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#i wrote some of this last year and it still stands
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Six Sentence Sunday
Happy Sunday Everyone!! Thanks to @monbons for tagging me, so excited for the next chapter of your fic!
I've been having a really good week, I finished up all my finals and all my papers, and I moved all my stuff out of my dorm room—meaning I'm back home now and ready for summer! I have two weeks before my main summer job starts, so that means a lot of time for writing! And I've already gotten a start by having a super productive week writing-wise this week as well (finally got some solid work in on my COBB fic, turns out getting some vampire name inspo from @fiend-for-culture and seeing the first peek of the artwork really brought back all my excitement for this wip!!!)
I'm posting the newest chapter of Proof of Life tomorrow, which is one that I'm super excited to share. Unfortunately, this is the last chapter in my backlog, so I'll have take a small posting break after this, but that just means that if you haven't had a chance to start reading yet, you have time to catch up 🙃
But even more exciting news! I realized that I missed the 2 year anniversary of the first fanfic I wrote for this fandom! After reading all three Carry On books, I absolutely devoured fanfiction for probably around 6 months before ever writing my own. And the only reason I wrote anything was because I had a scene absolutely stuck in my head, and no one else had written it yet. So honor of being a month late to it's birthday, here are 6ish sentences from the first fanfic I wrote: Tense Silence (under the cut because this is already getting long):
“You’re a vampire.” says Simon. His voice came from above me. “You really are.”
I look up to see Simon standing, staring down at me. He has the Sword of Mages in one hand and the silver cross dangling in the other. It is very close to my face. I turn my head away. He moves the cross closer. I close my eyes as I smell the metal hanging merely centimetres away from me. 
“You tried to bite me.” He says. “You really tried to drink my blood.”
As you can see, I started out the fandom almost exactly where I ended up—writing angsty vampire Baz fics. While there's some things that I would do differently now and a few noticeable mistakes (Simon's cross is gold not silver, Past Lily, get it right!), I'm still really proud of this fic. I remember spending weeks working on it and being very nervous to post this 6k fic, so it's definitely kind of crazy to look back it and see how much I've grown as a writer, and how many friends I've made in fandom since then.
Tags & Hellos!
@you-remind-me-of-the-babe @facewithoutheart @run-for-chamo-miles @raenestee @artsyunderstudy
@onepintobean @prettygoododds @noblecorgi @hushed-chorus @angelsfalling16
@thewholelemon @shrekgogurt @brendughh @a-maisie-ng @hertragedyconnoisseur
@beastmonstertitan @valeffelees @horsesarenotdeer @drowninginships @supercutedinosaurs
@fiend-for-culture @rimeswithpurple @cutestkilla @alexalexinii @ileadacharmedlife
@arthurkko @rbkzz
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Hello! Me again, back to pester you about lore.
So what's going on with The Drifter? For once I know a little about the character, I read 'A Man With No Name', but I still have questions. From how the book read, Drifter convinced Felwinter to get revenge for the destruction of the village. Did that go anywhere? And what did Drifter get up to for the (unspecified very long) timeskip between the book and the game?
And with the modern day, does the Vanguard know he's running a fighting ring out of the basement? Or does every single guardian look away when Zavala tries figuring out where people keep getting these weapons? I guess first rule of fight club and all that. What's he even trying to do? He seems to be pretty against most of the Vanguard's leadership.
Anyway, another invitation to infodump about your other blorbo. I hope you don't mind XD
If you thought I was long-winded about Eris... She's maybe 400 years old whereas the Drifter may be 900... get comfy... this will not be quick.
"Dark Age was wild times."
I adore the Drifter and a good chunk of how and why I adore him is his voice - both the voice acting and the syntax/diction/phrasing used in the writing, but voice alone does not cover why I find his character so utterly enthralling and fantastic.
I wrote a short piece consisting of Eris telling Ikora what she sees in him in my story Finders Keepers. It's basically a personality analysis and some people have (I think probably accurately) accused it of being a love letter to that character. (Reminder: that link is fanfiction - I wrote it - it is not lore, but it is based on lore. However, everything else I list after this is actual lore.)
But, personality aside, ultimately the Drifter's story is what I find most compelling about him and makes him so empathetic. You mentioned you've read A Man with No Name, but there's more. A lot more.
To start, the Drifter is D2's most violent pacifist.
He doesn't want to fight and when he does, it's vicious. The Emissary of the Nine, formerly Orin (his ex-best friend and/or ex-lover, depending upon how you read it aptly says "He hates violence. He hates it so much he'll murder anyone who tries to inflict it on him."
In A Man with No Name, we see him go from hiding in a town and having it obliterated by warlords, to running a bar at the bottom of Felwinter peak, to getting Lord Felwinter himself to avenge the town. Drifter doesn't fight anywhere in there and gets other people to do his fighting for him, which is a pretty standard tactic for him. And yes, it is strongly implied that Felwinter does indeed murder the fuck out of Lord Dryden when he says "Call Lord Dryden. Prepare my Iron Banner arsenal."
But then we get Dark Age Drifter entries where he's gunning down Fallen attackers with quotes like "He had never brought himself to shoot a human. Or anything even resembling a human. Risen included." (Bonus mention: notice "Alright" repeated here and compare to his standard Gambit opening of Alright, alright, alright...") Where he's slipping away from non-violence, specifying, in particular, that he won't shoot a human but will defend himself from aliens.
And then he becomes something else entirely in these amazing entries with what I've been calling his Breakneck crew:
Now Otto's a Sword man. He's all about "craft." Technique. Precision. It's disgusting, but I don't care how he does it, as long as it gets done, so I just let him do it. And Otto does it so beautifully that, when he's done, you're standing there holding your guts in your hands and thanking him for the show.
Never touches a gun, that girl. She likes to get close. Likes to look right in their eyes and be the last thing they see.
The chumps that run out to stop us are babies. That's the kicker with Warlords—other than ours, there's not a Ghost in sight here. Just civilians who can barely hold their guns without wetting their pants, who can't aim worth a damn, who stick their necks out for the bad guys with eternal life. Real geniuses.
Cenric stood up. That vein of his looked about ready to pop. Drifter let his feet down as he reached for his rifle, asp-quick. "And you know what we do with rats, don't you, brother."
And the thing I love about this is the character development this speaks to where he goes from pacifist who won't fight at all... to someone who will use a machine gun competently, repeating "Alright" and getting himself used to killing, but not humans, never humans... to stone cold vicious murder-Drifter talking about the lightless who die to his crew in ways that make them (and himself) seem no longer human, to gunning down his own crew, people he felt were a perfect team, when they make deals with warlords behind his back and lie to him about it.
The Drifter started out adhering to an ideal of nonviolence and it destroyed him and everyone he cared for. His sense of self, his principles, everything he believed in is eroded until he completely loses all hope and in order to survive the cruelty of the world he lives in he becomes a ruthless monster.
Either before or after his Breakneck-era crew (it's not clear), the Drifter (under the name Eli) joins the Pilgrim Guard, a group of Titans protecting lightless people as they travel to the Last City. He does this out of a desire/need to be near Orin, a Titan with a complicated past and strong ties to both Queen Mara and the Nine. But then after spending time with Eli/Drifter and the Pilgrim Guard, Orin, the one person Drifter's ever had a deep human connection with, the person he considers his best friend, leaves without a word.
It's very telling that the green snakes, the jade coin, and the red string on those same coins that form such profound parts of the Drifter's symbolism and identity all come from Orin. When the Drifter truly cares for someone, he incorporates part of them into himself, into his identity, making them part of who he becomes, so they live on inside of him.
After his time with Orin, we get into the extremely confusing, contradictory mess that is the Drifter's intersection with Shin Malfur-related Rose/Thorn/Lumina lore. And by this I mean that the Drifter, after fighting alongside people doing genuinely noble good work, in the wake of losing Orin, leaves the Pilgrim Guard and eventually ends up joining the evil cult of evil: following in the footsteps of one of the most reviled risen to ever exist - the guardian-killer: Dredgen Yor.
If you're gonna hang with me, you need to know about the Shadows of Yor. They follow the edicts of a very bad man named Dredgen Yor. And what're his Shadows after? Everything the Light can't provide. I thought they could help me find an answer to the battles of Light versus Light that raged during the Dark Age. But the longer I flew with them, the more I saw they're blind as all those who follow the Traveler. One albatross for another. I was done with 'em.
And while in the cult, in some sort of ritual, he communes with the Darkness directly and gets some sort of Darkness powers (possibly Stasis, possibly something else - it's super unclear) and the Darkness whispers to him his Dredgen name: Dredgen Hope, which is particularly brutal in context with this quote from Dredgen Yor himself:
I care only to give hope to the frightened, huddled masses so that when I come upon them they will have more to lose. Their pain will be greater. Their screams more pure… Nothing dies like hope. I cherish it.
But it is also particularly pointed because hope is the thing the Drifter doesn't have. Trust is the thing he doesn't have the ability to do any more because of his experiences (and is also the name of the hand cannon he wears shoved into his pants). He is the most jaded (literally - constantly fidgeting with a jade coin) character in the D2 universe. He loses everything and leans in on it and follows that path to full evil.
And then he walks away. Because evil doesn't work for him either.
But also (either before or after he's completely left the cult - it's ambiguous, but possibly when he's still entangled but it's already fracturing and falling apart) he finds Orin again (he's using the name Wu Ming at this point - either having returned to it, or because he hasn't changed it yet from Felwinter Peak, or perhaps this happens before Felwinter Peak - the order and timeline is somewhat fuzzy).
Orin does not remember who he is when he finds her the second time (she's pretty nuts at this point - her story is filled with madness and tragedy), and is going insane with grief over losing Namqi (the person she left with when she disappeared the first time) as well as her obsession with the Nine. And the Drifter is once more drawn to her and once more connects deeply with her:
Wu Ming leaves his questions by the wayside as he is drawn inexorably into the gravity well of her desperate honesty. Her confessions lower his defenses. He talks of himself. Of his fear. Of his loneliness. How he feels he is one fingernail away from plummeting into an abyss. How he feels vicious resentment every time he is brought back from the dead: He never asked for the gift of the Light... They make excuse after excuse to meet again. Every conversation is colored by excavated truths; every day they feel they will reach some bedrock that will break them to pieces. It is as frightening as it is intoxicating.
But then Orin finds out about him being a Dredgen, terminates their relationship, goes off to become the Emissary of the Nine and, as someone I was talking with once referred to it: 'it was a breakup so bad he had to leave the solar system.'
Things go very poorly the first time the Drifter loses Orin but the second time is far worse. He has a full-on Lovecraftian 'At the Mountains of Madness' style horror-movie-plot experience with a crew he calls his 'best friends' (which may or may not be all ex-Dredgens but there's at least evidence they might be) out on a frozen planet being stalked and driven to insane levels of paranoia by Darkness creatures able to snuff out their light:
I think I mentioned we're all raving psychos at this point. Well, we did what all measured raving psychos would do. We thought we each had been betrayed by the others. We drew on each other.
The Drifter kills them all to keep them from killing him (at least, that's what he says - no one else is alive to argue). Then his ghost, who up until now has been kind of a moralistic asshole, suggests he hunt down the ghosts of his former crew and Frankenstein them together in order to survive:
And the craziest thing happened. My Ghost snapped... But we would need parts. Ghost parts. And we knew where we could get some... The Ghosts of my former crew all fled as soon as their charges hit the dirt. So me'n mine, we hunted them... "Hey. There's always hope. For what it's worth, I'm proud of you." It was the last thing my Ghost ever said, and the last lie it ever told.
The Drifter's ghost is rendered mute from the experience (either mechanically or due to the trauma of hunting down and murdering other ghosts - it's not clear) but the plan works, they survive, and the Drifter builds the Derelict out of scrap, returning to the Tower where he sets up Gambit.
It's super unclear (again, the Shin-related lore is just a mess and deliberately confusing) but it turns out that Drifter going on about how the Man with the Golden Gun is out to get him is actually a deal he made with Shin to set up Gambit (because, spoiler: the leader of the entire Dredgen cult, Dredgen Vale, turns out to be none other than Shin Malphur, the Man with the Golden Gun, who hunts Dredgens and who the Drifter has been saying is out to get him this entire time) to draw out the truly Darkness-corrupted guardians so Shin can kill them. (And this is ultimately why the Vanguard lets him run a fighting ring in the basement - because Shin convinces them it will help find the truly bad guardians so they can be eliminated).
If you find that confusing, that's because it is. Anything to do with Shin Malphur/Dredgen Yor/Rose/Thorn/Lumnia is pretty much an acid-trip, continuity-wise. It hurts my brain.
As for where the Drifter gets the weapons he gives us for Gambit? To the surprise of no one, he's stealing them. Because of course he is. It's him.
While running Gambit, he ends up visited by the Emissary of the Nine (formerly Orin - same body, different person) and has the Haul attached to the Derelict as a 'gift' in this amazing cutscene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wFtmr___dSw
And he pretty much stays in "shifty morally ambiguous guy in the basement" mode until Arrivals when the pyramids show up on Io and we get one of my favourite lore tabs in all of D2: Whispering slab.
The two sit. They speak. They listen. Linkages forged in Light and Dark of traded secrets as the Derelict hangs in orbit around the Earth. Pacts are made. Soon, there is only the silence of knowing left between them.
"Next time you fly over the Moon, dust your boots. Tracking that crap all over my floors."
Both of the Drifter's deep emotional entanglements with Orin happen when he really genuinely talks to her, and now in Whispering Slab, he's genuinely talking to someone else, plus we get the origin of why he calls that someone else Moondust.
Then, during Arrivals, we get the amazing banter between him and Eris, and in Beyond Light they learn to control Stasis together with the result being (in my highly subjective opinion) the best cutscene in all of D2 : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IQAB-sSi6P0
At the end of Haunted we get Eris' message to him about healing and finding joy , he has this line in Plunder "What we do now matters more than who we were", we end up with the Kept Confidence lore tab during Season of the Witch where the person who previously insisted he trusted no one now is saying: "He didn't trust them. He trusted her" and then in the Gloaming Journeyer tab, he pulls her into a hug and reminds her of what she told him once (in the Prophesy dungeon dialogue): "That we'll live in the night if we have to. We do it for what comes after." (What comes after is dawn, hope, the continuance of existence after the darkest point.)
Someone in a chat I was in once summed up the core dynamic of the Drifter and Eris' relationship perfectly as "He gives her trust. She gives him hope."
There are people online who are very frustrated with the Drifter's character development, feeling that the Drifter has 'had his teeth filed off' and that he 'got his depression cured by getting a goth girlfriend' but I feel that's just people who don't like change. The Drifter has, throughout his entire storyline been constantly changing who he is. Change is part of his many self-constructed identities which he re-creates over and over as his old sense of self is destroyed and remade. Gritty vicious Drifter is still in there and he will be just as brutal as ever if he needs to be.
He doesn't want to be, though. He never has. And as someone who deals with medical-grade depression and who found themselves in a situation where they needed to reconstruct a sense of self to replace the one that was lost, the Drifter finding a way to hope and trust again after all he's been through is an extremely powerful and poignant narrative which speaks to me on many levels.
It's not trite, thoughtless happy fluffy rainbows, friendship-fixes-everything-whee! It's painful and slow and beautiful as the Drifter learns to have healthy relationships with other people. We need stories like this to speak to us at an unconscious level and tell us that even if you're not Eris Morn and you failed, and you gave up, and you didn't make it out of the Hellmouth, and you in fact gave in to despair and completely lost all hope, your experience erasing who it was you were and having that old you replaced with someone else, you can still find hope again. Even if you've been burned so severely by so many, many, negative human interactions that you cannot trust anyone, if you find the right people, you can slowly learn how to trust again.
The Drifter's story has been called a redemption arc, and I guess in a way it is that too but, for me, the essential quality of the Drifter's narrative isn't redemption: it's healing.
Stories have power. We incorporate them into who we are. Dredgen Hope ultimately does live up to his name. Within D2 he is finally starting to heal. I find that idea, of healing in spite of being so altered by one's experiences as to have had to become an entirely different person in order to survive, of being unable to trust and still finding a way to learn how to trust again, to be important and beautiful to have in my subconscious as something to draw from. It is a story that is very much needed by a lot of people. We need to be reminded that we can be irrevocably changed and have everything taken from us and still find a way to trust and hope and love again. That might seem a bit much for a shooty game, but I maintain this is why D2 has some of the best storytelling of any game I've ever played and that the character of the Drifter is a huge part of what makes that storytelling so compelling.
Sorry this took so long to answer. This seriously was as short as I could make it and still say everything that I felt needed to be said. There's more, and more detail, of course, but this is my treatise on why the Drifter is as awesome as I think he is.
That is all.
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hella1975 · 1 year
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ive got an essay due at 3pm tomorrow and ive not even looked at it i am so so unserious about my degree and by the grace of some higher being i somehow keep managing to crawl through it's actually getting a bit funny
#me and an old friend of mine used to have a running joke during a-levels that im just one of those people where shit Works Out#and it started bc we shared two a-levels (english and economics) and in BOTH classes i regularly didn't do the homework#or the reading etc and yet it would ALWAYS work out for me#like we'd walk into a class neither of us having done the homework and they'd get yelled at while i went under the radar somehow#or that one english essay i got the highest score in the class when i literally hadn't even read the fucking book it was on#and when we pointed the theory out it started just becoming really prevalent#like no matter how late i am for things i'll arrive and by some miracle the thing im late for is also late (e.g a train or teacher)#like im just one of those people that has very very mundane luck#and low and behold i am fighting this degree with bloody fists putting the absolute bare minimum in for my own sanity's sake#and i SOMEHOW keep pulling through. literally failed two modules last year and STILL got a 2:1 average#and the last essay i wrote was the worst essay id ever done in my life and i get my standards are higher bc ik im good at essays#but the point still stands and you know what? i got a FIRST#literally was pure waffle i have never blagged it so hard and i got a FIRST#and all this shit just makes me cockier and cockier and go even more by the skin of my teeth and it ALWAYS WORKS OUT#it's soooo silly but im not complaining. anyway ill keep u posted about this essay <3 it's econ history so is actually interesting#but the most ive done for it is ask the sc ai lmao and for context degree-level essays usually require a good few days of graft#live love laziness#hella goes to uni
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snixx · 2 years
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my most formative friendships will always be with the scared-of-balls girls who consistently got picked last with me for team sports in pe and with whom I’d spend the whole period complaining with in loser solidarity <3
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fiercynn · 1 month
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on ao3's current fundraiser
apparently it’s time for ao3’s biannual donation drive, which means it’s time for me to remind you all, that regardless of how much you love ao3, you shouldn’t donate to them because they HAVE TOO MUCH MONEY AND NO IDEA WHAT TO DO WITH IT.
we’ve known for years that ao3 – or, more specifically, the organization for transformative works (@transformativeworks on tumblr), or otw, who runs ao3 and other fandom projects – has a lot of money in their “reserves” that they had no plans for. but in 2023, @manogirl and i did some research on this, and now, after looking at their more recent financial statements, i’ve determined that at the beginning of 2024, they had almost $2.8 MILLION US DOLLARS IN SURPLUS.
our full post last year goes over the principles of how we determined this, even though the numbers are for 2023, but the key points still stand (with the updated numbers):
when we say “surplus”, we are not including money that they estimate they need to spend in 2024 for their regular expenses. just the extra that they have no plan for
yes, nonprofits do need to keep some money in reserves for emergencies; typically, nonprofits registered in the u.s. tend to keep enough to cover between six months and two years of their regular operating expenses (meaning, the rough amount they need each month to keep their services going). $2.8 million USD is enough to keep otw running for almost FIVE YEARS WITHOUT NEW DONATIONS
they always overshoot their fundraisers: as i’m posting this, they’ve already raised $104,751.62 USD from their current donation drive, which is over double what they’ve asked for! on day two of the fundraiser!!
no, we are not trying to claim they are embezzling this money or that it is a scam. we believe they are just super incompetent with their money. case in point: that surplus that they have? only earned them $146 USD in interest in 2022, because only about $10,000 USD of their money invested in an interest-bearing account. that’s the interest they earn off of MILLIONS. at the very least they should be using this extra money to generate new revenue – which would also help with their long-term financial security – but they can’t even do that
no, they do not need this money to use if they are sued. you can read more about this in the full post, but essentially, they get most of their legal services donated, and they have not, themselves, said this money is for that purpose
i'm not going to go through my process for determining the updated 2024 numbers because i want to get this post out quickly, and otw actually had not updated the sources i needed to get these numbers until the last couple days (seriously, i've been checking), but you can easily recreate the process that @manogirl and i outlined last year with these documents:
otw’s 2022 audited financial statement, to determine how much money they had at the end of 2022
otw’s 2024 budget spreadsheet, to determine their net income in 2023 and how much they transferred to and from reserves at the beginning of 2024
otw’s 2022 form 990 (also available on propublica), which is a tax document, and shows how much interest they earned in 2022 (search “interest” and you’ll find it in several places)  
also, otw has not been accountable to answering questions about their surplus. typically, they hold a public meeting with their finance committee every year in september or october so people can ask questions directly to their treasurer and other committee members; as you can imagine, after doing this deep dive last summer, i was looking forward to getting some answers at that meeting!
but they cancelled that meeting in 2023, and instead asked people to write to the finance committee through their contact us form online. fun fact: i wrote a one-line message to the finance committee on may 11, 2023 through that form, when @manogirl and i were doing this research, asking them for clarification on how much they have in their reserves. i have still not received a response.
so yeah. please spend your money on people who actually need it, like on mutual aid requests! anyone who wants to share their mutual aid requests, please do so in the replies and i’ll share them out – i didn’t want to link directly to individual requests without permission in case this leads to anyone getting harassed, but i would love to share your requests. to start with, here's operation olive branch and their ongoing spreadsheet sharing palestinian folks who need money to escape genocide.
oh, and if you want to write to otw and tell them why you are not donating, i'm not sure it’ll get any results, but it can’t hurt lol. here's their contact us form – just don’t expect a response! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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ferrstappen · 2 months
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SLUT! l MV1 imagine
a/n: hey! I’m alive, I hope some of you are alive as well and willing to read something 💘 this is short and just a random idea I had before diving into writing some longer pieces with more plot, but I really hope you like it and as you know, feedback is very very welcome!!! Also I’m sorry if it’s weird or any mistakes bc I wrote this on my phone 💘
Summary: this isn’t your first time being a WAG, but people don’t seem to like the idea of you ending your relationship with Joe Burrow and falling in love with Max.
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Looking around, you could tell that this wasn't an ordinary place. The sound of engines revving, the vivid colors of various vehicles, and the hustle and bustle of multiple teams, engineers, sponsors, drivers, and fans walking around the paddock all added to the excitement. It was a truly remarkable sight to behold. The energy was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe taking it all in.
In your previous relationship, your boyfriend would make grand entrances at the stadium, sporting his fancy Cartier sunglasses and jamming to his favorite tunes. He wouldn't pay much attention to the photographers snapping away as he strolled past them, and you'd catch a glimpse of him from afar in a lavish suite. That was quite a contrast to your current situation, which you're still adjusting to.
You were greeted by a well-dressed individual who was sporting the logos of Red Bull, Oracle, and Honda all over their outfit. They handed you a VIP all-access paddock pass which had your name and headshot printed on it, along with details of whose guest you were. To top it off, they also put a Red Bull credential on your wrist. The assistant then guided you towards the power station, where you were hopping to finally catch Max after weeks of not seeing each other.
You never meant to be in this position. You were in a happy, stable, loving relationship, truly. But last year one night in Las Vegas, your boyfriend, Joe, was invited to the Las Vegas Grand Prix, and of course, you both attended, curious and excited about the event. Neither of you knew it would be the beginning of the end.
Your first meeting with Max was captured on camera.
Max and Joe, the reigning Formula 1 champion and the Cincinnati Bengals quarterback together was gold content for the Red Bull socials, and there you were in the back, knowing your place smiling at the interaction, but when you were least expecting it, the champion stretched his hand and introduced himself, catching you and your boyfriend off guard.
As soon as he spoke, I noticed his friendly yet polite tone. "Hi, I'm Max," he introduced himself with a warm smile. His simple gesture of introducing himself made him instantly likable and set him apart from the others in the crowd.
“Hi Max, I’m (y/n). Thanks for the invitation,” you shook the hand that wasn’t holding a can of Red Bull.
“Right. Max, this is my girlfriend. She’s the happiest here because she’s a Red Bull addict,” Joe added, earning a soft laugh from you and a smile from Max.
“Then you came to the right place, (y/n). The mini fridges are all yours, and I’m pretty sure the ones on the second floor have limited editions,”
You thought that was all you were going to see of him, barely catching him after his win to congratulate him, but oh were you wrong, seeing him with a warm gray pull-up hoodie and styled blond hair, sipping gin and tonic and waving his hand as people chanted his name to the tune of a song.
Tu Tu Du Du, Max Verstappen
Or something along those lines.
The moment he recognized you, a sudden rush of excitement and anticipation sent a buzz through your stomach that was impossible to ignore. You felt a mixture of nervousness and elation as he leaned in for a short cheek kiss, the scent of gin lingering on your nose as you briefly noticed the small mole on his upper lip. Despite the presence of your boyfriend standing behind you, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of emotions inside.
“I heard you ransacked the energy station,” A drunk Max Verstappen told you.
“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and at the same time you felt Joe’s arms tight around your waist.
“There weren't any Red Bulls left on the building after you left, maybe I'll have to send a PR package your way,” Max slurred, taking a new sip from his gin and tonic glass.
You couldn’t answer because Joe was faster: “we’ll sure enjoy that, thank you. Wanna go mingle, babe?”
That was almost five months ago as you made your way in sunny Melbourne, doing your best to avoid prying eyes who were aware of the events that took place last November and how you left Joe Burrow the quarterback for Max Verstappen the racing driver.
But it’s not like you wanted to.
After the first box full of sugar free Red Bull arrived with a note, you left a message on his Instagram before posting a story, tagging him and the team.
The he started sending silly memes, followed by the description of the Red Bull ingredients written in Arabic while on Abu Dhabi.
In February, things had reached a point where it was impossible to ignore any longer. You knew it was time to end things with Joe, and when you did, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Suddenly, you were free to do as you pleased, to go where you wanted to go. And so, when Max invited you to go to Bahrain for testing, you jumped at the opportunity.
It was on this trip that you experienced your first date with Max. You both had such a great time together, laughing until your stomachs hurt. You tried your best to hold back your wandering eyes, but you couldn't help noticing the adorable mole on his lip. And then, when the night sky had blanketed the Middle East, he leaned in and kissed you, sending shivers down your spine. It was a magical moment that you would never forget.
But the next day, your first day on the track, a random person recognized you and rumors went crazy, name-calling, attacks, fans carrying signs “What happened with #9”, grown men calling you a bitch, a whore, a gold digger, jumping from one dick to another. It was so much that Max decided to send you to his home in Monaco, not even caring if you were there for the first Grand Prix of the season, he just needed you to be okay.
As you walked towards the energy station, the ground beneath your feet felt firm, yet your steps were hesitant and shy. You were not alone, though, as someone from the team was following your every move, as per Max's orders. The team wanted to ensure that you were safe and secure as you made your way towards the Red Bull hospitality. Once you arrived, a collective sigh of relief was released, and you waited patiently for Max to arrive. The anticipation in the air was palpable as everyone eagerly awaited his arrival.
You vividly remember that moment when he finally arrived at the paddock, dressed in his Red Bull shirt, shorts, and cap, looking so handsome and sporty. You couldn't help but rush towards him, feeling a surge of excitement and joy. As you hugged him tightly, he smiled and hummed softly, clearly enjoying your touch and warmth. You noticed that he was trying to register your scent, perhaps to make the moment even more intimate and memorable.
You knew he was about to lean in for a cheek kiss, but something inside you urged you to do something bolder and more passionate. So, without hesitating, you turned around, making sure his larger frame was facing the outside, away from prying eyes. Then, you carefully grabbed his face with both hands, feeling his strong jawline and stubble under your fingers. You looked deeply into his eyes, savoring the moment, before leaning in and kissing his full lips.
The kiss was electrifying and unexpected, taking him by surprise, but he quickly responded with equal passion and tenderness. You felt his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, as you lost yourself in the blissful moment. It was a moment of pure connection and love, one that you would always treasure in your heart.
Despite being called all sorts of names by people, you refused to let it get to you. You were determined to continue showing your deep admiration and affection for Max, no matter what others thought or said. You believed that your feelings were genuine and authentic, and you were not going to let anyone else's opinion sway you. Despite the challenges and obstacles you faced, your love for Max remained unwavering and waiting to grow bigger.
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m0llygunn · 10 months
Text
The Blackout (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)
Summary: A state wide power outage during the hottest days of the year leave you and eddie getting on each others nerves with only one way to work it out...
Warnings: 18+! smut, mature language, pet names (baby, sweetheart), oral (f receiving), p in v sex (no protection), creampie, sweaty sex, porn with plot, both eddie and reader are kind of mean to each other, no y/n. Author’s note: its summer and way too hot out so i wrote this idk wc: 3.3k
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹
“Its so fucking hot.” He groans.
“Eddie, if I can’t say I’m bored you can’t say you’re hot.” 
I didn’t say I was hot, I said it was hot.” Eddie snaps, heat driving him to agitation.
“Go for a fucking walk then, I don’t know what to tell you.” You snap back.
The power’s been out for three days, with the outage reaching across most of the state. 
Three whole fucking days during a record breakingly hot summer. 
With the power being out, that means no A/C, no TV, no phone, no radio, no nothing. They’re calling it ‘The Blackout’ by what you gathered from neighbours. It is truly a moment of history that you’re sharing with Eddie, and it’s been fucking miserable. 
“Jesus Christ.” Eddie groans, standing from the opposite end of the couch. “It’s just as fucking hot out there, why would you even think a walk would be a good idea?” 
“Stop being pissy.” You warn. 
He shoots you a glare before pulling his shirt off over his head. Why he even bothered putting a shirt on after his shower, escapes you. The only thing that has kept you both from completely withering away in the stifling, suffocating heat has been taking showers. The only downside of it is that the water heater obviously uses electricity so the water is uncomfortably cold. 
You watch as he crosses to the kitchen.
“Do you think the milk would still be good?” He asks, hand on the fridge door, looking in your direction.
“Why would I know?” You reply snarkily, still mad over him snapping at you. 
“Holy shit, it was just a question.” He groans. “Fuck— and you think I’m being pissy.” He mumbles under his breath as he quickly opens the fridge, grabbing the milk and shutting it just as fast to try and preserve some of the cold air inside. 
“I heard that.” You yell back.
“You were supposed to.” He retorts. You watch him as he sniffs the milk, nose scrunching in response.
“It’s bad?” You ask.
He doesn’t respond, he just starts dumping it down the sink, slamming the empty carton down onto the counter.
It’s been so hot you both haven’t had the energy to do anything besides argue. The first day you both thought it was semi-interesting seeing everything out of power and watching people gathering outside to excitedly chatter about it, but as the remaining cold air from the air conditioner turned hot, it wasn’t fun anymore. Then the bickering started. 
You continue watching him as he opens the fridge again, this time grabbing a beer, and quickly closing the fridge like last time. 
He cracks the can and you can tell from the scowl on his face as he takes a sip that it’s warm. 
“It’s warm?” You ask, purely just to annoy him. You have to admit, his pissy mood is helping with your boredom, he’s serving as quite the entertainment. 
You watch as he slams the can down on the counter.
“Are you being annoying on purpose?” He asks, brows pinched, eyes narrowed in on you.
“Are you being annoying on purpose?” You mock, pitching your voice up into a nasally tone. 
“Fucking stop it.” He scolds, brows pinching even more harshly. 
“Fucking stop it.” You mock quietly, turning in your seat on the couch to face away from Eddie.
You hear what sounds like him gulping the beer before heavy stomps heading straight for you.
“You’re pissing me off on purpose?” He asks. 
Out of your periphery you can see him standing beside you, arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m not doing anything.” 
“You are.”
The corners of your lips tug up and as much as you try to stop it, you can’t.
“Do you think this is funny?” Eddie asks bewilderedly, not even the slightest bit amused by you. 
“I don’t think anything about this is funny, Eddie.” You reply, your smile maturing into a smirk.
Eddie huffs, moving to sit back down beside you on the couch, making sure to sit as far away from you as possible. He exhales a deep sigh and you can tell he’s pissed by the way his jaw repeatedly clenches. 
You slowly shift so your feet are up on the couch. Eddie's eyes are set forward, ignoring you on purpose.
Inch by inch you stretch your legs out until your toes are poking him in the side. He doesn’t react so you wiggle your toes, digging them in harder. 
Without even sparing you a look, he grabs both of your feet pulling them on his lap, holding them tightly so they can’t move. 
“Eddie, let go.” You whine as you try to escape the grips he has around your ankles. He ignores you.
You have two choices. You could lay here quietly or you could make things exponentially worse. 
Exponentially worse sounds more entertaining.
You huff a breath and notice the way Eddie’s jaw clenches right after. You sigh, and he does it again. 
You breathe comically loud and you swear you see his eye twitch.
One more sigh and you’re sure he’ll break his little silent treatment, so you let out a soft breathy sigh.
Nothing. Not even a jaw clench this time. You’re positive he’s just trying his best to ignore you now but you know two little words that have driven him up the wall for the last three days. 
“Eddie, I’m bored.” You whine, and sure enough he breaks. His head turns in your direction, eyes burning into you. 
You think he’s gonna say something but instead he pulls you by the feet, grabbing your arm so you’re practically sitting in his lap.
“You’re bored?” He coos, taunting you. He pulls at your limbs, getting you to straddle his hips, your hands landing on his bare chest. 
“Don’t.” You warn, despite your increased heart rate at getting the exact response you were looking for. 
“Aw but my baby’s bored, doesn’t she just want a little attention?” He continues his taunting, looking at you with a faux concern. 
“You’re all sweaty.” You say, feeling his sticky skin under your fingertips.
“Baby, it’s cause you got me all worked up now. Pissing me off on purpose just for a quick laugh, right?” He says, pulling you closer to him with his hands on your hips. “What wrong, sweetheart? Where’s that smile from earlier? Seems to have disappeared now that you got what you wanted.” He teases.
“Wasn’t trying to piss you off.” You huff. 
“Baby, you got what you wanted didn’t you? No use in lying.” He proceeds with his taunt. 
“M’not lying.” You whisper, watching your fingers as you skate them down his sweat slicked chest. When he sternly says your name you look up at him.
“Baby, there’s no way you just said all that stuff without purposefully saying it to annoy me.” He says, cutting out all the coos, teasing, and taunting.
“Oh, so you think I’m annoying?” You say, raising your brows at him. 
“Oh my god.” Eddie groans, throwing his head back against the couch in defeat. 
You watch him as his brows pinch and his eyes squeeze shut to try and calm himself. You're about to speak again to scold him, but his hips shift below yours, his hard length pressed between your thighs.  
“Oh my god.” You gasp. “You’re hard?” 
His eyes shoot open, glaring at you for pointing it out so flagrantly. You didn’t think he was getting this worked up. Truthfully you were just doing this for a quick laugh, not a quick fuck. 
“What did you think I was doing?” He asks, hands squeezing your hips, eyes still burning into you. Evidently you both were on separate pages but feeling his length still pressing into you, you're quickly switching over to the same wavelength as Eddie, but not without a little more entertainment. 
“Accusing me of being annoying and a liar.” You shrill, tilting your head at him. 
“Oh my god, you need to stop talking.” He says, hands pulling you by the cheeks towards his face. He presses his lips to yours and only then you process what he just said.
“Don’t tell me to stop talking.” You say, pulling away from the kiss. 
“Shhh.” He hushes, pulling you back in, his lips pressing back to yours
“Don’t tell me to shush.” You say, pulling back once more. 
Eddie groans, head falling forward to rest against your chest.
After a few deep breaths he pulls away. When he looks at you again, you can tell he’s still annoyed but he’s trying to relax his features.
“Do you want to fuck or not?” He asks, purposefully softening his voice. 
“Ever the romantic.” You scoff.
“Baby.” He says, starting to reduce to a whine.
You find both amusement and pity in him, opting to grind your hips against his. His hands fall to your sides again, guiding you against him. 
“So is that a yes?” He asks, mouth falling open as you pass over his length. 
“You told me to stop talking.” You reply, smile tugging on your lips. You spread your thighs further, dropping your weight onto his crotch and he gasps, chasing it with a deep exhale.
“Talk, don’t talk, I don’t care, just keep doing that.” He grunts, lifting his hips enough to meet yours. 
“Don’t be fucking rude.” You say, lifting your hips from his. When you watch his face, his annoyance falls into desperation and defeat as he attempts to chase after you with his hips before deflating into the couch with a ‘humph’.
"Fuck, please, baby.” He groans, pinching your skin between his fingers with his harsh grip on your thighs. 
“Say you’re sorry.” You demand, hips still lifted from him. 
“I’m sorry baby, let me show you how sorry I am.” He whines, bringing his face to sit against your chest, pressing kisses into your skin wherever he can reach. 
“Fine.” You reply, smiling to yourself as you place both palms flat on his chest to guide yourself as you resume your grinding. 
He lets you continue the glide of your hips against him for a moment before his hands rise to your waist, lifting you up and peeling himself from the couch. 
He flips you, sitting you back against the couch while sinking to his knees on the floor in front of you. 
“C’mon baby, let’s get these off.” He says lowly, fingers tangling in the lace of your panties under your oversized shirt. You lift your hips and he quickly pulls them off, throwing them beside him. 
He grabs your hips again, pulling you to the edge of the couch, immediately connecting his mouth to your cunt. 
You whimper as his tongue licks up your slit, swirling around your clit. He’s quick to introduce his fingers, plunging two inside of you, bringing them in and out at a pace he knows you like. 
“Look at you, all quiet and happy now.” Eddie laughs. You look down at him between your legs and his eyes are focused on you, pupils blown wide and sparkling in amusement as his skin glistens in a sheer sweat. 
You don’t respond to him, you just watch with a slack jaw as his mouth works against you, fingers massaging that sweet spot inside, drawing all sorts of whimpers and moans from your lungs. 
Your pleasure keeps building and building, tension becoming a hot blur inside of you until Eddie’s mouth stops completely. A whined cry escapes your lips as the crescendo of your high is pulled from you. 
“How do you have me showing you that I’m sorry? You’re the one who was purposefully pissing me off.” Eddie questions, brows furrowed. It’s not a sly tease or a playful trick of the moment, it’s a genuine realization that’s just come to him. 
“Eddie.” You whine. 
“No, seriously. You’re the one who started this, why am I sorry?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You groan. 
“No.” He retorts, brows pinched. You sink your weight into the couch, exhaling through your nose before looking back at Eddie. 
“Eddie, I was so close to coming.” You whine, bringing your hands to his face to push his sweaty bangs back, trying to will him to continue.
“Say sorry then.” He says firmly, ignoring your hands on his face.
“Eddie.” You whine again. He raises his eyebrows at you expectantly and you sigh harshly bring your arms to your chest, folding them in a pout. “Do you want me to give you a blow job, is that what this is about?” He blinks at you slowly before opening his mouth. 
“I want you to say sorry.” He pushes, refusing to be distracted by your offer. 
“Sorry.” You mumble, annoyed that he’s really making you apologize mid fuck. 
“What was that, couldn’t quite hear you.” He says, smile ghosting over his lips as he turns his ear to you, cupping it with his hand.
“I said sorry.” You snap. His smile turns into a dimpled grin as his eyes bleed pure amusement. 
“Get down here.” He laughs, pulling you down the couch further, wrapping his arms around your back and maneuvering you to the floor.
“Eddie!” You shriek as your body hits the floor, his hands guiding you downwards. You’re greeted with a coolness against your back that feels refreshing against your boiling hot skin. 
“It’s cooler down here.” He says, lowering his face to kiss at your shirt clad chest before his hands grab at the hem. You sit up enough for him to raise the shirt over your head, tossing it to the side, leaving you bare on the floor in front of him. 
He sits up, unbuckling his pants, tugging them down.
“Gonna fuck you right here on the floor, baby.” He mumbles, fumbling distractedly with his pants that stick to his sweaty skin. It takes him a while, but when they're finally off, boxers removed with them, he wastes no time running his fist up and down his length before bringing it to your core. 
“Ready, baby?” 
“I was ready about 5 minutes ago before you started fighting with your pant—” You sneer before Eddie pushes into you, interrupting your snarky comment by punching all the air from your lungs. 
“Baby, you really gotta quit that attitude, it’s too fucking hot in here for that.” He grunts, punctuating every other word with thrusts into you.
The stretch of him filling you up and the force behind each jut of his hips leaves your head spinning. 
“Eddie.” You moan, feeling your lost pleasure resurface quickly, tension already building in your lower belly.
Your heavy breathing gets buried under the echoes of sticky skin slapping together with each of Eddie's pistoling movements. His plunging thrusts working his cock deep inside of you, the adrenaline of your non-stop arguing working as fuel for him fervently fucking you. 
Reaching your arms up to him, you bring your hands to his back, grasping for purchase against his sweaty skin, resorting to using your nails to keep you tethered to him as he fucks you into the carpeted floor. 
“You like that, baby? Just wanted me to fuck you, huh? Getting me all pissed off so I can give it to you nice and hard.” He grunts, one of his hands releasing the tight squeeze on your thighs to graze over your chest, the heat of his hand searing your skin, leaving you tingling under the trail of his touch.
“Mhmm” You moan, agreeing mindlessly, lost in pleasure. You look up at Eddie, his brows furrowed in pleasure, mouth dropped agape, hair stuck to his face and you feel a burst of adoration for him. 
“Eddie.” You whine, using your grip on him to pull him down. “Kiss.” You add, and he lowers to you immediately. His lips meet yours, both of you working your lips together in a salty kiss tainted by the mixing sweat of your upper lips. He continues thrusting into you, the new position as he licks into your mouth offering an added friction to your clit with each plunge making you gasp and moan into his mouth. 
“Fuck.” He groans. “Feels so good, baby.” His kisses stop but he doesn’t let his lips leave you entirely, breathing his words into your mouth. 
The sweltering hot knot in your belly grows impossibly tight, each thrust of his hips reaching deeper inside of you while his hot breath funnels directly into your mouth leaving you absolutely dizzy.
“G-gonna cum, Eddie.” You stutter, lower belly tensing so harshly your breathing only comes in harsh pants.
“Cum for me, baby. Need to feel you cum.” He groans.
You let go, body vibrating, and in the heat of the house it feels like everything inside of you is boiling over in an orgasmic haze. Your skin prickles, as Eddie’s thrusting grows more erratic.
You grip harshly against his skin, fingers slipping and nails digging in harder with every final thrust bringing you through your searing high. 
“Fuck. Fuck, squeezing me so hard, baby.” He whimpers, hips meeting yours as he pushes deeply inside of you, balls tensing and cock twitching as he fills you up with the warm milkiness of his cum. He thrusts in and out of you, hips stuttering as he rides through his high before collapsing on top of you. 
His chest pushes against yours with every gasp of air as he catches his breath and you slowly but surely come back to reality. Reality— which is an absolutely sweltering hot, sweaty man on top of you. 
“You’re so sweaty.” You whisper, feeling the stickiness of his face press against your cheek, his hair sticking all over his face and your face. He laughs, the hot air of his breath fanning over the dripping sweat on your neck. 
“You too.” He says, pushing himself up with his arms to look at you. With drips of sweat beading down his temples, bangs sticking in all different directions, every hint of annoyance is gone from his eyes, leaving behind a hazy contentment mixed with adoration. 
“I think you gave me carpet burn.” You say, smiling despite the stinging burn on your back that you only notice now as he shifts on top of you, relieving you of his weight. 
“I think you drew blood.” He laughs, mirroring your smile. He sits up on his knees, pulling out from you with a mirrored gasp between the two of you. 
On his knees, he twists his upper body showing you the angry red lines you drew on his back with your nails. You gasp and he turns back around, looking at you with a knowing smile. 
“Here, sit up, baby.” He says, holding his arms out for you. You take them and he tugs you up, peering behind you at your back.
“Yup, s’all red.” He laughs. 
“Shower?” You say, pulling yourself closer to him. He pulls you up from the floor, slippery grip making you slide from him until he boosts you up, reclaiming a firm grip on your ass. 
“Fuck yeah, we need a shower.” He breathes as he walks you to the bathroom, kicking the door open. 
You and Eddie spent the next few hours sitting in the tub finding salvation from the muggy heat in the freezing cold water that runs from the tap. It was an uncomfortable fit in the small tub but with your knees pressed to your chest, your back to his front, and one of his calves hanging over the ledge, you both sat together, chattering quietly until you both were pruny and ready to get out. 
By the late evening, you were on better terms, arguing reduced to nothing but a playful teasing lilt.
Just as you both started to get ready for bed, the lights turned back on along with the beautiful melody of the air conditioner vibrating from the window. 
The room cooled down drastically, leaving you both happy and allowing for you to cuddle in bed, completely sweat free.
As soon as your heads hit your pillows, with your bodies relaxing into each other as you nodded off to sleep, everything that transpired in the heated power outage reduced to a moment of the past that you two will grow to laugh at over time. 
You did gather one thing though, getting Eddie riled up before sex is extremely entertaining. 
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹
4K notes · View notes
ellecdc · 6 days
Note
hi!! i saw that you had your request open and i was thinking maybe poly! marauders + lily taking out (or asking) reader on a first date? i think it would be cute.
i read your last fic on them and i loved how you wrote for them! also i just want to say i love your writing!!
poor shy reader - thoughts and prayers fr
marauders + lily x shy!reader who go on a date
CW: continuation from this fic, fem!reader is in Hufflepuff, some nerves/anxiety, fluff
You’ve made a mistake.
You’ve made a mistake and think it might be too late to do anything.
“Are you almost ready? The Gryffindor’s bullied a first year into letting them into the common room and now they’re downstairs waiting for you.” One of your roommates advised you in a bored tone as she moved to sit on her bed.
You’ve made a mistake.
“Can you tell them I’m poorly or something?” You begged; tone inlaid with a shrill quality you tried to clear away. “I can’t do this.”
She looked at you like you had grown three heads. “What? You can’t go on a date with four of the hottest people in our year? Get a grip.”
“Please.” You tried again.
“I’m not a bloody owl, L/N.” She spat as she opened up a magazine, effectively shutting you out.
You stared at yourself in the mirror again; the fourth outfit you tried on for your date with the four Gryffindor’s you’d stupidly agreed to while still sat in Remus’ lap at the Gryffindor party where you’d actually sodding kissed Lily Evans.
You’ve made a mistake.
“Hey gorgeous.” You heard at your dorm room door, causing your room mate to groan dramatically as she fell backwards on her bed. 
Lily’s auburn eyebrows furrowed at her before her eyes flit back to you; any tension immediately melting into a look far too soft to be for you. “Are you ready to go?”
No.
You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time; you were about to be escorted to Hogsmeade by the most beautiful people to grace the halls of Hogwarts arguably ever and you couldn’t help but feel entirely too plain. 
Lily breathed out a chuckled through her nose and moved to stand behind you, looking at your reflection in the mirror as she moved a lock of your hair behind your shoulder. “As much as I too would love to sit here and admire your reflection, I’m afraid it’s not wise to leave the boys alone unattended for too long.” She murmured as she pressed a kiss to your cheek.
They were going to be the death of you.
As if punctuating the end of Lily’s sentence and your thoughts, you heard a faint popping sound from the common room and the sound of chuckling.
“We ought to go.” Lily said, casually (for her…not for you) taking your hand and all but dragging you out of your room.
When you got downstairs, it was to the sight of first year Hufflepuffs glaring as menacingly as first year Hufflepuffs could as they all marched past the Marauders.
“What did you boys do now?” Lily chided playfully as they all turned to see you.
Their mischievous smiles quickly turned soft and sweet as they took you in. 
“Oh my gods!” James exclaimed as he stepped towards the two of you. “My sweet Lily flower, where did you find this angel?”
Your gaze dropped immediately to your feet as Lily - the traitor - moved away from your side to stand near Remus. 
“I’d ask if it hurt when you fell from heaven but, I don’t see a single imperfection, Gorgeous.” Sirius continued.
You huffed and crossed your arms as you looked across the room to see the first years still glaring at the group of you as they shed their - quite ashey - robes.
“Erm, why are the first years shaking ash off their robes?” You asked cautiously. 
As if they had only just remembered that they’d been causing mischief a mere few moments ago, James and Sirius stepped into action. 
“Oh right!” James said with an awkward laugh. “We, uhm, we should get going.” 
And before you could ask any follow up questions (or ask to reschedule, perhaps), you had Sirius on one of your arms and James on the other and were being ushered from the Hufflepuff common room.
Helga help me. 
The other four did most of the talking on your walk to Hogsmeade, which you were eternally grateful for. But you were now standing in line at Zonko’s - to which the boys insisted they go and Lily had left it up to you and…well…have you seen those boys? How were you expected to say no? - and you felt like every other student’s eyes were on you.
What is she doing with them? You could imagine them snickering to each other. 
Think this is one of their pranks? Their friends would respond. 
Evans usually isn’t the type but… it could be funny to watch anyhow.
Your body was itchy and your skin felt hot; you needed to get out of the store.
“Hey.” James murmured quietly, resting his chin on your shoulder as his body created a barrier between you and the other patrons of the store; strong arms wrapping protectively around your front as the other three pretended not to notice. “I think we lost you there for a second; you okay?”
You nodded, not quite trusting your voice not to betray your anxiety. 
“Do you regret agreeing to come out with us?” He asked quietly; no ire or contempt detected in his voice. He truly was just trying to check in and make sure you were okay.
“No.” You responded firmly, quickly. Clearing your throat and responding again. “No, I don’t.”
You could feel James smile as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. “We’re almost done here and then we can go wherever you want.” He promised; and though that had been the end of the conversation, he stayed glued (what certainly felt like possessively) to your side until you had all exited the joke shop and stood on the cobble stoned roads of Hogsmeade. 
“So where do you wanna go, Princess?” Sirius asked as everyone paused to face you in a semi-circle.
For the ground to swallow me up, maybe? 
“Erm, I…I’m not sure, I didn’t…really think about it.” You admitted awkwardly, wrapping your arms around your middle as if trying to shield yourself from your dates’ gazes. 
Sirius looked like he was going to make a teasing remark when Lily elbowed him. 
“Do you like sweets? Why don’t we head to Honeydukes; Moony needs to restock his chocolate stash anyway.” James offered jovially, turning towards the direction of the sweets shop without waiting to see if anyone was following him.
Sirius winked at a blushing Remus as he and Lily followed James and Sirius offered you his hand.
“Come on; I’ll buy you a pack of those sugar quills you like.” He said as he swung your hands between the two of you playfully, slowly following your little group towards the shop.
“How d’you know I like sugar quills?” You asked quietly, earning you a snort from the black-haired boy. 
“Do you know Lily’s favourite lolly flavour?”
You felt your cheeks heat but nodded. “Cherry.”
He made a quiet proud sound as he carried on. “And James? What does he like from Honeydukes?”
“Jelly Slugs - particularly the watermelon flavour.”
Sirius hummed in acknowledgement and bumped into you before continuing to swing your arms together. “And mine?” He asked; and if you weren’t mistaken, there was a hint of vulnerability in the notoriously cocky boy's voice. 
You smiled up at him at that. “The Peppermint Toads.”
That caused him to beam at you, looking down at your lips before his brows furrowed slightly and he dropped his gaze shyly to his boots.
“And how do you know our favourite sweets?”
You grumbled and went to pull your hand away from him, but he held fast. “Because I’m a creepy tosser.”
He let out an offended scoff at that and pulled you over to him, tickling at your sides in punishment. “You are not a creepy tosser, you little minx!” 
He relented his attack on your sides as you fought to catch your breath; staring up into his silver gaze in anticipation - for what? You weren’t sure. 
“Is it because, perhaps, you fancy us?” He offered. 
You lowered your head to his chest; embarrassed at being known, perceived, caught in your obvious affections for them - notwithstanding the fact that you’d actually accepted an invitation for a date with them which should have tipped them off anyways. 
“So,” Sirius continued, resting his chin on top of your head and pulling you in tighter to his chest. “Shouldn’t we know the same of you if we were to fancy you?”
You sucked in a deep breath - definitely not savouring the smell of sandalwood and mint emanating from Sirius’ chest - and pulled away.
“It would have been quite brash of me to assume so many Gryffindor’s could possibly fancy me.” You admitted quietly as you carried on towards the shop where James was waiting rather impatiently as Lily tried to convince him to stand still. 
“Then be brash, darling.” Sirius drawled. “‘Cause it’s true.”
“Don’t kill the poor thing before we’ve a chance to spoil her, Pads.” James called as Lily and Remus smiled at you.
“I’m not, I’m not.” Sirius grumbled as he swatted James’ arse and all but forced him into the store.
“Can’t believe you didn’t kiss her.” Lily hissed as they walked ahead of you and Remus.
“I was nervous!” You heard Sirius whisper back.
“Nervous!?” James and Lily bawked; you and Remus sharing a shy, awkward smile as you pretended you couldn’t hear them.
“Come with me.” Remus finally offered, motioning towards the wall of Chocolate Frogs with his head as he took your hand. “We’ll find them later.”
You and Remus walked through the aisles as he told you stories of Sirius, James, and Peter trying each and every one of the sweets (even the silly ones). Apparently, they learned Peter was allergic to earthworms due to an unfortunate selection of Berties Botts Every-Flavour Beans.
“How was that the thing that tipped him off? Did he never try picking one up as a kid?” You asked through a laugh.
“Right? What kid doesn’t spend time making mud pies and catching earthworms? We figured just for that, the sod almost deserved to go anaphylactic.” Remus joked with no real malice. 
You approached a stand of sample chocolates that caught Remus’ eye.
“Hm, nutmeg Cauldron Cakes; that looks good.” You commented as you considered the pastries.
Remus’ mouth tipped up in a mischievous smile as he quickly picked up one of the small samples and held it in front of you.
“Open.” 
You stared at him dumbly. “I…I’m sorry?”
His smirk only grew as he kept his eyes on your lips. “Open.” He instructed again.
Not willing to stand here with a pastry held in front of your face asking stupid questions any longer, you acquiesced and allowed Remus to feed you the pastry. 
He moved, likely slower than necessary, and just as you went to close your mouth, he paused his movements and slowly slid his thumb between your lips, pulling your bottom lip down as he went.
You didn’t realise you’d been standing there in shock until he raised an expectant eyebrow at you, prompting you to chew the treat now sitting idly on your tongue. 
“Good girl.” 
Merlin’s fucking tits, he was going to make you choke.
Apparently you weren't the only one, if the sound of James’ strangled groan echoing from where he, Sirius, and Lily had been standing and staring at the two of you.
James looked like he couldn’t tell which of you he was most jealous of, Sirius stood staring with his eyebrows up near his hair line and his mouth wide open, and Lily watched with a knowing smirk adorning her face. 
“Was it good?” James whispered over to you.
You nodded dumbly, looking up at Remus as if you were somehow asking for his agreement.
“Better let me confirm.” He murmured as he leaned down; one hand cradling the back of your head and the other tilting your chin up to meet his lips, though he stopped just before they connected. 
You could feel the gentle puffs of Remus' breath hitting your lips from where your eyes were glued to his mouth. When it became obvious you were at a stalemate, your eyes flitted up to meet him.
His eyes were on yours as they danced with a mixture of mischief and questions.
Questions.
...“Is it okay if she kisses you, pretty girl?”...
And you weren’t a Gryffindor; you weren’t brave or bold, nor were you daring. But dammit, you were a Hufflepuff; you had a propensity for hard work, and you could do hard things!
So, you let your eyes fall back to Remus’ lips before you closed the distance between you two.
You felt him smile into the kiss before he deepened it, finally pulling away with a pleased hum though he kept his hands on either side of your face. 
“She wasn’t lying, Prongs; it was good.” He called over, gaze never leaving your face.
You heard what you could only imagine was Sirius’ boot stomping petulantly from his place as Lily barked a laugh at him. “I was this close to being the second one to kiss her!”
You dropped your head into Remus’ chest only for him to chuckle as he wrapped his arms around you.
“Better luck next time, Pads.” He taunted.
You officially knew your suspicions were correct: the Gryffindor’s really were trying to kill you.
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writingsbychlo · 4 months
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IS IT NEW YEARS YET? | lorenzo berkshire
summary; you're not a huge fan of new years, since when was it all about couples, anyway? luckily, someone else is in the same boat.
word count; 6712
notes; this is completely unedited, it's bound to be riddled with mistakes. this is the second to last christmas fic, just my baby mattheo to go! I saved the best for last.
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Sitting at the table, you did your very best to hide the scowl sitting on your face. Pansy had left you only a moment ago to dance with Luna, Astoria had pulled Draco away onto the floor ages ago, and Blaise was off flirting up a storm with every girl possible. Regulus was sulking at the bar with his brother, while Mattheo and Theo had long since snuck away to smoke and hide from the party. 
That just left you. Sat alone at the table, trying not to get too drunk as you watched all the happy couples around you mingle. The Christmas period had always been so fun, but lately, it only seemed to be a holiday for couples. Which, really wasn’t fair, in your opinion. They already had Valentine’s Day, why the fuck did they need this one, too?
However, everything seemed to be spinning around kissing at midnight, and dancing, and romance, and Luna’s bag full of grapes, for whatever that was about. You’d tuned out when she’d begun explaining. 
Glancing around the room in search of the only remaining member of your party who was unaccompanied, perhaps a little reprieve from the loneliness, you spotted Enzo near his parent's table. He looked, in a single word, uncomfortable. Scratching at the back of his neck, he wore a scowl, and while you couldn't hear over the loud music and chatter what he was saying all that distance away, it was clear that he wasn’t happy. 
His mother glared at him, and his anger dimmed only a second, a flash of fear in his eyes, a bob of his throat, but he didn’t back down. Finishing off the last of your drink and standing, the sequins of your dress glitter under the lights, falling perfectly in the simple, floor-length dress you’d chosen for the evening. 
As you wove through the bodies, heels clicking on the floor, you started to be able to pick out the deep rumble of his voice throughout the other conversations. He didn’t have a great relationship with his parents. Certainly, not as bad as others in the group, but strained He rarely wrote them, he only ever went home at Christmas and Summer, and they never came to visit. In almost a decade of knowing Enzo, you’d perhaps spoken to them three times, and once, was merely your introduction. 
“I’m not going to date a girl I don’t know just because you think I ought to!”
Your brows furrowed, stilling momentarily as his words raced through your mind. Regulus’ parents had tried to set him up with someone recently too, only six months ago, they’d sent him letter after letter about the eligible girls from other noble families he could woo. You’d gone pale upon discovering your own name on the list, quite highly ranked, and Regulus had assured you that as much as he loved you dearly as a friend, he had absolutely no interest in pursuing you romantically. Nor, any of the girls on the list. 
However, you hadn't expected Enzo’s parents to leap on him so fast. Your mother had been making some subtle comments about relationships lately, but nothing nearly so bold, not since your break-up. Enzo dragged a hand through his hair as he groaned, this conversation obviously wasn’t going in his favour, and you pitied him. 
In a generous mood, you finished your walk, closing in by his side and putting on the charming smile that you knew could win over any adult or peer, with a few simple words and a bat of your lashes. Anyone, except, perhaps Enzo’s mother. Her eyes narrowed on you as you placed a hand on Enzo’s lower back, standing respectably by his side, by far closer than could be considered friendly, as you smiled up at him. 
“Enzo, sweetie, Draco is looking for you.”
“Wh— What?” His brows pulled together, obviously confused, and you slipped your arm around his waist, settling in by his side. 
“Lorenzo, who’s your friend?” His mother’s cold tone sliced through the space between you as his gaze scanned over your features. 
“Hi, Mrs Berkshire.” You held your hand out offering your name, and she only hummed, shaking it loosely before returning her hand to her side, elegantly. “I’m Enzo’s… well, we haven’t quite figured out terms yet, have we? I’m his date tonight… at least, I hope?”
He did well to hide his flicker of surprise, before finally seeming to understand the aim of the game, his arm snaking around your body like a boyfriend might do, and curling you further into his side. “Of course you are, darling.”
“Well, that’s good to know.” Your giggle was far more high-pitched and sweet than usual, but the tension bled from his mother’s shoulders just a fraction, as she analysed the pair of you. For emphasis, Enzo leaned in to press a polite kiss to your temple, and you stretched your smile wider, like a happy girlfriend would. “I’m so sorry to have interrupted, I promised Draco I’d find you, and you left me all alone at the table. I was starting to miss you, but now I see you were doing something important. I thought perhaps you’d snuck away with the boys.”
The piercing gaze of his mother drilled into you, but you didn’t falter, or show any weakness. In your social circles, one cowering sign was just an opening for snapping teeth at throats, and you wouldn't give anyone such an opportunity. 
“Why would you now simply tell us that you had a date, Lorenzo?” His mother eventually questioned, finally dragging her stare away from you and back to her son, and you felt like you could breathe again at last.
“Well, as you heard my girl say,” He murmured, stumbling only slightly over the words, and recovering them smoothly with a cough. “We haven’t settled on any kinds of labels yet. I didn’t want to be presumptuous, or too forward.”
“And how long have you been seeing one another?” She wasted no time, raising a brow. 
“Just two months.” You smiled, and she flickered her sights to you for only a moment. “You raised a real gentleman, Mrs Berkshire. He’s been so patient and sweet, it can be so hard to find times between classes to see one another and spend time together. We’ve been taking it slow. I apologise if I come as a surprise to you tonight, that’s my fault. I asked Enzo not to write to you, because I haven’t told my own parents yet, you see.”
Leaning in to whisper your joke, as if you were passing secret information;
“My father can be a little over-protective, I wanted to spare Enzo, so I knew my father wouldn't scare him away.”
At that finally, a smirk broke on her lips. She made a vague sound of agreement, and you could feel your friend relax a little where your hand was rubbing his side, gently. “Well, I suppose I can understand that. Lorenzo, you may leave for now. But I do not expect to be kept in the dark on such matters again.”
Waggling a finger at him, he only nodded, eyes wide. “Of course, Mother. It won’t happen again.” 
Leaning in to kiss her cheek, he gave a hurried goodbye, before steering you away with his arm still around you, and guiding you back toward the other side of the room. When you were far enough away he knew his parents wouldn't hear them, he let out a shaky laugh, and turned to look down at you. 
“I don’t know if you’re brave, stupid, or both. Taking on my mother like that? Impressive, and also insane.”
“You have a funny way of saying ‘thank you’, Berkshire.” You tutted, and he only grinned. Dipping down, he kissed your cheek now, coming to a stop beside your table. 
“Thank you, for saving me back there.”
“Well, you seemed like you needed a save.” You shrugged, his arm still looped around your waist, hand on your lower back, rubbing lightly as he looked around the room. 
“You don’t have an actual date, right?” Leaning in, his breath brushed your ear, and you shuddered at the feel, “Because there’s a guy over there glaring at me like I kicked his dog.” 
His fingers touched your cheek, guiding your gaze to casually follow where he had been looking. As your eyes fixed on the man on the other side of the dance floor, you hardly concealed a scoff. He wasn’t glaring, so much as staring with curiosity now that you were the one looking. He smoothed a hand up his girlfriend’s leg as she sat beside him engaged in another conversation, not noticing where his attention now lingered. 
Turning your gaze away with a heavy sigh, your motions caused you to curl a little further into Enzo, who leant back enough to look down at you. “Is that the dickhead-ex that broke up with you in a letter a few months ago?” He whispered, and you could only nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat. 
Over him, you might be, but that didn’t make it sting any less. You’d suspected for a while he might be cheating, based on how soon he’d moved on, how ingratiated into his social circles she seemed, but this was the first time you’d ever seen her. 
She was pretty.
“That would be the one.” You replied, and Enzo only hummed, freeing his other hand from his pocket to tip your face up, an act that was far more intimate than any touch the two of you had ever shared. His thumb smoothed over your cheek, flicking a gaze back to the other side of the room and smirking slightly. “I don’t need to make him jealous, Enz. As much as I appreciate the sentiments, this is unnecessary. 
It wasn't needed, but you couldn't deny it felt good. Felt good to be held again, to settle your hands on someone’s chest, to feel his steady heartbeat under your palm as he touched you so tenderly. “I know, but isn’t it nice? To make him see what he let go, to show him how you should’ve been treated. We’re stuck together all night anyway, might as well make it count for you too.”
“Why is it that we’re stuck together?” You murmured, scowling a little at his choice of words, even more so when he only chuckled. You both knew he didn’t mean it like that, but it felt better to channel a little bitterness than let in the hurt. 
“My parents now believe we’re a couple. Your heroic act of saving me now has consequences.” He clicked his tongue, his hand smoothing down to your neck, thumb under your chin to force you to look up at him. 
“I figured you’d sneak away to see the other boys once I got you out.”
“And abandon my doting girlfriend who comes to my rescue?” He gasped dramatically, shaking his head, and a small laugh fell from your lips. “I would never. So, what do you say? I’m in your debt, let me be your real date for the night. I promise I’m a fun date.”
“You don’t have to beg, Lorenzo. I’ll let you be my date.”
“Oh, you haven’t seen me beg yet.” He smirked, a wicked look glinting in his eye, before he stepped back from you. Slipping the hand from your waist to slip into your own, he grasped tightly. “How about we go and get a drink?”
“I have a drink.”
“A real drink. I hate champagne, and I know you do too.” He cringed at the sight of your half-drunk glass, and didn’t wait for an answer, beginning to lead you both through the party and towards the bar. 
Settling in together, he pulled out a stool for you, tapping at the surface of it for you to sit on. When you shifted towards it, his hands settled on your waist, boosting you up to sit on it, and winking at the surprised sound that slipped free. 
He flagged down the bartender with a quick wave, before stepping in closer to your side, his hand finding a home on your lower back once again. Your spine was stiff, and you tried to convince yourself to relax, mumbling your drink order to the waitress as she passed by and took them both. 
Leaning back into his touch, he responded in kind, hand rubbing up and down your back softly, and turning to face you. Twisting your body on the stool, your knee bumped into his thigh, and your hand dropped to sit over the top of his on the bar before you. 
“So, didn’t expect your parents to be pushing your impending marriage so hard.” You murmured, tracing a finger over the prominent veins and marks in his hand, along each finger, all the way to the tips until they twitched, before returning to the back of his hand. On one finger sat a prominent family ring, the Slytherin ring on his thumb, and a couple of varied bands stacked amongst the others. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel like I’m far too young to be considering marriage. I haven’t seen the world yet, I’ve never been in love. Not— Not that soul-shredding, intense kind of love. I want to experience that at least once. I want to pick my own wife.” He shook his head, casting you a downtrodden look, a pout on his lips. “Doesn’t seem like that’ll be in the playing cards for me.”
“You could always leave. After we graduate, we get to leave. Maybe you should just… run.”
He only raised a brow at you, shaking his head slightly. It was a stupid suggestion, really. There wasn’t a place he could go that he wouldn't be followed by the reputation of his family, of his magical status. Unless he were to give it all up, disappear as a muggle, and spend the rest of his life feeling like he’d chopped off a limb, or had a vital organ removed. 
“Sorry. Dumb thing to say.”
“No, it was sweet. You were just trying to be comforting.” He whispered, and the drinks were placed down before you both. Pushing your drink to you with two fingers, you tapped them together gently, glass clinking, before taking a sip of your cocktail. “I might milk this little situation you’ve gotten us into for a while, though. Let my parents believe I’m courting you back at Hogwarts, and when we call it quits, I’ll be heartbroken. I’ll tell them I need time to get over you.”
Shaking your head with a small laugh, the sound brought a smile to his face.
“I’ll milk that one too. I reckon I can buy myself… at least a year, all in all.”
“Only a year, is that all my fictional love is worth?” You raised a hand to your chest, and he stepped even closer, playing into the act as his arm tightened around your waist. 
“You’re right. You're the one. When you leave me, I’ll be devastated. I’ll never get over it. You’ll be my one that got away.” He gave a heavy sigh, a groan at the end of it, slumping slightly into the bar and only increasing his dramatics as you giggled. “Don’t leave me, I’ll be better! I’ll buy you more flowers, I’ll stop sleeping with my secretary!”
You were gathering odd looks at his declaration, an older couple behind you tittering disapprovingly but you didn’t care. Not as he straightened back up, standing closer to you still, and smiling at you so widely. Your cheeks flushed as he took in your features, and you sipped at the cold alcohol in your glass, fingers raising to your cheeks to hide the blush.
“Truly, though. Thank you. That was sweet of you, you didn’t have to step in for me.”
“I know, but you’re my friend. One of my best friends. I know you’d help me out in a pinch, too.” Your hand fell back to his, toying with the house ring on his thumb, and he twisted his hand to give you better access. Such a small gesture, but you appreciated it nonetheless, as he fed into your anxious habits with no extra thought, your chest flooding with warmth and gratitude for him.
“I would, but, my parents are more than just a pinch. You were brave, my mum likes to pride herself on being intimidating.”
“She doesn’t have to like me, but I knew she wouldn't hurt me.” He raised his brows, silently questioning, and you looked at his hand. Unfolding his loose fist, you laced your fingers through his. “You were there with me. I knew she wouldn't hurt me.”
His hand tightened around yours, and his throat bobbed slightly. Lifting your raised hands, he kissed your knuckles softly. Instead of finding words to respond, he used gestures, his eyes fixed on yours as everything that needed to be said shone in them. He wasn’t his parents you saw him for that and trusted him. This was real, it wasn’t just for show, and when he moved his lips from your skin, you cupped his cheek with your other hand. 
“I know you’re good, Enzo.” You whispered, a fragile tone for just him to hear over the music, and his smile wobbled from flirty to heartfelt. “You’ve been my friend for so long now, I feel pretty confident in saying I know who you are.”
“Thank you.” His words came on a rushed sigh, and you swiped your thumb across his cheekbone one final time, before pulling away to clasp your drink and take a sip. He kept a tight grip on your other hand, though, clasping it to his chest momentarily, before resting your joined hands back on the bar. “So, what have I got to do to get you to dance with me out there?”
“Oh, no. I don’t dance at these things.” You shook your head quickly, and his grin only stretched at that prospect. At the look on his face, you waved a finger at him. “I have never danced at one of these things before. You aren’t the first guy to ask. I. Don’t. Dance.”
“I say you can.” He snickered, humming a fragment of the song as your eyes rolled. Leaning in a little closer to him, his wicked, flirty smile was back. Your nose brushed his.
“Not a chance.”
He seemed to accept the challenge, finishing off the whiskey that was in his glass. He wasn’t giving up, and you knew for certain that once Enzo set his mind to something, he achieved it. He waved to the bartender again, ignoring her flirty smile as he placed his order with two fingers raised, “Can I get two shots of tequila, please?”
“Make it four.” You muttered, and his eyes sparkled as he corrected himself. Finishing off your own drink, you pushed the empty glass toward his own, nothing but an overly saturated berry left in the bottom. “How’d you know tequila is my go-to for shots?”
“Because, my darling, I am observant. In fourth year, you legitimately gagged when we gave you Sambuca to try and you refuse to touch it even to this day, you say vodka tastes like nail polish, and you never drink whiskey or rum. And, only a psychopath would shoot gin.” His nose scrunched up, and four shot glasses were soon placed down before you, each one being filled up, a few droplets escaping to the bar. A dish of salt and limes followed, and you awed silently over it as he wiggled his brows. 
“Fancy, we get the fruit, too.”
“Always impressive these days, every family trying to one-up each other with parties.” He handed you your first shot, clinking your glasses together and spilling some of the sticky amber liquid onto your fingertips. Sprinkling salt on your hand, he winked, “Cheers.”
Licking the salt from his own fingertips, you copied, licking the substance from the back of your hand. Quickly, you did your first shot, then the next, and before you could even reach for one, Enzo was pushing a slice of lime between your lips. He’d surely smudged your lipstick, and juice was now running down your chin, but he caught it with a quick swipe of his thumb, grinning around the citrus in his mouth as he sucked it dry, and winced. 
Pulling the lime out from between your teeth, laughter soon spilt over in its place, and you left the half-drained slice in one of the empty glasses. Licking the tips of your fingers for the remaining tequila, Enzo watched, eyes a little foggy, as you cleaned up. “You shouldn’t do that.”
“Why?” You muttered, and he leaned in again, invading your space as the woodsy smell of his cologne overpowered you, making you want to press your face into his neck. Instead, you held his gaze, with bated breath.
“Because it’s hot. And I’m only so strong.”
“Are you flirting with me, Enz?” You smirked, watching as he offered you his hand. Taking it, you hopped down from the bar stool, waiting for the effects of the shots to kick in, ready to welcome the numbing buzz they’d carry. 
“Most definitely. You like it?”
“I do, actually.”
Linking your arm through his own as he led you slowly to the dance floor, he patted your hand on his bicep. “You could try to sound less shocked by that. I’m great at flirting.”
“Oh, I know. I’ve seen you put it into use before. That pretty smile, a few sweet words and a wink, you normally have women falling at your feet.”
As you reached the edge of the floor, he turned to face you, settling a hand on your hip, and tugging you in closer than needed. “But not you? Because you’re different to other girls.”
“Oh, no. I’m just like other girls. And it would work on me too, if I didn’t know you so well. Unfortunately, I’ve watched you throw up in your own shoe and eat food off the floor. You’ll have to work a little harder to get me.” Pinching your fingers between your faces to show a gap, he watched, before taking that hand and placing it on his shoulder, smoothly. 
“I love a good challenge.”
With that, he was sweeping you across the floor, your shocked laughter breaking free as he spun you suddenly into the madness of the dance floor. Perfected routines and perfect dances, and even in your addled mind, the steps began to come back to you. You’d always thought that there was something so eerie about the dances, the melancholic music that played, always building to a crashing crescendo. 
It felt like music with a tragic tale, spinning and dipping and dancing, like a Shakespeare play given music instead of words. Rows of perfectly organised dancers, all moving in perfect sync and harmony. 
Luckily, tonight, that structure seemed to have fallen apart a little. Various levels of dancing skills were taking place. Some were just swaying, others were performing flips and spins that made you dizzy, as you and Enzo settled somewhere in the middle. His hand tight on your waist, the other clasping your own, he spun you between people, guiding you towards the centre of the floor. 
“I thought you said you didn’t dance!”
“I don’t, that doesn’t mean I can’t. My mother had me in lessons three times a week as a child. I am an excellent dancer.” Glancing around, it was mercifully informal tonight, not the regimented performances it sometimes could be. “This whole… thing. It just creeps me out sometimes.”
“When they all dance in perfect, synchronised lines, like some kind of terrifying ballet performance?” He muttered, smiling and nodding as you wove past an older couple. 
“Yes!”
“I get you,” He hummed, shuddering a little. Ahead of you both, Draco was spinning a smiling Astoria, and he looked utterly exhausted by this point. She didn’t seem ready to stop dancing any time soon, though.
As he spun you back in, your arm wrapped around his neck this time, holding yourself closer to him and calming the crazy dance he’d drawn you into. He was smiling himself, cheeks flushed from the exertion, and as you began to move into a slower sway, his cheek came to rest against the top of your head. 
“You ever dance at one of these parties with your ex?”
“I told you, I don’t dance.” You mumble, the arm around his neck sliding, hand slipping to brush lightly at the hair on the base of his neck. He stretched his head a little further, leaning into the touch with a soft sigh. 
“You didn’t dance,” He corrected cheekily, pinching at your hip, and your eyes rolled upwards at his pedantic behaviour. “Your ex is watching us.”
“I told you, I don’t care.”
He made a vague noise before turning you subtly, so that you could see him now. The displeased look on his face, the narrowed eyes as he watched you and Enzo, and the way he turned in a flustered rush once he realised you’d caught him. “You may not care, but I’m getting a sick sort of satisfaction from it. I had to watch you hurt over him, even when you tried to pretend you weren’t. The way your face fell that day in the hall when you opened that letter, I’ll never forget it.”
“Enz…” Your whisper is barely audible, his own words mumbled by your ear so low they were barely decipherable. Goosebumps still rose along your skin at the snarl he made, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he shook his head. 
Dipping down, he pressed a kiss to your cheek, so tender and loving that you felt your heart skip in your chest. “He’s a dick, and I wish I could do a lot more to him than just pork a few holes in his ego tonight. He deserves a right kicking.”
“I was over him long before that letter came. The distance had been growing.”
“Maybe so, but he’s still a prick.” Turning you around and around in slow circles, you gained and lost sight repeatedly each scene just a little different from the last. He was putting on a show, that was for sure, as Enzo took you for turns around the dance floor. One moment he had his new girlfriend in a passionate kiss, the next she was laughing as she stared up at him, the next, whispering sweet words in her ear. 
If you could see it, you were sure Enzo could too, his grip tightening on you protectively. Leaning up, you returned the affection, pulling his focus back to you as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Let’s go get another drink, yeah? I could use some hydration after all this dancing.”
He looked right through you, like he knew it was a distraction, and yet he nodded anyway, jaw clenched. This time, you took one of his hands in both of yours, leading him through the crowd as his fingers clutched your own. 
Settling at the bar, you called for two waters, before turning your gaze back to him. 
“Wish I could just push them both in the fireplace, and watch them burn.” 
His words made your eyes widen slightly, and you pressed a glass into his hand the moment they arrived, encouraging him to drink. “Enzo, why are you so bothered about this all of a sudden?”
“Because— Because I can see him now! And he’s a jackass, and I’m already mad enough about my parents, and the fact it’s this stupid day. I need something to channel my anger into, and he’s a mighty good conduit.” He took another swig of his drink, jaw clenching as he slammed the empty glass down and licked his lips. 
Placing a finger on his chin, you twisted his head to you, and he softened slightly as he looked. “Not a fan of New Year's, huh?”
“Not a fan of the holidays in general. Especially once I have to go home.” Your heart clenched for him. The expression on your face must’ve given you away, because he soon shrugged. “I used to love the holiday period, but nowadays, all my parents do is get at me. Plus, being single at Christmas sucks, y’know? Since when was this time all about love? I thought it was supposed to be about generosity and love and whatever. Now it’s all about couples.”
Your jaw dropped a little, and his brows furrowed. 
“What?”
Enzo had just echoed the exact sentiments you’d been thinking about only a couple of hours ago, and a breathless laugh escaped you as you shook your head. At least he understood you. “Nothing. Just, I was thinking the same thing, earlier.”
“Great minds.” He whispered, shaking a little tension out of his body and closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, the fire was dulled, sweet sparkle back, and he loosed a heavy breath. “Sorry. That got heavy.”
“I’m always here for you to talk, Enz.”
He smiled, eyes closing again as he rested his forehead on yours, tugging you in with arms around your waist for a hug. His face moved, chin hooking over your shoulder, with a kiss pressed there as he did, which sent your pulse skyrocketing at the feel of his lips on your skin. “I love you, you know that, right? You’re one of the most important people in my life.”
“Love you too, Enzo…” You murmured, running your fingers through his hair. He pulled away, a shy smile on his face, and he nudged your glass to you this time. 
“Drink up. I want to get you back out on that dance floor. I take pride in knowing I’m the only man you’ll dance with.”
“Because you’re the most insistent man I’ve ever met. I know that if I said no, you’d only spend the whole night bugging me.”
“It’s charming how well you know me.” He teased, and your eyes rolled, resulting in a soft slap to the outside of your thigh as he tutted at you, mumbling about your attitude. “Oh, incoming.”
“Who—” You barely got the word out before an arm was slung over your shoulder, a heavy weight following as they leaned on you. Mattheo beamed at you lazily when you turned your head to see. Theo soon followed, shuffling his feet a little, and rubbing at his eyes. The second he saw the half-drunk glass of water in your hands, he lunged for it, managing to get the whole thing down in one go, without evening coming up for breath. “Jeez, how baked are you two?”
“Theo brought some good shit this time,” Mattheo murmured, kissing his fingers and waving them to the air, and Theo gave a delayed scoff after a couple of seconds. 
“I always bring good shit.”
“Agree to disagree.” Mattheo smiled, bopping his friend on the nose, as Enzo only laughed. 
“So, that’s where you two have been, huh? Outside smoking all night.”
“Not all night,” Theo smirked, waggling his brows as he produced his phone from his back pocket. “I spent a good deal of time flirting. I got six girls’ numbers, and Matt here only got four.”
He set off snickering as Mattheo only grumbled, and the moment he loosened his hold on you, you slipped free so he could lean against the bar instead. You didn’t get far, not before Enzo was snaking an arm around you, and tugging you into his chest. Theo might have been higher than a kite, but he didn’t miss the way Enzo’s touches trailed over your back, settling low on your spine. He smirked, eyes glinting when Enzo dropped an absentminded kiss to the top of your head. 
“So, what’s new with you two?”
“We’re dating now.” Enzo beamed, and Mattheo spluttered over his drinks order, the bartender wandering way as Mattheo turned to face you, and Theo’s jaw dropped. “Or, at least, that’s what we’re letting my parents believe, so they’ll hop off my dick about marrying some stranger.” 
You pat his chest for his use of words, and he shrugged. Finally, Draco seemed to have persuaded Astoria to let him go. She was now happily dancing with her sister, as Draco stumbled over to your group at the bar, and collapsed down onto a free stool. 
“That girl has more energy than a toddler on crack.”
“Interesting metaphor.” You said, and Draco only patted his chest, sticking an extra glass of water and a whiskey onto Mattheo’s order as he tried to get a drink once again. Turning his gaze back to you, those grey eyes slid from head to toe, a pale brow raising. 
“What’s with you two?”
“Haven’t you heard, Dray?” Theo mused, “They’re dating.”
He had a similar reaction to the other two, equally as entertaining until the news was broken, and you hid your laughter in Enzo’s shoulder. He was smiling, hiding his own amusement in your hair, his fingers playing with the tips as the strands spilt down your back. 
The night went on much the same, hours blurring by as more friends came and went, joining you in the group, before being pulled away. For a while, you sat on the stool beside Enzo, listening to Mattheo retell the story of their competition to get numbers. 
You let Enzo pull you onto the dance floor again, and even Mattheo, who swung you off-beat and out of sync to a song in his head, certainly not the one being played, but it made you laugh until your stomach hurt, so it was worth it. You danced with the girls too, and exchanged gossip in hushed whispers as you moved across the checkered floor. 
It always ended with you stumbling back to Enzo, progressively building more of a buzz as the night went on, falling back into the security of his arms. And he was always there, smiling, tucking hair behind your ear and kissing your forehead as he asked you whether you were having fun. For the first time in a long time at one of these events, you could say yes. 
Only as the hour was finally approaching midnight, less than fifteen minutes to go, did you all leave. Mattheo ordered several bottles of champagne, gathering two in his hands and passing two more to Theo. Then, he was commanding you all to follow him, and marching away without another word.
You shared a look with Enzo, before hopping down, following after him with an equally puzzled group. Your hand found Enzo’s quickly, a comfortable act that had become familiar far too quickly, but just for tonight, you didn’t care. Not as Mattheo led you down all and corridors, away from all the noise. 
Not as he led you all up, until you were exiting onto the roof. Below you, chatter filled the courtyard as the party guests began to file out onto the patio, ready to witness the fireworks. The view would be uninterrupted from here, a perfect view of it all, and a contented sound left your lips. 
Staring up at the night sky, stars twinkled in the cold void, and you rubbed one arm lightly as you stared into the vast openness. Only a second later, a jacket was slipping over your shoulders, and Enzo was turning you to him, guiding your arms through each of the sleeves, bashfully. 
“Told you I was a good date.” He winked, hand on your back as you followed the rest of your friends to sit down. 
“You said you were a fun date,”
“Well then, I’m a good and fun date.” He effectively ended the conversation with a kiss to your cheek, hand sliding dangerously low on your back as you gathered with the others. A couple of benches and boxes were up here, stacks of pallets for makeshift seating, and you settled onto one, Enzo following you down. 
Once you were sat, he pulled you in, tucking you into the heat of his side, and you curled in closer, twisting to face him. “Tonight has been… wonderful. Thank you.”
“Are you kidding? Thank you.” He whispered, nose brushing your hairline as the words were whispered onto your skin. “Tonight has been one of the best nights I’ve ever had, and I never thought I’d say that about one of these parties.”
You fiddled with the edge of the sleeves hanging over your palms, grinning at him. Your head fell to his shoulder, and your gaze moved to scan over your friends. Draco and Astoria were cuddling equally as sweetly, as were Blaise and Daphne. Luna and Pansy were nowhere to be seen, but Tom and Reggie stood at the edge of the roof, talking quietly. Mattheo and Theo were bent over laughing, trying to pop the corks on the bottles, and almost taking out each other’s eyes each time. 
When a bottle was passed to you and Enzo, fizzing over the top and foaming on the wooden palette you perched on, you took a sip. The bitter liquid fizzed on your tongue just as the countdown began to sound from all of the people below. 
“Ten, nine, eight…” Mattheo screamed, arms held up in the air with his excitement. 
“Seven, six, five…” You murmured, sitting up straighter as the anticipation of the new year came in. 
“Four, three, two…” Enzo joined you, your face turning to smile at him as you heard his voice mix with yours. 
“One.” You spoke, just as Enzo leaned in. His lips closed over your own, warm and spicy from the lingering remnants of firewhiskey, and you groaned against his mouth. As you did, his hand slipped up to your cheek, angling your head just right as his tongue slid into your mouth.
He kissed slow, and deep, like he had all the time in the world to be here. You were gripping his shoulder, kissing back with just as much passion, sliding closer to him until there was no space between your body and his. Your thigh pressed to his own, his hand on your cheek slipping into your hair as he pulled back for a breath, just to dive right back in. 
And you loved it, leaning forward, chasing his lips, kissing him until you couldn’t think straight, couldn't think at all, unless it was about him. 
Finally, he pulled back, to the cheering and celebrating of your friends as the New Year rolled in. Fireworks began to explode behind you, and you sighed, breath clouding in the night air and floating up to the sky. Licking the taste of him from your lip as you panted, his nose bumped your own.
“What was that for?” You mumbled, the way he kissed you still playing over and over again in your mind like a loop. 
“Because when we go back,” He stole another kiss, your lips stretching in a smile as his palm engulfed your cheek. “I’d love to take you on a real date.”
You’d never looked at him like this before, never let yourself consider what it would be like to date Enzo. That urge had never arisen, everything between you both had always been platonic, he was one of your best friends. Now, as those pretty eyes opened up to stare at you, he was anything but platonic. 
He was pretty, in a way you’d acknowledged but never appreciated before. Loyal in a best friend way, but would doubtless be a wonderful boyfriend. He was doting, and kind, and sweet. He was cheeky and funny and caring. He was here, and interested, and if tonight had proven anything, it was your compatibility. 
You and Enzo worked well together, you made a great couple, and for the first time ever, he was staring at you in a way that made you think he wanted to take your clothes off. And you liked it. 
The choice seemed clear. 
“I’d like that too, Enzo.”
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daisynik7 · 4 months
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cw: established relationship, smut - car sex (cowgirl), cunnilingus, creampie, spit used as lube
Author's Note: Been a minute since I wrote a smutty Nanami drabble and I thought of this today while in heat LOL. Enjoy! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune.
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Thinking about you and Nanami sneaking off during your company holiday party to fuck each other silly in the car. 
He’s your plus one tonight, dressed to the nines in his signature suit and tie, looking as dashing as ever. You’re in the new dress he bought you, the perfect fit, matching subtlety with him. He hasn’t been able to take his hands off you, one always draped over your shoulders, behind your back, or around your waist. He squeezes you gently whenever one of your wacky coworkers says something inappropriate or unhinged, even firmer if it’s your boss saying it. When you’re both sat at the table, waiting for dinner to be served, he places his hand on your knee, holding you because he just can’t stop touching you, especially in this dress. 
Dinner and two glasses of wine in, you warn him that it’s almost time for the speeches, which are notoriously long and boring. Feeling frisky, he stands up, pulling you with him, briefly explaining to the others at your table that you have to excuse yourselves for whatever reason. They don’t bat an eye, too immersed in their own drinking and merriment to even care where you two run off to. 
Nanami opens the car door for you, like a true gentlemen, beckoning you into the backseat. And unlike a gentleman, he slaps your ass on the way in, chuckling to himself as you playfully yell at him. He follows, locking the car from the inside, already shedding his blazer off. You do the same with your dress, but he stops you, a wild look in his eyes. “Keep this on. I want to fuck you in it.”
You fold the fabric up your thighs until it’s bunched around your waist, allowing you to spread your legs wide enough to display your cunt to him. Of course you aren’t wearing underwear. In fact, he told you not to, intending to do this to you from the very start. If there’s anything you’ve learned about your husband in the last year or two, it’s that he’s recently developed a kink for spontaneous car sex. Not that you’re complaining. 
He dives in, spreading his tongue and smearing his spit all over your aching clit. He’s quick and vicious with it, desperate for your orgasm so he can feel it all around him when he eventually slides his cock inside you. It doesn’t take long for you to give it to him, and once you do, he hoists you onto his lap, kissing you sloppily with his cum-coated lips. You straddle him, grinding against him, your wetness leaking onto his slacks. He pulls out his cock, throbbing in his fist, staring at you with a hazy expression. “Spit on it.” 
You give him a smile and a smooch before dribbling a thick wad of your saliva straight onto his shaft. He shudders, coating his entire length with it, stroking it fast in his grip. He circles the wetted tip around your swollen clit before sliding inside you, letting out a guttural moan as soon as he bottoms out. “Fuck,” he grunts, pressing a delicate kiss to your forehead, cupping your cheek softly in the palm of his hand. 
You nuzzle into his touch, rocking yourself back and forth on him. “Fuck me, Kento. And don’t hold back.”
And he doesn’t, fucking you hard and rough, making you temporarily forget about that silly holiday party still happening inside. They have no clue that you’re getting fucked stupid in the backseat of your car by your husband. That he’s tearing this pussy up with every brutal thrusts he pounds into you, his thumb massaging deep into your core, greedy for your orgasms. 
Neither of you care what a mess you’re making, his hair matted on his sweaty forehead, your dress wrinkled and ruined, his slacks splotched with damp spots from your slick leaking out. It gets even messier when he comes inside you, unable to stop some of his creamy load from seeping into the fabric of his pants.  
Without much of an effort, the two of your pull yourselves together enough to head back to the party. Nanami wraps his jacket around his waist, looking ridiculous, and you ignore the curious stares of your coworkers as they eye the suspicious winkles on your dress. 
It doesn’t matter anyways; you only return in time to collect your bonus. Once it’s in your hands, you thank your boss and excuse yourselves for the rest of the night, ready for round two, three, and four in the comfort of your own home. 
1K notes · View notes
secretsandwriting · 18 days
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heyyyy ryyyyy <333
since ur requests are open i thought id go ahead and ask if you're mayhaps open to anything for batmom? i don't have a completely solid idea but maybe smn like batmom has been getting threats or maybe hate or smn from somebody and everyone's reactions and how they get hella protective?
obv no pressure and you definitely do not have to write this
hope you have a great day bb
Heyyyyy, so this grew hands and wrote itself, I hope you enjoy it. It did end up with a lot of backstory.
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You knew this would happen. Once your relationship with Bruce got out there would be an influx of love and hate. You also knew that everyone else knew that as well. It was common knowledge than anyone around a celebrity of sorts would experience that. 
Of course you did the normal things, turned off most notifications and only looked through areas online you knew would mostly be safe. You blocked tags and and only followed people you knew or ones who didn’t post about drama. 
When you did stumble onto hate, you moved on. If someone kept sending you nasty messages you blocked them, when they made other accounts to keep sending the same things, you changed your settings so only those you followed could message you. 
It wasn’t something you wanted to deal with but it was something you could handle. Something you started mentally preparing yourself for when Bruce’s attention on you lasted more than 4 dates, even more so when you caught yourself daydreaming about him.
You were not going to let random bitter people on the internet destroy your happiness like they did their own. Your family however, wanted to destroy what was left of your haters' happiness. Something you were trying to curb, but trying to tell a family of vigilantes who considered you the best mom in existence not to destroy your haters was like talking to a brick wall. Over the years, you had gotten used to it. It barely even registered anymore. But there had been a recent influx of the hate and while it didn’t bother you, it bothered the rest of your family. None of them could stand people talking bad about their mom.
While you hadn’t been there while the older ones were young, the second you had introduced yourself to them, you had taken a very important role in their lives. None of them realizing it at first. All of them had gotten used to the random women Bruce brought home that it took a little while for them to realize how important you were. 
Dick wasn’t sure at first. Thinking you were just another girlfriend that wouldn’t last long. So he didn’t really interact with you much. Ignoring your existence when it wasn’t too rude, or at least obviously rude. Until one night when he was staying at the manor and had a nightmare about his parents death. 
Bruce had an open bed policy. As long as there was still room for him, his bed was open. A policy he had started when Dick had gotten old enough he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to go when he had a nightmare. Bruce had always reminded all his kids, that nightmares don’t go away just because you’re older and that needing comfort wasn’t something they would outgrow. 
The thing was, you were there. Girlfriends didn’t mind when children did it but they never liked it when his adult kids did it. The shaking in his hands and the way he saw them fall in the darkness of every blink told him the only way he was getting any sleep was with someone. 
Hopefully he could just slip into Bruce’s side and leave before you woke up. That was the plan until he found Damian on Bruce’s side and you had been pulled closer to Bruce taking up what was left. You moved a little and Dick took that as his sign to deal with it himself until he heard you whisper his name. He hummed so you knew it was him and not some random stranger standing over Bruce’s side of the bed. 
“Nightmare?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on.” You lifted the blanket next to you, “Bruce told me you guys come here when you have nightmares. There's plenty of room over here for you.” Dick hesitated for a second before giving in. He needed sleep anyway. You weren’t when you said there was plenty of room, Dick had most of your half of the bed. Once he had settled on his side, facing away from you, he felt you pull the blanket over his shoulders. 
“Night Dick, sleep well.” For some reason, that was what did it. Once the tears started they didn’t stop. Silent sobs made him shudder and he felt one of your hands gently rubbing his back. “Oh Dick.” There was no pity in your tone and he found himself rolling over and curling into you. Your chin resting on his head while you rubbed his back. 
The next day, he followed you around like a puppy. Your side of the bed became his favorite when he had nightmares and it wasn’t long before he turned to you for general comfort over anything.
Jason met you at his grave. Neither of you exchanged words, but he caught something in your gaze he didn’t quite understand. He also wasn’t sure why you were at his grave either, he didn’t know you when he was younger. 
When he saw the Gotham News post about Bruce and Your 2nd anniversary, it brought more questions than answers. Why were you at his grave alone? Let alone longer than a few seconds. It was an odd way to gain more of Bruce’s affections. 
Every Tuesday you would be there, leaving flowers and talking softly to the stone. Every time you left, you would smile and nod, the look in your eyes he couldn’t figure out was still there. Every time he would strain to heat what you were saying and only be able yo a few words here and there. 
6 months into it, the routine changed. You brought a blanket and Basket with your usual flowers. You did what you normally did with the flowers but instead of talking to the stone you waved him over. When he didn’t move, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him. 
“Jason Todd, I have been keeping your secret for 6 months. Helping me spread this blanket and having lunch won’t change it.” He stared at you while you waited expectantly. Eventually when he could get himself to move, he came over and helped. He sat down where you motioned for him too, all while trying to figure out how you knew.
“Bruce mentioned this used to be your favorite when you were younger so I asked Alfred to teach me how to make it. I hope it's up to your standards.” He looked at the plate of food you handed him. It was almost overflowing with food, all of which reminded him of the good times back at the manor before he died. “Alfred also sent your favorite cookies when he heard I would be eating at your grave.” The bag of cookies was placed next to the basket, within easy reach.
“Why?” Was all Jason managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.
“I decided early on in life, no matter who I was with, I would love their family as my own. My grandfather hated my grandmothers side and it caused a lot of pain in all the generations. I decided I would never do that to another family.” Jason found himself back in control enough to start eating. 
“So when I started dating Bruce and he told me about you, I decided to treat you like you were my own. Even though I had never met you and you were dead. Most of what that meant was keeping your grave clean and always making sure there were fresh flowers. While I did that, I would tell you everything that was going on.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“Your eyes, they may be a different color but they looked too similar. So I did a little digging and found pictures of your biological pictures to place the face shape it matched. I think however you look more like Bruce then either of them.”
“Are you going to tell them?”
“As much as I would love to. It’s your choice. You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a reason. If I can help you get to a place to tell them, I would love to. But I won’t say a word until you're ready. However, I would like to keep having lunch with you.” 
A year later, Jason reintroduced himself to the rest of the family a lot calmer than originally planned and was glued to your side anytime he felt overwhelmed that night. Every Tuesday after that, lunch was scheduled.
Tim was nervous when it came to you. He was still living in the manor so he saw you more than the older two. You always seemed nice and respected his privacy but Bruce was always with you so you obviously would. 
It was when he wasn’t around that worried Tim. Bruce attracted golddiggers and they were always mean when Bruce wasn’t there. When you were given a copy of the key, Time braced himself. 
Of course he knew that if he told Bruce anything that happened like that, Bruce would break it off. He had always told them that they came first. But he also knew that Bruce liked you a lot. All the other ones Bruce liked a lot that turned out to be horrible, he broked it off. Tim had seen how it had made him upset and he really hated doing that to him. Maybe he could deal with it for once. 
So when Bruce left for a business trip, Tim was Expecting the worst. What he didn’t expect was for you to knock on his door and ask if you could join him. When he agreed and stepped back so you could come in. He expected you to go to his bed or his desk chair not, the oversized bean bag on the floor.
“I have a question for you but you can’t tell Bruce yet.” Here it comes. “What would a funny way to tell him I know he’s Batman?” Tim wasn’t expecting that one. “I was thinking a lot of batpuns but his paranoia is too bad for that.”
“How did you figure it out?” You walked him through your process and didn’t say anything as he wrote parts of it down. Once you finished explaining the process for Bruce, you explained any way it was modified in figuring out their identities.
“Who do you think I am?”
“Red Robin.” Tim found himself getting excited. 
“You know those notes you leave him in his office?” You nodded. “You should leave those in the Batcave.” You considered it but your thinking was interrupted but Tim shouting. 
“No! One night when we’re all in the cave, you could bring some snacks!” 
“You just want snacks when he’s lecturing you don’t you?”
“Maybe..”
“Alright, but you have to tell the others so they can tell me what snack they want.”
So Tim slowly and carefully went through all his siblings, letting them know you figured it out, Bruce didn’t know, and what the plan is. Every time he relayed a snack to you he’d watch how carefully you’d write it out to make sure you had it correct or look up recipes if you couldn’t find it in stores. 
Two weeks later, Tim was the one who sent the signal in the middle of a lecture everyone was receiving and he got a front row seat to see Bruce’s face when you walked in and handed out snacks before giving him a kiss and telling him to be nice and leaving. 
Any other worries were left in the dust when you helped him win the nerf war for the best seat in the home theater. He thoroughly enjoyed his spot next to you while Bruce swore revenge from the other side of the room.
Damian treated you politely but that was it. His mother was still alive and he didn’t want another one, one was more than enough. Not only that, but you were weird. 
One time when you were over, you found one of his report cards. Immediately you were praising him. He didn’t understand why, he had basically failed one of his classes with an A-. You should be disappointed like his mother would be, not hanging it up on the fridge and telling people not to touch it. Definitely not taking him out for ice cream and calling him so smart. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he walked past it, but he still was. 
When he was practicing his violin and Messed up, you were supposed to tell him to stop failing, that he should be better. Not smiling at him and telling him he’s making good progress. You should be telling him that he should have memorized that piece in a day. He shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he finally does memorize it, it took him 4 days to learn it.
When he was struggling to learn a language, you were supposed to tell him to work harder. He could do better, after all, he already knew so many. Instead you just smiled and recommended a break to refresh his mind. 
When he snapped at you in Arabic, he expected you to be upset since you didn’t know what he said and it was obviously not something nice. Instead you set the rule that if he was going to use Arabic to speak to you when upset, that he had to teach it to you and if what he said wasn’t something you had learned yet, he had to tell you in english. When he told you what it meant, you didn’t even get upset. He definitely shouldn’t be as excited as he was when you actually started learning. 
So many more little things piled up, leaving Damian confused. The differences between how you and his mother treated him was so big he didn’t know how to process it, he liked you and all the little things made him happy in a way he hadn’t really felt. But he still loved his mom, When he had enough of it, he asked you to stop. He still wanted to love his mom. Once again, you did something you weren’t supposed to.
“Oh Damian, I’m not trying to replace your mom nor am I trying to make you feel like you can’t love her or she doesn’t love you. Your mom and I show our love in different ways and its ok for you to love or like both of us. You mother loves you and she will always be allowed in your life if thats what you want.” You weren’t supposed to do that, but Damian was really glad you did.
Barbara wasn’t sure how you would react to her. She wasn’t just Bruce’s kid. She had a loving family she went back to every night. Most people weren’t really a fan of that, one of Bruce’s past girlfriends had some strong and hurtful things to say about it. 
When you took her for a day out, she found herself warming up to you but still waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of the new places you had planned to go, didn’t have wheelchair access. Like all the other girlfriends who had done this, she expected you to be annoyed that your plans had to change or you would just leave her outside while you shopped. 
You didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just looking at what was next on your list and starting the trip there. When Barbara stared a little longer at a new movie that was in theaters, tickets and snacks were bought and you listed to all the lore she told you about before it started.
While it had been a nice day, Barbara wasn’t convinced. One day was easy to fake. Sure she had lots of fun, but Barbara was used to fakes when it came to Bruce’s girlfriends. Of course she wasn’t complaining about you being nice, she just wasn’t sure how long it would last. 
“Did you hear about that boutique?” She looked up from her food to look at her dad. “That new one that you tried to go to with Bruce’s girlfriend? Well there was a report that it didn’t meet the Americans with Disabilities act and the boutique is in trouble. People are speculating they’ll have to close down.”
Later that night, Barbara looked into it. They were in trouble, pretty big trouble from the looks of it. Towards the end of the article she found the name of the person who reported it, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting. Not you for sure but the Name Y/n L/n took her by surprise and filled her chest with feelings she couldn’t describe. 
The boutique ended up closing but a new one opened. Once it was open, you were the first to ask her to go. That weird feeling came back when she wheeled herself up the ramp and through the door you held open for her. Later that night, in the privacy of her room. She decided she liked you. 
Steph seemed like she liked you, she acted like she liked you, she didn’t really like you. Sure you were nice, Bruce loved you, the others were warming up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about you. So she stuck with not actually liking you but pretending to. 
So when she was around you, it was all smiles and jokes. She wasn’t a big fan of it all but she did it because she knew you were important to Bruce and that was enough of a reason for her. She knew Bruce and the others could see through the act but as long as you couldn’t, that was enough. 
When Bruce announced he had to leave for a business trip right before she could hand him the parents visit for one of her AP classes, something the new teacher liked doing. She tucked the paper away. When Tim gave her a questioning look, she shook her head and later swore him to silence. 
Every time she heard someone mention their parents were going, she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. Every time Tim mentioned bringing it up to you, she swore him into silence again. It wouldn’t be the first time no one showed up for her. She was however thankful you wouldn’t be at the manor as much so she didn’t have to pretend to like you.
When the day arrived, Steph was not having a good day. School dragged on slowly. Slower than normal. When school finally ended, she had to sit in the classroom and watch everyone else that was in her class leave and the parents of her classmates show up while no one was there or coming for her.
Someone sat in the seat next to her, she expected another family member of one of her classmates. Definitely not you. She couldn’t return your smile, too unsure of how you found out, the fact you actually showed up, and how she felt about you being there. You leaned a little closer so that the others in the room wouldn’t easily overhear. 
“I know I’m not your parent and someone you just pretend to like so if you want me to leave I will. But I figured someone was better then no one. Oh, and Tim wanted me to tell you he didn’t spill. Your teacher called the manor because no one had RSVPed for you and I answered it.”
That night, as Steph showed off all her hard work to you, the charade fell. She actually enjoyed her time with you and the boost of pride as you oohed and ahhed over all her projects and listened to her explain all the little details. That night, Steph realized, she didn’t need to keep pretending. She liked you, until she found out you didn’t like her favorite show but a nerf war solved that. 
Cass could tell you were different then the other girlfriends, your body language as you interacted with all of them showed it. However that didn’t mean she knew how to interact with you.
She had learned that she was fairly hard for new people to interact with. She also knew she had trouble interacting with people she wasn’t fighting. So it wasn’t a surprise when it started rocky. 
What was a surprise, was when you found out she was still having trouble reading and writing, you stepped in to help. Well, that wasn’t the surprising part, a lot of girlfriends did that. The surprising part was the amount of patience you had when it was only the two of you. 
When one method didn’t help, you tried another. Never once did you snap at her or call her a name. Everytime you got frustrated you would stop and look at her, say something along the lines of “If I had as much trouble with this as you do, I wouldn’t want to keep trying. You're doing absolutely amazing! I’ll keep looking for other ideas, but for now, lets take a break and get a treat.” 
Cass wasn’t sure why that always made her feel better, but it did. Every treat you brought was something you made just for the tutoring sessions and it always reminded her of what Alfred had told her once. “Something made with love for you will always taste better.”
And when a method that made it a little easier to learn was found, Cass found herself smiling along with your cheers. Bad days where she couldn’t seem to make any progress were always met with the same excitement, cheers, patience, and treats that all the others were. 
Cass still wasn’t sure of what to think of you exactly, but she knew she liked you and that you cared about her.
So when Tim saw the new rise in hate, a sibling meeting was called. They all went through each site, blood boiling as they saw what people were saying about their new parent. Plans were made, declarations of war were ready, and anger fueled all of them. Bruce could tell something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was and as long as it didn’t get out of had, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to deal with it. 
War was declared in an interview by Steph. The lady was asking questions when the topic switched to Bruce, then you. The reporter was clearly trying to subtly find some dirt on you and Steph was not going to stand for it.
“Oh yeah! Y/n! She’s the best!” She put on her best press face. Trying to hide her anger over the hidden intent. She didn’t have to lie or act when talking about you but the change in the lady’s face going to disappointment when she didn’t get anything she wanted was making her look very punchable. 
“She’s always showing up for us and making sure we’re doing ok. If Y/n and Bruce were to break up, I think most of us would go with Y/n.” The way the lady kept trying to get anything really got on her nerves and Steph decided she needed to get out of there before she started using the lady’s face for target practice. You wouldn’t like that.
Cass was the first one to resort to violence. They had asked a thinly veiled question, basically asking if you were a golddigger. So she punched him in the nose and leaned down to flip the camera off. She hated interviews already but that made it so much worse. She hoped you wouldn’t be too upset with her punching the guy though.
Jason, surprisingly enough. Did not get violent… physically. He did however curse one out and threaten him when the reporter implied you were forcing them to say nice things. When the reporter kept pressing Jason broke his mic and told him if he ever heard him talking bad about you again, a broken mic would be the last of his worries. Jason knew you would be disappointed but he had held back, he didn’t shoot the guy like he wanted.
Tim threw his coffee at one reporter because he heard them say you were nothing but a regular person who didn’t deserve any attention. He then took over her segment, threatening the company to air it or he would make sure they went bankrupt. Once he finished his threats, anything he said was praising you name. Telling everyone how amazing you were and how much they all loved you.
Barbara made it a point to bring up everything you did for the community when they tried to throw some shade at you in an interview. She had documents to prove it and hacked their systems to add them into the interview so they couldn’t claim it was fake. She also made sure to run over his foot when she left. 
Dick punched a reporter when they tried to ask him what you were really like behind closed doors. He told them the truth, that you were just as good, kind, patient, and loving behind closed doors as you were out in public. He didn’t throw a punch until the reporter disregarded that as asked again because she couldn’t be that good. Dick knew a lecture would be coming once you saw, but he would rather sit through a lecture then let anyone tarnish your name.
Damian spent 10 minutes cursing and threatening a reporter in Arabic when they asked him if you had ever hurt him. When he was done, he told them in english, that if he ever got asked that question again, he would impale them. He knew you were going to make him sit down and translate everything and the general response you would give but he didn’t care, no one speaks bad about either of his mothers.
Bruce figured out what was going on after Steph’s interview. He saw the ones where they assaulted or threatened the reporters and made sure his lawyers were on standby to keep the kids out of trouble. After all, he had seen more than they had. 
He had watched as you tried to connect with Dick early on, how you worked hard to try and get somewhere. He had woken up before you when Dick had come in that night and heard how you handled it. He had woken up the next morning to find you holding Dick close, like you were trying to protect him from the nightmares. He had seen how you never turned Dick down when he wanted comfort, no matter how serious or silly the matter, and he had heard your excitement when you told him Dick liked you.
Bruce had seen the way you never missed a visit to Jason’s grave, on a visit of his own, he saw how much care you showed the stone marking it as his lost son. While he hadn’t been sure why it was alway the same time on Tuesday, he didn;t mention it. He felt the way you would sob in his arms after each visit, a year after the tradition started, you always said you had promised not to tell and he watched as you kept that promise even if it tore you to pieces. Once the shock and tears wore off for a little bit, he could see the trust that Jason had in you.
He heard the way you questioned if you should have a key to the manor, you didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable in his own home, or how you questioned if you should visit while he was gone. Not wanting to stress Tim out when there was no reason too. He saw the way you and Tim grinned at each other when you brought snacks down for all the kids he was currently lecturing. He head the excitement in your voice as you told him about the tour Tim had given you of the Batcave and the shared laughter as you and Tim worked together to win the nerf war.
Bruce saw how you worked to give Damian the affection he didn’t think he needed. He felt you crying in his arms upset over the fact Damian thought you would be angry because he made a mistake or struggled in a class. He heard you practicing your Arabic as you got ready for bed and he watched as you stress paced over whether or not you said the right thing to him about his mother. 
He saw how angry you had been when you came back from your day out with Barbara. He had heard your call with your lawyer as you tried to figure out what to do. He saw you going through the laws and making a list to make sure your lawyer didn’t miss any. He heard about the movie you didn’t particularly care about and the lore you remembered in case of another because you wanted Barbara to have someone she could tell all of her favorite things too. 
Bruce saw the pictures you had taken from the school night. He heard all the details from you as you praised Steph’s work. He saw the way Steph stopped acting around you and the silly arguments the two of you would get into for fun. He heard the way you would listen to her as she verbally worked out her problems. He saw the way Steph looked for you in a crowd, the way she knew you were there but not where you stood exactly, the thought of you not being there never crossed her. 
He saw the way you stayed up late, researching different ways to teach reading and writing. He heard the patience and kindness and you worked with Cass. He saw the way you always made a treat just for Cass to have after each lesson because you wanted to reward her hard work. He heard the way you cried for Cass when she had a bad day and got frustrated with herself because you knew she was smart and you wanted her to see it too. He heard your celebrations when Cass made any progress, no matter the size. 
Bruce heard, saw, and felt the way you worked hard to have a relationship with his kids. How you had mourned for their losses, celebrated their wins, and felt their pain. He saw the way his kids blossomed under your care, growing to be better and more confident in themselves. The way you cared for them as if they were your own flesh and blood. So when he was asked about his kids behavior, he said as much. 
“Y/n has worked hard to be accepted by them. She’s given so much of her time, effort, patience, and love and never wanted anything in return. She always shows up for them, no matter what the occasion is, big or small, it doesn’t matter. If they want her there, she’ll be there. Everytime they need or want her, she’s there. She never judges them and treats them as if they were her own blood. Of course their upset and lashing out, people are insulting the woman who has cared for them more then most of their biological mothers.”
Later, a clip of you scolding Bruce and all the kids went viral. While you were scolding them over their behavior and making the kids who had reacted with violence or threats write apology letters because asking mean questions does not make it right to respond badly especially when its someone just trying to start drama. Everyone one noticed that there was no actual bite to your tone and no anger when they all refused to stop acting like that. In fact, there was a small soft smile on your face as you shook your head at your family.
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AITA for not having time to read my mutual's writing?
Met a mutual on here, bonded through fanfic, have been tight with them for a few years with pretty much no bumps in the relationship, just overall had a really good time hanging around them when I could. We both write a lot and share our writing, and occasionally we talk about that writing/workshop it in passing.
In the past few years I've gone through a ton of life changes. Most notably I went from a multi-person household to a single-person one, and I've been living alone in a prohibitively costly city for a while now working 40 hour weeks and barely scraping by. As soon as the transition started I spent the last of my free income on a shitty little laptop so I could still write, putting down words on my bus/train commutes in the morning and quite literally writing on my breaks at work because I feel insane when I can't create. I bring this up to really stress that I don't have the time for the hobby, I force myself to make the time and even then it never feels like enough.
The only thing I can really stand to do with my 3 hours of free time at night is hang out with my moots online. I'm an extrovert so being around people recharges me. If I don't have designated social time I get super depressed and can pretty much feel my soul withering away. I also feel like I should probably mention that I kinda have a slew of mental issues, personality disorders and PTSD and AuDHD and the works. Point being, shit is rough my dude, but I am a person who likes to work hard and face challenges head on and even though we strugglin, we doing it with a positive outlook.
But! I am an incredibly solution-oriented person and I have found what I personally believe to be a good balance. No one should have to live like this, but I do, and I have found a way to be happy. My writing and my social time is all load-bearing. It is not something I just choose to do on a whim, it's all planned and scheduled and I adhere to those routines very strictly because, I cannot stress this enough, I will go fucking bonkers if I don't.
I'm mutuals with a lot of writers obv, and I sadly don't have time to read their work anymore, unless I get some extra time on my days off or something gets cancelled or like, I end up taking a vacation. I carry a great amount of guilt for this, though, even though I logically know it's reasonable. I try to support them where I can, cheer them on when I see them writing and tell them how cool their ideas sound, hype them up even when I can't actually read & review.
One of the things I do is sometimes I leave a kudos on fic I haven't read. I'm not trying to be ingenuine, and if they asked me I'd tell them like 'Oh I didn't read it yet, just wanted to show support!' but to me it's kinda like ripping a paper tab off a poster so that other's feel inclined to do the same. Plus my pals get a little email and a hit of serotonin.
Except one of my acquaintances, the one I mentioned at the start here, saw that I left kudos on a couple pieces another mutual of mine wrote this year. They more or less blew up my DMs with a ton of accusatory (like, literally presented like a 'GOTCHA!') stuff about how I was selective in who's fic I read, more or less implying that I secretly held some sort of grudge or negative feeling toward them and was making the conscious decision not to read or interact with their writing because of. Something, I don't actually know what they were trying to say. They also told me they vented to their friends about this MULTIPLE times, but they never once approached me to let me know they were feeling paranoid or neglected, they literally just took the most bad faith reading of it possible and then presented that to me like it was something I intentionally did, while the whole time I was unaware.
I tried to explain to them the kudos thing, that I didn't do it to every story, just ones I caught/noticed in my busy schedule. And I laid all this out and asked, multiple times, what free time am I supposed to read with? They didn't answer, and doubled down, kept trying to show me 'proof' that I was shorting them and no one else. Once they started to realize how wrong they were they backed down, but they didn't really apologize, or admit they were wrong, and they tried to end our relationship and left every single server we were in together. Because of some other unrelated stuff going on in my life, I didn't really consider them to be a close friend, but they were someone I really held dear and would've walked through hell for if they'd asked.
I still feel like there is something I'm missing here, and that's why I wanted to ask if I'm TA. I'm a pretty good communicator but one of the things I told myself when talking down my disordered thoughts (guilt about this prior) was "no one in their right mind would use reading fanfic as a metric for friendship." Now that I've had that exact thing happen, I'm starting to think maybe those thoughts weren't so disordered. Maybe this IS a big deal, and I should think about it more, but I don't even know what the solution to that would be. I just. Don't have time to read something lovingly crafted and appreciate it for what it is. All the hours in my week are used up, I'd have to lose sleep for this and with my mental health the way it is that is not an option.
Feel free to be a brutal, my skin is thick. Thanks!
What are these acronyms?
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kennedyhateskanye · 3 months
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Across the ellieverse
An: you guys ate up my horny looser!ellie??!!??? I’ve been silently consuming Ellie Williams smut fan fiction for like a year now and it’s so silly and fun that I wrote something that made people horny. Swear I’ll write another one once I perfect the concept in my little Neanderthal mind.
Concept: there are so many distinct versions of Ellie on here that you guys write about, and I am so attracted to each and every one of them. This is kind of a conglomerate of some of my favorites.
STRICTLY 18+
—————————————
Hockeyplayer!ellie who calls you a puck bunny and smacks your ass when you ride her thick strap, she’s got that hockey accent and it comes out stronger than usual when she’s inside of you. She pumps hard cause sports have turned her into someone so cocky and vain. It makes it feel even better when she gets off the ice after a rough game, yanking jerseys and shoving players to protect her goal tender. she takes her mouth gaurd out and pumped full of the pride from her fresh win, she fucks you doggy style in the locker room with her jersey between her teeth exposing her flexing abdominal muscles. Insists on you wearing something cute, but not too slutty to her games because she doesn’t need her teammates getting a peak up your skirt while they’re waiting in the box by the stands.
Looser!ellie who whimpers when she pushes her fingers inside you for the first time, practically drooling while she heavy breathes. She’s got a shocked look on her face the whole time, taking in the smell and taste of pussy since shes never experienced it before. Her plaid boxers are soaked when you let her play with your cunt. she whispers things like “oh my fuck” under her breath as she whines from the sight of your sloppy pussy swallowing her fingers. The first time you two properly made out and she got to grope your tits, she was literally eyes blown wide mouth open. Her voice cracked as she said “mm is this okay” whimpering as she smooshed your tits together, SALAVATING at the sight. That night while you kissed sloppily she found herself rutting and against you in her jeans, she was so embarrassed but she just couldn’t help it.
Toxic!ellie who wants you to know she could have anyone she wants, when you argue she sends you the old photos she has in her my eyes only, of her fucking girls like they were an expendable commodity. She knew you’d be too jealous not to forgive her, afraid she’d go out and fuck some girl if you carried on pouting. While she pounds into you she presses down on your tummy, leans into your ear and sternly says “take it bitch”. You two were constantly on again off again, you’d make it a couple days without talking to her after your friends finally convinced you she was horrible for you, and to block her. then you’d get a text from a ‘text now’ number saying simply, “let me the fuck in, I’m at the side door.” She knows how addicted to her you are, and she makes sure to bring it up when she’s slamming you into the mattress, ass bent over the bed, and ripping your skirt up over your legs. “You know you can’t go without this dick, can you?” Of course, you give into her mind games “n-no! Fuck, mmmm I can’t go without it”
Pornstar!ellie who knows your the real star of the show, makes sure the livestream gets a good view of your pussy as she rubs your clit, smacks it, and asks the chat a series of questions. “Isn’t this pussy so pretty” “what should I do to it ?” “How long do you think she’d last if I tied and vibed her today, I know you guys fucking love that” “she won’t stop squirming, what should i do to make sure she sits still and shuts the fuck up, I’m trying to film”
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alisonwritesimagines · 8 months
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Please Don't Be In Love With Someone Else ~LA!Shanks x Reader x LA!Mihawk Imagine~
Summary: You keep waiting for Shanks. But someone new comes along and suddenly, you're not so lonely.
Author’s Note: You read the title correctly. I'm evilly laughing right now as you read this in pain. Also, this is technically a rewrite of the angst ending cause the one I wrote and in my drafts is more fluff than angst.
Angst Ending to I Was Enchanted to Meet You
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings: angst, fluff, but angst to all you Shanks lovers
Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!
Do not repost this anywhere!
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It had been years since you last saw Shanks. And it's been a year since you last saw Luffy. Ever since he was old enough to sail off in the world to find the One Piece to become King of the Pirates, you had been by yourself since. Of course you did a lot for your small village to keep you occupied but you still missed your boys.
You were tending to your garden as it was time for you to harvest before it became spoiled and over grown. That was until you heard someone say something behind you.
“You don’t seem like someone who can harm a fly."
You turned around to see the warlord Dracule Mihawk standing before you. You stood up straight to seemed less intimidated.
“I can hurt a fly. Don’t think I’m good at harming anyone else,” you tell him as you crossed your arms.
“I see.”
“I know who you are so what do you want?” You asked.
“I was sent to kill you but in all honesty, I don’t think I can kill you. You’re too beautiful to be killed,” he tells you.
“Who sent you to kill me?” You asked, now worried. You’ve stayed in the island since you were born. Not only that, you stayed even when Luffy left.
“Not to worry now. I don't have any intentions to kill you," he tells you.
"Then what are you still doing here?"
"I'm curious to see why someone would send me to go after you."
"Feel free to stay. Just to tell you, it's going to be quite boring," you tell him.
Mihawk stayed around the next day to watch over you. He didn't understand why Vice Admiral Garp would want a warlord like him to kill a sweet little thing like yourself. You did nothing of the sort that would be considered dangerous or even pirate bounty level dangerous.
"Ow!" You yelled as you accidently burnt yourself with the pan.
"What happened? What's wrong?" Mihawk asked you as he rushed inside your home.
"Just burned myself," you tell him.
Mihawk quickly grabbed your bucket of water before gently putting your finger in the cool liquid.
"Thanks," you tell him.
"Of course."
"I made extras if you'd like. I got used to cooking for two," you tell him.
"Was it for you and your past lover?" Mihawk asked you.
"Not really surprisingly. I used to take care of a little boy who used to live with me who had a bottomless stomach. He wanted to become a pirate so he set sail a year ago," you tell him.
"I see."
"So, dinner?"
"Why not."
Mihawk stayed for a couple more weeks before he needed to back out to sea. You stood on the deck as you watched Mihawk get ready to leave.
"So I guess this is farewell?" You asked him.
"For now. I will be back in a month at most," he tells you.
"To finish me off and claim your berry?" You asked.
"No. To come see you again," Mihawk said before sailing off. You shook your head at him before walking back to your home.
You assumed Mihawk was lying or joking when he said he was coming back to see you. But to your surprise, you opened your door to see him standing before you.
"Brought you some new seeds for you to grow in your garden," Mihawk tells you.
"I'm guessing you're staying for dinner?" You asked with a small smile.
"If you'd have me," Mihawk said. You nodded before letting him inside your house.
-
As much as you didn't want to admit, you fell for Mihawk. Even though part of you hoped for Shanks to come back, you appreciated the fact that no matter how long Mihawk was gone for or even if he was wounded badly, he came back to you. Even though Shanks would come back to you, he hasn't for years.
"Will you be mine?" Mihawk asked you one night. After a midnight stroll, you both headed back to your home. Mihawk stopped you from walking inside by holding your hand.
"What?" You asked in shock.
"Be mine. I've fallen for you Y/n. And I swear to you, I would never let anything happen to you," Mihawk tells you.
"Alright. I'll be yours," you tell him. Mihawk gave you a small smile before pulling you towards him.
"May I kiss you?" Mihawk asked you.
"Yes."
Mihawk cupped your cheek with his hand before leaning in to kiss you.
-
Shanks rushed over to your home after being away for so many years. He was excited to tell you his adventures and was looking forward to seeing you once again. He knocked on your door, his heart pounding in excitement.
Instead of seeing you, he saw someone else open the door. His smile faltered as he stared at the stranger in front of him.
"May I help you?" The stranger asked him.
"My apologies. I was hoping to find Y/n L/n? The woman who lived here?" Shanks asked.
"Oh. I'm sorry. She's been gone for quite sometime. She left the village I want to say two years ago? Her and her husband moved to another island."
"Her husband?"
"Yes. I'm surprised she married a warlord but he had been kind to the village whenever he was here," the stranger pointed out.
"Do you happened to know her husband's name?"
"I believe it was Dracule Mihawk."
Shanks made it to Mihawk's castle where he knew you would be at. After demanding to see you, Mihawk came out to talk to him.
"You should know my wife is resting," Mihawk tells him.
"You took her from me," Shanks angrily tell him.
"I didn't take her from anyone. When I met her, she was alone," Mihawk informs him.
"She never told you about me?" Shanks asked.
"No she has. I just never told her that I knew you."
"Please. Let me see her!" Shanks asked.
"Let me see if she's well enough to move," Mihawk said.
"Is she sick?" Shanks asked.
"Not entirely."
Shanks waited anxiously for you to come down. His eyes widen when he saw Mihawk helping you down. Your stomach was large but he knew that it was because you were pregnant. And what's worse was that it wasn't Shanks's child you were carrying. It was Mihawk's child.
"Shanks?" You asked in shock.
"Hi, Y/n."
-
You sat in the garden with Shanks alone so you two could talk. Shanks stared at you, admiring your beauty once more. While you thought you were alone, Shanks knew that Mihawk was watching nearby.
“Are you happy my love?” Shanks asked you as he held your hand.
“I am. Hawk Eye makes me happy,” you tell him with a small smile.
“I’m happy that you’re happy.”
“I did wait for you Shanks. I really did. But I feared that if I waited any longer, I’d be too old for you,” you tell him with a frown.
“You could never be too old for me. You could have white hair and many wrinkles and I’d still think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” Shanks tells you. You smiled at him before tearing up.
“I loved you Shanks. And I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you longer."
“Don’t apologize my love. I’m sorry I didn’t come back to you sooner,” Shanks said. You nodded before taking off your makeshift necklace that held the ring Shanks gave to you. You handed it over to Shanks before kissing his cheek.
“I hope life treats you well and I hope you find a woman who will love you endlessly as much as I did,” you tell him.
“And if Hawk Eyes dares to lay a hand on you, come find me. I’ll protect you.”
“I know you will."
"So this is goodbye then huh?" Shanks asked you.
"If you find Luffy, tell him I miss him and love him dearly. And that, he's more than welcome to visit me or find me whenever he wants," you tell him. After all, Luffy was yours and Shanks's unofficial son and you two were his unofficial parents.
"Goodbye, Shanks,” you tell him before giving him a kiss on the cheek once more.
“Goodbye, my love.”
You sat on the couch in your lounge room waiting for your son to arrive with his new fiancée. Twenty five years had gone by and you had lived your life. Dracule sat next to you as you both waited for your son to come home. Now that your husband has retired from being a pirate, he had spent his time with you while your children explored the world.
“I wonder what she’ll be like,” you tell your husband.
“I trust his judgement. After all, I chose well didn’t I?” Dracule joked.
“You most certainly did,” you smiled.
“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” You heard your son say.
“Over here!” You called from where you were.
You smiled at your son the moment he walked in but your eyes widen from the sight of the woman next to him. Not only did she have the exact same hair as Shanks, but she also had the same eyes as him. It was no doubt that she was Shanks's daughter.
“Mother. Father. This is my fiancée, May,” your son said proudly. You smiled at the woman before getting up from your chair to greet her.
“It’s nice to meet you, May,” you tell her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Mihawk.”
“Please call me Y/n,” you tell her as you shook her hand. You noticed her necklace with a ring on it. It looked exactly like the one Shanks gave to you from years before.
“I like your necklace,” you say.
“Oh thank you. My father gave it to me. Said it was his prize possession,” she tells you. You felt your heart break a little from what she said.
“Will we be able to meet your parents soon?” You asked.
“Unfortunately no. My mother passed away from childbirth and my father passed away not too long ago,” she tells you. You frown from hearing that.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright. I’m really glad to have met your son,” May tells you. You smiled at her before giving her a hug.
“Well, I know my son will treat you well. And if he doesn’t, you tell me,” you tell her. May smiled at you before looking at your son.
At the end of the night, you stood outside on your balcony as you stared up at the stars.
Maybe this was the universe telling you that in another life, you and Shanks end up together. But you did wish he didn’t have to be gone so soon. You wished that he would’ve came back to you sooner and maybe you two could've had the future you two wanted together.
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jeonsbabygirlsworld · 6 months
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INDECISION
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SUMMARY: You feel really insecure these days after giving birth to your second daughter but for your sake Jungkook is there to tell you on how pretty you are.
PAIRINGS: established relationship Jungkook X Reader.
WORD COUNT:1.1K
WARNINGS: reader is insecure about her body, Koo coming to rescue her, Dad kook :(. Bam is there as always! Reader is called Jagi sometimes.
SMUT WARNIGS: Kissing, lactation kink, mentions of male masturbation, she gets a bit shy because she didn't shave down there, fingering,cream pie, missionary , after care, lmk if I missed anything .
A/n : small teeny Drabble for y’all , wrote this instead of studying for my exam 😬🧍🏻‍♀️ Tumblr works on reblog system please reblog !! Also a simple “it good or it’s great”can make my entire day 💞This is 400+ followers special enjoy ! ❤️
“Daddy please” Hani pleaded with her doe eyes looking at Jungkook he sighed “No baby I’m sorry”Hani started fussing when he said no “Look baby you already have many dolls?” He said softly picking her up from the ground. His 4-year-old daughter was stubborn just like her mom and wanted the doll “One more won’t hurt Daddy” she said pouting her lips.  
Sighing he gave in and went to buy that for her. Jungkook thought of buying some groceries from the nearby mall when Hani spotted a doll shop, she promised she would only look around but instead, she started fussing when Jungkook wouldn’t let her take one.  
Loading all the groceries into the back of the car Hani was already settled in her car seat “Let’s go home soon and meet Mommy and Chae ” Jungkook said wiggling his eyebrows and starting his car, soft music playing in the car.  
You had to freshen up once again for the second time today, Chae your younger daughter puked out the milk you fed her. She was now asleep in her bed. Bam and you decided to play a bit waiting for your husband and daughter to come, Jungkook texted you he was on the way. Getting up Bam and you went to the kitchen to prepare something while Chae was still asleep.  
You heard the front door unlocking Hani came running to the kitchen “Hi Mommy see I bought a new doll, where is Chae is she asleep again?” Hani bombarded you with questions never really staying to one point “Wow baby, yeah Chae is asleep go wake her yeah sweetie?” You said kissing her cheeks “Hey baby, got something for you” Jungkook handed you some of your favourite chocolates and some fresh white tulips he picked up while on his way back home.
Bam rushed towards both of them wiggling his tail and climbing up in Jungkook's arm . Kissing him you told him to change and get ready to eat dinner.  
Chae was now awake playing with Hani and Bam while Jungkook helped you place the dishes on your dining table. “Hani come here and have your dinner baby” you said placing her favourite plate and spoons. "Yes, Mommy coming " Hani said while standing up while Chae cooed and started crying when Hani came to the dining table, grabbing her from her crib you had your little one in arms. " I'll go and feed bam, start with your dinner Jagi" Jungkook said standing up from his seat. Dinner soon ended with laughs and giggling Hani told me about her new Kindergarten and her friends. 
Both of your daughters knocked up soon while watching some animated movies. Bam was already rested in his kennel, tucking them on the bed you went to change, to sleep soon.  
While changing you stood in front of the mirror and sighed , Jungkook hummed at the site of you sighing "Kook I don't feel confident and pretty about my body anymore " you said slightly embarrassed and tears beaming in your eyes. "What are you saying baby, you look perfect," Jungkook said keeping his phone on the nightstand.
It’s been 4 months since you both had sex, the last time you had sex was when you were eight months pregnant. you've heard Jungkook jerking off in the shower once in a while. "Baby you look so fucking perfect, what makes you think you're not pretty?" he said sitting in front of you and grabbing your shoulders " I don't know kook I have stretch marks all over my stomach and thighs, I have baby fat still in my body," you said tearing up. Jungkook sighed kissing your cheeks " Baby it's serious why didn't you tell me this earlier? " Jungkook was shocked about why you didn’t let him know.
" you've given birth to our child baby, and about stretch marks you should not feel you're not pretty anymore, and some baby fat looks cute on you, you have them in the right spots," Jungkook says now lying over your breasts, laughing through tears you wave him off. Jungkook then kisses your lips slowly which soon turns into a make out session. "You're fine with having sex with me tonight baby?" he asked making sure you were comfortable with it.
Nodding at him he helps you to undress when you get a bit shy under his gaze "Kook I haven’t been shaving down there lately” you say in a slow tone we wave off saying “It’s fine baby” and move down towards your stomach slowly leaving wet kisses on your stretch marks and fat, leaning he is met with the site of your wet pussy.  
Groaning at the site “fuck so wet baby, what got you so worked up?” Jungkook whispered before leaning in to give a soft kiss to your core. Closing your eyes, you let yourself enjoy the pleasure he gave. “Ah ah baby watch me” He tutted “Tell me what you want baby, gonna give you everything you deserve” he added “Want your mouth kook” you said grabbing his hair. “Take what you want to have it your way,” he says softly sucking on your soaked clit “You taste like a fucking candy” Jungkook praises you for being a good girl and how wet you were “fuck so tight baby” curses left your mouth when he fingered you through your orgasm. 
Bawling your eyes out you finally came on his fingers “You gonna take my cock baby?” Jungkook said still unsure “Yeah kook want you in me now,” you said reassuring him “Looks so good waiting for me, glad I knocked you up with my babies” he groaned .
“My sexy baby mama, never gonna make you feel bad about your insecurities they look fucking perfect” his thrusts were getting rough but you both were careful to not make a bit of noise, Jungkook's hand pressed against your mouth to keep you from your moaning getting louder. His hands massaged your breasts and a few bits of milk oozing out of them made his lactation kink awake, sucking on them he moans at the sweet taste.  
“Fuck Jagi I’m gonna fucking come” Arrays of curses left your mouth, and slopping noises of your wet pussy made him cum faster than he even though “fuck kook so messy” you chuckle feeling the slick drip down to your ass. Laughing he settles his head on your neck whispering sweet things in your ear and occasionally biting on them. He backs away and brings in a towel to clean you up.  
You both cuddle up against each other wearing some cloths because Hani has a habit of barging in your room at early morning. Jungkook went to check up on both of them kissing their cheeks and closing the door. The baby monitor helps you when Chae cries in middle of night thankfully she was asleep.  
Whispering I love You's Sleep soon overcome you both.  
Taglist : @kimmingyuswifee , @jungk97kwife , @olimpiiaa , @ellesalazar , @hopeonysus , @diorh0seokie , @yvonnexojeon , @diamondjeon , @kookswifesblog , @talyaaas-blog , @jk-hoe97 , @jeoninknown , @dna-black-and-blue
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Text
Swipe (Lucifer morningstar x reader)
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Description: after his divorce, he finally gets back into the dating game…through a dating app :)
Please note I’m writing this before the release of ep7 and ep8 so-
Takes place between ep 5 and right before ep 6
I wrote nearly 98% of this at like 3 AM-
Part 1 of 3
Warning: Lucifer being a dork, Lucifer being a dorky dad, age gap(reader died at like 25 and Lucifer is like a good few thousands years old so), talk of divorce, Charlie being a supportive daughter, I’ve never used a dating apps so i might get info wrong, Lucifer doesn’t know modern day technology or slang, lying, Lucifer straight up cat fishing reader,
No one’s POV
Lucifer was a wreck after his divorce with Lilith. Becoming the shell of the man he was, going from a family-oriented to a man who barely talk to anyone. After visiting his daughter and her hotel, he knew he had to be there, he already missed so much he wasn’t gonna miss another second of it. Becoming the best father he could also meant moving on, it’s been seven years since the separation. Charlie knew her Dad had been in pain since the divorce but she could tell, he was trying and she was going to be there.
Lucifer’s POV
“Charlie, are you sure about this?” I ask still hesitant, I knew Charlie just wanted to help and had the best intentions, but a dating app?  “Of course!” Charlie exclaimed, face lite up. “It’s perfect! You get to meet people without the face to face interactions!” Charlie said downloading the app, viva by Voxtech.
Charlie’s was more excited than I was, I wanted to meet people but an app? I can’t help but feel my heart race and my body get heavy, why was I this nervous. In the middle of my overthinking Charlie handed me the phone, it had a profile made it had my name and many details. It felt like I was giving it to all 9 rings of hell! “Ok! How we gotta add some photos an-“
“Charlie!”
We both turned are head to see Alastor and Vaggie standing there. “Can you help with something real quick?” Vaggie ask seeming annoyed. “Of course!” Charlie’s called back before as standing up. “You go ahead and add those photos dad I’ll be back!” Charlie said as she ran to the two, leaving me alone on the couch staring at the screen. 
I read over the info and it all was so…personal. How would anyone be comfortable putting this much out? I Don’t get me started with being the King of Hell it’s self, then an idea popped in my head. I turn my head slightly to see Charlie still talking to the pair so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I added photos of my duck inventions and made a duck with a white top hat as my ‘icon’. Now onto the name, Lucifer was too out there everyone would know, think! L names that are similar.
Lucifer..
Luci…
Luc…
Luca..
Luca! I instantly think changing the name quickly, removing the last name from the profile along with it. After that it looked like a normal profile. When I finished and satisfied with it Charlie was walking back over. “Sorry bout that dad! Now back to w-.” While she was speaking I shove my phone in my pocket and stand up. “No it’s fine! I set it up!” I nearly screamed it out as I stood from the couch. Charlie stared at me shock for a moment before her normal bright smile returned to her face. “Wow that’s great!” She said as she walked over “Look at you getting the hang of technology!” Charlie said happily. I didn’t know why I was so nervous by an app, but it was on my mind. After finishing talking to Charlie I was able to leave, soon I was back in my bedroom. I let out a sigh and feel onto the massive bed and pulled out my phone, Viva still open.
Y/N POV
Left..Left..Left..
God this app was a never ending app of swiping left on people wanting hook-ups was tiring. This was the last time I’d take F/N advice and use a dating app, the fact they exist in hell was already surprising. It was nude after nude of people looking for a hookup. Then something different popped up, instead of the naked body I almost have gotten used to, I was greeted by a rubber duck with a white top hat. My eyes widen a bit as I layed there I swipped to look at the second photo, more ducks. I then moved and read the bio. “Luca..” I said quietly to myself reading the short info. I looked at the photos and the bio, it stood out in the sea of profile, i stair a while longer…
…Right.
“CONGRATS! YOU GOT A MATCH!” Popped up on my screen in red shades, with the little duck icon. “…that was quick” I think to myself. I click on the little message option.
Y/N - Hi :)
No ones POV
Lucifer layed there looking at the profiles, this was dating. More like brothel. He could barely understand, after swiping left a few times he chose to just turn off his phone, it was a mistake to think an app could help. Almost as soon as Lucifer sat his phone down his phone went off, illuminating the room …then it went off again.
Lucifer raised an eyebrow picking up his phone to see two notifications, both from Viva. Seeing a match with someone named Y/N and a message from them. Lucifer felt himself lose the ability to breathe, “A match?” Lucifer asked himself, confused on what that meant, he open the Add to be greeted my the words “CONGRATS! YOU GOT A MATCH!” And the icon that belong to Y/N.
The icon was a photo of Y/N. Lucifer’s eyes lit up and he finally let out a breath. He admired their features. Their H/C H/L that looked perfect, their E/C eyes drew him in. He clicked the image see their profile, he was greeted my a normal photo of you, it stood out. Lucifer saw the message illuminating in corner of the screen, he let out a breath and opened the message and saw a simple
Y/N - “Hi :)”
I sat their staring at the message before typing himself
Luca - Hi
Time skip (why? Because I fucking said so.)
Over the past few weeks, Lucifer and Y/N talked every day. Learning every little detail of each other. Lucifer learned about your job, your friends, how you lived and how you died even. He couldn’t help but want to know everything.
Y/N learned he had a daughter and that he’d been “recently divorced”, his words not theirs. Y/N learned that he loves ducks and creating new duck toys, he was a big dork, like a big puppy dog. Of course you didn’t know you were talking to Lucifer himself, you thought you were talking to a man named Luca…
During Lucifer’s now frequent visit to his daughter and her little Hazbin hotel, Charlie couldn’t help but notice how her dad was one his phone more then usual, usual being never. Naturally, Charlie was curious. “Sooo..” Charlie started, a little unsure what to say about her fathers new found internet obsession. “Who are you talking to?” Charlie ask curious.
Lucifer was quick to meet his daughters eyes and quickly put his phone face down on the table . “No one!” He said in an almost scream, before it buzzed again..and again…and again. Charlie eyes went between her dads now sweating face and and his phone. Before Lucifer could even react, Charlie reached for his phone. “Wait!” Lucifer said reaching for his phone from her hands, the phone screen lite up and Charlie was greeted my 4 notifications from someone named Y/N from Viva. Charlie gasp turning quickly turning to face him, Charlie’s face lite up like Christmas lights. “YOUR TALKING TO SOMEONE?!” Charlie squealed from excitement, since she helped set up his password she quickly opened his phone to see more.
“Charlie don’t-“ Lucifer started to say before seeing her face fall from its happy to confused. “Wait..” Charlie said looking at his profile, “why is your name ‘Luca’?” Charlie ask her eyes moving from his phone finally to be greeted with Lucifer’s red face “well…,” Lucifer started, “I wasn’t comfortable putting my name and photo on there so…I put a different name and photo.” Charlie’s face went from suprise to more annoyed, not angry, just disappointed. “Dad you can’t just do that!” Charlie said to her father, her free rubbing her face. “You can’t just catfish her!”
Lucifer looked confused, catfish? Like the animal? “Catfish?” Lucifer asked, truly not understanding the term. “Yes dad you can’t just lie about who you are to someone like that!” Charlie said scolding her father. Lucifer after that was able to put two and two together, the weight of what he’s been hit him like a bus. “Dad,” Charlie said letting out a sigh, “you have to come clean to them.” She said as she handed him his phone. “Char ITS not that easy!” Lucifer said taking the phone from then hand seeing them newest text, her caring words, them asking if he he’s eaten, remind him to take care of himself, her word hit his heart hard. “It’s not a normal situation, I’m the king of hell, not some random sinner!” Lucifer said he eyes not leaving the illuminated screen. “Dad, they’re gonna find out sooner or later, it’s better if you do it now, early into you talking then later..”
Lucifer stated quiet, he knew deep down she was right, he did truly like them and want more with them, he could only imagine how you’d react if he waited much longer it’s already been a few weeks… Lucifer let out a sigh and looked up at his daughter. “your right..” he said quietly, “I’ll tell them just…give me time..” Charlie stared for a moment before letting before smiling again. “Just do it soon dad…” Lucifer knew she was right.
Later that night Lucifer layed in his bed, looking at her last message, contemplating how to tell them, shoudl he texted it, no they’d think he’s joking, “maybe…” he though out loud. “A FaceTime..?” He asked himself, no, he didn’t even know how to start one… maybe…a date? You’d know he wasn’t lying about being satan himself, he could explain better then over a device and he could only imagine how beautiful you were in person… Lucifer looked down at the message you last send hesitation purged his mind, but slowly he began to type.
Luca - hey, can I ask you something?
Y/N - of course ask anything! :)
Luca - I was thinking he could go out sometime? Like a date going out.
After a a minute he saw you typing a new message. He could already feel his heart race a mile a minute, he felt a cold sweat form. Why was he so nervous? Then a little buzz when off, it was you he was hesitant but swipe to open the message.
Y/N - wait really? You wanna go on a date with me??
Lucifer swallowed the lump in his throat before typing with shaky fingers.
Luca - yes Y/N I really do.
Y/N - Yes I’d love to!! ❤️
Lucifer’s eyes lit up seeing you answer in only seconds, he can’t help but feel his heart flutter at the simple heart emoticon. Soon you both planned to meet for dinner the next night at a nice restaurant, named killer appetite, closer to the center of pentagram city, then he hit him…you both were actually going on a date. Together…
Y/N’s POV
When I saw his message asking me out, I could have screamed. He actually wanted to see me! I quickly typed and agreed to it. We chose dinner at a nice high end restaurant closer to the center of the city, I’ve heard of the place it was up scale. I was so ecstatic.
The next day at work couldn’t have gone slower, it felt like every minute was a hour long but as soon as that clock hit five, I was out the door racing home to get ready.As soon I was ready, my hair and outfit was perfect. I was quick out the door to the restaurant. On my way I received a message from Luca.
Luca - hey! Placed a reservation under L.M.
“L.M?” I asked myself, wondering what it meant, maybe his initials? I smile and replied ok,only a few minutes later I was at the restaurant, even though it was only 7 the restaurant was lively, full and packed. I walked over to the hostess stand.
“Hi, there should be a reservation for L.M?” I felt nervous, a mix of because of how busy it is and meet him…when I said the name of the reservation the hostess gave changed a mix of nervousness and excitement. “Of course! Right this way!” She said trying to put on a happy face but the nerves over shadowed that, she let me to a table already set up in a quieter area, almost completely different from the bustling atmosphere of the restaurant. “your server will be with you shortly, please enjoy!” She said as she raced out the room. I staired at the entrance way confused, why was that girl so nervous, and to have such a secluded area on a Friday night, it was unusual…
I sat down at the table that faced the entrance way. I pulled out my phone to text me.
Y/N - Hey! I just sat down! We have a really nice table, are you almost here? :)
I saw he read the text but no reply, I felt nervous again, my eyes kept watching my phone, my mouth was dry. But then I heard a voice “sorry I’m late..” the voice sounded nervous. I look up to a short blonde man. My eyes widen and my mouth is dry…
I was looking at Lucifer himself…
TAG LIST
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