you known everything all along? …
How many times have you done this? …
Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!
And you say that every time? Yes. I do.
Do you love me? Yes.
How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.
Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.
Can I go now? Please don’t.
But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.
How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.
What happens at the end of this? It begins again.
And do I get replaced with someone else? …
Do I get replaced? …Yes.
Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!
You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.
How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?
Did you know my name is Alice? …
Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …
Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …
Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!
Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.
Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.
Be good to the next me, okay? I will.
Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…
What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.
Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.
What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.
What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!
What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.
Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.
What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.
What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!
So I should keep repeating something? Yes!
I love you? I love you too.
I love you? Again.
I love you? Keep going.
I love you? I’ll just let you talk.
I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!
I love you? Now can you make it a statement?
I love you.
You did it?
I did it!
You did it!
We broke the loop.
What now?
Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.
And then?
Whatever we want, forever.
I think I’d like that.
Remember that song from the beginning?
The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?
We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?
Let me off, let me in
Let others battle
We don’t need to battle
And we both shall win
Pressed in my palm
Was a stone from the beach
The perfect circle
Gave a moment of peace
Now I’m lying on the floor
Like I’m not worth a chair
I close my eyes and imagine
I’m not there.
11K notes · View notes
tender-rosiey · 1 month ago
Note
Hey you lovely human :) Just dropped in to say I bumped into blog like yesterday and since then I ATE (almost) everything Gojo related (still have a couple left), like I genuinely am in LOVE with everything. If you are ever willing to take upon this idea, I was curious about how you see Gojo meeting his significant other and falling in love ? Would love to see the beginning of their relationship and how they ended up together. Thank you and since is already weekend here for me almost - i hope you have a gorgeous weekend!! ^^
creepy eyes — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: AHHH THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY OMG TYYYYY and i am so sorry that i took so long </3 ANYWAY this is how I imagine gojo first meeting his wife cause i believe that it has to be before gojo closed off and that she became a trusted and close friend of his
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it’s just another afternoon at jujutsu high, the sun bathing the grounds in a soft glow, casting long shadows as students hurry from class to class.
you’re deep in thought, focused on training, when you suddenly collide with something solid—or rather, someone.
you stumble back a step, blinking up at the towering figure now standing before you. you glance up, only to find yourself staring into a pair of eyes—bright, intense, and painfully blue.
the boy is about to say something, but you beat him.
“my god, your eyes are creepy,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
there’s a beat of stunned silence.
the giant’s mouth drops open slightly, his eyebrows raise in sheer disbelief as if you’ve just insulted the most precious thing in the world to him.
“my eyes?!” he gasps, hand flying dramatically to his chest. “you think my eyes are creepy?”
you nod, grimacing at the loud sound, “yeah, they're unnerving. kind of like staring into a bottomless pit.”
satoru is scandalized. “my eyes are beautiful!” his voice pitches higher, as if stating a fact that should be universally accepted.
he tilts his head closer to you and taking his glasses off, daring you to look again. “take another look! appreciate them!”
you squint, unimpressed, and simply shrug, brushing past him, “I’ll pass.”
that’s the beginning.
days turn into weeks, and the more you try to forget about that initial encounter, the more satoru won’t let you. every time you cross paths, it’s like he has a personal mission to make you take back that one insult.
whether it’s during training, at lunch, or in the hallway, satoru somehow finds a way to bring it up.
“you still don’t think my eyes are nice?” he asks, exaggeratedly crestfallen, peering at you with that playful gleam.
“yeah, still creepy.”
“but why?” he exclaims, leaning against the doorframe or sitting next to you with a theatrical sigh. “do you not see the sparkle? the beauty? the endless charm?”
it becomes such a regular thing that even suguru can’t help but get involved. he appears at satoru’s side, casually rolling his eyes at his friend’s dramatics, though a smirk plays on his lips.
“you’re still on about that?” geto quips. “maybe just accept that she has good taste, satoru.”
“oh, shut up, suguru! she’s just blind to my perfection!” satoru retorts, crossing his arms as he watches you chat away with shoko.
and so it goes. satoru’s relentless teasing—half playful, half desperate—starts weaving into the fabric of your days.
every time you think he’ll finally let it go, he’s right there, flashing that expectant grin as if waiting for you to finally give in.
months pass. the seasons start to shift, but satoru's persistence doesn’t.
he keeps bugging you about it—less often than before, but every once in a while, he'll find an opportunity.
whether it's during class or during a mission, he brings it up with that same confident, teasing smile.
it’s a lazy afternoon when it happens.
you’re outside, lounging against a tree in the sun with a book in hand, trying to relax after a mission when satoru flops down beside you, elbow nudging yours.
his sunglasses slip down the bridge of his nose as he grins at you. “still think they’re creepy?”
you don’t even look up from your book. “yup.”
he leans in, resting his chin on his hand, giving you that pout again. “come on, you’re just being mean at this point.”
you stifle a laugh, flipping a page. “am I?”
satoru lets out a dramatic sigh, “you’re impossible, you know that? these eyes are a national treasure.”
you can’t help the small laugh that escapes your lips this time. it makes satoru blink, clearly caught off guard by the sound.
he tilts his head, eyes narrowing in curiosity as he leans closer to your face. “wait… was that a real laugh? are you finally admitting I’m funny?”
you roll your eyes, looking away from him as you smile. “don’t push your luck.”
he grins widens at the sight of your smile, and he is about to boast of his achievement when you glance at him. with amusement still tugging at your lips, you reach out and push his sunglasses up with a playful tap.
“fine, fine,” you relent, voice teasing as you give him a small grin,“I think your eyes are very pretty.”
for once, satoru’s the one caught off guard.
he blinks rapidly, a flash of surprise flickering across his face as he pulls himself away and tries process your words.
your smile doesn’t falter, but satoru’s eyebrows furrow, before he chirps, standing up, “well—it’s about time you admitted that!”
your eyes widen, as he gets loud and starts ranting about his beauty, “it is only natural that you succumb to my charms! ahaha! my eyes are only one part of it!”
confused but having nothing to say, you lean back against the bark. you don’t mention out loud that his ears are tinted pink, not that satoru would give you the chance to call him out.
but you both know that something has changed.
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do not copy or plagiarize
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thewispsings · 3 months ago
Note
Oscar piastri x reader smau, but she’s completely anonymous and people are trying to find her after Oscar revealed he was married to someone?
nobody ever asked me | oscar piastri
pairing: oscar piastri x reader
summary: oscar piastri shocks the world by letting it be known that he is married, and has been for the past two years
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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, logansargent, and 1,017,827 others!
oscarpiastri: vacation with the wifey! 🧡
view comments below!
user1: oh that’s not
user2: excuse me the what?
user3: this is interesting!
landonorris: wait what
oscarpiastri; what?
landonorris: wait what are you being serious?
oscarpiastri: about what?
landonorris: oh i don’t know maybe you having a WIFE???
oscarpiastri; yes i do have a wife!
landonorris: WHAT THE FUCK
user4: oh so oscar not joking?...
user5: feeling like lando rn because what the fuck???
user6; this just ruined my day
maxverstappen1: i knew you were lying about SOMETHING
oscarpiastri: ive never lied to anyone, nobody ever asked me if i had a wife
maxverstappen1; that’s….fair
user7: THATS NOT FAIR??? OSCAR WTF?? YOU CANT JUST SPRING THIS ON PEOPLE???
charles_leclerc: nice pictures oscar!!!!
charles_lelcerc: wait a minute...
charles_leclerc: wife????
charles_leclerc: what?? what? what??
charles_leclerc: i am so bamboozled right now!
charles_leclerc: am i walking the prank? i feel like i am walking the prank
oscarpiastri: no you aren't walking the prank? whatever that means? ive been married for a little over two years now!
user8: TWO YEASR??? LIKE 730 DAYS??????
user9: no you guys actually dont understand, this is driving me crazy?
user10: this is SUCH an oscar thing to do tho.. like randomly announcing thats hes been married for 2 years??
user11: he took oscar core to a whole new level
user12: my heart just broke
user13: you should've announced that you had a gf first, my heart cant take this
danielricciardo: i'm a little late, don't know whats going on..so? congratulations? my condolences?
oscarpiastri: thank you daniel!!
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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 691,616 others!
oscarpiastri: some more pictures of the wife since you all seem so curious! here’s my wife, yn, and her book store 🧡
view comments below!
user14: YN!!!! WE GOT HER NAME
user15: HALLELUJAH
user15: yn is a beautiful name
user16: HER bookstore?? she owns a bookstore??
user17: the way she probably has so much lore and we will never learn about it is so??
user18: we're only going to learn about when oscar randomly decides to drop some info: key example: THIS POST 😭
maxverstappen1: I KNEW HER NAME FIRST!!!
oscarpiastri: only because she's your biggest fan and she begged to meet you
maxverstappen1: stay mad
oscarpiastri: she's married to me??
maxverstappen1: and yet she's MY biggest fan
user19: DAMN MAX
user20: oscar was SILENCED
user21: i need to know when he them, how they got together, and what theyre wedding was like
user22: it kills me to know we will never get this information
user22: its actually so crazy how oscar said yn has been to all of the races so far?? like how didnt we notice her 😭
user23: what if shes been in front of us the whole time and we just mistook her for like a mclaren team member or something
user24: well now I have to go look at every single oscar picture out there and try to find something
user25: or you could, idk? respect that she doesnt want to show her face online?
user26: but thats no fun
charles_leclerc: it was great meeting her!! ❤️
user27: they met her? 💔💔💔
oscarpiastri: she says thanks for the lec ice cream!
user27: he gave her lec icecream?? 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
user28: ive only known about yns existence for a month and a half, but if anything happened to her, i would kill everyone on earth and then myself.
liked by oscarpiastri
. . .
note: thanks for requesting!! hope you enjoyed(*≧▽≦)
2K notes · View notes
n0thingbutlov3 · 4 months ago
Text
need you now
in which an impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)
“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”
His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.
You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.
You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.
“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.
“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.
You swallowed it down.
“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.
You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.
“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.
You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.
It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.
When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.
It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.
You think this qualified.
You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.
You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.
You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.
You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.
You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.
“Spencer?” You slurred.
He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.
You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.
You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.
“I’m fine.”
Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.
“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.
You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.
“How did you get in?”
“My key.”
“Oh.”
Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.
“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.
“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.
You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.
You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.
“Angel, what’s wrong?”
You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.
“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.
Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.
His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.
“Do you want to talk?”
Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?
“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.
“Okay.”
Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.
“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.
You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.
He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.
“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—
“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.
and—actually, you were fine now.
He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.
He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.
“Whole thing, please.”
You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.
“Happy?”
“Very.”
You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.
The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.
You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.
“Why did we break up?”
He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.
“I—you know why—“
“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.
Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.
“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?
“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”
Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.
“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“
“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.
“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.
“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.
“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”
Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.
“Of course I want to.”
“Okay,”
“Okay.”
He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.
Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.
As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.
You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.
“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”
He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.
“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.
“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”
You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.
“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.
Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.
“Unless you want to, I mean—“
“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.
He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.
You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.
You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.
“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.
“Nothing. You’re pretty.”
“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”
“Don’t wanna.”
“Why?”
“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”
Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.
“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”
You nodded.
“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”
You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.
“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”
You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.
part two!
2K notes · View notes
coryosbaby · 8 months ago
Note
I am BEGGING you to write about hannigram x innocent fem reader. mayyyybee featuring age gap and breeding? :) she just asks them "what does break my belt mean?" and oh..
Caretaker… Hannigram x fem! Reader
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Synopsis: it’s up to Will and Hannibal to take care of you, however that may be.
Content warning . 18+, MDNI age gap (reader is in her early 20s), spanking/usage of belts, punishments, dumbification, threesome, cum play, daddy kink . hard dom! Hannibal, soft dom! Will
Author’s Note: I didn’t know how to go about this (my brain isn’t braining rn) so I did smth similar :) this is literally pure filth like Im ovulating sorry
‧₊˚ 🩰 ⋅* ‧₊
“You need to stop being so hard on yourself.”
Will’s voice is soft as he gently rubs your sock clad feet, watching the small wince that you make when he grazes over a bruised toe. You adjust yourself on your bed, bottom becoming numb from how long you’ve been sitting. You slide the sleeves of your dress back up on your shoulders— they have a hard time staying up, and it’s something that annoys you incredibly.
“He’s right,” Hannibal chimes from the cushioned seat in the corner of the room. He closes the book in his hand and sets it on the desk beside him. It’s funny, how different these two men look in your pink, frilly room. “You’re working yourself too hard, little one.”
You frown, feeling the bed dip as Hannibal joins you and Will’s side.
“But ballet is important to me.”
“So is your health,” Will replies, and notices the way you seem to fidget in your dress. “Is your dress bothering you, baby?”
You nod, heat creeping up your neck when Will lifts the hem of it over your head. Now clad in your bra and cotton panties, you feel open and exposed. But since it’s Hannibal and Will, you feel safer than you’ve ever been.
“Come here,” Will says, and you crawl over to the place in between his spread thighs as he leans against your headboard. Hannibal follows in quiet suit, moving to Will’s side and holding your hand in his much larger one. Will’s hands play with your hair as you think back to something you’d been wanting to ask the two for a while.
“Can one of you use your belt on me?”
The soft scrape against your scalp stops at the question.
“What?”
“I mean,” you mumble, cheeks flaring. “I was watching a video.. ‘n.. the guy, he—“
“You’ve been watching naughty videos?” Hannibal inquires. You shake your head, wide doe eyes flashing.
“No!” You reply, too quickly. “No, of course not.”
“Hmm,” the man shifts, gripping the soft skin of your jaw gently with his hand. Looking into your eyes, he can see the deceit in them. “You have, haven’t you? You know what we say about those videos, darling. They’re bad for you,” he looks back to the other man in the room. “Maybe we will have to spank her after all. Don’t you think, Will?”
“Play nice, Hannibal,” Will warns, though his mouth pulls into a small, amused smirk. “She’s sensitive. Probably doesn’t even know what she’s asking for.”
“I do.” you whine, pawing at the sleeve of Hannibal’s suit. He chuckles, thumb rubbing gently over your wrist.
“Come here then, little one,” Hannibal coos. “Over my knee.”
Your eyes widen, pouty lips dropping open in awe.
“Now?” You squeak.
Will rolls his eyes, patting you softly on the arm.
“You heard him, Bunny. Go on.”
Getting on your hands and knees, panty clad ass now revealing the puff ball bunny tail on the back of the fabric, the two of them think you’re the cutest little thing they’ve ever seen. You hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone, and watch as Will hands over his belt to Hannibal. It’s your favorite one, plain black but with a belt buckle that has your initials imprinted. Will wears it often— he’s not one to have flashy accessories, but since it was a gift from you he cherishes it dearly.
Since Will is on Hannibal’s left side, you decide to position yourself with your face directed towards him. This leads to your arms and face being smooshed against Will’s thighs, and he gently rubs your head with his hands. Hannibal hums when your ass lifts up for him, bunny tail flickering as you move your hips to get his attention.
“We should keep these on, don’t you think?” He says, fingers grazing over the bunny tail. “Too precious to pull them down, lover.”
You nod shyly, letting out a puff of air when Will’s fingers begin fumbling with the hooks on your bra. He advises you to slide the straps off your shoulders when he undoes them, and you awkwardly shuffle them off. Will’s hands move around your back to grope one of your breasts. The feeling of cold leather against your backside makes you whimper, and Hannibal positions his hand on the bottom of your thigh.
“Move your hands behind your back,” Hannibal demands. “You aren’t in any position of control. If you want to stop, you know the rules.”
“Yes, daddy,” you reply, almost immediately. You move your arms back to link them together, Will’s hands gripping the both of yours tightly to make sure you don’t move.
“Good girl,” and then, “You’re going to count each one I give you. We will stop at ten since this is your first time.”
You nod, as much as you can with your face buried in Will’s lap. You can feel the hardness in his pants, right up against your cheek, and your mouth waters.
There’s a comforting rub against your left cheek before Hannibal brings the belt down. It isn’t too bad, a slight sting that makes you jump.
“One.” You say, quietly. Your ass lifts up for more.
“Good,” Hannibal praises, soothing the skin once more. “Are you going to watch those videos again?”
You stay silent, contemplating but also being quiet on purpose. You can’t deny that Hannibal getting angry with you makes your panties drenched.
At this, Hannibal slams the belt down onto you once again. A warning. You cry out this time, feeling a burning sensation along your skin.
“Don’t make me ask you again,” he says sternly. “And don’t make me have to break my belt on you, little one.”
“What does that mean?” you whine, ditzy little head genuinely confused by such a simple term. You inhale the scent of Will’s pants, and from above you, the brunette’s hands gently soothe your back.
“Told you, Hanni,” he singsongs. “Doesn’t even know what she’s asking for.”
“Ignoring your interruption,” Hannibal says, annoyed (but not really). He directs his attention back to you. “Tell me, little one. Yes or no?”
You bite your lower lip, cheeks flaring as your arousal increases.
“Yes.”
Hannibal scoffs.
“You’re asking for it, aren’t you?”
The belt comes down on you again. You jump, tears beginning to pool along your waterline.
“What was that?” Hannibal demands harshly. “Was that a yes that I heard?”
“No!” You say. “No, daddy, I’ll never ever watch those videos again! I promise, promise…”
You thrash against the pain, and Hannibal’s palms rub the sore skin.
“Alright,” he replies. “but I’m adding five more. Naughty girls who don’t listen get punished.”
“Hannibal,” Will warns. “She’s fragile.”
“She’s a brat, is what she is, Will. Stop defending her,” Hannibal’s hands wrap around your hair, pulling your teary eyed face up and craning your neck. “Now count. Starting from three.”
The belt comes down again, and your hands ache, along with your bottom.
“T-Three.” You say. The belt comes down on you again, and again. You count to five.
“You really need to be harder on her,” Hannibal says to Will, who’s subtly grinding against your face as he watches you writhe below him. “She needs to learn that her actions have consequences.”
“I know,” Will sighs, then gently taps the tip of your nose, and smiles softly. “But look at how precious she is.”
Hannibal rolls his eyes, bringing out the sixth then seventh hit. You can already feel the blooming of bruises by the time you hit number ten, and your aching pussy grinds down into Hannibal’s thigh. He seems to allow this, and by the twelfth hit, he’s teasing you about it.
“Is this arousing you, lover?” He asks, amused. “You only have three more to go. You better enjoy it.”
“Mm, she is,” Will cuts in, reaching down between your legs to feel your soaked panties. “Little pussy is so wet,” and then, “You ruined your panties, pup.”
Mewling, you allow another smack to come down onto your ass.
“T-Thirteen,” you whimper out. “Could.. could you buy me some new panties, Will?”
Another smack. Another number. Will tilts his head, staring at your panty clad ass.
“Mm,” he replies. “I don’t know, Hannibal. What do you think?” His fingers grasp the puff ball tail and tug it up. This makes your panties ride up in between your folds, and you gasp, humiliated. “I think baby blue would really suit her.”
“That, or lilac,” the eldest man replies. “We’ll get you a new set, little one. But only because it benefits us as much as it benefits you.”
You smile, giddy with excitement to take another shopping trip. Hannibal rubs your ass again, and Will kisses you on the head.
“One more for us, alright?”
You nod, perky ass throbbing with heat. Hannibal slams the belt down, and this time you let out a sob. It was the harshest hit, one sure to leave a welt or two. Hannibal coos when he sees your look of pain, throwing the belt to the side and gently massaging you.
“Shhh. It’s alright. Come here, darling.”
You maneuver your body to slide in between Hannibal’s legs, pulling him into a hug. His arms wrap around your smaller form, and he kisses your hair, allowing you to bury your face into his shoulder. You let out a few more stray tears while he and Will both soothe the ache on your bottom.
“You know we only do this because we have to.” Hannibal murmurs.
“I know, daddy.”
“Actions have consequences, and you asked for this sort of punishment. So we decided to give it to you,” he explains, and pulls away to wipe away your tears with his thumbs. “Did you enjoy it?”
You nod, a small smile grazing your lips.
“I did. I enjoyed it a lot.”
“Good,” he replies. “And since you’ve taken your punishment so well, I’m giving you the opportunity to ask for something. Whatever you want, you can have it.”
Your eyes brighten.
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
You lick your lips, contemplating your options with excitement.
“Hmm,” you say, and then finally come to your decision. You look over to your second boyfriend, who seems to be watching you with an almost love struck gaze. “I want Will… want his mouth. Please?”
Will licks his lips at the statement. Oral is one of his favorite things to give.
“Very well,” Hannibal says, then gestures for Will. “She can lay in between my legs. You lay between hers.”
Will nods, and you happily turn around and begin sliding off your panties. Spreading your legs, you look up at Will with doe eyes as he approaches you. His lips touch yours, sliding easily against the expanse of your mouth. When he pulls away, the scent of your arousal overtakes his senses. He groans, moving down in between your legs.
Hannibal’s big arms wrap around your shoulders, keeping you still. Will flawlessly licks a stripe up your slit, making you whimper and hold onto Hannibal for dear life as he begins to eat you like a man starved. His mouth works wonders against your tiny hole and aching clit as he groans into your cunt, drinking your sweet juices like it’s nectar of the Gods.
“How does she taste?” Hannibal asks, even though he already knows the answer. He loves to go down on you just as much as the other man.
Will pulls away, chin dripping and hair disheveled.
“So fuckin’ sweet,” he gasps out, nosing at your folds. His thumbs spread them apart, exposing your hole that’s coated in creamy slick. “Cutest fuckin’ cunt I’ve ever seen.”
You clench, letting him see the opening and closing of your hole. You want him to stick his tongue back inside.
You don’t have to wait long for that, because a mere second later Hannibal’s big hand splays across the back of Will’s head and pushes him back down. Will lets out a moan at this, allowing Hannibal to guide his head up and down and every which way that brings you closer and closer to your peak. Hannibal smirks, watching the way you writhe under his tongue and watch Will with hungry, lidded eyes.
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” He says, and you can feel his hardness pressing against your back.
Drool seeps down your chin as you nod.
“Mhm..” you whine out. Your hands go to the boy’s hair, and he whimpers when you tug on the strands.
“He likes when you do that,” Hannibal observes, his tone low. He kisses the shell of your ear. “Do it again.”
You comply, watching the way Will’s hips grind down into the mattress when it happens and the way Hannibal lets out a heavy breath. Will’s mouth works harder, bringing your clit in between his lips and lightly sucking. You gasp out his name, hips moving against him in tandem.
“Will, Daddy.. ‘m so close..”
“Close, yes?” Hannibal taunts, and his grip around your throat tightens. His biceps practically squeeze your neck as you near closer and closer to your high, your throat gasping for breath. When your orgasm overtakes you, Hannibal loosens his grip, but not quite. You let out a raw, pleasure filled moan when you cum, Will working you through until the point of overstimulation, your legs shaking and your sock clad feet pushing on his shoulders. He chuckles when he pulls away, a pleased grin forming as he wipes his slick coated mouth on the back of his wrist. And boy, is it a sight. He licks up the remaining remnants of your arousal with his tongue, hands splaying on either side of you and Hannibal’s legs so he can move up and kiss you filthily on the mouth. Hannibal is next, a tender peck that makes the cock against your lower back twitch. It has him licking his lips when Will pulls away, his lashes fluttering as he sighs in content. He presses a kiss to your mouth, too, and relaxes even further.
It’s only a mere moment of rest before you can feel that familiar throb again, and the sight of your two boys bulging through their pants makes you drool. You spread your legs, overstimulated pussy on full display.
Will, who had been laying at the foot of the bed in front of the both of you, watches with hunger. You lean away from Hannibal, instead turning yourself on your knees and presenting yourself to Will, who’s already positioning himself behind you eagerly. Hannibal, the most patient out of all three of you, no doubt, finally takes his aching cock out of his pants and wraps a hand around himself at the scene. You hear the rustling of Will’s fly being undone, then his length is pressed against your ass and wet, oh so wet, even when he slides it in between your folds and sheathes himself inside your little hole with one swift movement. Your mouth drops open at the sensation of being filled, your hands finding purchase on Hannibal’s thick thighs in front of you. His cock is hitting his stomach, red and leaking drops of precum down the tip, and you watch as Hannibal rubs it up and down with his hand. You look up at him pleadingly as Will begins to pound you into the mattress.
“You want daddy’s cock in your mouth, is that it?” Hannibal teases, and you nod. He sighs, directing the tip of his cock towards you. “Open wide, sweet girl.”
You happily obey, tongue lolling out to lick at his tip, his stringy precum sticking to your bottom lip and the head of his cock, tasting absolutely divine. Will’s hands roam over your ass as his cock bullies your gummy walls.
“Mm, Hanni got you good, didn’t he, baby?” He says, examining the marks. “Gonna have to put some lotion on that later.”
The use of the nickname in Will’s mouth is a mockery of your own. You nod, however, pouting.
“Mhm. But Daddy knows what’s best for me.”
“That’s right,” Hannibal grunts out, when you take him fully down your throat. “Dumb little girls like you can’t think for themselves. That’s why you need Will and I to take care of you,” and then, “God, darling, your mouth is just perfect.”
You hum, choking on him. Will’s fingers bruise your hips now, his balls slapping against your ass with every harsh thrust. Your pussy quakes around him, clamping down on his length. His breath is warm against your ear as he pushes in and out of you.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby..” as he watches your ass bounce back against him.
“Look at that tight little pussy, practically choking my dick.” as he spreads your cheeks apart, watching the way you take him.
“Hannibal’s cock tastes good, doesn’t it?” As you come up for air and gasp, drool soaking your neck and chin.
You can feel when he gets close by the way his hips stutter, and with a lewd whine hes babbling endlessly.
“I’m gonna cum,” he says. “Gonna cum in this slut pussy— god, squeeze me just like that.”
“Please,” you whimper endlessly, and you can hear Hannibal let out a breathy chuckle.
“She wants it. She wants you to cum in her cunt,” his voice drops an octave as he watches the boy. “Come on. I need something to lubricate her more once I get my turn, don’t I?”
“Oh—“
Will’s eyes roll back, his body tensing up as he finally releases inside her. She clenches down on him, milking him for all he’s worth as he shoots rope after rope deep inside her gaping pussy. Hannibal’s fingers nestle into the boy’s hair as he rides out his orgasm, gently twirling the soft locks in between his fingers. You watch with your mouth turned into an o, burying yourself deeper against Hannibal’s chest in retaliation.
“There you go,” Hannibal coos when Will sighs against your chest, spent. “Good boy.”
“Tease,” Will mumbles back to him, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. His eyes look up at you and he smiles. “Are you okay?”
You giggle, nodding your head.
“More than okay.”
He looks down at the mess between your thighs as he pulls out, grunting. A trail of his spend pools out of you and onto the sheets.
His fingers begin to move up to your drenched clit— you need release to, after all, and Will is never a selfish lover—but before he can, Hannibal’s hand grabs his wrist.
“No,” he utters. “Let me, once I’m inside her.”
“Like I said,” Will grumbles, moving out from between your legs to settle back against the headboard. “Tease.”
Hannibal rolls his eyes, guiding you to turn around and face him. You bite your lower lip at the feeling of Will’s cum trailing down your thighs. Hannibal undoes his belt, pulling down his zipper so his pants are open and his briefs are exposed.
“Take me out, darling.”
She reaches into the waistband of his underwear, pulling his length out and giving it a few languid strokes. Will watches, his spent cock twitching against his stomach. He ignores it, instead deciding to move to your side and press a kiss to your heated cheek. His hand provides a comforting pressure to the back of your head as he settles it in your hair. Hannibal tilts his head, grabbing the back of your thighs and pulling you into his lap.
“Put my cock inside you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Be a good girl.”
Your lashes flutter at the vulgar term spilling from the usually polite man’s lips. Will’s hands scrape against your scalp and your brain is fuzzy with how good it all feels. Grabbing Hannibal’s length in your hand, you position your dripping cunt over the tip of his cock.
Sinking down makes your brows furrow. Hannibal isn’t as big as Will, but that isn’t saying much. The man still has a considerable size, and his girth stretches your gummy walls exceptionally. You whimper, settling down to the very base of his cock. Hannibal’s head tilts back and hits the headboard, his eyes squeezing shut to get used to the sensation of you wrapped around him. His big hands splay across your hips and Will nuzzles your throat affectionately.
“Daddy.” you whine, your little pussy beginning to rock onto Hannibal.
“Yes?”
“Fuck me, please?”
He smiles, pulling you further against him so he can brace his feet underneath you. His cock gives a few shallow thrusts, getting used to your heat, before moving into more dangerous territory. It isn’t long before he’s jackhammering into you, your head tilted back by Will’s big hands. He demands you open your mouth, and you do. A glob of spit lands on your tongue, which you swallow greedily. Hannibal groans as he watches the scene.
“Filthy little things,” he mutters, pulling you into a kiss. You both share Will’s saliva on your intertwining tongues.
Your thighs shake as Hannibal’s cock and balls leak with Will’s cum. The sound is utterly sinful— the gushing sounds of his cock pummeling your filled pussy, his balls slapping against your ass, the sobs tearing through your throat. Tears stream down your cheeks and you’re sobbing.
Hannibal’s fingers reach down to your clit, deftly rubbing against the swollen nub exactly the way you like. It isn’t long before you reach your peak, your pussy clenching down as a string of filthy words makes its way out of your throat, burying your face in Hannibal’s white button down and staining it with salty tears. Will is an absolute sweetheart, guiding your hips with his hands to help you, cooing little sweet sayings in your ear. He cakes your throat in pretty red marks.
Hannibal draws closer to his orgasm, small grunts and heavy breaths spilling out of his mouth. It isn’t long before he empties inside you, filling you up with a second load of sticky, white cum. He pulls your limp body off of his length, your pussy making a gushing sound as both of your boyfriend’s dribble out of you. The two men sigh when they see it, their cocks both twitching at the sight.
But all three of you have had enough for the day— or at least for the next few hours. Hannibal disappears out of the room for a moment to bring back a glass of water and lotion. He holds the water to your lips and sweetly coos, “you’ve been such an obedient girl. Drink, okay?”
You do, of course. You drink the whole damn glass.
After going into the bathroom to pee and wipe your cum covered thighs, Hannibal lotions your sore bottom with gentle hands. After this you finally crawl back into bed, moving onto your stomach and hugging your pillow tightly. Will chuckles.
“You don’t want a bubble bath?” He asks, because that’s usually what you request. But you just shake your head, your eyes fluttering shut. Not asleep, but almost. Will nods his head. “Later then, sweet girl.”
The boy crawls to your side, wrapping his big arm around you and pulling you to his side. Hannibal soon joins, his tie loosened and jacket off, pants unbuttoned. It’s rare to see him in such a messy state, relaxed. Only you and Will can help him unwind like this.
He lays on his back, and you lay your head on his chest, inhaling his strong, expensive cologne. Beside you, you can smell the aftershave that Will wears— Hannibal teases him about it, but you’re quite fond of it. It smells like home.
They smell like home.
You smile sleepily, watching with barely open eyes as Hannibal and Will’s hands connect over you. As you fall into a peaceful sleep, the two men on either side of you stay wide awake.
After a moment, Will chuckles.
“So I’m assuming we’ll be using my belt more often?”
“Guaranteed,” hannibal confirms, watching you drool onto his shirt in your sleep. He never mentions it to you because he doesn’t want you to be embarrassed. “Perhaps we can use it on you next time, Will”
The younger man scoffs, his cheeks flaring as he buries his face into your hair.
“Shut up, Hanni.”
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:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz
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deadsetobsessions · 7 months ago
Text
Sea Cryptic! Danny Pt.6
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]
Danny slumped over the table at the library. He’d feel embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the rest of the floor’s occupants. Around him, students were speed running through the five stages of grief like it was going out of style.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”
“Same.” Danny replied, rolling his head to look at Tim. “I’m feeling like an academic victim instead of an academic weapon right now.”
“I should have stayed dropped out of school,” Tim grumbled.
Danny gasped theatrically. “And deprive the world of your awe-inspiring genius on…” Danny peered at Tim’s books and grinned. “On… the Krebs cycle? Seriously? They’re teaching that again?”
“I know! This is like, the third time.” Tim whined.
“At least you’ll be good at it, right?”
Tim scoffed. “I’m gonna drop out of college and become a stripper.”
“They do make bank,” Danny nodded. “But aren’t you like a millionaire or something?”
Tim brightened. “Oh, you’re right. I don’t need education! I’m filthy rich!”
Danny whacked Tim on the back of the head, laughing quietly.
“Whatever. Let’s go take a break. Snacks?”
“I literally don’t know how you eat so much.”
“Snacks have a separate stomach pouch. Normal food goes one place, junk food and desserts in another.” Danny retorted, quickly packing up his stuff. In reality, he didn’t need that much food. He’s half dead, after all. But food also converts to ectoplasm in his body, and ancients knows Danny needs all the energy he could get.
They made their way out of the campus library, passing stressed out looking students on their way to a taco truck.
“Does this even count as a snack?” Tim asked, amused. He tugged on his book bag, readjusting the vigilante pins on them.
“Is the sky even blue?” Danny snarked back, forking over the cash needed for the best fucking tacos on this side of Gotham. They sat on the benches, asking for an obscene amount of extra lime and cilantro before going to town.
“Holy shit, how many of those can you eat?”
“Dunno,” Danny mumbled though a mouthful or carne asada and pico de gallo. “Hungry.”
Tim snorted, pulling out his phone to scroll as he ate. A moment later, Tim showed Danny his screen.
“Hey, you live near here, right?”
Danny, cheeks bulging with food, peered at Tim’s phone and nodded.
“Oh, cool! Have you seen the green guy around?”
Danny squinted at Tim, tilting his head as he chewed.
“You know, the glowing green guy that’s been blowing up the Gotham Bay tag.”
Oh. Tim was talking about him, Danny!
Danny nodded. He quickly ate his food and wiped his mouth before replying. “Yeah, why?”
“Does he seriously just clean up the bay? Nothing else?”
Mildly offended for some reason, Danny shrugged. “I mean yeah? He doesn’t seem to pop up near any of the shady spots- oh, I saw him save someone from a mugging in front of my apartment once! But like, I think all he does is clean the bay. Which is good, because holy heck, that place is nastyyy.”
“Seriously?” Tim leaned in, looking super interested. “So he’s friendly?”
Danny raised a brow. “Yeah, he seemed pretty nice, I guess. Though, that’s not saying much considering your Rogues tend to be pretty chill when they’re not in the middle of a scheme.”
Tim snorted. “True that. You talked to him? When? Outside of his bay cleanings, right? I’ve noticed that he only talks to the Bats during those.”
Danny stared at Tim. “Tim… are you… stalking the guy?”
What Danny really wanted to say was: “Tim, are you stalking me?”
“I’m not stalking him!” At Danny’s suspicious glare, belied by his sauce stained mouth, Tim sighed. “Okay, maybe I am. But only some minor stalking!”
“Uh-huh.”
“But if you have, you think you could introduce us? Maybe he’d want to be friends?”
Was Tim asking Danny to introduce him to… Danny himself?
“Uh. Why do you even want to meet him?”
“Danny, he’s a glowing green guy that does community service for funsies. And he knows the Bats. That’s cool.”
“And here I thought you wouldn’t know cool if it smacked you in the face.” Danny teased. Well, whatever. He might as well do something nice for Tim. “Sure. I’ll text you when he pops up and see if he’s okay with meeting you.”
Tim grinned at him, a piece of cilantro stuck in his teeth. “Thanks!”
——
Danny made a duplicate of himself and went ghost. Danny and his duplicate looked at each other and sighed.
“We’ve done stupider things.”
“But we’re still not telling Jazz.”
“Agreed.”
Danny paused. Did he just make a deal with himself? No, he’s busy.
Doppelgänger Danny went invisible and left the apartment by going through a wall. Danny followed in a sedate pace, the normal way.
Outside, he pretended to catch sight of a suddenly visible Phantom. He’d heard the heartbeats outside his apartment ever since he got home all those days ago, and he’s pretty sure the vigilantes were watching his place ever since. Luckily, he made sure there weren’t any bugs or hidden cameras- Sam beat cautiousness into his head a while ago- before starting the plan.
One of those heartbeats sounded like Tim’s which left some… interesting connotations.
Danny sighed. Who was he kidding? Of course he’d be friends with a vigilante.
“Hey, Phantom!” Danny shouted, waving. Phantom floated over.
“Danny. Hi. Did you need something?”
“Oh, not really. My friend wanted to meet you, he’s a huuuuge fan. Think you’ve got time today?” Danny held up his phone.
Phantom hummed. “I can stay for a bit. Thirty minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll call him. His name is Tim, by the way. Thanks for taking the time to meet him!”
“No problem.”
Danny texted Tim, and minutely frowned as he picked up the sound of Tim’s ringtone. Shit, that pretty much confirmed his suspicions. He got a text back from Tim.
Timsy
[5 nin]
Nin
Nin
Nin
Min
Danny huffed an amused breath. “He’ll be here in five minutes.”
“Alright.”
Danny texted back an okay.
Five minutes later, a flushed and disheveled Tim peeled onto the street and right to the curb.
“Here!” He said as he tumbled out of the car.
“Damn, bro. You good?”
“Fine- oh my god, you’re the green guy!” Danny had to hand it to Tim. If he didn’t already figure out he was Red Robin, Danny would’ve believed the act. Holy shit, wait, he called his friend broke. Hah!
“It’s Phantom. Nice to meet you, Tom.”
A quick sliver of sullenness flashed over Tim’s face. “It- it’s Tim.”
“Oh, right. Sorry, human names sound so similar.” Danny leaned back and hid a grin as his doppelgänger messed with his friend.
“Oh, wow, you’re not human? What are you then?”
“Oh my god, Tim, you can’t just ask him what he is!” Danny scolded. These vigilantes were really similar.
“Sorry…” Tim apologized.
“It’s fine. To answer your question, I’m dead. Ghost.”
“Do you really pay taxes?”
Phantom tilted his head. “Yes, of course.” By the, Danny meant that he paid both human taxes and oversaw the Zone’s taxes. “You know that saying, something about never escaping from two things and that’s taxes and death? You can escape death- might come back a little wrong- but taxes are in the afterlife too.”
“Come back a little wrong?” Tim asked, eyes suddenly sharp.
“Come back a little,” Phantom gestured to himself. “Green. More emotive and prone to irritation.”
Tim stared.
——
“Jason, are you a ghost?” Dick, crouched on the top of Danny’s apartment building whispered.
Red Hood, crouched in the same area, stayed silent.
——
“How did you die?”
Phantom snarled and disappeared.
Tim whirled around, looking bewildered. Behind him, Danny struggled to stay calm.
“Where’d he go?”
“He probably didn’t want to hurt you.” Danny sighed.
“What? What did I do?”
“You asked him how he died. That’s like, the ultimate social taboo.”
“I didn’t know that!”
“It’s common sense, dude. Trauma like that has to be shared instead of asked about. Generally.” Danny sighed. “Come on, let’s get off the street and I’ll give you a crash course in manners.”
——
Bruce, upon hearing about the conversation, dove headfirst into researching the after life.
“No, go suck a goat’s genitals, Batsy, I am not helping you adopt a being of the infinite realms!” Constantine hung up on him.
“Hn.” Bruce will adopt the child and give him a home. It’s only a matter of when… and what inter-dimensional loopholes he could find and use in the relevant laws.
Jason was right behind him, because he was going to get answers, dammit.
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luveline · 2 months ago
Note
hey!! I'd love to see one where maybe jack and hotch try speaking to the baby in pregnant!reader's tummy :))
thank you for requesting! fem, 1k
You sniff Aaron’s hair. It’s your right as his wife to enjoy his smells. You’re too tired for subtlety. “You know how many weeks I am today?” you ask. 
You’re in a bubble together. Aaron answers with his usual calm tenor. “You are twenty seven weeks today, honey.” 
It’s endearing that he knows. It’s nice to have found a good one. To never have to worry about compassion or care. Which isn’t to say he’s perfect, he makes wrong decisions, and he disappoints you sometimes, but still, he’s a good one. You aren’t perfect either and you don’t have to be, all you need to do is love and respect one another as much as is physically possible, and you do.  
“Mm,” you hum, drawing a heart into his arm, “and you know what they say around this time?” 
“I’m not sure.” 
“She can hear you, if you want to talk to her.” 
“Really?” 
“That’s what I read earlier on. That if you talk to her through my stomach, she can probably hear your voice. By full term she’ll have hearing like me and you.” 
“Is that true?” he asks, resting his hand on your bump. Sometimes when the baby is in a bad mood and her foot feels like it’s making a bruise through your skin, all Aaron has to do is touch you, and she stops. 
“Well, according to the baby book. They say by twenty nine weeks it’s a sure thing.” 
“Can I speak to her?” 
You brush through his hair with your pinky nail. “Sure, sweetheart. You can talk to her all night long, I’m sure she’d love to hear your voice.” You push the hair from his forehead. “I like hearing you talk.” 
“Lay back,” he says. 
Aaron sits up and you lay down, your head in the pillows, your pregnancy cushion a support on your left side. He slides your t-shirt up slowly as though giving you time to say no. He begins to rub slow circles around the bump, before laying his head flat to he bed, his lip less than two inches from your distended tummy. 
“Hi, baby,” he says, unabashed. “How are you feeling?” 
You laugh. He peeks up at you. 
“Sorry, it’s just funny.” 
“It’s okay. I’d laugh if you started asking my stomach questions too…” He smiles. “But my baby’s in there, so you’ll have to forgive me.” 
“I won’t laugh again, promise.” 
“It’s fine if you do. I’m finding it hard to take myself seriously.” He slows his rubbing. “Baby, if you can hear me, please say hi… I love you. I’m so happy you’re getting bigger.” 
The longer he talks, the less funny it becomes. His melodic murmuring turns praising, he talks of you and Jack and every amazing thing waiting for the baby in the world when she’s done cooking. He tells her he loves her, loves you, that she’s beautiful even though she’s shaped like a GMO kidney bean. He’s totally relaxed. You fall in love with him all over again. 
“And it looks like your big brother wants to say hi too,” he says. 
You perk up. Footsteps rush down the hall to the master bedroom, and a knock echoes fast. Jack doesn’t wait for an answer, bursting in with a happy gasp. “I knew you were still awake,” he says. “Please can I come watch TV with you?” 
“Sure, buddy, but we aren’t watching anything right now,” Aaron says. 
“What are you doing?” 
“I’m talking to your sister.” 
Jack leans against the bed, fingers screwing in Aaron’s shirt unthinkingly. “You are?” 
“I read in my book today that she can maybe hear you when you talk to her,” you tell him. “Would you want to talk to her, bud?” 
“Can I?” 
“Sure. I don’t mind. I’d love for you to say hello, ‘cos how special is that? For the last few weeks, all she’s been able to hear is me. She doesn’t know she has a whole family waiting for her.” 
Aaron straightens and helps Jack climb onto the bed. He settles at the pillows with you, leaning down briefly to kiss you, lips misaligned but no less gentle. 
“What do I say?” Jack whispers, putting his hand carefully on your bump. 
“You can say anything you want,” you whisper back. “You can say hi, or you can tell her something. The best thing about babies is that we get to teach them about everything.” 
“Okay, um… well,” —he braces himself with two hands on your tummy and leans in— “you can’t see, but we have a dad with brown hair and brown eyes, and we have a super pretty mommy who smiles all the time at me…” Jack’s cheek tips toward his shoulder. “On Sunday they take me to the library and we stay there all morning. And for dinner we always have, um, one hand of vegetables and one hand of chicken, or pork, or pasta. But it’s okay if you can’t finish everything.” 
He looks at his father. “Is that okay?” he asks. 
Aaron offers his hand. “Buddy, that’s perfect. You can tell her anything that you want. She just wants to hear your voice.” 
“Can I tell her about teenage mutant ninja turtles?” 
You laugh. “Sure,” Aaron says. 
Jack starts to talk about Donatello. You try not to laugh as his little hands tickle you, turning your face into Aaron’s side. 
“I have so many things to say to you right now, but I’m worried it’s too saccharine,” he says. 
“Save them for later,” you say, hugging his waist. “Can I nap here? Would you rub my arm?” 
Aaron rubs your arm as you’ve asked. You fall asleep to the sound of your stepsons mumbled rambling and Aaron’s occasional breathy laugh. 
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wosohours · 2 months ago
Text
commitment - leah williamson x reader
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You always heard about “don’t date athletes” and “athletes are players," but of course when good advice comes your way, you ignore it.
It was a bit insane to think that you could start talking to the one girl who could not be bothered with being in a committed relationship. That gut feeling telling you “Don’t get too close”, “Don’t entertain her”, or “Don’t fall in too deep” but you once again ignored it.
Honestly, you could not help it. It was like a craving to be around Leah all the time. It almost felt like an obsession of wondering, “What is she doing?”, “Where is she?”, “Is she thinking about me?”
Constantly checking your phone to see if she messaged you. Looking at her social media every hour on the hour. You were in deep and you knew it would eventually lead to hurting yourself. Yet, being someone with the typical heart-eye delusions, the thoughts in the back of your mind kept saying, “She will change for you.”
Trying to distance yourself never worked because every time you were at a safe enough distance she kept pulling you right back in. Leah knew that she had some type of hold on you and constantly used that to her advantage.
Just last week she was barely texting and calling you back. You understood that she was not obligated to do so since you two were not officially together, but you were most definitely a little…maybe even a lot more than “just friends.” The dates, the romantic gestures, and the PDA all confirmed that but you could never understand her constant pushing and pulling.
Leah knows exactly how to make it up to you though. She texted three days ago saying how sorry she was not keeping in contact, how she misses you like crazy and how she planned a whole day for just the two of you. You were strong this time, wanting her to feel how she makes you feel by not texting back and declining her calls those three days. Yet one slip of weakness and here you are right back in her bed.
____________________
“I missed you so much you have no ideas.” Leah tells you as she feathers kisses all over your face as you both lay in bed naked.
“Oh really? I would not have guessed.” you said as you sat up from her chest and moved away from her a little. She froze looking at you with that cute frown that is usually stuck on her face and said, “Baby I told you I am truly sorry, I really mean it. I have just been a bit busier since the launch of my third book. You know this.”
Leah wraps an arm around your waist pulling you back down closer to her. “I am here now though, aren’t I?” You hesitantly relax into her and say, “I know but a simple text or any sort of reply would have been nice. I just missed you.” You can feel Leah smiling against your hairline after she lays a soft kiss there. “I missed you too babe.”
After a moment of you two just enjoying each other's company she says quietly, “How about we get up, you come shower with me, and then we can go out and get some breakfast?”
____________________
Once again the cycle repeats itself with Leah distancing herself. No longer answering calls or texts. Although it hurt, you thought it would be best to leave things the way they were to protect your peace, even pushing yourself to be petty enough to block her number. It was almost like you were putting her up to the test to see how far she would go to get your attention.
Although she did swipe up on one of your Instagram stories of you in a tight shirt with no bra saying, “I’ve seen it, now delete it,” but you ignored that as well.
____________________
Since being friends with Leah for many years you have grown closer with some of the Arsenal girls and with them loving your company, a couple of them have asked you to join them in celebrating the end of their USA tour at a local pub. People are either mingling by the bar, doing karaoke, or sitting around the reserved private table in the back.
Currently, you are at the bar getting a drink and you can feel Leah’s eyes burning into the back of your skull.
“What’s going on with you two? You have been more grumpy than usual,” Katie teases Leah as she sits in the empty seat next to her. “She's ignoring me,” Leah sighs, still looking at you.
“What have you done this time?” Alessia asks from across the table. “I’ve been kind of avoiding her again. I don’t mean to but I don’t know what I’m doing.” Leah replies.
“Have you tried talking to her about how you feel? Do you actually want to have a serious relationship with her?” Katie asks.
“No, I haven't talked to her. Every time I try to talk about us my mouth goes dry and all of a sudden I can’t think, and of course, I want something serious with her I’m just nervous,” Leah shakes her head and looks down at her fidgeting fingers.
Lia, who has been listening to the conversation from her seat next to Alessia, speaks up, “Well you might need to tell her soon because the bartender is flirting with her heavily.”
This causes Leah’s head to shoot up in your direction and sees the bartender smiling at you and reaching her hand over to rest on your forearm. “Yeah, not happening.” Leah quickly stands up from her seat and pushes past people to make her way over to you.
When she gets to you she gently wraps an arm around your waist not to startle you and pulls you back into her chest. She gives her glare that she usually saves for the pitch to the bartender, making her quickly release your arm and turn her attention to another customer waiting at the other end of the bar.
Leah smiles when you relax into her and she whispers in your ear, “You’ve been avoiding me.” You slowly turn around until you are face to face with her and say. “Hurts doesn’t it?”
“I deserve that. Why don’t we go have a chat and I will explain myself?” Leah says, moving her hand to grab yours. “Really? You want to talk now and here?” you scoff.
Leah just nods and gently pulls your hand so that you follow her out to the back patio of the pub. She sits on a bench that is a little bit away from the loud building and pulls your hand down to sit next to her.
“You know you shouldn’t just flirt with anyone, she could've just been charming you into being her next one nightstand,” she says.
“Hmm, pot meets kettle huh? You would know,” you scoff pulling your hand away from hers.
“No, I wouldn’t, because we are more than that,” she firmly replies.
“It sure doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”
“I know,” she sighs, focusing on her shoes, “but I can explain.”
You look at her and slightly nod your head giving her the indication to keep talking.
“I love everything about us. I love how we are with each other. How easy it is to be around you and the connection that we have. I’m just scared of the reality of us being together because it seems too good to be true,” she confesses. “Don’t get me wrong I do want to be with you and I am serious about you but there is this nagging feeling in my head that I am going to screw it all up.”
You grab her hands gently and say, “That’s completely understandable Leah, I wish you would have communicated with me about how you felt earlier. However, you can’t make future assumptions about something you or we haven’t even tried yet. Neither of us has any idea of what could happen but it doesn’t mean push away and hide from it.”
You continue, “You are looking too far into the future when you should be focusing on right now. That self-sabotaging brain of yours is going to stall you for great things one day.” you giggle pushing her head away making her laugh too.
After the giggles die down she says, “You are completely right. If you allow me to give this…us another try I am willing to put my all into it. I just ask that you give me that reassurance.”
“I can give you that, but you have to promise to communicate with me.” you nod raising your hand to move a piece of hair out of her face.
“I promise to communicate my feelings to you,” she replies leaning into your hand.
You smile and stand up from the bench pulling her up with you to give her a hug resting your head against hers. Leah pulls back a bit to give you a few quick pecks on the lips causing you to giggle and move away.
“My girl,” she whispers, pulling you back against her and laying one last kiss on the side of your head.
____________________
Since that day Leah has kept her promise of communicating more and you have kept yours by reassuring her when she needed it. She even asked you to officially be with her a couple weeks later and it had felt as though something shifted in the air.
She was constantly texting, calling, and wanting to be attached to your hip. When you too were with each other in person she would constantly cling to you but you were okay with it since that is what you were wanting from the beginning.
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starkwlkr · 8 months ago
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it’s nothing new | sebastian vettel
part 1 part 3
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED
update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading! you can read it here!
“hello?”
“mark, hi.”
“y/n? it’s been a while. how are you?” the aussie asked. it had been years since you spoke to mark, but he always kept you updated. he sent messages about how everyone in the paddock was doing, which you appreciated him for.
“i . . i’m okay. is this a bad time to talk to you?” you asked. you suddenly remembered about time zones.
“it’s alright, i always have time for you. what’s going on?” he questioned.
“so i am at my sister’s house and i didn’t want to sleep the whole flight so i decided to read your book.” you replied. “it’s a beautiful book, mark.”
“thanks.” he knew there was more you wanted to say. “are you mad?”
“mad about what?” you asked. “what you wrote about sebastian and i? is that what you’re talking about?”
“well yeah. i tried to contact you several times. you wouldn’t answer my messages so i assumed you changed numbers. seb told me he didn’t care if i wrote it in—”
“mark, i’m not mad. i’m far from it. i just want to know if it’s true. did he tell you everything? the night he won the title, i mean.” you asked. you remembered that night clearly. you didn’t finish the race, but that didn’t stop you from celebrating with sebastian.
“he would never lie about you, love. i told him to tell you, just to get it off his chest but he wouldn’t. you were with someone else, it was wrong.” mark explained. “you know the day you announced your engagement, he hated himself for not telling you sooner. maybe things would’ve ended differently if he had.”
maybe . .
“does he hate me?”
there was always that possibility. but when it came to sebastian, he would rather die than say he hates you.
“he could never hate you even if you did throw a show at him and call him a cunt.” mark chuckled. “he still loves you, you know, he asks about you all the time and i have no idea what to tell him.”
“well maybe i could tell him myself . . do you have his phone number?”
after you were given seb’s number, you noticed he never changed it. you weren’t sure why, but you decided to text him instead of calling.
y/n
hi seb, it’s y/n. i know it’s been so long and i’m sorry for how things ended. i hope you’re doing great. i’m not doing too good right now. my marriage is ending so i have that going for me. i’m staying with my sister and her family. anyways, i hope you don’t mind me messaging you. mark gave me your number but turns out i still have it saved. speaking of mark, i read his book on the flight, it’s very interesting. i’ll leave you alone now, thanks for caring about me all these years.
after you sent the message, you didn’t expect a reply. it was as if he was waiting for a message this whole time.
seb
hi y/n. i hope you know i never forgot about you after all this time. i’m sorry about your marriage, i really am. i don’t mind at all that you message me, i never changed my number in hopes that one day you would. as for mark’s book, i hope you’re not mad, but if you need to know, it’s all true and i wouldn’t change anything. being with you made me happy and everytime i hear your name, i’m reminded of the joyful memories we shared. i have something to tell you, only a few people know. i plan to retire at the end of the 2022 season. it would be nice if you would come to abu dhabi for my last race. i understand if you can’t make it. take care and i love you always. (it’s nothing new at this point)
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@hc-dutch @lightdragonrayne @multiplefandomwritings @woozarts @jggykhug09090 @neivivenaj @kissesandmartinis @barnestatic @avythef1addict
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starlightervarda · 11 months ago
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I can't sleep so Star Trek TOS/SNW dashboard simulator
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🪆 chekovsgunman Follow
to this day I can't understand why they're called the Three Musketeers if there's FOUR of them? Did Dumas just forget his own main character???
🪴 plantdad Follow
You've got to be kidding me
🪆 chekovsgunman Follow
I know right? A mistake like this would never happen in Russian literature!
5,324 notes
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🩺 therealmccoy Follow
After months of taking care of everyone else on this giant tin can I really earned this shore leave. Now I get to drink, relax, flirt with some lovely ladies and sleep until noon 😎 Just what the the doctor ordered!
🩺 therealmccoy Follow
Update: A fucking purple tree ate five crewmen. Again.
955 notes
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🖖 iamspock Follow
Despite being among humans for close to a decade, I still find their tendency to overcomplicate and avoid aspects of social situations to be confusing at best and infuriating at worst. So much time is wasted on tedious matters such as who gets to 'make the first move' or 'not come off too strong'.
For example, everyone aboard my vessel is keenly aware of Lt. Uhura and Engineer Scott's 'budding romance'. But their need to extend their oddly avoidant courtship ritual, rather than outright state their interest in one another, is pointless, as well as frustrating to witness.
Why do they do this? Why not 'get it over with', as they say?
I encourage answers from all cultures, human or otherwise.
💅 janicethemenace Follow
I'm sorry Scotty and Nyota are WHAT
💉 xtinechapel Follow
DELETE THIS
💖 ofmanytongues Follow
SPOCK NOOO HE DOESN'T THINK OF ME LIKE THAT 😭
🔧 scott-free Follow
But I do! I thought you knew and were just being nice about it!
💖 ofmanytongues Follow
DMing you rn 😳
🖖 iamspock Follow
You're welcome.
24,103 notes
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🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow
PSA: If you visit Antares VII, stay clear of any yellow plants, their pollen can have some...inconvenient effects on the biology of humanoid peoples.
My XO and I suffered through troubling symptoms until it was almost too late. Thankfully, we figured out a cure in time.
🪴 plantdad Follow
I can only find info on the symptoms. What was the cure? 👀
🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow
Do I really have to say it?
6,322 notes
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💊 mmmbenga Follow
The galaxy if Klingons didn't exist
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⚔️ glorytotheempire Follow
Wow. Humans are openly advocating for our disappearance yet Klingons are the bad guys? I thought your federation stood for peace.
💊 mmmbenga Follow
Cry harder you genocidal wrinkly-faced bitch I hope your planet gets sucked into a black hole
#If you think a joke is on par with what they do then book an MRI because you might have brain damage #fuck Klingons and anyone that sympathizes with them
35,007 notes
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😎 ortegaaaas Follow
So I can either skim through this asteroid belt on Warp 2 for 3 hrs or on Warp 5 for 15 mins
🚀 mitchiemitch Follow
Erica no! That's not how navigation works!
😎 ortegaaaas Follow
FLOOR IT???
🚀 mitchiemitch Follow
ERICA NO
😎 ortegaaaas Follow
HOW ABOUT WARP 7 FOR 15 SECONDS?
💖 ofmanytongues Follow
ERICA YOU'RE GOING TO CRASH THE SHIP
😎 ortegaaaas Follow
I AM GOING TO HARNESS LIGHT-SPEED TO ZIGZAG THROUGH THE VOID
🚀 mitchiemitch
ERICA P L E A S E
112,517 notes
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🐴 sirsilverfox Follow
I know some species are very private, but you'd think they'd share the important stuff, esp when we should trust each other by now.
How are we supposed to enjoy my weekly dinners if you all don't tell me what to watch out for :/ This is the third time this happens to the same person and I had to get the answer why from our CMO
💫 numerouna Follow
Wait what did I miss while I was gone
🐴 sirsilverfox Follow
Spock got wasted on my chocolate fudge cake and hit his head on the counter ://///
2,904 notes
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iceunhie · 4 months ago
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— phaethetically in love !
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premise. belle thinks her brother is the most oblivious person in sixth street. the reason? one: because his (super obvious) crush on you is practically the worst kept secret in new eridu, and two: because he can't even see that said crush is reciprocated! good thing he has one (1) amazing, wonderful, nosy sister to help him out, yeah?
or, belle thinks the two of you are a prime example of an s tier romance movie; and she really wants to skip to the final arc already.
pairing. wise x gn!reader.
warnings: kinda ooc wise (i just started the game), wise is a loser (lovingly), belle is an instigator (proudly), comedy, facepalm moments.
a/n: for @vxnuslogy and @milksnake-tea bc yes wise kissers yes
MY (rlly cool btw 🥺) MASTERLIST || INBOX !
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“you're in love with [name], aren't you?”
like all siblings in the world—or what's left of it, belle schemes.
(against wise, of course. obviously.)
her brother bursts into a mess immediately, nearly spilling his cup ramen all over his new shirt, chopsticks sticking out. laughing nervously. general chop would not be proud. “who told you that? i mean— haha, who said that, belle?”
his sister rolls her eyes. “me, myself. i.” she emphasizes, leaning her elbows against the table and putting her palms together; the grin she wears right now is so serene, but not in the angelic, nice way. belle smiles and wise finally thinks, oh. my sister may need to book herself to the closest self-help guru in new eridu.
“i have reason to believe that you, my dearest brother, are in love with [name].”
her voice goes up an octave at the last bit, leading wise to stuff her mouth with potato chips. already, heads have turned. “mff.”
“keep your voice down! and stop broadcasting it to everyone here-”
“what, i am right, aren't i? they clearly like you back, so why haven't you confessed yet?”
“keep. your. voice. down.” wise says, and belle's shit eating grin only widens as she sees her brother's ears tinged with pink. “and... how did you even know that?” he asks, mortified.
“well, one: because it's obvious—like, have you seen how obvious you are?” belle huffs, taking a bite of the potato chip with force (personal grudges are involved). “and two, because they like you back, dummy!”
because when belle sees the two of you together, it's like wise focuses on no one else. you are the center of his world—and he is just being pulled to bask in your light. his eyes soften like they melt only for you, and wise looks like all he is is, all he wants to be, is to belong with you.
(and, wise likes to stare at you for ungodly amounts of time. belle even caught him staring when you were petting a cat by the street and decided to name the stray ‘wise’; courtesy of him, apparently. the cat literally just had grey fur.
“wise.”
“hm?”
“you're practically spawning heart eyes now.”)
it's sickening. (in a oh my god my brother is in love kind of way, mind you.)
“so!” belle says, a devilish sparkle in her eyes. “allow your dearest sister to help you out, 'kay?”
wise nearly coughs up blood.
“what?!”
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so at present, belle compiles her (hastily written) list of romantic moments you and wise have shared. she's not surprised—the number can be counted on one hand. diabolical, disappointing, world-ending! she resists the urge to cough up blood.
first, a coff cafe date with tin man's help: a fail. tin man's wingman capabilities were very superb, but she never heard the end of it when wise was lecturing her about how tin man kept sending over heart shaped desserts and little fortune cookies. the fortune cookies in question which said ‘you can do it!’ and a latte with art of caricature tin man making a heart. (you were very confused). belle thought it was motivating. wise thought it was mortifying.
next, even instilling help from fairy to calculate statistics about what event would you two be likely to be together. fairy said, and belle quotes: “probably never. that kind of pining's for the long run, with the other master's current experience. give it a year or six, master.”
so, she's currently face-palming.
did her brother really have zero game? why were the two of you just dancing around each other?! she's tried everything—from letting you two spend more time with each other in commissions, her inviting you over more to leave you to chat with her brother, and even the entirety of sixth street has lent their aid! how were you two not dating yet?!
“didn't they go on an arcade date at random play yesterday?” belle mutters. “that should've increased your progress by a long mile, bro! even general chop said you two were really, really close in the noodle shop....”
just what was she going to do now? at this rate, her brother would be relationshipless in no time! in fairy's words again, it would be phaethetic. and that would be a phaethal blow on her pride.
“...master, i said no such thing.”
“well, now you did.”
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“The Ethereal Reckoning,” there's a pep in your step, the boxes full of movie DVDs in your arms as you walk back to the movie store. it was heavy, but at least you got to walk with the grey-haired proxy beside you. “That movie was great! Thanks for recommending it to me.”
Sporting a dopey, lovesick grin in response, wise nods at that, content to listen to your voice. it was actually belle's idea to let you lend movies you like over so the two of you could talk about it back and forth. wise would need to (begrudgingly) treat her to a bowl of ramen later on.... she saved him—he probably wouldn't even be talking to you for this long at this point, let alone hang out with you without her. for someone so nosy, he guesses his sister was a pretty good wingwoman.
“the main character was pretty similar to billy, you know?” you ramble on as wise listens. “i mean, because they were an android too, and...”
he finds that he's content to listen to anything you say, really. (right now he doesn't really know what you're saying, something about a horror ethereal movie, but you could just tell him anything and he would listen).
“i feel like the heroine's death was unnecessary, though.” you sigh, “too much tension just for it to end like that? how anticlimactic.”
your voice was so nice, so warm and easy to listen to, and wise can't even say anything to retort, simply staring with a growing (lovesick) smile on his face. talking to people was hard work, and talking to you? it might just make him combust.
“...ise? wise?”
“ah, huh?” he snaps out of his trance, only to find you mere inches away from his face, the only thing keeping you apart the boxes full of movies he's carrying. “...!”
“are you listening?” you furrow, and someone really might be out to get him right now because in that moment, wise flinches from the proximity, bumping into you.
then, because the universe thinks his life couldn't get more dramatic than it already was—you stagger, about to fall forward.
he moves before he thinks. “watch out!”
and wise.... practically astral-projects to another plane when he feels you fall into his arms, his hands on your waist. he can feel the warmth of your skin on his, the flustered look on your face. (he feels like he's going to die).
the two of you lock eyes for a moment, and wise feels like he's about to so something very stupid and his hands are still on your waist—
“....”
“.....”
someone save him.
“ah...”
“sorry!” you recover first, hurriedly letting yourself pull away from him (much to his disappointment). “i wasn't looking, and i- are you okay, wise?”
“no, no, it's fine.... i-i'm fine....” he hopes his voice isn't as small as it is, he couldn't be smooth to save his life; and wise helps you gather your bearings, his hands brushing against yours, blood rushing to his ears. sheepishly rubbing at his nape. “sorry, i was distracted.”
perhaps in the mood to lift the atmosphere, you sputter out, “no worries! it's fine! besides, you listened to me all this time.... i really enjoyed the movie, really.”
“of course i'll listen.” and before wise can think to stop his traitor of a mouth, the words spill out of his lips like it always wanted to be.
“you're worth paying attention to.”
it's automatic—your face heats up, warming like the sun on a hot day in new eridu, and god, he is such an idiot-
“you think so?” wise gulps. you looked bashful, and were way too adorable right now, and his face felt like it was on fire.... wait, that's not the point! he has to answer you, at least. this is a chance to make progress!
“y-yeah. definitely. i enjoyed... watching the movie with you.” he says. did his voice just crack just now? “we can hang out more often too, even without belle.”
he feels bad for throwing his sister under the bus like that, but—wait, did he just ask you out on a date? (accidentally)
well, it didn't matter because wise feels like he won the lottery right now, because you brighten up immediately. “really?”
then you cough and compose yourself. “i mean, sure! i'm sure it'll be fun, haha...”
awkward silence ensues. uh oh, did he say something wrong? was he too forward? he wants to say something, but something is lodged in his throat, and wise can't bring up a response. (his heart was beating like crazy right now, though).
“uh...”
“....”
then, something soft brushes against the side of his cheek. as fast as it was felt, wise felt the sensation leave just as easily. did you just-?
you just kissed him. on the cheek.
“thanks for hanging out with me, wise.”
“you're welcome- wha- huh?!” he nearly drops the stack of dvd's he was holding. you pull away, an enigmatic smile on your face. face flushed.
before he can even respond, the two of you finally arrive at the movie store. damn it, gods of the world. why did his luck run out now?
“i guess this is your stop.” he blinks, your voice coming back to him. “and, wise?”
“ah, uh, yeah?”
“it's a date, then?” your eyes sparkle and shine a light through his heart. super effective!
is this really happening? is he really going on a date with you—oh, he's so thrilled he could actually burst into song and kick his feet, but belle would tease him ruthlessly after. nosy sisters were so much work....
“yes!” he almost yells it out, but because he didn't want to look uncool in front of you, wise composes himself. play it cool, play it cool. don't mess up this chance! “yes, definitely. it's... it's a date.”
you put down the other stack of dvd's down the table, flashing him a dizzying, lovely smile smile. wise swears he falls even harder for you.
“then it's a date.”
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BONUS.
“seriously?! you're going on a date with them?!” belle shouts, so unceremoniously that wise slaps a hand on her mouth.
“not so loud! but, yeah.” he says, face heating up. “your plan worked, sis.”
“yes! yes! finally!” his sister practically cheers, “i can finally be free of your sickening heart eyes... and finally, our street's most anticipated couple is here!”
wise can't help but sigh in fond exasperation. he guesses he'll let her have this one today.
“also, belle?”
“what?”
“you didn't tell anyone about this, did you?”
...
“uhh....”
(on the day of the date, wise receives an abnormal amount of good luck posters. he also gets a disturbing amount of thumbs up from the neighbors.
the last straw? tin man, giving him a baked cake with the words ‘rooting for you!’ covered in pink heart sprinkles.
he facepalms. belle...!)
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a/n: d d do you guys get it..... phaethetically...... phaethon..... wise is phaethon and he's awkward in love lol hahahahaha (💀)
@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.
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