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ellastone-olsen · 4 months

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can you write a smut story where reader had to wait the entire ceremony (Golden globes) before she could take the gorgeous dress off of Lizzie. And Lizzie’s been just teasing her so when they get home reader rips the dress and takes Lizzie please 🙏🏻 I love your writing <3

Wicked game | Elizabeth Olsen

★Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x fem!reader

Summary: your girlfriend has gone too far with her teasing. that's what it says in the request

★Warnings: SMUT 18+, teasing, dirty talk, overstimulation, sex toys, strap on usage, praise, aftercare, fluff

★Word count: 1.8k

★AN: I have some kind of creative block, but I'm alive. I spent 5 days on this little thing instead of the usual 1.

The car slowly cut through the road, drifting between streams of the same iron boxes on wheels. The interior of the black SUV was spacious, but you and Elizabeth still sat shoulder to shoulder as the pad of your thumb stroked her knee through the fabric of snow-white dress. "Am I look good?" such a simple question with an obvious answer, but she still needed your confirmation. You cupped her cheek with your hand and turned her head towards you. “You are always beautiful my love” You give her a quick kiss on the lips and then look into her big green eyes. An idea just came into her sweet head, otherwise you can’t explain the sudden change in mood. She takes your hand and places it on her chest. “Then can you show me how much?”

A shiver runs down your spine and you nervously look at the driver's seat, noticing how the man is looking at you through the rearview mirror. As soon as your gazes intersect, he immediately turns his eyes back to the road. “Oh don’t worry dear, he will have to pay dearly if he spills the beans about what he saw.” Elizabeth whispers in your ear, you hope that by pay she means money. She moves your hand further, under her dress so that you touch her bare breasts and moans softly in your ear, making your core begin to pulsate. "Babe." You're warning her not to start something she can't finish. Her teeth bite your earlobe and you want to pull her away by hair, but you remember about styling. "Elizabeth." Your stern tone and the full form of her name still have an effect and she moves away. You don’t respond to her sweet smile, the car is just stopping.

The Golden Globes look spectacular, but boring. You are absolutely not interested in the speeches all these people make when they receive an award. People you don't know say words of gratitude to people you don't know again. The waiters obligingly drift back and forth, serving glasses of champagne and appetizers that are inedible to your taste. You just stand on the side and look around while your girlfriend talks to other celebrities or gives interviews. When you finally sit down in your seats, you cross your legs and lean back, unable to sit up straight. Elizabeth sits in such a way that the Queen of England would envy her if she were alive.

Time passes and you drink your second glass of champagne when it seems to you that something is touching your leg under the table. You don't pay attention to it until the action is repeated. The head turns to your girlfriend, but it looks like Robert Downey Jr.'s award ceremony is the most interesting thing she's ever seen. However, where her hands are says otherwise. Elizabeth's right hand triples on your thigh, red nails lightly scratching through the thin fabric of your pants, sending shivers down your spine. You stare at her, but the older woman doesn’t even think of turning her head. "Stop it." Your irritated, harsh whisper flies past her. As a sign from above, the bell rings, signaling a break, and without wasting any time, you grab Elizabeth’s hand and drag her away towards the toilets.

She sighs when she suddenly finds herself pressed against the wall, of course you can be rude, but first cover the back of her head with your hand so that she doesn’t get hurt from the blow. “What games are you playing today?” A hot whisper near her ear makes the woman hold her breath for a couple of seconds. Her answer doesn't keep you waiting. “But you like it, don’t you?” Elizabeth puts her hands on your waist, touching you through your thin shirt and tilting her head to leave small, light bites on your neck. “If you continue, I’ll push you into the toilet, lock the common door, bend you over the counter and...” You lose your breath from the stronger bite. “And what, dear?” The bell rings again, signaling everyone to return to their seats. You stand pressed against her for a few seconds, then push yourself off the wall with your hands and rub your neck where Elizabeth’s lips were, erasing non-existent traces of lipstick. The two of you go to your seats and no one seems to notice your disheveled state.

The ride home is quick and quiet, for two reasons. The older woman realized that you would ruin her for all her antics as soon as she set foot on the threshold of the house. She was in anticipation and silently looked out the window, imagining all the options for the development of events. The second reason is what you said to the poor driver when you got into the car. “You have 10 minutes to take us back, Elizabeth is terribly tired.” The black car brought you home in exactly 10 minutes. You gave the driver a tip for being in a hurry, even though it was not customary. When the front door closed behind you, what the older woman expected and desired happened. You grabbed her hand and quickly led her to your bedroom. When the door to the room closed, in one motion you threw Elizabeth onto her stomach on the plush blanket of your large bed.

Your hands pushed her hair back, exposing her slender neck so you could kiss and bite it. The woman's hips shot up, but you blocked the movement by straddling her. “If you think that you will get what you want quickly, don’t hope.” The zipper of the white dress was pulled down, almost breaking the zipper. Her dress and panties disappeared from her in record time, and you somehow managed not to tear them.

When you took a few steps back admiring the picture in front of you, your gaze caught on her wet shiny folds. She had definitely been looking forward to this all day. Elizabeth turned her head to the lack of action on your part to check the situation and saw you taking out from the nightstand the black compact vibrator that she loved so much. There were two scenarios in her head: either now she would get the best orgasm of her life, or she would die from overstimulation, but she really hoped for the first.

You returned to your girlfriend and moved her hips closer to the edge of the bed so that she rested her knees on the plush pile of the carpet and exposed her ass to your view. Your hands stroked her soft thighs, you couldn’t resist and leaned towards her dripping center to run your tongue along the entire length, tasting her. A shaky sigh escaped the woman's mouth above you and you repeated the action, gripping her hips even harder (there might be bruises there later). A mixture of pleasure and slight pain made her unconsciously lean back for closer contact. In what seemed like such a simple and innocent action, your palm landed on her ass with a loud slap. "No, no, don't you dare move." There was the first warning, which caused a groan of pain to escape from the older woman.

After you were satisfied with her taste, two fingers slipped inside her so easily, stretching the velvet walls. The second hand pressed the toy’s power button and you set the speed to medium, bringing it to her pulsating clit. "Hold it." Elizabeth reached underneath her and grabbed the silicone object, holding it in place. “If you disobey me, an even worse punishment will follow. You understood?" The older woman's mind was clouded with pleasure, but she hummed in agreement anyway. Her thoughts were confused by the way you moved inside her, pressing on a sensitive spot. Another slap to her ass. "Use your words." Her back arched and she was ready to swear that she would cum from such rough treatment. “Yes, I understand...please Y/N.” With every thrust, you felt her walls squeezing tighter around you. Elizabeth could no longer find words and shouted curses into the emptiness of your house. “Fuck...I'm going to cum...please can I?...” You cut her off. "No. Take it away."

She obediently removed the toy from her throbbing clit, stopping any stimulation. You were still moving inside her, but it wasn't enough to make her fall over the edge. “Oh fuck...fuck...so good...please can I continue?” You were silent for a minute before you gave her permission, making sure she didn't cum instantly. The woman's hips jumped as the stimulation began again. You pounded into her at a fast pace and after a couple of minutes you felt your orgasm approaching again. "Elizabeth stop." Oh how she didn’t like it when you called her by her full name, it never meant anything good. She put the toy away again and you pulled out.

The woman heard the chest of drawers open again behind her, the sounds of the harness, and then the cold tip of the faux cock pressed into her dripping entrance. You spread her natural lub along entire length and pushed the thick toy into her in one motion. Your girlfriend’s mouth opened in a silent scream, her hands grabbed the sheets as if they would tear them. "OH FUCK ." You returned her hand with the vibrator to the right place and pounding at her at a fast pace. “Do you like my cock baby? Mmm? Is this what you wanted all this time? So that I could fuck you like the whore?” Your dirty words turned her on even more. "Yes! Yes! Y/N can...can I cum?” She was ready to cry from overstimulation and you took pity on her. You leaned down to leave a kiss behind her ear and whispered. “Cum for me baby.”

Almost immediately, the woman fell over the edge, screaming your name mixed with curses into the softness of the mattress. You continued to fuck her through her orgasm until a small whine was heard from her. You pulled out and took off the strap, throwing it somewhere deep in the room, thinking that you would take care of it later.

Your arms grabbed Elizabeth and you helped her climb onto the bed, lying on her back. Her knees were red from standing on them for a long time and you gently rubbed the skin in the hope of relieving the pain. "My good girl, Lizzie." The lips began to pass everywhere you could reach, starting from the neck and ending with her cute tummy that you loved so much. When you looked up at her again, you noticed that the woman had begun to fall asleep.

“Baby, don’t sleep, you need to take off your makeup.” A hand covered her cheek and the pad of her thumb gently rubbed her cheekbone. “Mmmmm but I’m so tired, it can wait a couple of hours.” She mumbled sleepily. You gave in and covered her naked body with a plush blanket, setting the alarm for 3 hours. When the light in the room went out, Elizabeth had already fallen asleep and hugged you, breathing steadily into your neck.

Your fingers played with her blonde hair until you fell into the realm of Morpheus after her.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff imagine #wandanat #wandanat x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda x you #natasha x reader #wanda x reader #wanda marvel #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader

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qierxing · 11 months

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A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. This is one of the longest fics I’ve written…..carried by my love for Heartslabyul. Been chipping away at this every so often until now. I would strongly recommend reading Shiny’s part first, or else a good part of this will not make sense. Part two will be something that will be floating in the future.

TW/CW: Graphic descriptions of PTSD & panic attack symptoms, self-harm from bad coping habits, dissociation, dismemberment, references to Alice in Wonderland, made up lore LOL

I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader

"So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality…"

– Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll

i. Cremation

Ramshackle's mailbox is a pitiful thing.

It sits right in front of the small graveyard near forgotten covered in tangled vines and weeds. Unlike its surroundings which shine from recent renovations and repairs, the hinges still squeak loudly when the latch is opened and the outer parts are scratched and dented. On bright sunny days, it sticks out like a sore thumb.

And today, it's even more obvious.

The box now is in danger of tilting off its support pole, filled with the weight of lumpy letters, spilling out envelopes upon the dirt. Around it sits various colorful wrapped boxes and packages that are piled haphazardly across each other. You swear it gets larger each passing day.

“How many does this make?”

A battered top hat pops into existence next to you, one of the resident Ramshackle ghosts who's been helping you around lately. (He had said you remind him of his siblings when he was alive. You're still unsure whether that was a good or bad thing.)

You let out a sigh through your nose. There's nothing to say about the situation in front of you. You wish they could disappear the minute you wish for it, yet the colorful wrappings and the various envelopes scattered around your feet don’t vanish the more you stare.

“I’m really sorry about all this.”

The ghost shakes his head, frowning at your apology.

“It’s not your fault, prefect.”

The words are reassuring, but they don’t make the gross feeling go away when you crouch down and start picking up letters that have fallen out of the mailbox.

From: Azul Ashengrotto

Sender: Vil Schoenheit

Sent by: Riddle Rosehearts

All of them are addressed to you, of course. You can already imagine their contents: filled to the brim with regret and guilt, blotted words begging for forgiveness for the wrongs they’ve done. When you told the Headmaster that you didn’t want anyone visiting Ramshackle, that wasn’t an invitation for them to flood you with unwanted mail. Then again, perhaps you should have foreseen that they would do this. All of them are stubborn to a fault. It wasn't like your phone was any better until you’ve blocked all numbers making it go off endlessly like a shrieking parrot.

The resulting letters alone are thick enough to rival the textbooks Professor Trein assigns students. Pressing your lips together, you turn around to start heading back to your temporary home.The rest of the bulky packages can wait. The ghost helps swing the door open and Grim perks up from his seat in the living room as you set down the letters.

“Grim, can you get a fire going?”

“Now?”

He eyes the thick pile of letters with wary slit pupils and asks, “Aren’t ya…gonna read ‘em?”

You did. For the first few ones, at least. They were barely discernible, their apologies blurring by as they begged for your grace and mercy. That they would do anything to right their wrongs. If you didn’t know any better, you would say their reverence was akin to a cult.

It makes your skin crawl.

After that, you stopped bothering to even skim through. What is the point of continuing to make sense of lunatics? Of cruel games and intrepid players?

"We have the wood, and the house is a bit chilly, so why not?" You reply. Grim scrunches his eyebrows but doesn't object as heavy wooden logs are dumped into the grate. He takes a deep breath and blows upon the letters scattered on the wood, encasing everything in familiar neon blue flames.

You settle into the armchair next to Grim, staring into flickering blue flames. Grim curls up next to you, purring contentedly. All too easily, your eyes lull close to the sound of crackling flames consuming paper.

–

When you step out onto the front porch the next morning, you're overtaken by an overwhelming fragrance.

There's crimson red petals floating through the air. Fluttering in the crisp morning wind, they fall in your hair and the rest end up crushed under your feet. You'd feel bad if it wasn't so pungent; the very air feels like it's infused with the scent of roses.

Your nose crinkles as you pick up the impossibly huge bouquet that is wrapped in silk and ribbons. It's certainly beautiful, you'll give it that. Yet this scent doesn't bring back good memories. It only brings vivid flashbacks of being lost among rose bushes, covered in dirt and scratches, trying so frantically to find a way out. When every single crack and snap was a possible life threat.

You don't realize you're crushing the bouquet until something trickles down your fingers. It doesn't feel like blood pooling between your skin. Relaxing your grip ever so slightly, you find pin sharp thorns running down the stems where you were gripping. The fleshy meat of your palm is punctured cleanly in the shapes of the thorns. Was it left unclipped on purpose?

The card is the next thing you find with bloodied fingers, rumpling white cardstock and soiling it without a care.

To our beloved player,

We deeply apologize for the pain we have caused you and beg for your forgiveness. We will make sure to atone for our sins of harming you.

The initial and the bouquet is too obvious of who it's from. Riddle must've penned it, because none of the card soldiers would ever write this formally. But it must've been Cater's idea to send the bouquet–Trey nor Riddle would've come up with such a sentimental and sappy idea. And Ace and Deuce would rather die than do such a cringey thing.

The door opens again behind you. You turn to see a half-awake Grim groggily yawning. He stops once his blue eyes land on the bouquet in your hands.

"Whazz that?" He points a paw at the rumpled roses, and you hastily shove them behind your back.

"Nothing." You say.

Grim makes a face before finally breaking the awkward silence with, "Do ya want me to go tell 'em off–"

"No."

The answer is rushed and makes Grim's eyes widen. It's crazy, you know. But to have Grim try to solve the problem for you doesn't sit well with you. It's not like it's his fault for what you went through.

And maybe, deep down, you couldn't bear the thought of telling them nasty insults and curses to make them hate you more.

"I'll take care of it." You add, trying to reassure Grim, who only stares impassively. He shakes his head.

"Am I making another fire?"

"...if you can, please."

ii. The Morgue

It’s been a couple of weeks since you’ve been brought to Twisted Wonderland.

Yuu’s…body has been moved to another room. It freaks you out more than you would like to admit. It’s familiar, yet it’s not. It’s carved to your image, but with none of your personality. There’s something wrong with the way its eyes are tilted, the dip of its cheeks, the curve of the chin. An idealistic, dreamy mirror of yourself.

Still. You’ve seen many dolls in your lifetime, and even you cannot deny the life like artisanship. The seams of the joints are cleverly hidden and the skin is smooth and unfettered without any misshapen resin(or clay?)–these are marks of a true doll-maker.

“It’s your vessel.” Grim had said with a matter of fact tone. As if you weren't looking at an unmoving human body. “Everyone was freakin’ out cuz’ it just shut down outta nowhere.”

It must’ve been because you were brought here at that moment. The hypothesis doesn’t really make you feel any better. You should know better than to blame an inanimate shell of a vessel, but...

You jerk awake, cold sweat running down your neck and face. It takes a second for you to realize you're not being encased in burning scarlet flames and it's not claustrophobic verdant green hedges surrounding you. The bed sheets are tangled, wrapped in a chokehold around your legs and torso. Instead of translucent leaves, the bed canopy curtain shields you from the moonlight pouring in. The soft snores of Grim sync with your ragged breaths in time.

Tonight's nightmare had been recurring for a while. Every single time you thought you had shaken it off, it comes back like a bad omen.

Instinctively, your hand runs over the bumpy raise of scars running down your back and neck. Most of them had faded with magical treatment and time, but there are some that still have rough skin that has hardened like scales on a dragon.

Your fingertips curve inward and dig.

You thought you were safe. The rose maze is large and encompassing: hiding would be the best move. You breath in–

– and you were face to face with the Crimson Tyrant himself.

His face contains no humanity, his eyes only reflect dark, dark anger and resentment. You thought you were staring into a never ending abyss. Something inky black catches your eye, and you realize with horror that blot is trapping your feet and leaving stains upon your skin.

"Stop right there, imposter!"

Your nails scrabble at the bumps and raises, tearing through them with obsessive speed. Faster, faster–it doesn't feel right, you have to scrub your skin clean of those foreign textures.

Adrenaline is the only thing keeping your legs from collapsing to the blot climbing its way up. You have to do something–

–something wraps around your neck and torso, and all air leaves you as it squeezes and knife sharp needles gnaw into bone.

Your breathing grows more hoarse as your nails scratch faster and faster, desperate to remove more of those vile clumps of impurities.

"You will suffer as Yuu did." The verdict is declared with deranged gleeful vengeance. The tyrant points his scepter at your fallen body covered in thorny vines reminiscent of roses. Blot swallows your form and screams whole–

It's only when the familiar smell of iron registers in your mind, that you finally snap back to your senses. When you finally draw your hand back to view, it's covered in clotted blood and torn skin, both dead and fresh, all clogged under your nails. The open cold air now makes your neck and back sting sharply as blood trickles out of reopened wounds.

It's with a heavy heart that you quietly leave the bedroom entirely to wash away the blood in the kitchen sink. Crimson dyes the white ceramic for a brief moment before swirling away down the drain.

The wounds sting and ache, but you can barely be bothered to tend to them as you resign yourself to the living room couch with a thin blanket. You think of Grim sleeping unaware upstairs and close your eyes. The old weathered grandfather clock in the corner ticks on and on with each second.

No, you can't blame a puppet for functioning for its purpose.

But you could tear its limbs out of its sockets so it could never walk anywhere again. If you plucked out its fingers and eyes, it wouldn't be able to find its way around anymore. Sewing the mouth shut would seal the deal.

Then it would truly know how it felt to have no choice.

–

Working as Sam's assistant helps take the mind off things. Crowley had begged you to resume classes as Grim's 'beast tamer', but something in you screamed at the thought of having to shed your feelings aside to return to what normalcy was. As if this world didn't run on the giant malicious cogwheels of fate and lines of code.

How painfully obvious it is that your mere presence is just a substitute.

"Ah!"

You look up from sorting products on the shelves to a surprised looking Riddle Rosehearts. No no no no–

You take in his sunken gray eyes and pale skin, before going back to shelving products. It takes strength to play dumb. Your shaking hands betray the fear growing within as they sort through stationary merchandise. Finally, the products are lined up neatly and you're trying to bustle away as quickly as you can–

"W-wait!" You try to ignore the half whispered plea, moving behind the counter with an unnatural speed.

"Please, wait, I need something!" You do stop, because unfortunately, you can't completely ignore a customer in need. So you take a deep breath and grit your teeth, turning around with a polite smile. Stare straight ahead. Think not of smoldering flames and knife like rose thorns–

"What can I help you with?" He stares into your eyes, frantic and desperate. It's clear with the way his mouth opens and closes that he wasn't sure how to continue his case.

"If you aren't sure, take your time to browse, dear customer." The grin was starting to wear on your cheeks already with how much you struggle to keep it in place.

Please just leave, you internally beg. You settle behind the counter, watching as Riddle bows his head and disappears among the shelves for his items. A tired sigh leaves your nose.

Your hands keep shaking no matter how hard you clench and unclench them.

He can't hurt me here.

Sam is just a yell away and there's mace and a knife in your bag underneath the counter.

It'll be fine. It's not the Tyrant.

A clink of glass catches your attention, as some ink bottles are pushed on the counter.

"I've finished." Riddle's smoldering eyes choke you under their hues.

"I'll ring that up, then."

The exchange happens quietly yet as you hand him the bottles, he pauses, looking down. "What happened to your hand?"

Shit. There were still obvious swollen scratches and puncture holes imprinted on your hand. You completely forgot about bandages after Grim caught you with the bouquet the other day. You quickly hide your hand in your pocket. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He seems to want to say more, but is cut off when someone else comes up behind him, waiting to pay for their items. He only swallows hard and nods, setting out with only a guilty look back.

You finally breathe out a long sigh of relief when the door chimes echo behind him.

"That'll be ten thaumarks and thirty madols."

This is the fifth time Riddle's shown up during your shift and bought ink. This time, it's a deep crimson color not unlike the shade that saturates his dorm. It reminds you of torn skin on nails from that night, and it takes a minute to shake those thoughts off as you pick up the bottles.

"Prefect, could I talk to you after your shift ends?" You turn to fix him with an incredulous stare, and he grimaces.

"I promise I won't harm you! Did you not get our letters?" But how can I trust you? On this cracked chessboard you are forced to play upon, you don't know where to place Riddle at all. He is too much of an unstable bomb that could blow up in your face at the wrong impression.

"Fine." He definitely won't back down until you agree to hear him out, and it's best to let him state his case once and for all. "My shift ends in an hour. I'll meet you outside."

"Excellent. I shall wait for you then, prefect." He takes his bag and leaves with a small bow.

The time passes all too quickly. Sam shoos you out before you can try to coax some overtime hours from him. And much to your annoyance, Riddle is waiting for you promptly as you step outside.

He looks nervous as he bows his head in acknowledgement of your presence. You'd almost feel bad, if it weren't for the fact that he nearly beheaded you at first sight.

"Have you received our recent letter and flowers?" A long silence follows, before you reluctantly nod. Your hand throbs as you open and close it out of habit. You just removed the bandages this morning, but the unbearable itch to reopen the scars is too tempting. Steel eyes are immediately drawn to the movement. "I see. Then I won't drag this out. Prefect, could we prove to you our sincerity to make amends?"

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly as I said. Please let our dorm express to you our sincerity to mend our relationship." The intensity of his eyes makes you sick to your stomach.

"You've apologized enough, Housewarden Rosehearts. I'm sure your card soldiers have too." Subconsciously, your hand drifts toward your neck.

He winces. No doubt it must be a sting to his pride that his numerous penned letters weren't acknowledged. "It's not just about apologies. We want to start over–turn over a new leaf, if you will, for our relationship. It would be a disgrace to the Queen of Hearts herself if I could not atone for what I've done."

Always with the rules. You're not entirely sure what Riddle means when he says 'mending your relationship', but it seems he's already set his mind to it. It would be hard pressing to get him to change his mind now.

"...sure." You reluctantly acquiesce. The tips of your nails brush against scarred skin before drawing back. You shouldn't. It took so long for the wounds to close again, for sinew to piece itself together, and for skin to finally grow back. You don't want another lecture by Crewel or Trein.

He brightens considerably with a look of relief. "Good. Then, please wait for our call."

You watch in confusion as he trots off hurriedly after another deep bow. Wait for our call? What does that–

Something buzzes, and you realize it's your phone, lighting up with a notification from Magicam. You frown, tapping on the icon. A message?

cay4cay sent a message request

The second you processed the username and profile picture, you instantly hit the block button. With a frustrated scowl, you shove the phone into your pocket. You deleted Yuu's account and only had a burner account for info purposes. How the hell did that social butterfly find your handle?

You groan. This is all too much.

iii. Paying Respects

A letter arrives, but not by mail.

A jarring commotion rudely rips you from sleep's embrace. You groggily sit up, blinking once, twice, before realizing the noises were very much real and still happening. Who is this loud on a Sunday morning? Grim continues to snooze right next to you, unperturbed by the disturbances. You debate whether it's worth it to get out of the comfy covers. Then another yell echoes up to the room and you groan in annoyance.

You slam the entrance doors open, ready to give the lecture of a lifetime before you stop in your tracks.

Deuce Spade looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up whole. Even Ace Trappola, haughty asshole that he is, looks thoroughly ashamed to be caught in a compromising pose. The scene is so familiar that you can't seem to be confused. It takes a second of awkward staring from all three of you before you realize that you're still standing in your thin pajamas, out front in the public entryway in the cold.

"...May I help you?" The distant polite inquiry has them both flinching. They scramble to their feet, brushing off dirt and debris from their fist fight.

"We're very sorry!" Deuce bows deeply, while Ace scoffs and looks away.

"Housewarden Riddle told us to give you this, so…" Ace shoves a white envelope with a seal boasting a crown insignia into your hands. The Queen of Hearts. You exhale through your nose. So this is what Riddle meant earlier.

You open the envelope gingerly, carefully inspecting it as if it were some kind of trap.

"We're going to have a party soon." Ace is still determinedly avoiding your eyes. "You can come…if you want."

You hold back a sardonic chuckle. Even after everything that's happened, he's trying to act like some kind of cool, suave guy. Your eyes drop down again and you open up the flap to reveal the elegant crimson cursive that decorates the paper.

You're cordially invited to Heartslabyul's monthly tea party. Please send your response ASAP.

Date: XX/05

Time: 14:00 - 17:00

A silence lingers in the air, heavy as a rock. You can tell without looking that the two were holding bated breaths waiting for your reply.

This certainly was out of the blue. But. It was Ace and Deuce. Riddle may have issued the order, but they must've taken initiative in delivering her majesty's decree. Stubborn and tenacious, yet they were still endearing with their loyal friendship. Who in this world would run across a whole desert for you?

That wasn't for you though. The intrusive thought immediately makes your lips thin. The card soldiers shift at the subtle expression change, nervousness painted all over their faces.

You would be lying if you said you weren't curious. Why an invitation to a tea party? It was rather unlike Heartslabyul–or at least most of them–to be indirect like this.

"Sure. I'll be there. I can bring Grim, right?" You flip over the card and envelope, raising an eyebrow at their stunned faces.

"Wait, you serious?" Ace stutters. His ruby eyes blink rapidly as his mouth gapes open. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting you to actually say yes.

"Why would I waste my time lying to you?" You sigh, crossing your arms. Granted, you never did send any response back to that ostentatious bouquet, but you were already preoccupied with the hundred of other letters and packages flooding your mailbox.

"In that case, of course Grim can come!" Deuce says, looking like he's been released from an entire burden off his chest. It was no doubt plaguing him on what your answer would be.

"Great." You wave a careless hand, turning to close the door. You're so ready to go back under soft bed covers. "You can give my answer to your housewarden. See you then."

A hand grabs at your arm and tugs you back suddenly. You turn and open your mouth–

"You! You're the one that caused Yuu to shut down!!"

Wind blasts past you, leaving a thin trickle of blood down your cheek. Eyes wide, all you can do is stare at furious crimson eyes glaring you down.

"-Hey!"

Those eyes. It's the same bloody crimson. The same sharp glint of raw bloodlust. Your right cheek aches terribly. Cold sweat runs down your back. Try as you might, you cannot suppress the reactive instinct to flee.

"Don't touch me." Your terse response has Ace retracting his own hand immediately.

"S-sorry, sorry–" He’s scrambling to get past his mistake. If you were in a better state of mind, you would've laughed at his genuinely flustered state. "I–I didn't mean to grab you like that, it’s just that–"

"We also have something else.” Deuce cuts in, trying to cover for Ace’s blunder. He shoves something warm under your nose, and it takes a hot minute to process what you’re smelling.

Lavender. The cookies within his hands are simple and aren’t decorated, but the buttery floral aroma they emit leaves you salivating. You slowly take it from his hands, staring at the carefully packaged bag.

“...From Trey,” Deuce offers hesitantly after seeing your surprised expression. His tight expression and stiff posture betrays the way he is attempting to look respectable. “He's wanted to send you something for a while now.”

For a while? His dorm mates were all clambering to get any crumb of response from you. He might've had the manners then to understand that you wouldn't be delighted to hear from someone who only watched from the sidelines as you were being attacked. Did he only wait because his beloved housewarden didn't move yet? How typical.

“Tell him thanks for me.” The two of them shuffle their feet while exchanging glances at your freezing cold tone.

"Don't mind us, prefect." Deuce elbows Ace, causing the red head to click his tongue and glare back. "Sorry for bothering you like this–we'll get going now!"

The two actually leave without more fuss, leaving you to twirl the invitation in trepidation.

When you look down again, the flowy calligraphy has been smudged by your fingers, ink blooming on your skin like blood.

–

"What does one wear to a tea party, Sam?"

The question slips out before you know it, making the store keeper turn around and raise an eyebrow at you.

"And why is our little imp curious?" He teases. At your unamused face, his face splits into a garish grin.

"Perhaps you should ask Professor Crewel. After all, he does have quite the fashion sense." Sam strokes his chin in thought. "While we do have some outfits here, it might be best to get advice from someone who has been to these kinds of events."

And so, you find yourself standing in front of an indifferent Divus Crewel, who takes one look at you and takes another drag from his fashionable cigarette holder. He continues to shuffle through papers, all the while shaking his head.

“I should’ve known Sam would be the one to send you.” His voice sounds annoyed, yet carries no weight of anger. Much like how his bark is worse than his bite, Crewel isn’t one to heartlessly turn you away. “A tea party, you said?”

“Sam recommended that I go to you since you have more experience in this sort of thing.” Crewel does another critical once over of you, no doubt estimating your measurements for the look he’s thinking of. As expected of a former Pomefiore housewarden. He seems to already have an idea of what outfit would be best.

“I’ll help you, but you’re running some errands for me first, pup.”

You shouldn’t have expected anything less from the alchemy professor. Now you’re stuck picking out ingredients in the botanical garden while you’re waiting for him to get the materials together for your outfit.

Of all the botanical zones, it just had to be the tropical zone. The harsh artificial lights shine down as you lean down to pick herbs. While the temperature is bearable, you don't know how much more sweat your outfit can take before it gets soaked completely. The humidity is choking, and you feel dizzy from both the moisture and heat clouding your senses.

“Prefect?”

You look up wearily from basil plants to see Cater Diamond in his labwear, with a face that mirrors your stunned expression.

Give me a break. Immediately, your awkward customer service smile falls in place. First her Majesty, then Tweedle Dee and Dum, and now the March Hare? But Cater knows how to read the room. Maybe he'll know to let it go–

Your hopes are dashed as he immediately bounces up to you with a grin. “Didn't think I'd run into ya like this. Whatcha doing here?”

“Er, Crewel wanted my help with getting him ingredients…” This conversation was quickly swerving into awkward territory. “Why are you here?”

“Ah, you know…” Cater chuckles sheepishly, “I got assigned to water the plants…”

You take notice of the steel watering can in his gloved hands, then the long green hose by his boots. “Ah.”

“Guess that means we’ll be working together!” He chirps cheerfully and you cringe. Seven, anything but that! You quickly turn back to your basket and begin to pick up the pace in harvesting the basil. The quicker you finish, the faster you can get out of this deathly awkward situation.

“By the way, Acey and Deucey wouldn’t stop chatting about you accepting our invitation!” You flinch as Cater idles up next to you, using the hose to spray a generous amount of water over the patch of herbs. “It was pretty cute to see, y’know.”

“R-really?”

"Trey was also glad too. He and Riddle have been planning to make it the best tea party ever," he mock emphasizes. "They've been running the dorm ragged over the party deets. Cay Cay's been so busy with planning stuff!"

"That's not really necessary…" A feeling of guilt worms into your guts for a moment. You squash it. What Riddle and the others do is none of your business and no obligation of yours.

"Right? That's what I said too!" Is he implying that you're the reason there's more work than usual? How shameless is he?

After a good minute of dead silence, Cater pipes up again.

"Sooo, prefect, whatcha been up to lately?"

You can't take it anymore.

“Why are you talking like I have a gun to your head?”

Ever since he made his presence known, he's adopted a high pitched cheery tone that grates on your ears. It was akin to a customer service voice, but you know Cater. That's his influencer speak.

Cater's chipper smile vanishes instantly.

"Whaaaat?!" You catch a glimpse of his snaggle tooth in his exclamation. He quickly turns and moves to water a patch of sprouts further away, "Like, what are you even talking about? You know ol' Cay Cay's just trying to lighten the mood!"

More like he's desperately trying to appeal to you. He knows which attitude will get him the most views, and the best expressions to rake in likes and comments. You often thought that trait was endearing in its own way when you saw him as a fictional character. Now that you're dealing with him as a human being, it just pisses you off to no end. How could he? You know Cater isn't known for his genuineness but….you thought he would at least act his usual aloof casual self. Then you would know that it wouldn't matter if you offended him.

The straw basket is finally filled with everything Crewel asked you for. It's with dirtied skin and sore muscles that you turn towards the exit without sparing Cater a glance.

"If you say so, Diamond." You hurl the words like a molotov cocktail, and it's very effective. Cater's eyebrows twitch and his hands clench around the watering can. It's one thing to call him by his last name, it's another to completely blow off the nickname he blatantly shoves onto you. "See you later at the party."

“Wait, wait, time out for a second!! Can you at least unblock me on Magicam?” The last sentence makes you freeze in your tracks.

When you turn around, Cater’s somehow still smiling that insincere smile of his. Your neck prickles with dread.

You trust me now, right? His crinkled lime green eyes gleam.

You're not fooled. He is desperate to appeal to you not from genuine adoration, but rather guilty obligation. Although he tried to scrub it from his Magicam profile, you saw the blurry reels and pictures of you fleeing for your life. The detailed descriptions underneath. Each one boasting deliberate timestamps meant for best exposure. He put a bounty on your head with his own hands.

Two can play at that game.

"Block you? I don't have a Magicam account," is your dry response. Cater continues to smile as his eyes close.

"Really? I swear that it was you…" His lips jut out in an insincere pout, tilting his head. You shrug apathetically, hoping the conversation runs itself dead.

"Well, if you do make one, hit me up okay?" Cater calls out after your retreating back.

Once you're in the school corridors and catching your breath, you dig your phone out with shaky hands and pull up Magicam.

Hitting delete account has never felt more relieving.

–

The outfit, in your quiet opinion, was not worth the mental gymnastics you had to do in the botanical garden. Not that you were going to say anything to the very teacher who has been known to treat his students like barking dogs.

"It should fit just fine," Crewel smooths out the crinkles in the fabric before handing it to you. "Go on now. Try it on."

A simple white with a red ribbon bow tie and black slacks. It was rather simple, which is just fine. You didn't need or want to stand out in this party. But you certainly didn't want to end up looking like a slob either. This suit your needs quite nicely.

Smoothing down your shirt, you give a spin as Crewel looks on unimpressed. He waves you off with a dry "Don't expect me to do any more favors for you, pup." You mischievously grin and wave him goodbye as you trot off with your clothes in tow.

The last rays of the sun sets the hallway ablaze with orange and yellow hues. You hum as you take the familiar pathway back to Ramshackle. With everything crazy that’s been going on lately, it gets too easy to be swept up in the moment. As you watch the shadows flicker between the stone pillars, you slow down to observe the scenery for a bit.

The sunset catches a glint and reflects bright white for a moment. You blink and it’s gone when you focus. You stop, confused at the intrusion.

A loud click echoes behind you, but when you whip around, there’s nothing but the empty hallways.

You stand for a moment in place, waiting and listening apprehensively. Nothing else happens, and it’s with cautious paranoia that you turn around and start speed walking.

iiii. Funeral

It would be impolite to show up to a party without something.

But now as you're standing before the mirror leading to Heartslabyul, you're having second thoughts.

What if it isn't good? You glance down at your box containing the simple custard puddings you were able to make just last night. You didn't really have the skills to make complicated sweets and the puddings only took three ingredients. And your outfit, what if it isn't up to the Queen of Hearts' rules–

"C'mon, [First]! Or else the food will be gone by the time we get there!"

You breathe out a giggle. "I don't think anyone can beat you on your eating speed, Grim."

"You don't know that!" He hops up and down impatiently, waiting for you to adjust the box in your hands.

Right, who cares about any of that?

You follow your companion through the warped glass.

The fresh spring breeze graces you first, then the refreshing scent of flora, and finally, the warmth of the sun on your skin. When you open your eyes, the stretch of viridian green pastures and vibrant flowers greets you. The land of Heartslabyul is as picturesque as you remembered on screen. It feels unreal.

And waiting for you at the end of the path is the very first dorm you've befriended.

"Weird. Where's everyone at?" Grim grumbles, ears twitching in irritation.

The entrance is completely devoid of any human presence. You don’t sense anyone in the building either, which is completely strange.

Grim's right. Where is everyone? For an incoming tea party, wouldn’t there be various students rushing in and out for the preparations?

“Perhaps they’re in the maze?” You glance warily over to the tall hedges that bloom with beautiful roses. “Should we wait?”

“Ugh, that’s so rude of ‘em to keep us hangin’ though! I say we go lookin’ for them. Who knows how long we gotta stand out here!” Grim shakes his head, distraught at the thought of having to wait for his food. "Let's go to the kitchen!"

"You just want to see if you can eat something." You tut at Grim's scheming face.

"Mya, so what?!" He yowls. "I'm going and you can't stop me!"

"Grim, wait–" You call anxiously, but your companion is already scampering off into the dorm. You're left with no choice but to take a deep steadying breath and press on.

But the kitchen room is also empty when the two of you pop in. However, it seems like it was used recently, if not for the smell, then the sight of various dishes laid out on the counter would have clued you in. You sneakily compare your puddings to the spread laid out before you and wonder again if it isn't too late to put them away in a dark corner.

"What do you have there, prefect?" A low voice breathes in your ear.

You and Grim shriek in tandem, with you almost fumbling and dropping your box and Grim’s signature sharp nails digging into your shins.

The looming presence behind you is revealed to be Trey Clover, who has an apologetic face after spooking the two of you. At least he is conscientious.

"My bad, my bad," he chuckles, "I should've been more obvious about my arrival." He places a steady hovering hand behind your back. Just barely touching, yet close enough to feel its heat. Embarrassingly, the feeling is soothing enough that you can't find it in yourself to pull away.

"Sheesh, for real! You took some of my life with that, y'know Trey!" Grim hisses, detaching his claws from your poor legs. Trey only laughs and ruffles his head.

"I’m sorry about that Grim. Anyway, you guys came just in time," Trey begins to transfer the dishes onto a wheeled cart. "Food just needs to be carried out and the tea party can begin—but you have something, don't you?"

Regret seeps in when you think of your sad puddings next to all these gorgeous pastries and appetizers.

“Uhm, I don’t think it’s really needed since you got all this,” you laugh sheepishly as your hands automatically hide the box behind your back.

“No way.” Trey’s smile is warm but firm. When he gently guides your hands to give up the box, you can’t find it in yourself to protest. “It can’t be that bad, since you made it.”

You're struck silent, and Trey immediately takes advantage of your state to press his hand to your back to usher you forward. His fingertips graze your side, and for a second, you swear his lips quirk into a smirk.

You follow alongside Trey as he pushes the cart out through the door.

"By the way, I'm happy to hear you liked the lavender cookies." You look over to see the baker smile warmly. "I would've tried something with the candied violets I had, but I ran out just as I was making them." He sighs as he shakes his head.

Something with the way he's worded it makes it sound like there was more to the story, but you don't care enough to pry further. Trey's golden orbs slide to meet yours discreetly, and you realize he's waiting for you to respond. You murmur an apathetic response back, and he visibly droops.

It's a long, quiet walk through the rose maze.

It seems your arrival with Trey threw everyone off guard. You don't know why they look so alarmed: the venue looks absolutely resplendent. Colorful lanterns dot the tree lines, swinging back and forth cheerily with brightly colored flags. The long table is draped with fine cloth embroidered with intricate lace patterns. There's not a single wrinkle to be seen in the fabric. And the rose bushes, blooming with both red and white roses, are pruned cleanly, not a leaf or branch out of place.

It is a tea party fit for the Queen of Hearts.

"And the guest of honor is finally here!" Easygoing as ever, Cater calls out jauntily to you both. He seems to be the only one not visibly panicking. "Trey, what took ya so long?"

"Had to get the dishes here, you know." He shoots a knowing glare at Cater, who flinches with a sheepish smile. "Someone was supposed to help me, which would've made it a lot faster."

Ah. Cater giggles nervously while twirling his hair. Ace and Deuce exchange disbelieving looks before shaking their heads.

“Welcome, prefect.” Riddle greets you with a stiff bow. "And Grim." He hastily adds, seeing your companion’s face twist sulkily. The action makes you smile, if only for a moment.

“We’ve been waiting forever for you, Yuu—” Deuce jabs an elbow sharply into Ace’s side, making him cough and sputter mid sentence, but the damage has already been done. Another awkward silence reigns as everyone’s fearful faces are directed at you, trying to figure out how to best traverse the conversational minefield.

“W-What Acey meant to say is–” Cater is cut off immediately.

"Uh, er, come to think of it, what's your actual name?" Deuce is the one who pushes forward despite everyone else’s horrified looks. As if he had uttered a profane exclamation.

"My…name?" You echo back.

Right. Since all they knew was the puppet, they didn't know your true name. Heavy silence hovers in the air, even Grim was looking at you in anticipation.

"My name is…" Something chokes your throat. Reluctance? Or fear?

"[First]. [First] [Last]."

They mutter it among themselves, tasting the syllables and weaving the rhythms of the letters. How strange. With sugar coated lips, their voices ring like church bells for prayer. You're born anew, for the way they look at you is enough to make your heart soar for several fleeting seconds.

For a brief moment, you could believe that you were with your Heartslabyul again.

The tea party begins like a baby animal: slow, unsure, and always in danger of stumbling to the ground. But it’s Heartslabyul, and who else would know how to best host a party for its guests?

By the time the tea is being poured into your cups, a steady conversation has started naturally flowing between all of you.

“Is there something the matter?” Riddle asks for the nth time as he worriedly gazes at the way your eyes stray to the hedges and whimsical decorations beyond the table.

"Oh uhm…” You hesitate, still not meeting Riddle’s worried face. “Why are the roses both red and white? I thought one of your rules is that tea parties always have white roses."

Riddle exchanges a look with Trey at your question.

"That is true, [First], however…" He pauses, before continuing with a determined look. "Red and white roses are customary for parties celebrating with new friends."

“New…friends?” Your hand is frozen at your teacup.

Something fiercely warm fills your chest. There's cautious hope glimmering in Riddle and Trey's eyes. That wasn’t fair. How could they say something like that and not expect you to react?

The party ends on a light note unlike its stiff beginning. The soldiers gather to see you and Grim off, but once Grim scampers off with his leftovers in paw, her Majesty moves to your side.

“Prefect–no, [First], would you come again?” He asks. His hands are trembling, tugging at your sleeve timidly like a young child again. “F-For an Unbirthday party, of course!”

It’s a request that’s not selfish, you note. Her Majesty’s card soldiers look on expectantly behind their monarch, and it takes everything within you to not collapse.

“Of course. I can’t wait for it already.”

Your heart weighs heavy. They do not know that the promise is an empty white lie. Though you cherish them, you do not wish to act the role of a doll whose purpose is to play house.

When they looked at you with those pleading eyes, who did they see?

Yuu, the puppet they adored for its safe default responses and supportive words?

Or you, the player who has their own flaws and biased personality?

It's okay, you reason.

They won't be able to tell the difference between clay and flesh.

v. Burial

You have a hunch about Yuu.

Only a guess based on many hypotheticals, but better than nothing.

If the puppet stopped working when you arrived, then shouldn't it go without saying that if you left this world, that it would return back to life?

The wooden door creaks open, stirring up dust and sending it flying into the air. You cough and sneeze, waving your hand to disperse the irritant. Serves you right. After all, you refused to step into this room since Yuu's body was hauled here. Didn't even dare to come clean the room. The dust settles and you can finally make out the puppet's silhouette from the waning light rays of the window.

It still adorns its proper NRC uniform, wrinkled in the spots where you had lifted it. It hasn't moved at all from its sprawled pose on the sofa. You remember the dread at realizing the only fitting school uniform you could possibly wear was on this puppet. It only cemented your resolve to break away from the puppet's image. Even if you had to resort to clearing out ancient closets and haggling with faculty, you'd rather take the raggedy shawls and worn flannel over the crisp blazer and button up the puppet wore.

Its skin has become ashen gray, drained of any life. Old joints creaked in agony when you adjusted it to a sitting position for better examination. For a while, the both of you stare at each other.

Despair tugs at your mind. How long will you be trapped in this world? Has the Headmaster even done anything to help you get home? You snort. He couldn’t even bother doing anything when it was just the vessel. Why would that change now?

Can you hear me?

The voice, so quiet yet clear, makes you whip your head around. No one's in the room. Are you finally going crazy?

You can hear me, right?

Is one of the ghosts playing a prank on you? You can't pinpoint the source of the voice at all.

I'm here–look!

With dread and fear pooling in your heart, your head turns slowly to meet the doll's eyes; whose pupils are now fixated on you.

The urge to scream and push away the doll is overwhelming. But in a world where the supernatural is natural, you suppose that dolls that can speak are the least impossible thing out there.

I can help you find your way home.

You swallow thickly. Pursing your lips, your grip on its arms tightens as you lean in. Something stirs, and it’s crazy, but you swear it hums in pleasure.

Listen to what I say carefully…

Decorations? Check. Refreshments? Check.

Outfits? Check.

So why does it feel like there's something missing?

"What's wrong, Riddle?" He turns to see Trey's concerned face. He gives an awkward smile back.

"I'm not quite sure, but something feels amiss." He explains, rubbing his neck. It's obvious enough to make him feel the familiar slivers of irritation slither through him.

He tries to will it away. It's a good day, and there was nothing to be angry about. The player–no, [First]–had decided to give them a chance and agreed to come over to celebrate an Unbirthday party with them. Ace and Deuce are behaving as good, law-abiding card soldiers should be. The roses were saturated with dripping red, the dormouse had its nose smeared with jam–so what is this itch that won't go away?

"We can do a double check of everything again," Trey offers gently. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

Riddle shakes his head. “It’s almost time for them to arrive. I will not have them waiting on something that isn’t even a problem.”

“Housewarden~!” Speak of the devil. He turns with a frown at Ace’s loud shout, but it fades to a small smile when he sees you trailing after Ace.

"Hello, Riddle." You smile warmly at him, and his cheeks flush pink.

Wait. He stops. Have you ever called his name? He doesn’t have time to ponder this before he’s interrupted by Trey and Cater bringing in the food.

When everyone is seated and the party is in swing, he notices something.

“Is the food not to your liking, [First]?” He inquires as politely as possible, softening his tone to make it sound less accusatory.

You fluster, waving a hand. “Not at all. I’m just not that hungry right now.”

He decides to leave it, because it’s not as if it’s wrong, per se, if the guest wasn’t eating. He recalls Ace’s previous words to him.

“Housewarden, you really should loosen up a bit! Otherwise you’re gonna end up being a killjoy!”

He may be many things, but he is not a killjoy! Just because he was particular about certain things doesn’t mean he didn’t know how to let go.

But something feels off.

Then he realizes that while the conversation is flowing as usual, you are hardly speaking at all. You only speak when directly spoken to, and even then, it’s short, clipped responses.

He watches incredulously as you pour yourself a cup of tea and then drink it.

The golden scepter materializes in his hand as easily as breathing.

Everyone else reacts explosively, looking alarmed at the scene unfolding. Meanwhile, you merely stare blankly at the end of the scepter nearly several inches from your nose.

"Riddle, hold the phone, what are you doing?!" He barely hears Cater's frantic voice to his left. He's too focused on the way that…that thing is not reacting at all.

"You. Where is [First]?"

It's silent for a moment, and then a disturbing crooked grin breaks out from its poker face. It starts cackling loudly and it makes his blood start boiling.

"Start speaking or it's off with your head!" He screeches, scepter shaking uncontrollably in his hands.

"Boo, I was hoping you guys were stupid enough to fall for it.” The thing taunts, leaning back in their chair.

Red fills his vision. How dare this thing use your visage and breath such vile words? Before he could register it, his arm swipes across. By the time his eyes clear and his breathing steadies, he's staring at a decapitated body that is mangled beyond repair.

It takes another moment to realize he is not the only one who has raised their magical pen.

Trey is at his right, golden eyes dark as Riddle realizes he positioned himself to shield him. Cater mirrors Trey, but his arms are visibly shaking and his eyes keep switching from him to the broken body on the trimmed lawn. Ace and Deuce had positioned themselves to the backside, but they too, barely seem to be holding themselves together, clenched fists at the ready for physical blows.

“What…” he breathes, “is going on?”

The only answer he gets is the wind whistling through the grass blades.

He collapses to his knees as he fumbles with a body that has been torn asunder, but instead of flesh and bones, he only finds clay and chipped resin.

“What have we done?”

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere heartslabyul #my works #if this gets good reception i'll have a easier time of writing part 2

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sainzzsturns · 1 month

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Injured

j. bellingham x fem!volleyplayer!reader

warnings: injury

category: angst w comforting fluff

summary: reader gets hurt during one of her volley games

You played one of the most difficult positions ever, the libero.

That meant you had to give your absolute best 100% of the time, if you did anything wrong your team would immediately lose a possible point.

So obviously in game days you would be shaking with anxiety constantly, although your boyfriend, Jude, would be there to confort you.

“I get you completely, but don’t worry, you always do well, I’m sure this time won’t be any different.”

You walked in the stadium through the back to get in the locker room, you put on your uniform and knee pads and sleeves.

You hit the tip of your shoes getting comfortable in them as you stepped out onto the court starting to warm up with your teammates.

You locked eyes with Jude for a second, him giving you a reassuring smile with a thumbs up. Your two mutual friends, Vini Jr and Eduardo Camavinga there to support you as well.

The ref blew the whistle and your team started serving.

The game was going well till now, your team being ahead by 14x10 for the first set.

Suddenly a strong attack ball game from the opposite team, your teammate received it, but the impact made the ball go far from the court.

Instantly you ran after it tripping over some tables and chair which were laying in the corner of the court.

You managed to hit the ball sending it back to your team, although, when you got back up again, you closed your eyes and screamed in pain as you sat back down.

You looked at your ankle as it instantly started become red and eventually purple, it was also already a bit bigger than your other ankle.

Even though you had protection on, both your knees had also become colored and you noticed some scratches on your arm.

The referee blew her whistle when she noticed your position.

The medical team was called over and picked you up, setting you down on your team’s bench.

Three attentive boys came down from their seats to reach you.

Jude immediately grabbed your hand and rubbed your shoulders, watching closely as the medic examined your ankle.

“I’m so sorry baby, it’s going to be alright, I’m right here, just hold my hand.” He said, giving you support.

Vini combed some of your hair out of your face, wiping fallen tears every now and then.

Eventually the medic had concluded you had a dislocated ankle and a couple scratches, nothing serious, both injuries would heal soon with the correct care. He wrapped a boot around your foot as well.

Obviously you had to be benched, but even so your team managed to win.

Throughout the rest of the game you sat with your boyfriend, hugged on his side, sniffling from time to time from your past tears.

When it was time to leave your were still in a bad mood, of course you were happy with your team’s win but it still hurt not being able to play for a while, and need others’s support.

Jude handed you your crutches as you all made your way towards the exit.

Arriving home, Jude gave you a nice relaxing shower, after that, laying you down on your bed as he hugged you close, wanting to protect you from all harm.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart, if I could take all your pain away I would in a heartbeat. Well, actually, maybe not this weekend because I have a game!” He said, earning a couple giggles from you.

“That’s alright, thanks for taking care of me.” You answered.

“It’s my job! And I’ll be your care taker for a long while, so get used to it.” He added.

Tiredness took over your body as your eyelids grew heavier.

“Good night, Judey” You murmured.

“Good night, love” He answered.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #vinicius jr #eduardo camavinga #football #volleyball #real madrid

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irondad-defensesquad · 7 months

Text

edit (december 6th 2023): this has been getting a lot of notes - thank you for the love btw! - so i just wanted you to know that this idea has a full story! it's right here. thanks again!

tony is checking his notes while he works, when he hears the door opening.

"oh peter, is that you?" he says, a little relieved but also annoyed. "care to explain why you haven't replied to any of my messages-?"

when he looks behind him, though, there's nobody in the lab.

... the meow startles him.

tony finds the black cat sitting on his notebook, and doesn't appear to plan on getting off.

"seriously?" tony groans. "friday, why is the little black hole in here?"

"he is boss jr., isn't that correct?" the A.I. replies rather smugly.

the man glares at the ceiling. "very funny." then he turns to the cat. "why are you like this. i thought cats liked to be alone. but i guess you just love bugging me."

the cat doesn't reply. he dares to lie down, refusing to let tony work. before they settle on yet another glaring contest today, the older man's phone vibrates on the desk, much to the cat's curiosity. tony quickly takes it and sees he has new text messages from peter.

peter: sorry mr stark, i can't come over today

peter: i have a decathlon meeting and i can't miss it

tony audibly groans. yeah, of course. obviously.

then peter sends another one.

peter: how is tony jr? is he behaving?

tony aggressively texts back.

tony: that is not his name. and no, he's being a little menace, alright. he ruined my couch, he knocked my favorite mug over, and now he won't let me work.

peter: aww mr stark, he just wants attention!

tony: yeah, but he doesn't have to be such a little shit.

peter: stop being mean to him!!!

tony: he's being mean to me.

tony: so what, i'm gonna be stuck with him for another night?

the teen spends a while writing the next text, which becomes many of them, probably indicating he's anxious.

peter: look mr stark i'm sorry i forced you to look after him

peter: i just couldn't leave him in the cold and aunt may already has a lot in her plate

peter: but i didn't mean to make you mad either

peter: i promise i'll try to come over as soon as i can to take him to the shelter

tony's anger fades. he sighs it out.

tony: kid, it's fine. i get it. you have a good heart and i'm proud of you for that. i just wasn't ready to have a stray cat home.

tony: but this isn't your fault, okay? you did the right thing.

he almost texts more but decides not to.

peter: ok mr stark

peter: i'll try to get him to the shelter by the end of the week

tony: no pressure, kiddo.

when he thinks it's over, peter sends yet another one.

peter: hey mr stark? could you take a pic of him? i miss his little face 🥺

tony rolls his eyes and positions the starkphone in front of the cat. the little feline seems to notice it and looks back. and he tilts his head almost instantly. though tony knows it's not out of confusion - it's like he's posing for the photo.

the hero sends it to peter.

who in turn, replies with several stickers of people exploding with heart emojis.

peter: omg!!!! bby!!!! i would die for him!!!!

tony: please don't.

peter: aww he even posed!

peter: guess he rlly takes after you 😊

tony: he is still not my cat.

peter: still... just be good to him until i get back ok? he just wants some company

you don't get it, pete. i'm irresponsible and i ruin everything i touch.

tony doesn't send that.

instead, tony looks at the cat deep into his golden eyes.

his hand approaches the little void. he expects to get bitten or scratched like he has been all day. but worse...

i ruin everything i touch, and i'm going to kill another innocent creature. i'm going to kill him. i'm going to kill him.

...

the cat is snuggling against his hand, purring.

then he lets tony pet his whole body and his tail touches his fingers.

indeed... all the cat ever wanted was love and attention. the things he never had in the past.

with a relieved smile on his face, tony finally answers peter.

tony: okay.

just a simple reply. but many promises.

#irondad #tony jr. the cat #(a new tag???????? mayhaps????)#fics #my fics #drabble #(this got long lmao and it's not even the finished product)#anyway #tony stark in: the dad who didn't want the pet but adopted it anyway the saga

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rblackdeco · 2 months

Note

evan or barty comforting the reader after they hear someone talking about them??

Catharsis

— pairing: barty crouch jr x reader

— a/n: hii, thank you for the request!! you didn't specify if you wanted that platonic or romantic, so it can be read either way! also i chose barty because this is a little self indulging and i took it in a bit of an other direction, hope it's okay anyway

— warnings: inciting violence (because it's barty), reader (literally) breaks a tv (don't try this at home please), not proof read

When the bedroom door unlocks with a soft click, you don't know who you'd expect to enter, but definitely, it was not Barty. He walks over to you, eyes falling to your watery ones as he gives you a smile, only a bit softer than usual. "So, who do I need to beat?" He asks, sitting on the floor by your side without a care in the world.

"Nobody." You sniff, chuckling softly. "Good to know you're up for it though."

"Yeah, hell I am." You can tell his a bit stiffer too, he's not used to the whole thing, you think. Comforting people, being gentle with them, it was never Barty's strength. "Wanna talk about it? Or smash a tv?" You frown, his offer is tempting, but strange.

"Whose tv?" You ask, laughing softly. The sound is almost a huff, the only hint of humor in the soft curls of your lips.

"Don't worry about it." He smirks, propping himself up on his feet and holding out a hand for you, his eyes exhibiting a dangerous glint to them. "So, you wanna smash a tv? We can find the fucker's house too if you feel like breaking a window."

And yeah, maybe you do.

For Barty's credit, he did tell you you could break a tv. Still, you're a bit surprised as he walks you to his backyard and a full television stands on two bricks, looking brand new except from a few scratches on the led screen. Barty smirks at your reaction. "It's like a rage room, but I don't have a room to worry about cleaning up after." He explains, picking a bat from the floor and swirling it lazily, pretending to hit an invisible ball.

"Did you steal this?" You can't help but ask. Following after him, you can't help but notice the glass shards and wood splinters littering the floor, as well as a few bottle necks here and there.

"Of course not!" He feigns offense like the worst actor in the world. "It was on Evan's flat when he moved, but it's broken. Also, it reeks of beer, he thinks the bastard that owned it dumped a few cans on it and it broke down. He said it's not worth fixing, thus this baby sitting on my yard."

You only nod. Breaking a tv with Barty was not how you imagined your day would end, but you were not one to complain. At least you weren't crying yourself to sleep in your room.

"So, what's it gonna be, princess?" You open your mouth to ask what he's talking about, only to see him holding out the baseball bat and another brick on his hands. "Choose your weapon." You pick the baseball bat, and he handles you a pair of safety googles, to which you raise a brown. "What? I'm not an animal." As soon as you've secured the googles on your eyes, Barty lowers his own. "To who do we own the honor?"

You know what he's asking, the name has been stuck in your throat since he first asked, aching to get out like an ich you can't reach. You don't mean to feel as frustrated as you do with them, but you can't help yourself. You shout their names loudly, raising your bat in the air.

"And their little fucking shit talking friends!" Barty completes loudly, because of course he cracked it the moment he saw your state, raising a crow bar in the air, red painting chipped at both ends, you're not sure why or how he came do possess one of those, but you don't question either.

Instead, you swing your bat in the air, smashing the tv screen with a loud noise, glass shattering at your feet. Barty smiles by your side, and for a moment, you forget why you were so upset in the first place.

#marauders #marauders fic #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch jr #marauders fluff #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr blurb #marauders blurb #rblackdeco writes — ★

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charliedawn · 6 months

Note

I can't stop thinking about how the hannibals would react. If you refused to go out with them because you thought that they ask to mess/as a joke with you.

As someone how was asked out as a joke. Cuz I was the weird kid and still does not believe people when they do it for real

"You and me are going out on a date tomorrow."

Morgan doesn’t mess around. He’d have the papers ready and ask you without a moment of hesitation because he is sure you like him too. He isn’t one to ask unless he is sure it will go according to his calculations. But, he froze when you answered with a laugh.

"Ah ! Good one, Morgan. But no." You then resumed to reading your book and Morgan frowned. His first reaction would have been to take offense by your refusal or lack of acknowledgment. But, he was too stunned to speak.

"Well…That is rather disappointing." He then sat down next to you and looked at you again before scratching his chin pensively. "I thought you would at least think about it. Or maybe even give me a chance to defend my case."

You glanced back at him, but didn’t know how to answer. You finally sighed.

"What is there to defend ? I have been tricked before. I refuse to be tricked again…"

Morgan stayed silent for a moment before taking your hand and tracing circles on your skin with his thumb.

"I am not one to joke. I have an awful sense of humour. My brothers can testify."

You chuckled and Morgan smiled before intertwining your fingers together.

"…But, I make you laugh. And that miracle does deserve a chance, don’t you think ?"

You had never seen Morgan seem so hopeful before and thought about it for a second before smiling back.

"Fine. One date."

"Would you be interested in allowing me a delightful evening in your sweet company ?"

Hannibal Jr. is a gentleman through and through. He would find a moment for the both of you to be alone (without the children around) to ask you and try to be as gentle as he can, as he would know your earlier struggles with dating. He’d try to reassure you the best he can and convince you that he isn’t a man to come back on his word. (He really isn’t.)

He also made sure the date is worthy of your place in his heart and take meticulous care as to prepare the perfect meal for you. He prepared the room and took a long time to choose his best suit for the occasion. He wanted to beat all those times you hadn’t been properly invited on a date.

And when you came in a sweatshirt and pants and said that you thought he was joking…His smile slightly cracked because of how upset he was. Not at you. Of course. But the simple fact that you hadn’t thought that he was telling you the truth.

He took your hand and kissed the back of it—deliberately staring into your eyes.

"…No need to worry, love. You will believe me. Eventually. Now, come on. I have a bœuf bourguignon that just waits for your exquisite palate to taste…"

He smiled at you before leading you inside and closing the door behind you…You would believe him once you’ve seen everything he’s prepared for you. He would open your eyes. Eventually.

Hannibal Jr. could be patient.

"…Date me. Please." Peter asked you and you were momentarily stunned. You had known Peter for a while now, but you couldn’t have possibly expected him to actually make a move. You didn’t know what to say. You shook your head.

"Why would you wanna date me ?" All of your past requests had been lies or ways to make fun of you…You knew Peter to be better than that. But, you still doubted that he really wanted to date you because he liked you, or because he felt pity for you.

It was Peter’s turn to be stunned. You were gorgeous, funny and beautiful. He couldn’t possibly understand what would make you think like that ?

"Because I love you."

Your eyes widened and you looked up at Peter who didn’t shy away from your gaze. He held it and even leaned forward—his lips mere inches from yours.

"…Please. I love you, Y/N." He repeated and your heart hammered in your chest as you saw him close your eyes and lean forward. He wanted to kiss you. That much was obvious. And you hesitated. You didn’t want to be hurt again…He seemed to understand and sighed before pulling you towards him and resting his forehead against yours "…I love you, Y/N. Please. Give me a chance. I promise not to disappoint you or make you feel bad. Ever."

You almost cried at his pleading voice, but finally nodded as you buried you face in the crook of his neck.

"…Alright. I trust you."

"…Would you like to…go on a date with me ?" Kevin had rehearsed his speech in the mirror at least 30 times before finally finding the courage to ask you. He smiled at his small accomplishment…until he heard your answer.

"…I never thought you’d play such a cruel prank on me, Kevin."

His eyes widened and he frowned in incomprehension before running a hand through his black locks in frustration.

"Wait…You think am fuckin’ joking here ?" He sighed before sitting down next to you. "I know am an idiot, but come on ! Gimme some damn credit."

You looked away and sighed.

"Come on. We both know you’re outta my league. And guys like you never go for women/guys like me."

Kevin shook his head again in incomprehension. What did you mean by that ? Guys like him ? Did you…Did you think he wasn’t good enough ? He suddenly froze at the realisation. You were right. You were too good for him. Who was he kidding ?

Kevin sighed before standing up and nodding.

"Fine. You’re right. Guys like me have nothing to do with women/guys like you…I’m sorry I even tried."

He then proceeded to leave, but before he could get out…You embraced him from behind and held him closely.

"…I am sorry, Kevin. I didn’t mean it like that."

He knew exactly what you meant…He just didn’t want to hear it. He turned around to hug you tightly.

"…Don’t insult my tastes again. I like you means I like you. I don’t give a toss if you think you not good enough for me, because that would mean you think am a dumbass who decided to ask you on a whim. And I ain’t no bloody dumbass."

Your breath hitched before you smiled and nodded.

"Alright. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Kevin…"

Hannibal Sr. knew you were attracted to him and your past experiences. He didn’t want to rush you, but he also knew he couldn’t wait forever. So, he eventually hinted that he may enjoy to spend a little time with you. But, he knew you wouldn’t believe him at first.

He kissed the back of your hand and smiled.

"I never joke about the matters of the heart, my little lamb."

He then stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, his knuckles barely grazing your lips as he smirked. He then playfully winked at you.

"Besides…I am quite curious as to what a little lamb like you may offer me ?"

He then stroked your lips with his thumb and his eyes stayed there for a moment before he grinned and raised his eyes to meet yours again.

"…Do tell me when you are ready to trust me."

He then walked away and let you think about it. Hannibal Sr. can wait. He has spent a lot of time in prison and knows the values of patience and determination. With time, you’d come to realise that he is the man for you. And until then ? He’d let you think and slowly come to the obvious conclusion…

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #the hannibal family #hannibal siblings #peter hannibal #morgan hannibal #kevin hannibal #kevin hannibal x reader #morgan hannibal x reader #peter hannibal x reader #hannibal jr #hannibals #hannibal series #hannibal x reader

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mymisfitsbabe · 4 months

Text

Billy had just finished cleaning his kitchen, just finished putting away the last clean plate when someone pounded on the front door. Frowning, Billy pulled off his apron and tossed it on the counter.

“Who is it?” Billy asked as he padded over on bare feet to the closed door.

“Who the fuck do you think it is? Open the Goddamn door.” Gator called back.

“You can't just start showing up here, Tillman.”

“Just open the fucking door before I kick it down, Hargrove.”

Opening the door Billy sighed.

“What are you doing he- What the fuck is that?” Billy hissed as Gator pushed into his trailer and handed him a large furball.

“It's a dog.” Gator sneered as he moved further into the small living room.

“Uh, and why the fuck did you bring it here?” Billy asked as it wiggled in his hold, it's sandy brown fur already shedding onto his black shirt.

Gator turned and gave Billy an exasperated look, but Billy's focus shifted as he spotted the shiner Gator sported under his right eye. Gator was still in his police uniform, his vest had some blood on it and he was covered in dirt splotches. He smelled like sweat and dogs.

“What the hell happened to you?” Billy asked, shifting the pup to one arm so he could grab Gator's face and get a good look at his eye.

“Nothin. Anyways, you need a dog round here since it's so easy to break in this shit hole.”

“Oh fuck off, just cause you decided to go all psycho horror movie on me doesn't mean I need a damn dog.” Billy passed the ball of fur back to Gator.

“Just keep the fucking dog, Bills. It ain't gonna kill you.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do with it? I'm at work 12 hours a day.”

“Take it with you, Benny loves dogs and the shop is gated off.”

“Great, then give Benny the dog if he loves them so much.”

“I didn't get the dog for Benny, I got it for you.”

Billy sighed, as Gator set the dog on the couch. The thing was huge for a pup, thick sandy brown fur with bright brown eyes. It's paws and ears seemed too big for its body and the thing looked half wild.

“Where'd you get it from anyways?” Billy asked, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing the pup suspiciously.

“It's a police pup reject. The mom got knocked up by a wolf and this is the pup. Bright side is it's trained.” Gator rambled as he sat next to the pup and started petting it's head.

“A wolf? You want me to keep a wolf as a pet?” Billy balked.

“Course, they make great guard dogs. Roy has a pack of bout six back home.”

“Gator, I don't know. I've never had a dog before,” Billy carted a hand through his shaggy hair and sighed. “I don't have food for it and the store is closed.”

Gator shrugged, his face turning down. “I got stuff in the truck, you don't need to get it nothing. I just thought you'd like it. It's gotta be shit being out here alone all the time.”

Gator was chewing on his lip, looking like he'd been kicked and Billy sighed. “What’s his name?”

“Gator Jr.” Gator smirked up at Billy.

“That's a shit name.” Billy said arching a brow and suppressing and grin

“Fuck you, Gator's an awesome name.” Gator threw the old beat up couch pillow at Billy.

Billy caught it and laughed. “I'm not calling him Gator, pick a different name you fucking redneck.”

Gator jutted his lip out and scratched the back of his head. “Fine, I guess her name is Eleven then. That's whats on her tags.”

“Christ, there's eleven of them?”

“Yeah, but the others are full German shepherds. The station is gonna keep those.”

“Go get her stuff and show me how to not kill her.” Billy sighed.

#caligator #harringrove #billy hargrove #gator tillman #stranger things #fargo #Puppy love #i got the brain rot #i love them your honor #If trash why hot #ao3

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gaybananabread · 4 months

Note

rottmnt tickle head cannons? What is your favorite tickle trope for Rise? (As in who is your favorite Lee/ler scenario)

🐢Rottmnt Tkl Headcanons♡

~Oooooh my Rise hcs! Sorry I've been so dead recently, school is kicking my ass this semester (⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙). I'll do character hcs first, and the trope thing at the end. Much longer than my others for sure. I need to do more for these skrunkles tbh. Slight Rise spoilers if you squint. Sorry this took 8,000 years, and thank you for requesting!~

(Casey Jr Hcs)

💥Raph🧸

General:

We can all agree that this big ol’ teddy bear loves tickles, right?

Be it a fluffy comfort or destroying a bratty brother, Big Raphie is up for it.

Taking this into account, he feels like a switch.

Might admit he likes it around the right person, though his brothers have known for years.

He has to really trust someone to tell them.

Doesn't wanna seem like he's unfit to protect his brothers. As you can probably guess, he gets lovingly ejected from that mindset when people find out.

Lee:

If he gets a lee mood, he tries to hide it and fails miserably.

Big boy will have the dopiest grin around his playful brothers, which he does a horrible job at hiding.

Can't seem to focus on his advice-giving or training. It doesn't take long for his brothers to notice.

Worst spot is his underarms. You get him there and he'll give every dog near a NYC sewer grate a headache.

Melt spots are his palms and beneath his chin. Gentle scratches on either surface melt him into a happy, giggly puddle.

Likes being tickled by anyone really close to him. He's just gotta be in the right mood for it. April kills him most often.

Amazing thing to do to him is gentle melt-spot attention to help him relax. Toss in some reassurances and praise while you're at it. He'll be in a blissful daze for hours.

Ler:

Mostly a revenge-ler, but he can also randomly get ler moods.

He loves the Tickle Monster persona, always uses it on his brothers when they're being shitheads.

A softer ler, though he isn't afraid to wreck someone if they refuse to quit (or ask).

When he's being nice, soft scribbles, flurries of pokes, and side squeezes.

“Cootchie-coo, ya cutie!”

When he's not-so-nice, you get one or two giant, inescapable tickle-claws attacking you, big squeezes and occasionally neck nibbles if he's feeling evil.

Mikey, Leo and April get it most often, though each for different reasons.

Mikey straight up asks, and big bro is more than happy to provide. Boy loves a willing lee.

Leo’s always a shit, and some Raphie tickles work wonders on taking him down a peg.

April either offers to let him tickle her as a stress/mood reliever or engages a tickle fight.

He gives the best aftercare ever (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠｡⁠♡. Cuddles, back rubs, maybe a nap in his cozy lap if you're comfortable with it. Potential hot chocolate if you're patient.

🗡️Leo✨

General:

Sassy man gives off ler-leaning switch.

Always in the mood to lovingly murder his brothers’ lungs, but occasionally likes to forget his name.

This playful goof definitely likes tickling, though he refuses to admit it. He needs to protect his coolness, afterall.

Lee:

When the lee mood hits, everyone in the house is immediately notified. Not directly, of course, but it's pretty obvious that something's up.

WAY more one-liners and flippy jokes than normal. Awkward finger guns at the end of jokes, little prods and pokes for no reason, just general annoyance.

In his mind, he'll either annoy them into wrecking him, or they'll pick up on it and help. Either way, he gets tickled.

If anyone tickles him, it's usually either Raph or Mikey. Raph gets tired of his shit the quickest, and Mikey is good at reading people.

Worst spots are his thighs and feet. Get him there, and there's no way he'll be able to even think about sassing anyone through his laughter.

Melt spots are his forearms. After a long day of patrolling the city and being awesome, some light traces there will make him a very happy turtle.

Ler:

Okay but the SASS

He's such a teasy bastard of a ler. Will tease and coo at his lee until they're a flustered, blushy mess. Then he'll call ‘em cute one more time, just because he can.

He frequently gets ler moods, but those are way easier to take care of than their opposite.

Most of the time, his lee will be Mikey or Donnie. His bubbly brother is almost always in the mood for a good tickle “fight,” and Donnie needs to relax sometimes.

Has a bit of a rough style, but does get softer moods sometimes.

During regular moods, he loves to dig into sides and bellies, attack death spots and blow raspberries to hear a lee squeal.

On softer occasions, he'll gently skitter his fingers along death spots, switching places whenever the giggling gets too loud. Maybe some tickly kisses if you're lucky

His aftercare typically consists of cuddling during a Jupiter Jim movie, snacks, and gentle praises. Makes sure his victims are smiling, even when his fingers aren't wiggling.

🎨Mikey☀️

General:

Sunshine boy loves tickling, both as a bonding activity and a coping method.

He's a lee-leaning switch for sure. Ready to get his ass handed to him, but open to helping out his brothers’ lee moods or cheering someone up.

Has magical “can say the t-word at any time” powers. You know he abuses the absolute heck out of said powers, too.

Lee:

Lee moods are no rare thing for this boyo.

Gets them very frequently, though he's actually able to ask for help when he needs it.

Either accidentally or on purpose, he's able to fluster his ler. He'll ask for more, one specific spot, tell them that they're doing an awesome job, ect.

When he gets super stressed, some cheer-up/calm-down tickles are much appreciated (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

A massive squirmer, he can't help it. Make sure to pin or hold him, or you might get an elbow to the nose (accidentally, of course; he'd never stop apologizing).

Worst spots are his knees and neck. Either spot gets him screeching, though he isn't likely to try and stop you.

Melt spot is his palms. With his mildly-terrifying mystic magic, some feather-light touches can be reassuring. Just make sure to ask first.

Everyone kinda rotates through wrecking him, though Raph and Donnie kinda dominate the field.

Either because they catch on/get annoyed the quickest or something else, he's usually found with them.

Ler:

Surprisingly formidable ler

Don't let his cinnamon-roll vibe fool you: this man can and will wreck your shit.

Tweaks his style a bit for each person. Super observant and tailors how and what he does to each lee.

Compliment-teases are his specialty. He'll have you blushing in 5 seconds flat.

“Aww, I love your blush! It's so bright and cute, just like you!”

“This squishy belly is just so ticklish, isn't it? Here I thought it was just adorable!”

“Was that a snort? No, don't hide it! Those are the best!”

His ler moods are a bit rarer, but they are absolutely something to fear (or enjoy while they last (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠)).

Super sweet aftercare. You can't escape cuddling (unless you can't handle the touch, he'll understand). Usually some hand-baked treats as well, depending on what he has hidden from his brothers.

General:

🛠️Donnie👾

He's a ler-leaning switch, but that's mainly because he's not always open for being touched.

He gets lee moods, but they're rarer. People have to ask before they try anything.

Even with ler moods, not always open to get somebody.

Communication with this boy is key.

Lee:

It takes a good combination of good day + not overstimulated + in a touchy mood, but he does get lee moods.

Tries to hide and ignore them, but it never works out. Either Shelldon finds him and helps, or one of his brothers stumbles across the mood.

If he’s super overwhelmed with a project and okay with touch, some light tickles are perfect for bringing him back to Earth.

Little hand flaps and kicks when you get him. Happy stims galore! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Worst spot is his soft shell, though armpits are a close second. Loud, bright and occasionally hysterical reactions.

Melt spots are his belly plastron and tops of his thighs. Gentle traces and scratches on either spot leave him a stimmy, giggly puddle.

Most of the time, it’ll be Leo who tickles him. It’s usually for help calming down, though April isn’t far behind.

Will never admit it, but he does enjoy both sides of tickling.

Ler:

You know this mans uses his shell attachments to wreck people.

Those metal claws? Yeah, good luck- =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇)

Very dramatic commentary on his lee’s reactions. His inner theater kid loves to shine. Either that, or complete monotone. There’s no in-between, and he’s never offered an explanation.

“Oh my, you’re laughing rather hard, my dear gigglebug!”

“Judging by this raucous laughter, I’d say this is your worst spot.”

“Oh, it tickles? Really badly? How unfortunate for you…”

Has absolutely made tickle-specific gadgets and I will die on this hill.

Remember the feather staff feature from the Shredder episode? He didn’t just have that for no reason.

Usually wrecks Mikey and/or Leo. They’re both very talented at provoking him, either on purpose or by accident.

His aftercare depends on his mood. If he’s cool with touch, he’ll cuddle and watch a movie with you. If not, you’ll usually get some pats from his claw and snuggles from Shelldon (yes lil’ dude is fine gimme a break)

📹April⚾

General:

Hmmmm toughie, but I’d say ler-leaning switch. Not all that ticklish, but willing to help if one of her brothers is in a bad ler mood.

She just kinda prefers to do the tickling most of the time, unless it’s for her bros.

Extremely confident, bears the magic power of saying the t-word whenever she pleases. You know she puts it to good use, too.

Being the sister of the family, she’s gotta put her bros in their places. Why not use tickling?

Lee:

While it’s not often, she’ll let Big Raphie tickle her if he needs to.

Sometimes that boy just needs someone to reassure him that he’s not hurting them while giggling their brains out.

She’s pretty good at sitting still, amazing poker face. Could easily dominate in the Arms Up game.

As I said before, not super ticklish. Serves her well in tickle fights (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

Only her ribs really get her laughing, but other than that it’s bubbly, pitchy giggles.

Doesn’t really have a melt spot, though if she had to choose a favorite, it’d be her belly.

Ler:

VERY very teasy. Easily-flustered lees be warned (˘ ˘ ˘)

Loves seeing her lee blush and sputter, finds it endlessly adorable.

“What? Oh, it tickles? Good, thought I might’ve been going too easy on ya!”

“Oooo, someone’s blushin’! How cute~”

“Wonder what would happen if I went for your worst spot… Only one way to find out!”

Giggles along with her lee. They’re adorable—how could she not?

As big sis, it’s her job to keep her brothers in line. Why not use tickling?

Frequently gives Raph calm-down/confidence-boosting tickles. Boy’s too stressed, in her opinion.

After him, it’s helping Donnie relax or pry him away from a project. Leo also needs to be taken down a peg every once in a while.

Super snuggly aftercare. Back rubs, praises and even some teases for the road, if ya catch my drift~

🔥Cassandra🏒

General:

I’m feeling ler on this one. She doesn’t seem like she’d enjoy being tickled too much, though she definitely doesn’t mind wrecking others.

Before the Hamato fam stepped in, she didn’t really have much experience in the tickly field.

Maybe one of her foot-face mentors, but other than that, nada.

That absolutely changes when she joins the bros.

Ler:

Ready to vanquish any “enemy” lee mood to help her friends out.

Rougher style normally, though she can be convinced to dial it back. You wanna forget your name? She’s your gal.

Takes her role sorta seriously, though she can be playful. Just depends on her mood.

If she does tease, it’s more observational than anything.

She just kinda says flustering stuff without meaning to.

“Well, no duh it tickles. That’s the whole point!”

“Not there? You asked me to tickle you, but scold me the moment I get somewhere? I don’t think so!”

Attacks everyone pretty evenly, but she does have a preference for April and Raph. They’re the most fun to take down, in her opinion.

Cass respects boundaries, of course. You genuinely want her to stop and she’ll be off you in seconds.

Doesn’t grasp the concept of aftercare quite yet. Once you can breathe, she’ll start asking for feedback.

“How was that? Did it really tickle? Details, giggler, details!”

If specifically requested, though, she does give a mean back-rub and/or massage. If your back or neck is ticklish, though, you’re gonna have a whole new problem~ ( ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )

💮Splinter🐀

General:

Splints has ler energy, ya know?

Like April, not super ticklish. He isn’t the biggest fan of being tickled, but if it’s with very specific people, he’ll tolerate it.

Doesn’t interact tickle-wise very often, but he does have his moments.

Is very aware that his children love it and tries to connect with them in that way sometimes.

Ler:

With his ninja skills and small size, he can take down even the brattiest of lees in seconds.

You see his tail? Yeah, absolutely uses it to help wreck his victims.

Very playful, goofy ler. Laughs along with his lee, makes little comments on their reactions.

“Oh my, little one. I never would have thought you’d be so sensitive!”

“Heheh, what a cute laugh! You really should let me hear it more often!”

When he notices any of his kids are down in the dumps, he sneaks in a few pokes and scritches with his tail.

If that doesn’t work, they get the full-Splints treatment. Reassuring teases, rougher tickles and his undivided attention.

He’ll bug Draxum when he feels like it, which is more funny than anything.

Reducing the broody goat-man to a giggling, cursing mess is therapeutic for him ( ͡º ꒳ ͡º)

His aftercare is light and sweet. Head pats, reassurances, and a small cookie break for a nice close.

🌱Baron Draxum🐐

General:

Before the turtles, had little to no idea what tickling was about.

Sure, he knew that people laughed when it happened, but he couldn’t tell what was so great about it. It was just touch and laughter - no big deal.

Once the teetles got ahold of him, though? Yeah, that view changed pretty quick.

Turns out he’s a switch. Likes “destroying his nuisances” with the harmless technique, but doesn’t mind it being used on him.

Will never admit the latter, though.

Lee:

A LOT more ticklish than one would imagine. Like a few squeezes will leave him giggling and blushing like there’s no tomorrow.

He’s pretty good at hiding his lee moods, though they definitely aren’t repressible. Draxy feels them, but can keep others in the dark.

If anyone’s gonna notice, it’ll be Lou (Splinter). He knows the man the best, thanks to Mikey’s whole “fatherly-bonding” push.

Splints will help, though he’ll tease the shit out of the Baron the entire time.

While he’ll never tell the rat man, he enjoys the silly exchanges.

Worst spots are his hips and shoulder blades. Either place will have him stuck in a snorty, rumbling bout of hysterics.

Melt spots are his palms. He adores gentle traces there, lets him know somebody cares.

Ler:

Absolutely uses his mystic powers to help him.

Those vines? Yeah, restraints and tickle tools for days

Very smug ler, likes to tease his lees until they’re flustered messes. It’s done out of love, though, so can you blame him?

“This must be torturous, huh? The vines holding you still, my fingers on your worst spots… However, I don’t think I’ve heard you say stop…”

Usually tickles the teens if they’re annoying him, but also goes after Lou every so often.

He knows there’ll be repercussions, but life’s no fun without a little risk.

Huginn and Muninn are next in line. Surprising no one, they’re and attention whores. Draxy makes sure they get their fills.

Not the best with aftercare, but he tries. Back rubs and light praises while you catch your breath. Maybe some of his “confectionary wonders” if you’re brave enough.

*✧⁠◍Favorite Trope & Lee/Ler Pairing◍✧⁠*

Okay, so there’s no way I can pick a single favorite pairing. I love them all too much! I can, however, name my top 3.

lee!Raph, ler!April is definitely up there. I adore the big-siblings energy in their fics, and they just bond so well!

Pretty much anything with lee!Donnie in it. I love seeing the smarty-pants get got ( •̀ ᵕ •́ )

lee!Draxum and ler!Splinter. Okay, hear me out, but I love redemption arcs and enemies to friends/lovers/co-parents or whatever you wanna call what they have going on. They’re fun and I like fun.

For my favorite trope, I’m gonna have to go with cheer-up tickles, or more specifically, some stop-stressing-tf-out tickles. It’s always so fun to read how people would cheer up the boys, as well as write some super duper, totally not self-indulgent fics like that for myself. Maybe one day they’ll see the light, but don't count on it lol (¬////¬)

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koirian · 2 months

Text

The sillies!!!!

Shadow Company OC and company incorrect quotes

—————————————————————————-

S7-77 hanging from the ceiling: I wanna take a ride on the Commander.

S7-11: Cowgirl?

S7-77: no like perch on his shoulde-…..whore.

S7-11: Dumbass

S7-11: …5 laps around base, Sergeant.

S7-77 swinging down to the floor: fucking worth it.

—————————————————————————-

S7-77: Sir

S7-77: Commmanderrrrrr

Graves: What!?

S7-77: did you know

Graves: Sandra if I hear another fucking fun fact I’m going to strangle you

S7-77:

S7-77: did you know you have a new suit of skin every month

—————————————————————————-

S4-13: Are you gonna get off my shoulder?

S7-77: No <3

—————————————————————————-

S7-77 running off: L.t I’m bout to do something stupid!

S7-11:

S7-77 in the distance holding up a random feral cat: Holy shit! I caught it! I’m gonna name you L.t jr.

S7-11 mumbling: What did the commander see in you

S7-77 getting scratched by the cat: Ow

—————————————————————————-

S7-77 singsong: I’m gonna do some sketchy shit, sketchy shit, sketchy shit, I’m gonna do some sketching shit to my Commander

Graves at the end of the hallway

S7-77 still in singsong turning back around getting progressively nervous: Here comes the consequence, consequence, consequence, here comes my consequences chasing after me!

—————————————————————————-

S7-77 shooting a plane down and committing various war crimes: 🎶California girls were unforgettable🎶

—————————————————————————-

Graves: I should’ve left you on that street where you were standing

S7-77 standing in top of the fridge: Butcha didnt!!!!!

—————————————————————————-

Graves: Sandra why are there 15 Crates of your family’s peaches outside

S7-77: non ya

Graves: 🧍

S7-77: 🧍‍♀️

S7-77:

S7-77: completely unrelated, do you want a crate of peaches?

Graves: Course I do

—————————————————————————-

S7-77 high off pain killers giggling her ass off: Wha- what do you call a- a pile of c-cats

A random medic: Miss Fitzpatrick please relax

S7-77 not calming down: a Meow-tain!!!!!

S7-77: It’s not even that f-funny! I am so high right now!

—————————————————————————-

S7-77: Okay word association go!

S7-77: Holiday!

S7-11: Boys!

S7-77:

S7-11:

S7-77: Commander?

S7-11: Commander.

—————————————————————————-

S7-11 belongs to @pampanope

S7-77 and S4-13 are my OCs

#shadow company oc #shadow company #shadow 7-77 (OC)#cod oc #phillip graves #batshit crazy #all of them

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nicoline1998enilocin · 8 months

Note

Have you ever seen the photos of RDJ at the premiere of the first avengers film where he is wearing a sexy purple suit? And he's wearing a very nice glasses, his hair is perfect, he's so f*cking hot and delicious and omg my brain melts just imagining... If it's okay with you, I'd like to request a one shot where the reader is his wife and when she sees him dressed in that suit, she goes crazy and very very very horny and when they get home after the premiere, she takes that suit off his delicious body very sensually and teasing him a lot, so he takes control and f*cks his beloved wife senseless... with aftercare please and reader pulling that perfect hair and scratching his back 🖤❤️‍🔥 maybe even a babymaking

Passion wrapped in purple

Pairing | Husband!Robert Downey Jr. x Wife!Female!Reader

Word count | 4K

Summary | Robert has taken you to a movie premiere, but you two couldn't keep your hands off one another the entire night. You two go home early, and after some more teasing, something inside Robert snaps. He's determined to pull as much pleasure from your body as possible, and you're not one to deny him that.

Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. RPF, established relationship (husband and wife), unspecified age gap, porn with minimal plot, use of pet names (Kitten, Daddy), smut (daddy kink, breeding kink, lots of praise/praise kink, teasing, hair pulling, dry humping, oral (F&M receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), aftercare), multiple mentions of pregnancy.

A/n | Thank you for this amazing request, Nonnie! I had not seen it before your request, but after doing some research, I can totally see what you mean 🤤 I feel like this is one of the hottest, smuttiest pieces I've written for Robert so far, so I hope you enjoy the route I took with this one 🔥🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | GIF-credit goes to @duckbuttt

Main Masterlist | Robert Downey Jr. Masterlist

You're at the premiere of Robert's latest movie, and he's wearing a purple suit that takes your breath away while you're dressed in a perfectly fitting long black dress.

You haven't been able to keep your hands off him for the entire evening, though the same goes for him. The whole time you two were posing for photos, his hand rested on your hip or your ass.

''Are you having fun so far, Kitten?'' Robert asks, and your breath hitches as you realize what he's doing right now. He only calls you Kitten during sex, and you can feel the arousal pooling in your panties.

''Of course, Daddy,'' you say to get him back for his comment, though it doesn't seem to faze him. You couldn't be more wrong in this, however, because he can feel his dick twitch in his pants, and he has to try his hardest not to get hard right now.

During the rest of the premiere, you two keep teasing each other like that, but as soon as every interview is done, you two are on your way home and just about ready to rip each other's clothes off.

The drive to your home is way too long for both of your likings, so you have found your way onto Robert's lap in the back of his car. You're glad that your chauffeur is driving you two home because you can't keep your hands off each other, even if you want to.

''Hmm, you like riding me like this, don't you, Kitten? Yeah? Already so desperate for this cock you can't until we're home, huh? Such a gorgeous cockslut for me,'' Robert whispers in your ear as you keep grinding on his lap, his hard cock feeling delicious against your soaked cunt.

''Yes, Daddy, 'm your cockslut,'' you moan out as his hands squeeze your ass, your head thrown back as his lips find your neck and leave a trail of kisses until he effortlessly finds your sweet spot.

''Oh, Daddy!'' you can't control yourself as you moan uncontrollably, entirely under his spell of pleasure while his hands wander over your body, leaving goosebumps everywhere.

You've always had a thing for older, more experienced men, and when you met Robert, you were absolutely over the moon. Over the years, he taught you everything you know about your body, and he can play you like an instrument to make you feel nothing but intense pleasure.

When you two finally arrived home, he wanted to make you wait. Make you work for everything he's planning on giving to you.

He starts by undressing you ever so slowly, making you go crazy because he would not touch you anywhere you needed him so badly, but instead teasing you to no end.

''Patience, Kitten. Otherwise, I won't let you cum at all this evening,'' he said warningly when you let out one of many soft whines, hoping he would just give you what you so desperately wanted.

''Sorry, Daddy,'' you said, and you turned your gaze away from him, not wanting to look at him after he scolded you. You couldn't help but lean into his touch when you felt his hand on your cheek.

''It's okay, Kitten. I know you get a little impatient sometimes,'' he says in a low whisper, and all you can do is nod while you let Robert's touch glide over your body again, and goosebumps form everywhere; his fingers move delicately over your soft skin.

When every last piece of fabric adorning your body has met its faith on the floor, he turns you around and places his index finger under your chin, lifting it so your eyes meet his dark brown ones.

''Good girl,'' he whispers before leaning in for a kiss, and your thighs are clenching together to give yourself a little friction at the words. Robert knows you and your body like the back of his hand and knows exactly what to say at the right moments to get you aroused beyond belief.

His tongue slips past your lips effortlessly, and your hands wander over your husband's abdomen and chest, feeling every ridge and muscle underneath you've known and loved over the years.

Your long, slender fingers slide to the knot on this tie, and you undo it in a single, swift motion before pulling it off his neck and letting it fall to the floor while not leaving his lips for even a second.

Next is the purple suit jacket, and your hands glide underneath the fabric before sliding down his shoulders and arms, letting your nails rake softly over his biceps as they meet their inevitable faith on the floor.

When your fingers move to the buttons of his matching purple vest, you can tell he's getting a little impatient, but if you had to be patient for him, he would have to be patient with you as well.

''Don't tease me, Kitten,'' he growls lowly, and you can't help but let out a little smile.

''But Daddy, you said you wanted me to take control occasionally, right? That's precisely what I'm doing. I had to be patient for you, so now I'm doing the same with you until you can fuck me into the mattress like I know you so desperately want to do,'' you say with an innocent smile, and Robert feels his cock twitch in his pants.

He nods in response, and you move to undo the buttons of his vest before taking it off and letting it land on the floor alongside his suit jacket; you could always pick them up later.

When your fingers unbuttoned every button on his shirt, your lips moved after each one that opened, kissing the skin you had just exposed as you were on your way down.

You softly groan when you see his chest and the dark hair covering it that has you going feral each time. If there's one thing about your husband that you love, it's that he's a hairy man, and you love running your fingers over and through his hair.

As soon as all the buttons are open, you pull the shirt off his shoulders, and your hands glide over his biceps, chuckling softly when he flexes them for you.

Next are his pants, and you undo the belt with ease before pulling it out of the loops, your fingers opening his button and zipper slowly, letting your fingers rub over the fabric that protects his very hard bulge.

''Fuck, feels so good, Kitten,'' Robert groans after you've pulled down his pants, now palming him through his extremely tight boxer briefs.

''Can I have a taste, Daddy?'' you ask as you look up at him, and the smirk plastered on Robert's face is all you need to know before pulling his underwear down and out the way, letting him step out of them before tossing it aside as well.

You're admiring your husband's naked body for a few seconds as your gaze rakes over every dip, curve, and ridge, but not too long.

His thick, veiny cock is standing at attention for you, and he's already leaking pre-cum, which you happily lap up before wrapping your hand around the base of him, your other hand cupping his balls and squeezing ever so gently.

The moan leaving his lips is near pornographic, and you can't help but feel a flood of arousal between your legs, and your cunt is throbbing with need for your husband.

You decide not to tease him any longer, and your mouth envelops his tip as you suckle softly, and his fingers weave into your hair to ground himself a little bit.

''Hmm, you enjoy sucking my cock, don't you? My little cockslut,'' Robert says, and you moan softly around him before taking more of his length into your mouth and sucking your cheeks in, and your tongue lays flat against the underside of his cock.

When you find a steady rhythm, you keep bobbing your head back and forth, doing everything Robert loves until his groans and grunts get louder, and you keep playing with his balls until you feel he's about to cum.

''Cum in my throat, Daddy, wanna swallow it all,'' you say after you pop off, but your hand keeps pumping him slowly to keep him on the edge.

''Like I was planning on doing anything else,'' he says. You take him into your mouth again, taking him as far as you can, repeating this process a few times until Robert takes over the pace and starts fucking your face until he shoots his cum deep in your throat, making you swallow every last drop.

''Oh god, Kitten, just like that. Swallow it all for Daddy!'' he shouts out as he cums, trembling from the force of his orgasm, making you nothing but proud as he praises you like this.

Robert has you sitting on your hands and knees in the middle of the bed as he's eating you out from behind with such passion that you'd think he hasn't eaten anything in weeks.

Your face is smushed into the bed sheets; your arms have given out a while ago, somewhere around when he pulled your second orgasm from you.

''D-Daddy! Gonna cum!'' you mewl out; his mouth attaches to your clit, which is puffy and drenched in your slick, but Robert is still licking every single drop you give him.

Your thighs and legs are trembling beyond belief, but the pleasure you feel is so incredible that you don't want him to stop, and it appears that he isn't planning on stopping any time soon, either.

As soon as your third orgasm washes over you with even more power than the last, Robert has to hold you up by your hips; otherwise, you will collapse, and the moans leaving your chest will be out of control, just like Robert wants you to be.

You and Robert have explored the feeling of giving up control of your pleasure like this many times over the years, and you two have perfected it exactly to both your tastes.

''D-Daddy, please,'' you choke out as his fingers find your entrance again, setting a brutal pace until your cunt is sore from all the stimulation, but it feels too good to make him stop, and you let him drag one last orgasm out of you with his fingers.

''You're doing so well for me, Kitten. Just look at how well this sweet pussy is taking everything I give her,'' Robert says as you're coming down from your high, but there isn't much time to come down.

Before you can even comprehend what's happening, Robert has you lying on your back, your body almost folded in half as he slides his cock into your tight cunt, after growing back to total hardness again.

You gasp as he breaches your entrance, and despite having the amount of sex that the two of you have, it's still a stretch each time, which is precisely why Robert wants to see your face. Something about how your face contorts with pure pleasure makes him feel soaring, especially when he's making love to you.

''Fucking hell, Kitten, such a tight pussy for me to love, huh? She always takes me perfectly,'' Robert whispers as he leans down, your hands sliding over his neck and into his hair.

When he's slid in up to the hilt, he lets you adjust for a bit because hurting you would be the last thing on his mind.

''Ready, Kitten?'' he asks so softly that it feels like you're melting into the mattress, and when you nod, he places his lips on yours as he starts pulling out and thrusting back in, his tip hitting your sweet spot deliciously.

After a few more slow thrusts, he picks up the pace just enough to have your back arching off the bed, and the grip on his hair tightens as you're taken over by nothing but pure pleasure.

''Daddy!'' is all you can say as he chases both your highs, and when you're getting close, you let go of his hair, opting to wrap your arms and legs around him instead of pulling him as close to your body as possible.

Robert grunts and groans as he looks at the way pleasure takes over your face, and a loud fuck escapes his lips as your long nails press into his shoulder blades and rake down, leaving a long trail of red marks that only spur Robert on further.

''Can't wait to fill up this sweet cunt with my cum, Kitten. Going to get you so fucking pregnant for me; going to be a real Daddy soon,'' he tells you between groans and pants, and he's getting impossibly hard as he gets closer to his orgasm.

''D-Daddy, need to cum!'' you say, but he doesn't let you just yet.

''Hold on, Kitten, 'm almost there. Want you to cum with me,'' he says, and you nod, though you're not sure you can with the way he keeps pounding into you, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

It doesn't take long for Robert to reach his high, and his thumb has found its place on your clit, making you fall apart as you're clawing along his back, only adding to the ridiculous amount of scratches you've left, but Robert doesn't mind in the slightest.

''My good fuckin' girl 's what you are, Kitten, making me cum so much it's leaking out of you,'' he says as he pulls out, but instead of leaving it, he pushes it back in with his fingers to ensure it'll stay in.

''Can't wait 'til you pregnant for me, Kitten. All round and perfect, letting me drink from your tits as they drip with milk for me,'' Robert says, and all you can do is lay there with a dopey smile on your face.

''I'll clean you up, get you some fruit and water, okay? Don't want you to slip into a bad headspace after all,'' he whispers between soft kisses all over your body, soft grazings of his fingers on the inches of skin his mouth can't reach.

''Y-yes,'' you whisper, and Robert gets up to get a warm washcloth to clean both of you up, making sure to be careful with your sensitive cunt after everything he did to pull the orgasms from your body.

Then he walks to the kitchen to grab some grapes and two bottles of water before heading back to you, and you're still lying in the same position where he left you. You're too tired to move and too sore as well.

''Let me grab you a shirt and some underwear, Gorgeous,'' he says, and you didn't miss the switch of nicknames just now. It notified you that the ''atmosphere'' you two were just in is over, and he will take the best care of you.

He grabs one of his shirts that's always way too big for you and a pair of comfortable cotton panties since that's what you usually prefer after an intense session like you just had.

''Can you sit up for me, Gorgeous?'' he asks, and with Robert's help, you manage to sit up despite your body still feeling like cooked noodles.

The shirt is slid over your head and body with minimal effort, and your panties are also on within no time; when Robert has changed into a pair of sweatpants, he takes his place on the bed.

With his help, you get situated sideways on his lap, your legs stretched in front of you and your head against his shoulder, his left arm protectively wrapped around your waist.

''Here, have a grape or two,'' he says, and you let him feed you the grape, the flavor exploding in your mouth as you pierce the skin with your teeth. They're fresh from the fridge, so the cold feeling contrasts Robert's warmth enveloping you.

''Can I have some water?'' you ask, and Robert screws the top off the water bottle before handing you the bottle, and you take a few sips to hydrate yourself. You're slowly getting some of your strength back, and the cuddles with your husband are always an excellent addition.

''I love you so much,'' you say as you hand the now half-empty bottle back, and he closes it before putting it on the nightstand for later.

''I love you too, Gorgeous,'' he says as he places a few soft, loving kisses on your lips that set your insides on fire. The sweet, gentle side of Robert is the part you fell for years ago, and it still manages to warm you from the inside out.

About five months later, you find out you're pregnant after taking a test. Your cycle is like clockwork, so when you were late, it spiked some confusion, though your mind immediately went to the possibility of being pregnant.

You and Robert haven't been actively trying to conceive, but you two have also decided that if it ever does happen, you would welcome the little one into your lives.

And now here you are, on the toilet of your home, but your husband is away to film for yet another Marvel movie. Your first instinct is to call him, but you decide against it instead of going to a doctor first to ensure it's true.

That's exactly how you found yourself in a gynecologist's office in your usual hospital, waiting for the test results. The outcome wasn't a surprise, and they confirmed that you're about 1.5 months pregnant, so it's still very early.

''Do you have anyone who we can call about this? Your partner or a family member?'' the gynecologist asks, but you shake your head.

''My husband is away to film a movie for a few more months, so I am going to tell him the news in person, it's not something I want to do over the phone,'' you say with a small smile.

A week later, you're getting ready to see your husband and tell him the good news about your pregnancy. You're dressed in a casual outfit to not attract too much attention to yourself.

You may not be an actor yourself, but as the wife of someone with a high-profile life like Robert's, most people still know who you are. The drive to the movie set is pretty decent, but you're getting increasingly nervous when you park your car.

You rest your hand on your belly, although you won't show for another few months. You know there's a little life growing inside you, and you can't wait to tell Robert about it so you don't have to carry this secret alone.

After a few deep breaths, you decide to get out of your car and go onto set after getting a visitor's pass, and before you even get to set, you happen to run into Gwyneth Paltrow, who plays Robert's love interest on screen.

''Gwyneth, hi! How are you?'' you say as she approaches you and greets you with a big hug. You tell her you're visiting Robert after exchanging some pleasantries and small talk because she has to go, but she points you in his direction before walking off with a last goodbye.

When you walk onto the set, you spot Robert as he's in the middle of a scene, and you try to stand back a little not to distract him from his work, but it's hard because you love seeing how he works.

The scene was done soon after, and that's when you walked forward, and the smile spreading on Robert's face was unmistakable. He only smiles like that when you're nearby, and his co-stars couldn't help but chuckle.

''Hi, Gorgeous! What are you doing here? Is everything okay?'' Robert asks as he's enveloping you in a hug, and you let yourself melt into his touch. Typically, it wasn't a problem when he was gone for long periods to film, but now it's different.

''Can we talk somewhere in private?'' is all you say, and he quickly looks around before deciding to take you to his trailer, saying he'll need some time alone with you and be back as soon as possible.

When you're in his trailer, he pulls you close and captures your lips in a sweet kiss that has your mind going crazy, and you can't help but kiss him back just as passionately, though you still need to tell him the good news.

''Robert, we- I'm here to talk, actually,'' you say, and the nerves are now taking over your body as you see the worry etched onto your husband's face.

''Okay, let's sit down,'' he says and guides you to the couch where you take your seat next to him, as close as possible to him as you're about to tell him that he's going to be a father.

''Robert, do you remember our talks about potentially starting a family? Well, I think it's time to have some different ones now because I found out last week that I'm pregnant,'' you say, trying not to cry and failing miserably.

''Are you serious?'' he says with a nervous laugh, and you nod furiously as you're letting the tears fall now, not caring about your make-up or anything else.

''I'm going to be a father...'' he whispers, and you kiss him feverishly, not knowing what to do with yourself, though Robert pulls you into a hug. This has been his dream for as long as he can remember, and now that it's about to come true, he couldn't be happier.

''I'll be coming home as soon as possible to take care of you and our little Pumpkin, okay?'' he says after doing some quick math, concluding that it'll be born around Halloween.

''I'd like that, Robert,'' you say, and after a few more kisses, he pulls you into his lap and holds you close for as long as he can. Not wanting to let you go after the news you've just told him.

''I still can't believe we're officially expanding our family,'' he says, rubbing your back in soothing motions as your head lies on his shoulder. Though you aren't crying anymore, you're still feeling a little overwhelmed.

''Thank you for telling me this in person, Gorgeous,'' he says before slotting his lips together with yours again, until the door of his trailer swings open, and his assistant comes barging in.

''Oh shit! I-I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here,'' his assistant says, and you can't help but smile.

''It's okay; I wasn't supposed to be here, but I just had something important to tell that couldn't wait until he was home,'' you say to him, and he nods.

You look over to Robert to ask him silently if it's okay to share with his assistant, and he doesn't have to tell you it's okay because you can see it on his face.

''I'm pregnant, been for about a month and a half, in fact,'' you say, and you and Robert can't contain your excitement.

''Don't tell anyone, we want to tell the rest of the world at our own pace, but for now, I just want to live in our own little bubble, with just the three of us,'' you tell Robert's assistant and he understands.

And that's how you find yourself in your husband's arms five months later when he's home, and you're a little over six months pregnant with your baby girl.

''She's growing so fast, it's unbelievable,'' Robert says as you're both laying in bed. You're lying on your back with both hands on your tummy, and Robert is rubbing softly, calming you down immensely.

''I love you, Gorgeous. And I love you too, Pumpkin,'' he says to your belly before placing a soft kiss, followed by one on your mouth. This is the first time since you're pregnant that you're falling asleep in your husband's arms, and it feels like heaven.

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