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#and maybe there were a lot of changes made to her story and she was supposed to be some kind of love interest
fanofstuff02 · 2 days
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Second part! I guess you can consider this as more of Hell’s story in Adamsapple x Chaggie AU? Or maybe this is the first part? I honestly have no idea. Read the other one here
Tags: @talesfromawannabejournalist @rius-cave (hope you don’t mind)
I’ll post the full first episode tomorrow by the way
Long, long time ago, there were lots of angels. One of them was Lucifer, with shining dreams and thoughts, also with a closeness to the first humans. They considered him as a troublemaker, but harmless.
Lucifer was happy with his life, honestly. Both Lilith and Adam treated him nicely, even if they didn’t kind of like each other. He didn’t want anything to change.
But then, he made the biggest mistake of his life. He slept with one of them.
He remembered nothing. All he could recall was getting seriously drunk, and rest was fuzzy. Then he woke up in the Garden, completely naked. No one was there. The worst part? He somehow had a fucking child from whoever he had sex with. He knew he was fucked in a bad way when he saw the little kid coming out of his hat.
Before dealing with Lucifer, Heaven wanted to get rid of the child immediately. But Lucifer refused. He told them he’d do anything for them to not kill the girl. She didn’t deserve that just because he was not careful.
Heaven said they’d accept Lucifer’s offer, but at a cost. She would have no idea who her parents was. Heaven would raise her, he would only be able to see her once a year, without her knowing. Lucifer and the human who broke the rules, however, would be banished from Heaven.
They were going to question all of them, but Lilith, the first woman, claimed it was her. And fell to hell with Lucifer.
Lilith’s actions were enough for authorities to question humanity’s loyalty, and the new woman, Eve eating the apple was the sugar on the cream. They were also punished.
Meanwhile, in Hell, Lucifer fell in love with Lilith. This was how they were supposed to be like, right? Also Lilith returned his feelings. Somehow.
As Hell’s population grew more and more, Heaven’s concern of a rebel did too. They wanted to sign a deal with either King or Queen of Hell, and managed to do with Lilith. When Lucifer found out, he was shocked and pissed.
Their relationship started to crumble, more fights appearing. Lilith said this would be the best, meanwhile Lucifer defended their people. And then, she left, leaving a devastated, life meaningless Lucifer behind.
One day, he was walking down the streets, thinking to do the worst to himself. But he decided not to when he found a certain angel demon at there. Adam. The first man. Who was there as a sinner because he was against the genocide holy people doing.
Is this great? I hope so
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kaledya · 6 hours
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First of all, LOVE YOUR ART AND AU AND HEADCANONS, seriously, sometimes i feel that, at least the premise, is better than the original. Anyway, I have questions:
God's design when??????
Are the ars goetia still in your sinner's symphony au?
Do the archangels like lilith? What do they think of her and Luci's relationship?
did Constantine and Charlie go to some sort of university or have any kind of diploma or career?
How did serenity got her luck magic? Like, did she just appeared with it or...someone else?
What was Husk and Serenity's reaction meeting each other again at the hotel?
What is Serenity's job at the hotel?
Where do sinner appear in hell? Is there like a pit where they fall or what?
How are u? I wanna know how u doin in life
Sorry for too many questions
I AM SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY AU AND MY HEADCANONS!
I don't have a design idea for the god yet but even if I show him I plan to show only his hands and clothes.
2. they are in my AU and they're even a race created by Paimon and Lilith
3. Uriel and Jophiel was friends with Lilith and the others had a respectful relationship with her. frankly, most of them were not so sure about this relationship. yes, they knew that Lilith really loved their brother, but they sometimes think that if Lucifer and Lilith had not been together, maybe their brother would never have fallen.
4. Both of them were educated in the palace by the most knowledgeable teachers in hell, they didn't need to go to school. but even so, Lilith and Lucifer sent them to private school for some periods to socialize them.
5. I'm putting here a part of the story of Serenity.
(She is Half Sheep Half Wolf now I changed it)
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6. obviously their first encounter was awkward, the last time Husk met Serenity was when she was making a deal with him, and Serenity's last words to him It was "your ego and arrogance will make you someone's pet, Husk, but maybe only then you will overcome these flaws and reveal the old person inside you, goodbye old friend." Seriously, there was a strange coldness between them at first, but they solved it over time
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7.Serenity came as a guest at first, but in the future she became someone who helped Charlie's plans a lot, a kind of advisor.
8.the sinners are born in a pit of mud, at first they are reborn in hell from something made of blood and mud on the ground and they try to get out of the pit and reach the city (a place similar to the place where Markus woke up in Detroit Become Human)
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9.I'm fine! Thank you very much for asking! How are you?
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trashbag-baby666 · 3 days
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Based on these headcanons welcome to the story of Clegan and Webgott parent best friends!
•Taking place in sunny San Diego, John is splitting his time. Hes embraced being a stay at home dad when he’s not on base. He had done two and a half tours in Iraq, when he got back home he didn’t want to give it up. Hell, he himself had gone to Top Gun. Now he was just Naval aviation instructor at the base, teaching young pilots how to fly and in-formation, some basic dog fighting. Nothing special like Top Gun though, is what he always says, when people ask.
•Gale is the Navy wife, San Diego? Cheyanne? Manitowoc? He didn’t care where they were he just wanted to be with John. But they had made their home here now. He’s a library director at the county library, he bakes, and he’s a full time mom and Bucky wrangler.
•Lieb, similar to John, had a career in the military. He did two tours in the 101st, essentially coming to an end when he messed up his knee after a helicopter crash. He had lost part of his unit and had to pull his Major out of the wreckage. When he got back San Francisco just didn’t feel right. Nothing did, he couldn’t adjust and everything felt threatening. Bingers he went until he met Web at a bar. They hit it off and something in him flipped. The more he went on dates with this guy and spent time with him he could distract himself from the intense feelings. It then gave him a purpose to really seek out help. After he got sober and him and Web got serious. They decided maybe a change of scenery is what they needed.
•Perfect timing and a job opened up researching marine life at San Diego State uni. Web applied and interviewed the two of them holding their hands tight as Web awaited the news. They were really holding out for the news he got the job. They had found the perfect loft apartment and everything. Come Monday when he got the call he had gotten the job they started packing.
•John and Gale have been married since 2014. they have an adopted daughter named Louisa but they call her Lou. She’s their entire world, Johns got her convinced to become a pilot someday. When Lou gets to go to work Gale if he has a meeting, she’ll spend the entire time looking at books about planes. She knows where all of them in the library are located.
•Gales favorite mental image is of John and Lou sitting on the floor of the library. Book in John’s lap, Lou next to him peering over. John’s telling Lou about all the different kinds of military aviation devices there is.
•John, although thousands of miles from Americas dairyland. Will not forget his Wisconsin dad mannerisms. Him and Lieb stand in the driveway together and drink and talk multiple times a week. John’s usually grilling something, they have the garage fridge that’s stocked full of bud light and diet come. (And some juice pouches for the girls.). He still has his midwestern accent, “you tell ya folks I says hi.” “bAg.” “Go packers and fuck da bears.” Gale is cringing everytime the accent comes out and plays. Gale ALSO hates the Midwest goodbyes, John’s a life long pro at them.
• “John let’s go you’ve said bye four times now.”
• “Wait a minute! Chick is fetching me his mom’s bread recipe!”
•This is how John gets his call sign Badger.
•He tells them that his call sign should just be Bucky. But Curt and the other guys have other thoughts. So, they start calling him Badger, well like, Bucky Badger. The states mascot. So, it stuck.
•Curt was John’s wingman until during their third tour Curt crashed. He lost his leg, lost his other best friend and back seater Dicky. Curt lore to come later!
•Web and Lieb have their daughter, Thalia through surrogacy from one of Joes sisters. Thalia is a lot like Lieb, hot headed, doesn’t think before she does, and has that Liebgott sass. She’s gotten herself into trouble a few time, as we know now, using that attitude. But she does carry some Webster in her, other than her Carmel curls just like Webs, she also loved books, She really likes writing stories in her journal.
•When Thalia was younger Lieb broke out his old guitar and tuned it. He would play and sing for her all the time. It would calm her down and he would sing her to sleep sometimes. Although he’d never admit that he sings.
•Curt and Lieb go to the same veterans support group at the VA together. Curt’s quickly became Thalias uncle too. Everyone loves Uncle Curt and his cool stories.
•Web and Lieb are just so happy together :)) even when Lieb is being a little shit and poking fun at him. Or when Web goes out on that damn boat that he knows Lieb hates. At the end of the day Web lets Lieb wrestle him for kisses in bed.
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presiding · 10 months
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formerly an essay in tags but - billie lurk. half-nameless, misremembered woman. her powers derived from the things taken from her, without any catharsis or empowerment. the rat charm, tied with deidre's hair, her lover's voice in the mouth of rats. her arm and eye, taken, given back only to cause her chronic pain, then lost again. foresight seems a cruel gift for a woman who botched the timing of her takeover of the whalers, and bet wrong when it came to delilah.
she never bore the outsider's blessing; his first visit to her was more like an assault. every other dishonored POV character gets the choice to be selfish, and for that selfishness to mean something, but billie's actions have no effect on the world at large, either, in a game without a chaos system.
some say that corvo is the ghost, but he can reach out and change things. billie's buried herself twice and come back and nothing she does seems to matter - she is less a protagonist, more a convenient full stop in the narrative.
try this: open doto, start a new game. sit in her cabin. notice how little of billie there is. even the woman she loved more than anyone has the face of another named character.
she sits amongst the assets of other games: empty canvases and a dressmaker's mannequin that wears nothing.
#billie lurk#even the wiki is wrong about her its infuriating#pulled this out of tags because fuck it#in daud's DLCs even the stories that weren't about him were about him#but billie's stories are the scrapheap. they're the stuff they couldn't squeeze in elsewhere. cheap jokes and macguffins#i'm not even roasting the devs for this i think releasing dishonored in 2016 then DotO in 2017 was a feat (derogatory)#games should be made slowly and with love#and i know that everyones talked about this endlessly#but billie is my fav and it sucks that she got a game that only causes me to grieve for her as a character#not FOR her as a person#only the potential story that never was. that she never got.#you can have your strong black woman and not turn her into a trope. give her depth and range and heartache and agency. yes there was traged#but how did it SHAPE her?#dont get me started on her being designated caretaker of a former god and dying assassin. what the fuck#some of this i'd be more okay with if she was younger - i mean. the blank canvases? really?#this game could have been about wyman and there's not that much that would have changed in terms of the core story#“found out the asshole that killed your mother is still around. gonna go deal with that.”#emily who is stoned: “cool.bring me snacks on the way back”#wyman: “oh he's saying actually it was gods fault and that its possible to kill him. well i have literally nothing in my schedule”#billie's not surprised by anything anymore but maybe wyman would freak out over most of it. could have been a lot of fun#also you cant fuck up wymans characterisation. they barely exist.#local empress sends her enby girlboyfriend to kill god#pres writes increasingly deranged essays in the tags#death of the outsider spoilers#i have to complain about doto once every year or so or i die#but i'm not really gonna let arkane hide behind dev excuses when it comes to racism like. its not enough
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moe-broey · 3 months
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You know Henriette is lowkey kind of anime (like the SuMo anime) Lusamine-core. To me
#a lot of people were frustrated obvs w the changes made to lusamine after og sumo and i def see it#and i DEF agree w it regarding ultra sumo. but i actually do kind of like the direction they took#w anime lusamine. like yeah it was a huge departure from the games. but given the context/genre of the anime#it didn't feel like a retcon? it felt more like they had to make adjustments to her to fit the very#slice of life comedy direction the sumo anime took. and there were still intense and emotional#story beats/arcs for the aether family too.#and i think the changes to lusamine actually complimented the changes to lillie#who's main conflict/struggle is her intense fear of touching pokemon due to trauma#so like! lillie is still traumatized! and for a slice of life comedy one big struggle is enough.#she didn't need an abusive controlling parent on top of that LMFAOOO (save that conflict for game lillie#esp cause in game her whole arc centers around that)#man i actually don't remember why gladion was a runaway in the anime though now that i think about it.#but like for the entire maybe one person who follows me and has the pokemon sumo/feh overlap interest#does this make sense????????? i feel like it does#i actually don't know if i have any followers who have that overlap. i feel like you're either here for feh/askr sibs specifically#or you had the misfortune of finding me in a brief bout of pokemon fixation and have discovered. oh#oh you BARELY post pokemon actually LMFAOOO you're just insane over some blue hair and pronouns bitch#and sharena 😇💖#fe henriette
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yongseungkim · 22 days
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#and like despite doing social things ive been feeling more lonely than ever#part of it too is tryign not to fill my time with social media doom scrolling#but that also means i get bored more easily and idk#i need to start enjoying time by myself again but i always justfeel like#theres soemthing wrong with me if im not spending my time socially like in the sense that no one wants to hang out with me#my brain always wanders to that and like very specifically to her like#whos she choosing to spend time with if that person isnt me#cuz honestly thought id be seeing her a bit more after being roommates and while thats kinda true its also not true like she doesnt spend#that much time at home esp since we have to share keys so its also like damn all this time she spends outside of home#she doesnt spend it w meeeeeeeee#cuz like even when other people were staying with her#i feel like they like came to practice together all the time but w me shes like gone to practice with jealousy number 2 person lol#who she spends copious amounts of time with regardless like theyre so attached at the hips and theres been a lot of like#WHY NOT ME moments with that and subconscious thoughts about how i could change myself to become that to her#when genuinely like idk she has a different relationship with everyone and with me its never gonna be like that#shes made her choice yaknow and nothing i can do will change that#she do see me as someone close cannot deny that and our closeness is maybe a little more silent idk#in the sense its not very obvious when we do group stuff together#its aslo weird cuz for me she'll be the person i feel closest to in a group setting but she feels closer to other ppl and tHAT is also#confusing af to meee#just not knowing how to handle all of that#i just also idk#i feel like im just someone whos gonna be villager b in most ppls story#including my own lol idk man im just tired of feeling unworthy
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redbullgirly · 3 months
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Can you do a Lewis Hamilton smau where she is basically like Barbie? I feel like since Barbie is a fashion icon and so is Lewis, it would be a match made in Heaven. I read your pinned post and tried to make a request based on your rules. Sorry if it isn’t good enough
HI BARBIE! HI KEN! [part 1, LH44 smau]
Lewis Hamilton x reader
Masterlist & Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! [part2, LH44 smau]
Summary: Lewis Hamilton is part-time Formula One driver and full-time fashion icon. And so is his girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N, who's also known as a real life Barbie.
Warnings: None... but a lot of pink XD. Also this story is set in December 2023, so no broken hearts over Lewis going to Ferrari... actually maybe just a little teaser.
Author's Note: Hi Anon! This request is great and thank you so much for it, it definitely is good enough! :) I had fun writing and creating this, even though at the end it's kind of different than what I firstly intended to do. The original idea was to make Y/N very Barbie coded, but at the end I'd say she's Barbie inspired and I focused more on the fashion icon part of the request. Though there's a sweet storyline about why her nickname is Barbie, so I hope you won't be disappointed! :)
lewishamilton posted on instagram
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lewishamilton A lot happened in 2023 season and there was also a lot of outfits 🤞🏾✨
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user1 MY GOD THIS MAN IS BEAUTIFUL!
yourusername this was definitely one of my favs 💝
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lewishamilton What can I say... pink is the color of real men 🫶🏾
yourusername but do i still wear it the best?
lewishamilton Of course ma'am
user2 I love them sm 😭
user3 can we talk about the fact they're the best couple ever?!
user4 so sweet🥰
user5 And the fact she's literally the only person he interacts with in the comments...
user6 You are the best Lewis, can't wait for another season 👏
user7 🔥❤️
mercedesamgf1 Did someone say Barbie and Ken?💘
user8 YES
user9 admin you're so real for this... they literally ARE our barbie and ken 🤭
user10 The only question is who is the Barbie and who's the Ken? xd
user11 lol imagine barbie lewis💀
user12 GOAT ⬆️♥️
carmenmmundt Me and goergerussell63 when?
gourgerussell I don't really think pink is my colour...😬
yourusername don't worry honey, if he won't wear pink w you i will 😘
carmenmmundt Oh I knew why you're my favourite Y/N 😘
georgerussell63 No wait I changed my mind darling!!
carmenmmundt Hmm now I'll have to think about it 🤔
georgerussell63 Y/NNNNN
yourusername 😌😚
user13 i love how he always manages to get y/n into his posts
user14 The power boyfriend Lewis has over me😩😩
user15 RIGHT?!
user16 he's just so... asdgsagfsgd 😫
user17 I literally need this version of him to live!!!
user18 i'm weak for bf lewis🥵
user19 Y/N looks SO GOOD in that coat
user20 I need to know how she does it
user21 fr
user22 The best driver and a fashion icon... damn he's got some talent 🙇‍♂️
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yourusername great season and now it'll be even better winter break w my love 💋💞
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f1 Our own Barbie🤩
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user1 yeeeees
user2 Wait I'm new in formula one, why do we call Lewis Hamilton's gf Babrie??
user3 idk user2 she just gives off the energy 😆
user4 Actually I think Lewis himself once called her Barbie in an interview when there were rumors about them dating and then it just stuck with her 🤷‍♀️
user5 oh really?!! tbh i had idea he ever called he barbie himself... y/n is just iconic xd
user6 IT'S Y/N'S WORLD AND WE'RE JUST LIVING IN IT 🗣🗣
lewishamilton Can't wait to spend the winter break with you ✨
yourusername *mwah*
user7 pls I'm so excited for them!!
user8 the vacation photo dumps are gonna slay🤭
alexandrasaintmleux stoppp you're so pretty!🎀
yourusername nooo you are alex 🥹🫶
user9 they could never make me hate these two just 'cause they're dating the hottest drivers on the grid🫡
user10 The outfit in the second photo? HELLO?!
kellypiquet 🤍
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charles_leclerc I see you like the Monaco circuit very much👀
yourusername i see you're stalking my photo dumps very carefully charles leclerc 🤨
charles_leclerc Well I have a feeling we'll see each other more often soon so I have to get to know you better😉
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charles_leclerc Caught in the crime😂
user11 WHAT WAS THAT CHARLES?!
user12 omg I wasn't the only one to see it? I'm not delusional right?🫣
user13 idk what you saw 'cause i didn't but this interaction is so funny to me XD
user14 mommy- sorry... MOTHER
user15 ❣️❣️
user16 y/n & lew >>>>
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yourusername i'm barbie. he's just a ken (and he won some trophy for p3 in the championship... idk where it is) 💖💄
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user1 I live for Lewis leaving the trophy there💀
user2 and the way y/n basically confirmed this by saying she has no idea where it is😭
lewishamilton You're everything. I'm just Ken 🙏🏾✨
yourusername exactly... though you're the best ken ever 💞
sebastianvettel Isn't he more like Allan then?
yourusername ohhh true seb 🤭
user3 YOU WANNA TELL ME THE SEBASTIAN VETTEL SAW BARBIE
yourusername yeah we made him watch it and he cried during gloria's speech 💓
sebastianvettel I'm not ashamed about it.
yourusername and that's why i love u seb 🫶
user4 why aren't all men like sebastian???😩
user5 I love these three with all my heart y'all don't understand
user6 my fav driver watching my fav movie and crying during speech about feminism is my roman empire
user7 AAAHSDFHFGSDHSG😍
f1 If there was a prize for fashion icons, the Hamilton household would definetly win it! 🏆
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user8 not admin calling them hamilton household🥹
user9 Lol that would be the only fairly given trophy this year
user10 OMG I just realized that one day Y/N and Lewis WILL be both HAMILTON😭😭
user11 I'll tattoo the date of their wedding on my arm fr
user12 that's real dedication user11 💀
user13 TRUE DEFINITION OF A QUEEN... LOVE YOUUUUUU
kellypiquet Gorgeous darling!💖💖💖
yourusername we both babeee 💖🫶
user14 the IT wags casually supporting each other
user15 I love they're still friends even though their bfs are probably the biggest rivals xd
user16 not the shade about the trophy💀
user17 Waiiittt what happened?
user18 someone who was at the ceremony said lewis gave him the prize 'cause he didn't want it😭
user17 Oh and Y/N wrote in her caption she doesn't know where it is?
user18 exactly😭
user17 Whoops... I love her, she's queen for that
user19 and the fact fia tried to deny these rumors💀
user20 Absolutely love this look 🤍
user21 you and lew are just such a good looking couple
user22 THE DRESS I REPEAT THE DRESS🥰
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lewishamilton 🇲🇨 with the best company.
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roscoelovescoco Mom's look's so handsome's ☺️☀️
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lewishamilton Agreed
yourusername awww my boys are too sweet 🥹💕
user1 lewis complimenting his gf not w one but TWO accounts makes my heart melt
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user2 I want a man like him🤧
user3 WE LOVE ROSCOE CALLING HER MUM
user4 Lewis, Y/N & Roscoe are the best trio ever🥰
user5 parents and their son
user6 literally omg
yourusername wow who's that handsome boy laying on a couch 🥴😻
lewishamilton Handsome you say?😏
yourusername yeah, right next to u 🥰
lewishamilton Oh no, I should've seen that coming😒
roscoelovescoco Thank's mom's I'm handsome's boy's 😊👅
user7 these interactions give me the will to live
user8 I love the Hamilton family🥺
user9 lol y/n calling roscoe handsome xd
user10 The funniest part about this is that Lewis manages Roscoe's profile😭
user11 omg yes user10 not him playing being offended on his main and then being all sweet as roscoe...
user12 Love forever ❤️
user13 Y/N is so beautiful I can't believe my own eyes
user14 the two belong together forever 🙌🫶♾️💫
user15 fr
user16 If they ever break up I'll stop believing on love
mercedesamgf1 Mr. & Mrs. Mercedes
user17 pls give him decent car in 2024 to win another championship🙏
user18 The most iconic couple in history of motorsport 💅
user19 ❤️😍
user20 what's Ferrari doing in the likes?🤨
user21 lol calm down... he's literally lewis hamilton🤣
user22 No but it's weird... they never like other team's things
user23 and after the rumors during monaco gp too 🥸🥸
user24 I think this photo dump caused global warming... like daaammmnnn they're both so fine 🥵
user25 let's just say roscoe isn't the only one calling them mommy and daddy-
user26 lmao
user26 but true🫢
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yourusername barbie has a great day everyday... especially when she gets pink mercedes she wanted 🛍🤍
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lewishamilton Seems like Ken is good for something
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yourusername maybeeee
lewishamilton You want pink Ferrari too, don't you?
yourusername ☺️☺️
user1 ohhh to have a man like that
user2 OMG LEWIS PLS GET HER PINK FERRARI
user3 Yeah, Y/N will slay in that car😌
user4 i wanna be barbie too if she gets pink mercedes
user5 but first you'll need to have a ken like lewis hamilton
francisca.cgomes this barbie is so prettyyyy
yourusername love u! 💓
user6 Okay okay I NEED the bikini😫😍
user7 QUEEN
user8 Y/N looking gorgeous like always🫶🏼
user9 gold digger alert!!!!🤮
user10 Girl go away, you clearly know nothing about their relationship xd
user11 jealousy alert!!!
user12 the first pic does something to me 😩
user13 The most beautiful woman ever
user14 Lewis won lottery w her
user15 yes she's literally so pretty and they seem so happy together🥰
user16 fr I don't think I've seen him this happy before
user17 yeah he looks so much calmer and even younger when y/n is with him at event and gps...🥹
user18 Plus the OUTFITS?! I love them sm
user19 Where is Lewis 🙂?
user20 c'mmon he doesn't have to be in every post she makes🙄
user21 stunning as always 💘
user22 SLAYING AS ALWAYS
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Y/N’s interview
photo 1: Y/N: How did you and Lewis meet?
Y/F/N: Oh, you guys'll love the story!
photo 2: Y/N: It was actually in a toy store. Lew was there with his niece and I was there because... [laughs] Let's say I still like to collect dolls and lego, sue me.
photo 3: Y/N: Anyway, Lew's niece saw me, thought I'm a real life Barbie and wanted to say hi. [laughs] It was honestly so sweet that I didn't have the heart to tell her I'm just a normal girl.
photo 4: Y/F/N: So does she still think you're Barbie? [laughs]
Y/N: Yeah, I think so... She calls me Auntie Barbie! [laughs too]
photo 5: Y/N: But back to Lewis - I didn't recognize him and just thought he's really cute. We talked for few minutes, though then I had to leave and didn't have the courage to ask for his number.
photo 6: Y/N: But few days later he followed me on Instagram and I was just like - yes!
Lewis’ interview
Interviewer: Lewis, you recently followed a known influencer and model on Instagram. Is there something going on between the two of you?
Lewis: Are you talking about Barbie? Oh, shoot, sorry... [laughs] I mean Y/N?
yourusername posted on instagram
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liked by nina, lewishamilton, emmawatson, alex_albon and 728,196 others
tagged: lewishamilton and roscoelovescoco
yourusername aesthetic life w the best man, cute son and lots of flowers 🌸💖
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roscoelovescoco I got's mom's the's flowers's 😊🌷
liked by the author and lewishamilton
yourusername thx roscoe baby!! 🫶 guess daddy will have to learn from you 😌🤍
user1 ... are we gonna talk about the fact y/n just called lewis daddy?
yourusername ... no please don't, you know what i meant 😭🙈
user2 Too late Y/N, the twitter girlies are going to go nuts about this (me included)
landonorris Awww look at that grumpy little dude 🥺
liked by the author
pierregasly Mate are you calling the seven world time champion grumpy little dude?🤣
user3 lando tf-
user4 This is so funny for no reason😭
user5 Lewis being called grumpy little dude wasn't what I expected from this winter break tbh
landonorris ROSCOE
landonorris I WAS TALKING ABOUT ROSCOE GUYS
user6 💀💀
pierregasly Lol
yourusername why did you even think it was about lewis peirregasly ??🧐
landonorris YEAH MR. TRIPOD TELL US
pierregasly Goodbye...👋
user7 u and lew are so sweet
user8 MOTHER IS MOTHERING 😍
alexandrasaintmleux Shining like a star✨💖
yourusername and you're my sun ☀️💖
user9 I want a man who gives me so many flowers!!!
user10 yeah and they're beautiful and tasteful too
lewishamilton So lucky to have you darling! 🫧🫶🏾
liked by the author
yourusername we're both so lucky lew 💗🫶
user11 and i'm lucky i was born in the same century as you so i can witness this love
user12 I LOVE Y/N & LEWIS🥰
user13 I'll ask again... When is he going to put a ring on it? 💍 C'mon Lewis you obviously love her sm
user14 Your guys love is so special ❤️
user15 if this is the content we'll be getting during winter break, i don't think i want it to end
user16 races are great... but boyfriend material lewis hamilton is better🤤
user17 REAL
THE END
Author's Note: Hi and thank you for reading! I'll be glad for likes, reblogs, comments, follows and any other ways of support. PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT PART 2! I really enjoyed this version of Lewis and Y/N... and perhaps I have a lot of pictures that unfortunately didn't make it to the story because picture limit isn't very friendly. Love you and have a great day! :)
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dalliancekay · 2 months
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The 'Aziraphale Still Believes in Heaven' Take
Is one that I see so often. Too often. The way many fans (still) say Aziraphale is so naïve, he's never learned anything, he never changes, Metatron just offered him a promotion and he happily jumped on it. Happy to go back to Heaven. Still in their clutches. Leaving Crowley behind. Cos nothing lasts forever. Amirite? Poor long-suffering Crowley. So patient. Goes through so much. Aww. Takes that say that because Crowley never told Aziraphale about the venom in Gabriel's "Shut your stupid mouth and die already", Aziraphale has no idea that Heaven is not the good guys, that he still believes they are on the side of truth and light.
Takes that claim Aziraphale wants Crowley to come to Heaven and be an angel again so they can be happy like in the good old times. Takes that basically say that Aziraphale is stupid. And blind. LISTEN Do you mean this Aziraphale:
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Who knew before Crowley did that something is rotten in the state of Denmark, that things are wrong and one can get in a lot of trouble for a thing as minor as a suggestion to improve things. Is this the Aziraphale that would seriously suggest to Crowley, who he was immediately deeply anxious over, to go back to 'good old times'? What good old times? How is Heaven a place of light when:
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A bunch of angels comes down to Earth to bully and PUNCH ONE OF THEIR OWN?
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Why would he think they are the light when they shame him for being who he is?
Yes, I HC is that ultimately, Aziraphale still believes in God, in Her inherent goodness, even if Her tasks were often odd... and not lining up with what he thought was right. He thinks (remember my own HC) something somewhere went wrong with the what She wanted and the how it was understood and executed. And yes, Aziraphale wants to do good. But that's not tied to him being an angel. And it's not a bad thing ffs! Crowley does good as well. Aziraphale might be the only one who knows, but he knows. Maybe getting humans out of the Garden to seek knowledge was always a (certainty) possibility, and maybe not, but it was Aziraphale's decision to arm them.
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And She didn't make him Fall for it. And do you remember when:
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Aziraphale first openly questioned that Heaven was actually doing what God actually wanted? He had a think after the Flood, didn't he. He did what he thought was right. He trusted Crowley over his fellow angels, with his own sense of rightness. He and Crowley saved the kids that Aziraphale triple checked the Archangels saw no problem in letting die to make things easier. And She didn't make him Fall for it. In Edinburgh:
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Az re-evaluated the thinking he was taught and did a full 180 degree turn, trying in few hours to save the grave-robbing girl AND the possible future lives of children that could be helped via more learning. And when we come to Metatron and his threats, we don't see the full conversation, but don't we see enough? Aziraphale says that he's not interested. Metatron keeps nagging at him. Pushing the symbolic coffee from Coffee or Death at him. Flattering him with obvious untruths. After all, Aziraphale knows what Heaven thinks of him. He tried to reason with Metatron before. Metatron tells him they know how deep his disobedience lies:
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Aziraphale is not a fool. He knows this is an offer of come quietly or we will find a way to destroy you and your demon this time. Aziraphale didn't have to hear Metatron's quip of: "For one prince of Heaven to be cast into the outer darkness makes a good story. For it to happen twice, makes it look like there is some kind of institutional problem." He knows the system is rotten. He knows for a LONG time. Did you see his face when he met Muriel and realised what a lonely sad existence they lead.
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AND Crowley doesn't love Aziraphale despite the fact that he's being used to get out of trouble, being made to listen about random things the angel enjoys from symphonies to food and plays, and who continues to believe in goodness and kindness. CROWLEY LOVES AZIRAPAHLE BECAUSE OF THOSE THINGS AND because he sees Aziraphale for what he is, an angel who thinks for himself, changes his mind, learns, angel who is brave, who stands for the right thing, who sacrifices his own happiness for the safety of others, especially the demon he loves. They are the same. They are lonely. They are one of a kind. And they love each other.
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Aziraphale wants to stay at home. In the home he built for himself and Crowley. On Earth where he's found so much to love. But he knows it is impossible. As Crowley confesses his love, Aziraphale struggles to stay on his plan to push him away, to make him stay. He'll miss Crowley terribly. He wants them to be together. For him, they were an 'us' the whole S2. However tenuously. Fragile existence and all that.
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But even this was ripped away from him. And whatever he's planning, he knows he needs to do the first steps on his own. He can't submit Crowley to the torture that being in Heaven is going to be for him, an unwanted, despised angel. And that would be even worse for an unwanted demon. He had to push him away.
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So he leaves. Furious. And determined. Whether it is to burn the place down or find God and ask Her all the questions to Her face I don't know. But his love will push him through.
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And if I see one more simplistic take of the snarky demon is really good isn't he, so that means the stuffy angel is bad (and needs to change to be worthy of the demon) I will curse their dreams with lines about shades of grey. AZIRAPHALE AND CROWLEY ALREADY LOVE EACH OTHER
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rubydubydoo122 · 5 months
Text
I've seen a lot of discourse about who the angry Robin was, but like... why do we have to define the Robins in terms of that?
Dick's Robin embodied Light. He was the Foil to Batman's Darkness. His story is meant to parallel Bruce's and it's because of the reason he became Robin in the first place. He became Robin, not to avenge his parents- he didn't want to kill Tony Zucco. He became Robin in a very similar way that Jason became the Red Hood; To make sure it doesn't happen to anyone again.
Jason's Robin embodied Hope. He was a character who was given opportunities and he made the best of them. He was given a home, and a family, and education and he loved it all because at some point he could only hope to have those things. It gave him the outlook of 'If things could get better for me, than things can get better for other people, if I do what I can help them.' To Jason, Robin meant giving people hope, and that's why Jason was deeply affected by Gloria Stanson's death. She had lost hope.
Tim's Robin embodied Determination. No matter how many times he was rejected by Bruce, he still stood by his side. No matter how many of his family and friends died, he still kept fighting. No matter how hard he was beat, he still got up.
Stephanie's Robin didn't have a long run, and I sadly don't really know how to quantify her Robin. Maybe spite, I feel like. Because she became Spoiler to stop her dad, and be like 'haha, L' and also because she became Robin after her and Tim broke up. Idk, if any of you have a better idea pls tell me
Damian's Robin embodied redemption. You can tell from the beginning of his run, to current comics how much he has grown and changed. When he was younger, he didn't really understand how the LOA morals were wrong, but then he learned, and he's constantly trying to move away from that and lead with more compassion in his own Damian way.
Duke's Robin embodied the people. He was what they needed at the time. I don't really know much about his Robin either, so pls lmk if it's not that.
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stevesbipanic · 1 year
Text
Steve's only 25 when it all catches up to him.
It starts off small, things people wouldn't even be able to tell is an early sign of something wrong. Misplacing keys, forgetting which day he has his shifts, what time he's supposed to get Robin. Robin notices though.
Robin knows Steve always keeps his keys on the hook next to Eddie's by the front door, that's where he always finds them, he's not misplacing the keys, he's forgetting the hook exists.
Robin knows Steve has the same shifts every week, they never change because they line up with Eddie's at the record store nearby. Robin knows Steve isn't forgetting what time he's supposed to pick Robin up, he's forgetting Robin moved away a few months ago after she graduated college.
Robin keeps noticing when the kids start calling her because the little things are becoming big things.
Robin notices when Dustin calls and tells her Steve thought he and Suzie were back together, "Like how crazy is that we broke up two years ago, I don't think I've even mentioned her lately."
Robin notices when Lucas calls and tells her Steve asked when his next game was, "The season ended months ago, he came to the finals."
Robin notices when Max calls and whispers softly, "He asked to take me to the skatepark, Robin, I told him I had to help mum. He's forgotten I'm blind Robin."
Robin wished she'd noticed sooner, maybe years ago when Steve was getting knocked around a lot. She wished she'd screamed in the face of those Russians to take her instead. She wished a lot of things when Eddie called her.
"He's in hospital, Birdie, he collapsed at work."
Robin is back in Chicago for the first time since she graduated. She wished she'd visited sooner.
"Do you think the feds are gonna let me go soon, Robbie? I mean it usually doesn't take this long for them to bring me the NDAs."
Robin hopes Steve doesn't notice her eyes going glossy as she runs her fingers through his hair, "Don't worry Stevie, I'm sure they'll be in soon, Dusty is probs just arguing over something in his."
"At least he isn't having to explain he raised a demodog. Did I ever tell you about that Robbie?"
Robin smiles softly, "Yeah but tell me again, don't want to forget any of it."
Eddie gives Robin the gist of what the doctors said, Eddie didn't understand much, a lot of technical words and shit. Too many concussions, more than they knew about most likely. They say it'll probably get worse with no timeframe of how quickly it'll happen, there might be good days, there will be a lot of bad days.
The first bad day comes a week later. Steve barely remembers Eddie, trapped in a time when Eddie was just the kids DM. Eddie sobs in the corridor in Robin's arms. The next day it's like nothing happened and Steve gets discharged. They tell Steve, this time Eddie is the one to comfort him.
"I don't want to forget you Eds."
"It's okay if you do, sweetheart, I'll still be here."
It's Robins idea to start writing everything down. Eddie, Nancy and the kids all help. Filling journals upon journals of stories and pictures of Steve's life to help on the bad days. Steve has to quit his job, Robin moves back to Chicago, they make it work.
On bad days depending on how far back Steve is Dustin or Robin or Eddie will read through the books with him, filling in the gaps of what he needs. On the worst days, Eddie leaves the pile of journals on the bed with a note and waits downstairs to see if Steve will join him later.
They make it work for a few years. Steve celebrates his 30th birthday with perfect clarity. He writes himself an entry in the journal next to a big group picture with Steve and Eddie's matching rings showing.
That July, over a decade since Starcourt, Steve is in hospital again. He'd collapsed at breakfast. Eddie had thought it was going to be one of their good days, Steve had woken up fine, all his memories in tact if a little fuzzy. He'd made them coffee and giggled at Eddie's singing while he made them eggs and just like that it all came crashing down.
Steve's brain is shutting down. They don't know if he'll make it past Christmas. There's more bad days after that. More days with books left on the bed. Most days Steve doesn't even come downstairs. On the good days, Eddie always calls off work. He'd rather be fired than miss a single second of Steve smiling at him like he does, so full of love.
They have Christmas, the whole family comes, they have to bring every chair from around the house and squish in around the table just to fit but it's perfect. Steve sits between Robin and Eddie, face bright and full of love and life. Everyone gives him the tightest hug as the night closes, all lingering, afraid of letting go.
"I love you, dingus."
"I love you too, Robbie."
Later, upstairs in their room, Steve and Eddie go through all the journals, laughing softly at each little note the kids have left. Steve writes his little journal entry, a tradition of good days, and curls into Eddie's arm whispering soft loving words to each other before falling asleep.
Steve never wakes up.
The funeral happens shortly after, all of the family is still in town. Robin holds Eddie afterwards as they go through the journals together. When they get to the last page, they struggle not to smudge the ink with their tears.
Dear Eds and Robbie,
I don't know how many more good days I'm going to get so I'm leaving this here for you now. I love you both so much, you're equally my soulmates and I want you two to look after each other while I'm gone.
Robs, go travelling with Nancy, ok? Thank you for looking after me all these years but it's time for you to go look after yourself. Go see the world for me, tell me all about it wherever I am when you get back.
Eddie, I'm sorry we didn't get as much time as we hoped, I hope you know that even just a day with you has been worth a lifetime with anyone else. Go follow your dreams, write music, perform, show the world how amazing I know you are. I give you full permission to fall in love with whoever you meet along the way, I don't want either of you guys to be alone.
Thank you for giving me a life worth remembering.
Your Dingus,
Stevie
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mysteria157 · 2 months
Text
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Black Fem Reader
CW: Profanity, Light Angst, Alcohol Consumption, Explicit Sexual Content, Missionary, Cowgirl, Fingering, Fingersucking, Cunnilingus, Slight Dom Reader (not much), Car Sex, Bathroom Sex
WC: ~16k (It's long so get some snacks)
Summary: 
Maybe you're single for a reason. You’re too outspoken and mean to men, too demanding with your expectations, and you refuse to settle for less. For the ones who aren't worth the air they breathe, you chew them up and spit them out. You savor the taste so you know what to avoid the next time.
So when he looks down at you with that devilish smirk and calls you 'Princess', you're determined to prove that Toji Fushiguro is no exception.
Notes: Hello! This is my first fic with Toji and I'm nervous to get it out here. The setting of this fic and the elements I incorporated connect a lot with my own childhood and the memories (not the interactions in this fic) that I had at family cookouts and get-togethers. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!
Dividers: @royallaesthetics @eloquentmoon Header: myself (stability.ai)
Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter | **Sequel**
**Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!**
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“Can I get you a drink, princess?”
When you meet Toji Fushiguro for the first time, it’s on the fourth of July at your uncle’s house. It’s a big get-together at a two-story house located in the countryside. Every year he opens up his spacious home for a gathering of your extended family to bring excessive amounts of alcohol, play old school rap and R&B too loudly, devour delicious fucking food, and set off fireworks that have been collected since the beginning of the year. 
Your uncle has already made a home by the grill and taken control of the speakers after one of your younger cousins attempted to play something ‘a little too racy’ for his tastes. You’re pretty sure it was an Ice Cube song from the 90s that your uncle hates but is too proud to admit, so he lectures your cousin about ‘what young folks should be listening to’ instead. 
The smell of hamburgers and ribs has been teasing your nose for the past hour, and your hunger is borderline unbearable with each sniff. You avoid the allure of the long table of food because if you look, you’ll be three plates in before the meat is done. There’s coleslaw, baked beans, greens, and macaroni and cheese. Your favorite aunt also brought her potato salad and you know she’s going to make yellow cake with chocolate frosting fresh before the fireworks. You love it so much and you were deprived of it last year when you were called in to work at the last minute. You will get some today.
The backyard is expansive and well-maintained, and your cousins and aunts have already laid their claim on swanky cushions of the nice patio furniture. 
The one cousin you’re closest to in age and personality sits next to you on a large blanket a few yards away from the rising volume of your extended family. You were able to get a good ten minutes of conversation from her before her fiancé showed up and made a home inside of her mouth.
Your family normally has something to say about PDA—a stupid quip about acting ‘too grown’ even though you are both knocking on the door of thirty. But she doesn’t care—just like you, that’s why you like her so much even though her fiancé is sucking on her face like it’s his last day on Earth.
Shiu Kong is nice—gentle in his own way and carries himself with a bored air that seems to pull your cousin in. He’s enamored with her, practically folds in on himself when she’s around, and worships the ground she walks on. They’ve been together for a few years and you’ve never had a problem with him.
But that just might change today because he’s brought along a friend who has already ignited a flame of arousal and annoyance deep within your belly. From the moment Toji Fushiguro stepped into the backyard with Shiu, your family was transfixed. Your aunts can’t stop ogling, and your uncles and male cousins try to jokingly size him up.
“Oh honey why don’t you sit down, don’t be shy. Lemme get you something to drink.”
“That’s not steroids? It’s gotta be. Don’t play.”
“How much you bench?”
It’s annoying. So fucking annoying but you can’t help but agree. He’s a little older—maybe early thirties—but dangerously attractive.
Raven hair that reaches his ears, looks unbelievably soft and falls over emerald green eyes. A grey shirt hugs him too fucking deliciously for your comfort and dark jeans hug an ass that’s too fucking juicy. He’s a big man—a burly man and unfortunately, that’s how you like them.
Big, burly like a bear, respectful, and capable of making you feel small and protected but also valuing and worshipping you as a woman. Unfortunately, such men are hard to come by because you tend to intimidate them. You don’t tolerate disrespect in any form and quickly put men in their place if they try to undermine, belittle, or confuse protection with control. You know what you want, and you refuse to settle for less. 
They can’t stand it.
And right now, you can’t stand Toji. As he looks down at you with a well-worn smirk on his face, a smirk that suggests he has plenty of experience in situations like this, your irritation grows. He’s a smooth talker, confident in almost everything he says. His voice is deep, but melodic in a strangely feminine way that makes his words slide like silk down your back, and the minute you heard it, your thighs threatened to rub together. 
Definitely a smooth talker. But the nickname you don’t care for. 
Princess.
Like you’re a dainty little thing who will bat her eyelashes and call him Daddy. It makes your walls of self-defense rise even higher, and the gentle smile you had given Shiu when he first said hello moments ago transforms into the beginnings of a frown. 
Without hesitation, you rise to your feet, plant your wedges firm into the grass, and turn away from them before muttering, “I’m good.”
Toji simply shrugs; a gesture that annoys you even more because he doesn’t offer any other reaction that satisfies you. He settles into your previously vacated spot, leaning back on his hands. The jacket on his shoulders falls open and the sight of his shirt hugging his muscles is too much for you.
You inwardly curse as your eyes wander over his physique. Thick pectorals that you could easily rub your face against and make a pillow for yourself to sleep on stretch the fabric in a way that you’re sure it’ll rip. Abdominals tease just below the surface of his shirt that clings to him like a second skin. You want to lick between each one, press your teeth into the hard skin to make him wince and beg as you count each one.
Four, six, eight? 
Fuck.
You don’t show how you want to straighten your spine against the chill of being caught staring. That smirk is on his face again, tugging at the corner of his mouth. There’s a scar on the right side that slashes vertically over his top and bottom lip and you dislike the arousal that begins to boil between your legs from the sight. You wonder how he got it. If it was a fight, did he win? The thought of him wrestling another man to the floor and taking a cut to the face in the process shouldn’t arouse you, but god it does. 
His eyes make you think of moss as you watch them slide up your body, and it almost feels like invisible hands caressing you. They’re large and pale, littered with scars along the knuckles as they glide up your exposed chocolate legs, dip between your inner thighs, and caress the curves of your hips.
“See something you like?” 
He’s ogling you but has the nerve to try and put you on the spot? You have enough self-control to let logic worm through the rising lust inside of you. You sneer down at him, sharp enough for Shiu to visibly pale and your cousin to giggle at.
“To be honest, I don’t really see much.”
You don’t give him a chance to retort and you pretend not to hear the soft hum of nonchalance he throws back. You walk away from them, turning just in time to shield the way your eyes widen at the feel of your face and neck prickling with heat.
The moment you close the bathroom door inside your uncle’s house, the breath trapped within your lungs escapes in a rush. You press your forehead against the wood and the coolness of it offers only little relief to the burning of your skin. 
You turn your head and press your cheek against the wood so the cold surface can slide along your cheek as you open your eyes to take in your reflection.
Of course, Toji would ogle you. You’re confident enough to know your beauty.
A red sundress that hugs your curves, stops at your mid-thighs. Knotless braids with curled ends are piled on top of your head in a loose bun with a few strands that spill along your hairline.
You’re good-looking. But you’ve been out of practice with a man for a long time. Your last relationship ended when you caught him balls-deep in your coworker. You’re too shy to pursue a one-night stand and not detached enough for a situationship. 
However, you could risk it all for Toji and you hate that you’re entertaining the thought. You hate that you’re imagining him barging into the bathroom, bending you over the counter, and taking you from behind with his large hand digging into the small of your back and whispering how much of a good girl you are as you beg him to cum.
God, get yourself together.
To calm yourself down, you find solace in your uncle’s quiet kitchen. There’s only one person occupying it, your favorite aunt, who is heavily pregnant and working on the yellow cake that you’ve been thinking about all day. You use the opportunity to distract yourself and take over for her, shooing her away to relax in the backyard. 
You crack an egg against the off-white countertop, fractures splitting up the sides before spilling its contents into the silver mixing bowl in front of you. A self-deprecating thought slithers in your ears, and whispers loudly with wicked intention. 
Toji wouldn’t want a woman like you.
You’re too outspoken and mean to men, too demanding with your expectations. It pushes them all away, and although you normally take pride in keeping away those who aren’t worth your time, it can get lonely. 
To see your ex actively cheating on you was icing on a cake that was slowly cooking in an oven of your own self-doubt. You have standards, and while your friends consider you the voice of reason in their misfortunes with men, most members of your family think you’re too picky. You’re too much work, ‘you think you know everything’. 
“Men will always have a wandering eye, it’s up to you to keep them in check, girl.”
“Honey, I love you, but the more you pick apart a man, the less he will want to be around you.”
“They love it when you cook for them, girl. Take care of your man and keep him fed and you’ll keep him forever.”
Bullshit.
It’s bullshit to take care of a man in the same way his own mother does. It’s bullshit to lose all sense of self and independence, to wait on a man when he gives you less than nothing in return—when he can hardly give you the bare minimum. You don’t mind cooking for a man who takes care of you, who loves and values you, who would never hold you back and would encourage you when you can hardly encourage yourself.
But all the good ones are in relationships now, married with a few kids, and in your resolve to stay strong and weed out the bad to find the good, it’s left you a little bitter.
Most black families are old school, and yours is no exception. They hold ‘for better or worse’ a little too close to their heart. They cling to an ideal that a man runs the household down to the basics in a way that makes you uneasy and in your defense, you snap when you’re backed into a corner.
You love them, you truly do, but they probably will never understand just how aware you are of the world and how little you are willing to put up with the problematic things that others consider normal.
Your ex was great at first. But he got comfortable. And when he got comfortable, he got lazy, a little too controlling, and a little too frustrated when you asked for certain things in the bedroom. The only person who knows about your breakup is your mother, who had the gall to be out of the country for work, leaving you to fend for yourself for today. 
You watch as the batter spills on each side of your wooden spoon, parting and then falling back together like sand. In your reverie, you don’t notice a few of your relatives who have now entered the kitchen and are roaming through the fridge. You can hear one of your least favorite aunts—the bitchy one—playfully joking with someone, and whatever drivel comes out of her mouth makes that person laugh. It’s deep and suave enough to make a tingle of electricity stutter down your spine because you know it’s him.
Refusing to look in their direction, you continue mixing the batter until the lumps disappear.
“You been hiding in this kitchen for awhile now,” your aunt begins, Atlanta accent the most grating it’s ever been as she turns her gaze toward you. “You’re normally a little more talkative when your man is here. He not coming?”
There is not a trace of genuine concern in her tone. You and her bicker often; she presses your buttons and then gets mad when you press back. Your ex’s infidelity is ammunition you don’t want to give her, but being caught in a lie is something she would only treasure more to use against you later. 
You clear your throat and turn the spoon in the batter once, then twice before answering without looking her way.
“No, he actually came inside of my coworker a few weeks ago. So we split up.”
You can feel the noise before you hear it—a characteristic and sharp ‘mmm’ that seems to be ingrained in your family’s DNA. It makes your grip tighten on the wooden spoon, and you scrape along the bottom of the bowl until it screeches on the metal.
“You gotta watch out for this one, Toji. She’s always been an outspoken one. Too good for ‘em all and likes to be a little mean to her men.”
You scrape harder and then turn to her, a sickly sweet smile plastered on your face. 
“You’re right. The fact that I won’t settle for someone who will get bored with me after a few years makes me way too good for them. Should have turned the other cheek just like you did with your last husband. Or…was it the one before him?”
You catch the way Toji pulls his lips in to bite down on them, scar twitching as he fights to hold in a snicker.
Your aunt glares at you, purses her lips, and turns them to the side before pulling in a noise that has been passed down for generations. Her mother and her mother’s mother used the very same tactic to strike fear and insignificance in their children when they talked back. It’s a sucking of air between her teeth and the sound makes years of discipline from your own mother flash in your mind like you’re in the trenches of war. 
You know she wants to say something, and you can taste the ‘you always got something to say’ in the air before Toji slides from his perch against the counter and places a hand on your aunt’s shoulder.
“Let’s get you a drink, huh? Didn’t you say you wanted me to try the beer you brought in?” She throws you a knowing glare before letting Toji lead her away; because if there is one thing that will distract her from showing out, it’s letting a good-looking man touch her.
The shaking in your hands helps you sift in the dry ingredients—a mix of sugar, flour, and baking soda—into the batter. The breaths through your nostrils are heavy and thick with anger, and the corners of your eyes sting with heat. You whip the batter harder than necessary, your aunt’s words replaying in your mind like a broken record.
Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. Don’t—
The sight of a can of hard seltzer pressing onto the counter in front of you makes the ramblings in your mind stop. Familiar long fingers unfurl from the can and slide on the counter, their fingertips touching the edges of your mixing bowl in an effort to get to you.
“I would have given you a bottle of beer. But I had a feeling you might bash it over your aunt’s head.” He’s not wrong, and in your frustrated state, you consider his defense admirable. “I like a fight, but I’m a guest and the food looks good.” 
Your grip on the spoon loosens slightly as Toji leans casually against the refrigerator, arms crossed over bulging biceps that stretch the short sleeves of his shirt. His jacket is now gone, and you can’t help but notice the veins in his forearms that protrude, tempting you to lick against them.
It takes the sheer will to tear your eyes away and focus on pouring the batter into the bundt cake mold, observing as it fills the intricate crevices. 
“So he cheated? Most men are pigs.”
“But not you, huh?” you can’t help but retort, shaking the mold to disperse the air pockets that bubble on the surface.
In your peripheral, he shrugs. “I know what I like in a woman and once I get what I want, it makes no sense to look somewhere else unless she wants me gone. I’m a man…but I’m a loyal man.”
When you meet his emerald gaze, you can see a hint of pain and vulnerability that unsettles you, tilts you back on your heels from the force of his honesty. You reach for the can of seltzer and take a long swig to give yourself time to get your thoughts in order. The carbonation is sweet and fizzles along the sides of your tongue and down your throat. 
“So what is it you like in a woman, Toji?”
It’s a question that probably should have been left untouched, but your curiosity overpowers your restraint. You don’t want to go back outside, because if your aunt is still feeling particularly petty, she will say something that will only make you leave. And you don’t feel like letting your family win today. 
Toji’s strong gaze certainly isn’t helping. Those invisible hands slide along the crevices and dips of your body, stroking the small of your back before pressing featherlight against the back of your neck. The hairs rise in response, your skin prickling with gooseflesh. 
Unexpectedly, he pushes off the refrigerator and walks closer to you, and you’re too shocked to back away. Despite his imposing stature, you know he won’t harm you. There’s something about him that’s warm and inviting, soft and tender even though his exterior is hard lines and muscle. The two of you are now mere inches apart, and the air feels thin as if you’ve reached the summit of a mountain and struggle to breathe due to the change in altitude. 
Jet black locks graze against a rough cheek, the tips kissing the raised scar on the side of his mouth. Up close you can see his features more closely. His eyes are sharp and intense with deep green between his lids as if hiding a pearl in an oyster. Thin eyebrows make him look more serious and cutting and you’re swallowing back drool because your nose picks up a faint whiff of woodsy amber emitting from his body. It smells cheap—he’s put together in the most basic sense—but it still smells…good.
“I like a woman who knows what she’s about. Independent and doesn’t fuck around. Smart and pretty with curves I can grab and squeeze. Someone with some sass and isn’t afraid to put anyone in their place.”
He steps closer and your lungs heave in a desperate attempt to pull in air. The brush of the wall against your back makes you stutter out your exhale and you press your palms flat against the cool surface to keep you grounded.
“I like a woman with nice creamy brown skin that smells a little like the cake she’s baking…” Through the sea of delirium, you distantly realize that he’s describing you. “The red dress definitely is a bonus.”
That familiar smirk pulls against his lips again and your heart is thundering in your chest. You would be surprised if he couldn’t see it thumping erratically beneath the skin between what’s exposed of your cleavage. 
But this is just another trick in their book to get you in their bed. Or in the bathroom. Or over the kitchen counter.
And as much as you want to, you can’t give in. Because you’ll hate yourself tomorrow.
So you tilt your chin up at him and narrow your eyes at his amused expression. 
“Describing me in place of your ‘ideal woman’? That’s boring. Go use it on my bitchy aunt, she’s got fillers in her ass so that’s more curves for you to ‘grab and squeeze’ when she throws herself on you after the Hennessey kicks in.”
Toji’s eyes widen slightly before a harsh laugh barks from his mouth. It’s surprisingly nice on your ears and rattles the drums inside in a way that you don’t dislike. He pulls away from you, giving you a few more inches of space and the altitude in the air seems to level out enough for you to take an inconspicuous deep breath. 
“Nah, nothing against fillers, but I’m more of a natural man myself,” he admits.
“Cellulite and stretch marks?” you ask with a lift of a brow, teasing but…mildly curious.
You watch as that smile slowly slides on his face, teeth glittering and eyebrows raising. He looks like he’s hit the jackpot. 
“The whole package, princess.”
Biting the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile, you push down the lingering arousal in your stomach, refusing to let it simmer. He’s funny and you appreciate a man who loves the raw and often overlooked intricacies of a woman.
His response is disorienting, throwing you off balance, and you’re unsure of what to do next. Your usual response is to talk back, to take delight in a man fumbling when his own cards have been turned against him. But you can’t think of anything right now. 
You move around him to place the bundt cake mold into the oven, setting a timer with the plastic buttons above the stove. Snatching the seltzer from the counter, you lean back against the oven, putting a considerable distance between the two of you to think. 
Toji mimics your movements, retreating to the fridge to relax against it, folding his arms across his chest, and god he still takes up the room. Even though you’re further away, it still seems like you can smell the cologne as if it’s sitting right on the skin below your nose.
“Do your moves always work on women?” you ask before taking a good swig of your seltzer.
He shrugs in response and turns around to dig a beer from the fridge. You don’t bother to hold back the urge to leer at him. You want to grab his ass, listen to him squeal in surprise, and blush in embarrassment when you squeeze. The thought of digging your fingers into the skin of it as he fucks you nice and slow makes your mind short circuit, a computer rebooting and making a loud noise before frying out indefinitely.
“On the rare occasion that I happen to use them, yes they always work. But…obviously not on you.”
“I’m not easy to win over. You need to be worth my time.” Your eyes flicker up to his face before he turns around to face you.
He takes a swig of his beer and you watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow. The column of his throat is long and pale and you want to slide your tongue along the side to taste the saltiness of his skin.
“What’s it going to take?”
His interest in you is admirable, and a small part of you is giddy with the attention. But you’re nervous to give him an inch when most are quick to take a mile.
“I have a name so stop calling me princess. I’m not a royal, so unless you’re offering me land, money, or power, I don’t want to hear it.”
He barks out another laugh, his thick chest shaking and eyes closing as he throws his head back. You despise how good it sounds and you’re reminded of these moments when men seem so beautiful and wonderful before the ugliest parts of them are visible.
“What else?” he inquires, still chuckling as he takes another long sip.
“If you’re expecting sex from me, think again. I don’t do one-night stands or friends with benefits. It’s messy and I just don’t have the strength for it.”
He seems to consider your remark as if he has no choice but to weigh your stipulation before signing a contract. Then he smirks that devilish smirk that makes your cunt pulse between your thighs when you know damn well it shouldn’t. You cannot be this turned on by this man.
“Not even if I have a big dick?” he teases.
He’s annoying and you’re mildly disgusted but still willing to banter with him, so you grimace and roll your eyes. “What, you want me to take a look first before I make up my mind?”
He full-on grins, the fucker. “If that’s what it takes.”
But in true fashion, you bounce back with your own quip. “Public indecency is a crime and I also don’t like to look at cock until after I’ve eaten something. It’s nauseating.”
Laughter erupts from him once again, loud and boisterous that it seems to shake the oven against your back. He probably thinks you’re joking. But you’re not. Dick already looks alien. Looking at dick on purpose without any sense of arousal is pathological behavior. 
Your heart flips in your chest when he pushes off the refrigerator again, taking a swig of his beer as he saunters to you and the sight is criminal. Your fingers dig just slightly into the metal can in your hands, a faint pop emanating from it. 
“What are you bothering me for anyway,” you can’t help but ask, frustration coating your words as you frown more at yourself than at Toji. “I have so many other cousins here who are single and would love to get their hands on you.”
At first, he doesn’t respond, and in the silence, you struggle to take a full breath again. You don’t like that he’s so close to you, but you also love the way he smells and the way he looks at you as if you’re someone and not something to fucking eat. You’re a fucking mess. 
His head tilts slightly, and his hair follows the movement, brushing against his cheeks as his eyes take you in instead of scrutinizing you. 
The air feels thin again, and you ready yourself to leave when your pregnant aunt suddenly barges back into the kitchen and stops short at the scene. Toji takes a slow step back, not really bothering to fumble at being so close to you. You’re sure he doesn’t really care.
She’s your favorite for a reason because she understands. She’s not dismissive and mean and she simply smiles knowingly at you both before gesturing with her head towards the backdoor.
“Time to eat. Honey, why don’t you show Toji what’s what before your uncles steal everything.”
***
He stays close to you when you both make it outside, and you do your best to ignore your bitchy aunt’s gaze from her perch in one of the patio chairs. The spread of food makes your mouth water and you waste no time grabbing a plate for yourself and absentmindedly handing Toji one as well.
“I’ve never had some of this before,” he admits, and his voice is a little apprehensive from next to you as he takes everything in. It makes sense, this is probably his first cookout…his first black cookout at least. Strangely, you’re proud to be the one to guide him along.
“What is this?” he asks, pointing to the heavy helping of greens and ham hocks on his plate minutes later. You’re both at a small table alone and away from the noise.
“Collard greens…it’s a cabbage that’s cooked in a pot for a few hours with spices and broth. The ham hocks give it flavor, cook it before you add the greens so the meat falls off the bone better.” 
You bite your lip to keep from laughing as Toji gives them a wayward glance, an arch of a thin brow that makes his features more handsome than they should be, and then he takes a tentative bite before moaning sinfully in appreciation. The vertebrae of your spine lock in place, stiff with a sudden chill at the noise as you picture it slipping from his lips while you ride him until the hinges fall off. 
You take your own bite to stop anything stupid from coming out of your mouth.
You figure he has to eat to accommodate for his size but to see it in action is something else entirely. He finishes two plates in fifteen minutes and as he makes his way to get another serving, your bitch of an aunt speaks up from across the lawn.
“Why don’t you get up and get him another plate?”
Why don’t you shut the fuck up?
You grip the plastic fork in your hand tightly, digging into your diminishing potato salad and swallowing the vile that you want to throw her way. 
Make your man a plate before you make yours, get him a drink, get him another helping so he doesn’t have to, keep him fed.
Maybe this is why you’re single. You want to scream. You want—
“Don’t listen to her. You’re still eating, don’t move,” he levels, and you don’t miss the hint of irritation in his own voice as he gets up. “The same seltzer as before?” he asks, pointing to your drink that you didn’t realize was empty.
“I—”, you fumble before clearing your throat. “I like the strawberry one…if there’s any left.”
He shoots a wink your way and your body ignites with heat.
Your cousin worms her way over when Toji disappears, and you try your best to ignore the sly look on her face.
“Defending your honor from our bitchy aunt? My, my, the perfect recipe for your feminist heart.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you growl, shoving the last of the potato salad in your mouth. 
“He’s Shiu’s best friend. Moved here from Japan a few months ago and is living in the same city as you. It could be fate? You want his number?”
“Shut the fuck up,” you snap again, feeling exasperated but knowing that unless Shiu is here to stop her, she will talk until she’s tired or you’re swinging at her.
She giggles, undeterred and gearing up for more. “He’s single too. And you’ve got all our other cousins mad as hell because he won’t leave you alone.” You don’t reply, because you’re mildly intrigued and impressed with yourself. It’s nice to have the attention from someone so attractive; it’s just figuring out if he’s genuine that’s the headache. “When the music gets louder tonight…or when the fireworks go off, take him upstairs and fuck him on—”
“Didn’t I say—fuck you.”
She guffaws, loud and unabashed and it pulls a smile from the side of your mouth. You know she doesn’t mean it, you know that at gatherings like these, you’re the black sheep and she just wants you to enjoy yourself.
“Seriously though, cousin. Shiu doesn’t keep many around, but they’ve been friends since they were kids. That’s a good sign right?”
There’s some merit to it, but you still want to be careful.
And Toji Fushiguro makes it hard for you to be careful because he wants you around him all the time and is unashamed to show it. 
Later in the night when the music is booming old school hip hop that your uncle won’t shut up about (he’s drunk), your other uncles—and a few cousins they will definitely con—have a table already bustling with spades. At first, you’re unsure how they convinced Toji to join, but he’s partnered with one of your cousins who has no clue about the game, and you realize they just want Toji to lose so they can feel good.  
Feeling curious, you pretend to bring Toji a beer. He’s frowning down at the cards, irritated with his lips curled into a small scowl and your cousin is trying to act like he knows what to do, but his stupidity is palpable even from where you stand.
You offer him a beer and ignore the fact that the one on the table is still full. When he looks up at you, his sharp eyes hold you like a vice, frustration evaporating quickly before opportunity takes its place.
“Help me.” He doesn’t bother to hide the confusion in his voice and you can’t help the way your stomach flips. 
One of your uncle’s snickers. “She doesn’t know how to play.” You do. “But she can try.”
You’re so annoyed, and you want to snap at him but Toji is pulling you closer to him with a muscular arm before you can. You’re in his lap before you know it, sitting precariously on a thick thigh with your back pressed against a broad chest and you can’t breathe again. The fluctuating altitudes are making you lightheaded.
Any other time and you wouldn’t hesitate to turn around and knock a man’s teeth in for grabbing you. But against your better judgment, you relax into Toji instead. His cheap cologne smells way too fucking good, he’s so big and warm against your body and your throat is drying up like you’ve taken a big breath in the middle of the Sahara.
“Don’t grab me like that,” you can’t help but grumble, only mildly put off.
“I improvised.” It’s a feeble excuse wrapped around a heavenly chuckle in your ear and you pray to whoever is listening, mentally offering up a sacrificial lamb, anything to ensure you don’t drip all over his thigh. “Now help me win.”
You do. Three times. He's adamant about winning and you're sure he has a gambling problem. And if your legs go a little numb from sitting on his thigh or if you lean into the way his outside hand slides to hold the curve of your waist, you don’t complain about it.
***
“You don’t dance?” Toji asks an hour later, joining you on the blanket that you occupied when you first arrived. It’s almost sunset, and the orange of the sky covers half of the backyard as your family revels in their merriment.
You shrug at Toji’s question, gazing at members of your family who are dancing in the yard. One of your loudest uncles is boasting about the music as he teaches one of your cousins dance steps. That used to be you so many years ago, and the moves are like muscle memory as you watch them. One of your aunts takes over the stereo, beginning what will surely be an hour of reminding everyone of the greatest hits. 
You suddenly realize that it’s just you and Toji on the blanket. Your cousin and Shiu are off god knows where, and given her penchant for being a rebellious freak, she’s probably riding him on your uncle’s bed. The thought makes you shudder.
“Are you cold?” he probes, pulling you out of your thoughts.
It is cooler now, but that’s not why you were shivering. You’re ready to tell him no, to start shaking your head even as you watch him pull his own jacket off to place it over your shoulders. His hands smooth over your shoulders and down your arms as if securing it closer to your skin and your blood boils beneath your cheeks. Your skin isn’t light enough to show when you’re blushing, but you’re burning with nervousness.
“Stop being so nice to me,” you hiss instinctively, regretting the words as soon as they leave your mouth. The surprise is evident on his face and you immediately feel guilty. “I’m—I’ll only be mean to you in return.”
For the first time of the night, he looks angry. His eyebrows dip, the scar on his cheek twists with the harsh frown on his lips and he gives a severe ‘tch’ that makes you gape at him. “Why because you’re mean to men?” he snaps, impatient and free of any tease. 
It raises your hackles instantly, and you’re talking back before you know it. “Exactly. So why don’t you take a hint and stop trying to get into my pants—”
You feel a rough finger on the side of your cheek turn you further towards him, preventing you from looking at anything else.
“You just don’t like bullshit. Stop acting up and let me be nice to you.” 
For once, you don’t have anything to say even though your hand is twitching with the urge to slap the words from his mouth. You want to. It’s easy for you to fight back and push them away, you’re good at it. But you can’t fight the way his gaze seems to calm you down against your better judgment.
You pull your face from his hold and roll your shoulders, sliding out of his sharp gaze and turning back to your lively family. One of your cousins is arguing about why the Cowboys didn’t make it into the playoffs, and now everyone has something to say.
You pull in a deep breath, scolding yourself to relax just a little. He hasn’t been so bad, and you’re not one to make things intentionally difficult if a man is honestly trying. You’re still apprehensive about his intentions…but he is trying without being a beast. So you exhale your frustrations into the July air, calm down so your heart can steady its frantic pounding from the lingering scent of his cologne, and dig your fingers into your uncle’s well-kept grass.
“Fine. If I let you be nice to me…what would be the next thing you would say?”
You can’t look at him, but you feel his eyes on your body as you pluck a few blades of grass from the soil. The strands slide against the pads of your fingertips, rough and threatening to cut, before fluttering in the breeze when you release them. 
He’s grabbing you again, tenderly but possessively, sliding you into his embrace so your back is to his muscular chest, his chin rests on the side of your temple and his arms wrap around your waist. Your heart is back to leaping in your chest, pumping loud and fast in your ears, drowning out the music and arguing as if you’re underwater.
“How about you tell me about your family?” he suggests, voice unmuffled through the thickness of your hearing.
It’s a random ask, as if he wants to impress them, as if you’ve been dating for a long period of time and he wants to be prepared to meet them for the first time. The thought doesn’t leave a bad taste in your mouth, even though you know it would never be a reality anyway. You don’t know if he’s just joking and frankly, the feel of him against you is warmer than his jacket on your shoulders and you don’t want to leave.
So, if it means he can stay put, you give in. You tell him about your aunts, uncles, and cousins—where they are from and what they do. You share your traditions when you all get together and the small intricacies you all share. It’s incredibly personal…maybe even too intimate. But he listens, and hums to let you know he’s paying attention, and asks you questions as you talk.
Eventually, his cheek rests on the crown of your head against your braids and you surprisingly don’t mind at all. When you notice his arms wrapped around you, you get a better view of the scars on his arms and fingers, and there is a rising urge to ask how he got each one.
“So she’s been married twice?” his voice is low in your ear so you can only hear him in the noisy backyard. His breath smells faintly of the beer he finished an hour ago, and it slides along the skin of your neck hot and thick. You resist the urge to cant your neck to the side to give his breath more room to roam.
You nod. “She got the fillers after the first husband. Those brought in the second husband. Then he left her for some girl in Cali.”
“Cali?’ he questions, confused.
You snort softly. “California.” You elbow him and the bone slides against hard muscle. Dammit. “You don’t know your states?”
“I’m foreign, not stupid.” The laugh that bubbles from your chest is sharp and you can’t help the smile that pulls against your cheeks from it. “I know my states!” He sounds truly annoyed and for some reason that makes you laugh harder. “Florida, Kansas—”
“I’m not asking you to prove yourself!” you sputter around a giggle, shaking in his embrace. But he’s not listening.
“Montana, New York…there’s another one…the big one.”
You gawk, turning just a little to crane your head up at him. He looks down at you with an embarrassed expression, his cheeks a little rosy even though his lips are flickering with the urge to laugh. 
“I beg your finest pardon…the big one?”
The side of his face twists in the nastiest way, and he’s angry at being questioned. “Don’t—it’s the one down below!”
“In relation to what?”
His eyes narrow, emerald barely noticeable between thick lashes. You can sense his hold on you tightening slightly, his chest stutters in a huff and you realize with rising glee that he’s pouting. Normally you would revel in this…but—
“Texas,” you find yourself speaking up at him, voice soft and gentle on the edges. “The big one down below is Texas.”
He simply hums, his chest vibrating against your back, but his gaze is smoldering, taking you in and dipping down to your lips before flickering back up your eyes. You’re too hot now, his jacket against your skin too suffocating, your heart beating too fast against your ribcage.
You hate just how rebellious you like to be. “What, you gonna kiss me?”
The challenge is fleeting across his features and he leans down so quickly that you don’t have time to react. Your stomach flips with irritation at the implication that he would take from you without asking, and suddenly, you no longer want him touching you.
“I wouldn’t take it without asking,” he whispers in the small space between you both as if reading your thoughts. The tips of his raven locks brush against your cheek, there’s a slight kink in your neck from how you are looking up at him, but he’s so close that you don’t care. One of his hands skims up from your waist, caressing the curve of your ribs, and his thumb teasingly runs along the underside of your clothed breast. His touch is reactive in you, and you angle your body further into his actions. His gaze remains locked on yours, absorbing your very being without doing a thing and you’re fighting to stay in control.
“So can I?” he asks, voice deep with temptation. “Kiss you?”
You swallow the bucket of drool that has somehow pooled in the back of your throat in seconds. The thumping of your heart no longer fills your ears, replaced now by a deafening ringing, spurred by your growing desire as you open your mouth to respond. 
“I…depends…are you any good?”
He nonchalantly shrugs, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as his scarred lips twist into a smirk. He’s completely calm and you can tell if you told him no, he would leave it alone entirely. But he’s enjoying this, you can see it all over his face.
“Jury’s still out.”
You don’t trust yourself to say ‘yes’. Some part of you feels like if it comes out of your mouth, it will sound too desperate and you want to stay in control as much as you can. But, you could give yourself this. You’ve earned it. Just one kiss and then you could hide away until the fireworks and then use the noise as a cover to leave. After all, he’s hot. He’s been so nice and honest and the warning siren in your mind has long faded.
You deserve a reward.
So you nod, stiffly but enough for him to notice, and the air seems to thin out again when he leans in a little more.
“Toji!” one of your uncles calls out, severing through the heavy cloud of lust between you both like a knife. You recoil from his touch, his touch now only making you itchy, and you pull from his embrace so that his arms unravel and his jacket slides off your shoulders. The cooler air is freezing this time against your skin. “Come help me with the fireworks, would you?”
You don’t pay attention to his response, because you’re already up on your feet and making your way inside the house. Your body floods with the embarrassment and shame of being caught by your family…kissing a man that you’ve just met. You know you shouldn’t care…but it’s so easy for their behavior to rub off on you when you feel vulnerable.
***
Thankfully, no one is in the kitchen when you finally make it inside. The music dulls down when you close the backyard door and the ringing in your ears is now silent. 
You resolve to stay inside until the fireworks go off. No one is really paying attention to you anyway—most of them are drunk, others too absorbed in the music and gossip so it’s a perfect chance for you to duck away and show your face again next year.
Should you tell Toji goodbye?
No.
No, you hardly know the man. Just a few hours in good company and a kiss that almost happened that you probably would have let escalate. You probably would have let his tongue slide into your mouth. Probably would have let him pull you into one of the spare rooms, eat you out until you’re seeing stars, and then bend you over the edge of the bed to fuck you until he—
For fuck’s sake.
You yank open one of the kitchen cabinets in search of a glass. You need water because your body is piping hot. There’s a sheen of sweat on your neck beneath the layer of braids that fell when Toji laid his cheek on your head, and your hands are slick as they press into the counter to give you strength to peek into one of the lower shelves. Of course, the only one in the cabinet would be on the highest shelf. Of course, you’re too fucking short.
You climb onto the counter, knees digging into the off-white surface as you lift yourself up and peer into one of the higher shelves. You spot a glass, and you can have a heaping glass to cool yourself off enough to get you home. And then you can just use your vibrator once and go to sleep. Or twice. Or maybe a third time to get the thought of him out of your mind for the foreseeable future. 
Unbeknownst to you, he’s standing behind you. You didn’t even hear the back door open and close. But you catch a glimpse of a long, muscular arm reaching past your ear to grab the glass. You’re frozen, your fingers digging into the wooden shelf, unable to turn around and face him, even though you can feel his gaze hot on your skin.
Your plan is shattered, and you have no choice but to come up with an excuse to leave him. You’re combing through scenarios in your mind as you slowly slide down and perch yourself on the countertop, finally facing him. He places the glass on the counter, away from you, and closes the distance between you until the ridges of his clothed abs brush against your knees. His hands are searing against your skin as they rest on your knees and you watch his thumbs trace an obscure pattern with a touch that is featherlight. 
“Your uncle interrupted us,” Toji finally speaks, his voice carrying a hint of hopefulness despite his attempt to maintain a neutral expression. His gaze, so harsh and sharp, is alluring in its own way, tempting you to relax the steady clench of your thighs.
“It probably wasn’t a good idea anyway,” you chuckle, self-deprecation rising to the surface of your skin and prickling against the pores.
“Why not?”
Maybe because you would be too much for him and scare him away? Maybe the fear of being too demanding in bed, of not being able to stop once he kisses you, lingers in your thoughts, making the idea of having him only once and never again infuriating.
“I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. I’ll get you water and let you sneak away when the fireworks go off because I know you want to…even though you shouldn’t give a fuck about what your family thinks…but I would really like that kiss.”
Analyzing his features, you take in the sincerity reflected in the moss-green of his eyes. It’s a last-ditch effort to make sure something else isn’t hiding there, and you find yourself coming up short.
Slowly, you part your legs for him to stand between. His hands slide up your thighs tantalizingly slow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake before pushing the fabric of your red sundress up to your waist. You try to ignore the way the cool air on your panties does little to quell the heat radiating from them. His hands wrap around your waist and a gasp heaves from your lips when he yanks you to him, your thighs brushing the sides of his thick waist. 
One of the hands on your waist trails up to the side of your neck, gently tilting your head up, so you can look fully at him as his thumb traces the skin of your bottom lip.
“You better make it good,” you challenge, hoping your faux annoyance can mask the anticipation building in your gut.
He sees right through it and simply hums before he leans down to finally seal his lips against yours. He’s a big man, an overwhelming man, and you feel it in his kiss as his lips take every ounce of breath you have in your lungs. He tastes like the pound yellow cake that everyone got to before you could and a hint of beer and it’s the perfect combination that you want more of. 
His hands are under your dress, brushing beneath your thighs for traction and pulling you impossibly closer to the point where you feel your clothed center brush against the zipper of his jeans. You dig your hands into the fabric of his shirt, twisting and silently commanding for him to give you more. You open your mouth to coax him and his tongue is wet and insistent against yours.
You can feel your resolve dissipating in the air, fizzling against the heat that radiates from your body and your self-control is walking on a tightrope, precariously and seconds away from falling. And once it’s gone, you’ll be a woman unhinged.
He yanks you to him again as if its not enough, harder this time with a growl in the back of his throat that makes you gasp into his mouth, then rolls his hips against yours and behind his zipper you feel him hard and bulging and angry and oh—
You pull away with a harsh breath, gasping for air and biting back a moan that gurgles in your throat when his mouth works its way down the skin of your neck. Your skin is sensitive, and it buzzes with the touch of his lips and invokes a fervent need so deep within you that you’re losing awareness of where you are. You’re lightheaded, brain in the fucking stratosphere and you have to lay down, you have to—
He’s guiding you onto your back before you can do it yourself and the cool counter is a balm against the skin of your exposed shoulders and back. He looms over you from his place between your legs, big and muscular and reeking of hunger. 
“Toji,” you try to speak into the air, stifling a whimper at the sight of him stretching out your leg to rest on his shoulder.
One of his large hands caresses the canvas of your calf before you watch his lips kiss your chocolate skin. His rough scar scratches against you in the most delightful way as his mouth kisses up your calf, bends your leg to get closer, and then resumes his touch on the inside of your thigh. His face should be melting with the amount of heat emitting from between your legs, but he must relish in the burn because the second his tongue slides thick and wet against your clothed cunt, you whimper pathetically into the air.
You have just enough common sense to break from the desire to be fucked thoroughly to whisper.
“Toji, we can’t,” you swallow against the dryness in your throat. “Someone could see.”
You can feel the impatience on his body in waves but he has to listen to you. If your family were to walk in here right now to see their niece or cousin being eaten out like a gourmet meal, the Earth would swallow you whole.
“Shit,” he hisses, pulling you into his arms and carrying you out of the kitchen. You don’t care enough to tell him where to go; you’re too hot, too wet in your panties, and your need is twisting at the base of your spine in the most irritating way, begging to be soothed. 
You hear the beginnings of fireworks being popped off in the backyard and your family is loud, thankfully so loud as Toji locks the door to the bathroom and drops you unceremoniously onto the counter. Though the metal of the faucet digs into the small of your back and you fall into the mirror as you clamber to get yourself in order, you can’t bring yourself to care. He’s on you again, all teeth and lips and sinful tongue in your mouth with equally sinful hands digging impatiently into the sides of your panties.
“Take them off,” you demand, practically whining and in less than a second you can only get one leg out before he’s sinking to his knees, eyes wild and shoulders heaving with untamed breaths. 
“God, you’re so fucking wet. So damn pretty,” he whispers in reverence, throwing your legs over his shoulders, and the compliment makes your cunt throb in anticipation.
You can’t be sure if he’s talking to you or himself. Before you can breathe to calm yourself, it’s catching in your throat, hitching against a moan as his tongue licks a long wet stripe up the slit of your dripping cunt. His tongue parts your folds as if it’s the sea, savoring your essence and then sucking your clit into his mouth like it’s the cherry on top and you love it, whine at the feel, eyes crossing and rolling into the back of your head at the exquisite feeling.
He pulls away for a moment, taking a deep breath as if to regain control, and kisses the inside of your thigh before sliding two fingers up your dripping center, collecting your slick before beginning to rub circles on your clit. He’s mesmerized, and you take a moment to marvel at just how little of his green eyes are visible to you, his pupils are dilated with hunger and focused on the way your cunt moves with his fingers.
“Your bitch of an ex ever eat you out?”
You really don’t want to think about him right now, and you also don’t like the thought of someone feeling like they need to prove themselves to you.
But there’s a big man between your thighs who wants to unwrap you like candy. So you shrug, panting softly as you speak, “Every now and then.”
Toji scoffs, eyes seeming to darken like a forest at night.
“Every now and then,” he parrots, voice incredulous as if he’s heard the most insane thing ever, like he can’t believe it.
He increases the pressure on your clit harshly, causing you to buck against him, yelping in satisfied shock when he flicks your sensitive bud hard with his tongue.
“I’ll make you feel good, princess. Don’t you worry.” 
The nickname doesn’t have the effect as before. No, this time you moan in response, your guts churning with satisfaction at the prospect of being worshiped.
Slowly the two fingers on your clit slide into you, testing the waters, gauging if you’re okay, and your jaw slackens at the feel of the stretch. Fingering is an art, an act that requires patience and skill. You have to know the right pace, when to curl, how to know a woman’s body to determine what she wants. It’s glorious when it’s done right. 
And god, does Toji do it right.
He’s thorough and fluid in his strokes, using the tempo of your moans to curl at just the right time and sucking and licking your clit like he’s ravenous and your head is falling back into the space between your shoulder blades, eyes wide with disbelief as you stare at the ceiling. 
The fireworks are consistent outside, popping off every second and it’s loud enough that you have the courage to voice how Toji is making you feel. 
“Every now and then,” he hisses again to himself, angry and curling his fingers a little harder. You jerk against him, whimpering like a fool when you feel his tongue flick your clit harder as a reward. “He’s so fucking stupid. You taste so good, it’s unbelievable.”
He’s curling more now, brushing against that spongy wall that zings heat to your belly. Your insides churn, a molten heat popping to splatter against the base of your spine, pleasure coaxing you to reach that precipice that will let you fall apart. 
Vaguely you hear him whispering words into the skin of your thighs that you can’t decipher, the thrumming in your ears too loud to hear anything else beyond the fireworks outside, your escalating moans, and the obscene sounds of him slurping you up. The muscles in your thighs begin to tighten, your fingers are sweaty as they slide against the cool marble of the bathroom counter, and you dig your wedges into the muscles of his back, white panties dangling off one ankle. He’s so good, so thorough and your breath is hitching, choking on a moan.
“There you go princess, cum all over my fingers. Get me nice and messy.”
His deep words are accompanied by a sharp bend of his fingers and you’re cumming with a shout, rejoicing in the hot pleasure that puddles along your bones. It’s abrupt and overwhelming, pulling a sharp current down your body that makes your back arch until it bumps into the sink behind you. He’s groaning from his place between your legs, still pumping his fingers and licking your clit to collect as much of your slick as he can.
By the time you look down at him, you’re still catching your breath, your thighs tremble from the sudden chill injected into your muscles. You catch Toji just in time to watch him begin to slip his two dripping fingers into his mouth, but you snatch his wrist, riding off the high of your orgasm to slip his digits into your mouth instead. Thin rings of green widen in surprise and you savor the way his cheeks darken as you swirl your tongue around his digits.
“You’re unreal,” he gulps when you pop his fingers out of your mouth.
You shrug, not willing to show him just how powerful you feel, and wrap your legs around his waist, panties still caught on the buckle of one of your wedges. 
“I’m letting you be nice to me, remember? So what’s next?”
With a harsh pull, he stumbles closer to you, his hands slamming against the marble counter on either side of your waist. His breath hitches as you hastily undo his belt, eyes widening as he takes in the way you leer up at him. 
“You got me a drink, defended my honor from my bitchy aunt, asked me about my family, ate my pussy…you wanna fuck me now?”
“I—” he starts, caught off guard by your forwardness.
“You want to bend me over this counter, make me look in the mirror while I take your cock? Smack my ass and make me beg for you to fill me up?”
“You’ve got a mouth on you,” Toji chokes on a nervous laugh, hissing when your fingers graze the sensitive skin above his belt. 
“Is that a problem?”
The hair of his happy trail is faint and dark just like the hair on his head, and your touch makes his stomach bunch in sensation. He shakes his head in response and you want to laugh so bad at the sight of him struggling to swallow. You haven’t done anything to the man, but he’s sensitive to your touch, and that makes the blood in your veins sing.
“If you’re letting me have you, you can have it however you want.”
Arousal hums to life between your legs, and you can’t help but be turned on at how much he’s giving you. You want him now and while the prospect of being fucked over the counter was what you had hoped, if your family comes in and hears you taking it like a champ, you’ll never show your face again.
So when the door to your truck’s backseat closes, you’re climbing back on his lap, relaxing further into him with the knowledge that you can be as noisy as you want. Your uncle has a seven-month supply of fireworks and land in the middle of nowhere, Hennessey, and classics booming from his sound system… it’s going to be loud for a very long time. 
You’re running on your own current of desire at this point, pawing at his shirt so he can finally yank it off his shoulders and you’re drooling. He’s glorious and you don’t hesitate to rub your hands down firm pectorals, between the abs on his torso, and along the musculature of his Adonis belt. He’s cut like a marble statue, something that takes a painstaking process to hammer and smooth over until the result is almost—
“Let me take you out,” he suddenly suggests, voice gravelly with want but insistent.
Huh?
You’re immediately puzzled, eyebrows dipping into a furrow as you try to decipher his words. His hair is wild, black strands splintering and bushy but still giving you a gateway to his eyes and you see that he’s completely serious.
“On…a date?” A lift of his thin eyebrow in reply and the reality of him actually showing interest flags dangerously against your desire to ride him into oblivion. “Just the dopamine talking, I’m sure,” you say, hoping to dismiss the idea. You hadn’t expected him to actually…want to take you out. You can’t think about that right now because your head is too thick with hunger to try and have a conversation.
He hums, low and dangerous, a hand brushing the skin above your clit and you’re reminded of just how wet you still are from his sloppy tongue minutes before. 
“You’re the only one here that’s cum, princess. I’m being serious.”
“It’ll pass,” you reply immediately, licking into his mouth to shut him up.
Thankfully he doesn’t try to interject because you don’t have time to talk right now—you don’t want to. You don’t know Toji, not well enough. While tonight has been one of the most relaxed evenings you’ve spent with a man in a long time, you’re unsure if he genuinely wants you or if he’s merely carried away by the thrill of being with a woman.
He tried to come onto you the minute he laid eyes on you, tried to kiss you after a few hours, and pocketed your panties even though you pretended to be oblivious. You just don’t know. If you had a pretty girl in your lap, you would probably say the same things. Ask her on a date, make her feel wanted so she’s more giving when you slide her panties off.
It’ll pass.
And that’s what you tell yourself when you feel his large hands palm your ass beneath your sundress. You are teeth against him, nipping his tongue, biting the skin of his jaw, the meat of his neck, and the sharp groan that you pull from him in response makes you drip like a bitch in heat against his jeans.
“Take off your pants,” you whisper to him sharply, turning around and leaning over the center console to fish a condom from inside. You had discovered them months ago, and they should have been more than enough for you to dump your ex then.
“Shit,” you hear Toji hiss from behind you before your ass stings from his slap against it. You yelp, jumping from the contact and you hope he can see your cunt pulse from between your thighs in response. “Hurry up, baby.” 
When you face him again, you freeze, eyes widening at the sight of his cock. As you take him in, he snatches the condom from your hand and unfurls it on his cock.
Surprisingly trimmed with dark hair, he’s thick—not enough to be painful—but enough to enjoy the stretch so you can ride him until he flatlines and enjoy the ache in your thighs in the morning. It’s perfect; pale with a red tip that leaks into the tip of the condom, a vein along the side that you can’t lick without tasting latex. It’s a shame.  
He throws you that devilish smirk, eyes twinkling in pride before he taps his thigh and beckons you like the best ride at the carnival.
“Hop on, princess.”
Your fingers grip the hair at his nape when you feel him inside of you. It’s a delicious stretch that you have to breathe through, and the feel of his hands affectionately stroking your back catches you off guard. You don’t hate it; in fact, you want to lean into it, but you don’t want to give him any ammunition for something you aren’t sure about. So you slide down to the hilt and listen to Toji curse sharply through the sudden heat of you before you start a steady rhythm that throws him off.
Within seconds, you increase your pace, riding him with an intensity that makes the air in your throat catch and drag along the sides. He’s got a satisfying curve to him that grazes those magical spots within you to make the grip on his nape tighten like a vice. Your head is foggy with an overpowering mist that makes your mouth loose and your inhibitions low.
“You feel so good,” he whispers, pulling you out of the delirium you were basking in to focus on him. His jaw is relaxed, hot air puffing from between an open mouth and onto the skin of your neck, a few strands of his hair stick to his forehead and the sides of his cheeks and there’s a slight furrow to his thin eyebrows as if he’s trying to concentrate.
You’re giddy with desire. “Let me guess,” you tease, lips brushing against his. “Am I tight?”
“Yes,” he replies without hesitation, eyelids hooded and upper cheeks darkening with a blush that spreads down his neck.
“Am I nice and hot?”
“Yes, fuck yes, baby.” 
It’s meant to tease, because every man that has ever slid inside of you in the past says the same shit, but to hear it from him brings a strange sense of satisfaction that you find yourself slanting your lips against his. He still tastes like the yellow cake that you never got, but the flavor is intertwined with the remnants of your essence that still lingers on his tongue that dances with yours. 
You plant your knees harder into the seat on each side of him, use your muscles to bear down and give you more control, and then you roll your hips, guiding him in and out in a tantalizing dance that elicits groans from him and makes him roll his head back against the headrest.
“Let me take you out,” he gasps into the air and you refuse to answer him—you can’t. It’s harder now to believe his sincerity because he’s delirious with lust. “Answer me.”
You growl softly and yank your hands from his hair to push down the straps of your sundress. You’re not wearing a bra, and he cusses like he just stubbed his toe as he watches your breasts spill free.
“Stop talking,” you whisper and yank his head forward, beckoning him to you and he catches on quickly, licking and sucking a nipple before pulling it into his mouth. The sensation makes you shudder, a gentle pleasure that your cunt appreciates and you pick up your pace on him again. “Stop asking me. Just let me fuck you.”
He bites down in retaliation to pull a squeak from you and licks over the sting in a half-assed apology. When you look down, his gaze is illuminated by the streetlights, a harsh glare that showcases his annoyance with your deflection, but his eyes droop when you squeeze around him in response.
You’re stuffed full of him, stretching along the sides, punching the air out of your throat with each bounce on his cock and your legs begin to burn with the build-up of exertion. Your nipples are wet and sensitive against his taste buds as he teases each peak into his hot mouth and it helps to mix that pot of pleasure in your stomach to life again. 
You can feel it, like a crescendo of waves crashing against a dock, but the waves are coming in quicker and more turbulent with every moan and cry that falls from your lips. You push him off of your chest, dig your fingers into his shoulders for more leverage so you can ride his cock like you have nothing left to lose.
His chest is blooming red, covered in a light sheen of sweat that dips between his pectorals and pools in his collarbones. Your bun of braids came loose when he was eating you out in the bathroom, and now some are heavy on your skin with sweat and plaster over your shoulders and between your sternum and you’re hot and sweaty and trying so hard to reign it in. 
He doesn’t buck up into you and you’re unsure if it’s due to laziness or the fact that he simply wants to watch you while he brings himself closer to climax. You hope it’s the latter. 
“Do you like this?” you pant into his mouth and nip his bottom lip. “You can tell me, you know. Be a good boy and tell me just how I’m making you feel.”
He groans and lands another smack to your ass that makes you gasp and arch further into him. It's the right amount of pain that makes your pussy pulse in response, the right amount of manhandling that can take you higher in a second.
“You’re a natural, princess. You ever ride him like this?”
You shake your head and he smacks your ass again, harder this time and digs his fingertips into the flesh to let the sting linger. It's so good, and you can't help the whine that you puff against his lips as he smirks up at you with a proud disposition.
“He couldn’t handle it. Probably why he cheated wasn’t it? You were too much for him. You know how you like it and he couldn’t deliver.” 
You don’t answer him, but he’s right. He’s so right. He couldn’t stand it when you took control, hated when you asked him to do something that didn’t result in him being dominant, hated when he couldn’t even eat pussy without you having to ask. 
The feel of his fingers on your clit makes you jump and you poke your fingers into his nape again and pick up your pace, panting and moaning like you’re running a marathon as the pleasure rocks inside of you like a pendulum. 
“Oh god. Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you whisper, stomach burning.
You’re fluttering around him—pulsing and clenching and gushing over the thickest cock you’ve ever had and it’s glorious, you’re in fucking heaven.
The streetlight shines faintly into your truck, painting half of Toji’s face. He’s beautiful; that same annoying flicker of desire that captivated you when his green eyes met yours hours ago glimmers thin and dilated.
There’s a ruggedness to him that exudes masculinity, but glimpses into the depths of his eyes reveal a tender vulnerability that makes you wonder how soft he could be if he allowed you to get close enough.
The thought makes your cunt tighten around him, your thighs tense and fill with lactic acid and his fingers on your clit are unceasing, rubbing in a precise rhythm that makes you hiccup on a moan of incredulity. The hand not occupied with your clit is reclined across the headrest behind him and it makes him look unbearably sexy.
“I’ve never had a woman ride me like this,” he whispers, and you smile into his mouth, your kiss messy as you swallow down his compliment. He yanks you away and breathes that same insufferable ask against your lips.
“Let me take you out.” He rubs your clit faster, using the way you tighten around him as a guide to your pleasure, and his hand leaves the headrest to dig into the meat of your ass. “One chance. One dinner. I’ll give you what you deserve, whatever you want, princess. I promise just—”
“Stop it,” you whine and fight the burning sensation in your eyes. You’re so close, so fucking close and the storm inside of you is out of control but he won’t stop fucking talking. Won’t stop being so damn nice even though his cock is rearranging your guts in the nastiest way. You grip his hair and pull him closer to you so there’s no space between you to breathe. “Stop talking. Stop asking. Make yourself useful and make me cum.”
Thankfully he does. He scowls up at you behind the curtain of his hair but pinches your clit and you squeal, rolling your hips, riding him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. The windows have already fogged up, the truck rocks with your movements, and you are consumed with a blissful incoherence that forces you to surrender and let your walls crumble.
Your thighs burn, your dress clings to your sweaty body, and the stimulation on your clit becomes almost unbearable as you whine with the need to cum. He hisses loudly into the car, bares his teeth for a second, and then his eyes roll before he’s slack-jawed and panting into stuffy air, a current of groans beneath.
“That’s it, Toji,” you gasp, voice strained as you teeter on the brink of an orgasm that threatens to overwhelm you. “Be nice to me just like you said and give me everything like the good boy you are.”
The hand not on your clit slips against the sweat on your hips, and you lick up the side of his neck, savoring the salt taste of his perspiration on his smooth skin, just in time to hear him. It’s faint and low, practically a whisper but he chants--
‘Fuck yes, fuck yes. So fucking good. Ride me, sweetheart.’
It’s tilted in a whine, pathetically desperate, but the sound of him does the trick because the flick of his fingers on your clit makes the biggest wave of pleasure crash over you.
You don’t get the chance to tell him you’re cumming, you simply yank his head back from the sudden force, tilt your head up to the ceiling and cum with an exhausted and wrung out ‘fuck!’ that you’re sure your uncle’s neighbors will hear a mile down the road. You’re dumbfounded with pleasure, dizzy with it and your belly is hot and simmering as you gasp and whimper at just how good it feels. 
He’s laying you back on the seat before you can catch your breath. You’re still coming down, still moaning to catch up but his large hands are under your knees and bending them towards your chest to chase his own orgasm. The edge of the seat digs into the crevice of your spine, and your hand flies out to smack against the back of the driver’s seat so you don’t fall but it slips with sweat, is hard to hold onto and you can hardly focus with everything that’s going on. 
His mouth is on you, stealing your breath that you still can’t control, swallowing your moans as he fucks you with a ferocity that pulls your soul from your body. He pulls away with a deep moan and stares down at you with a look that makes you anxious—like he wants to see you again, like he wants to come to another cookout with your rowdy family if it means he can bother you some more—like he really likes you. 
You know he’s going to try and say something that you may not be able to talk yourself out of, so you take the intense furrow in his eyebrows and the stuttering of his hips as a cue.
“You gonna cum?” you purr up at him, moaning weakly from the harsh thrusts that stroke you into overstimulation.
“Yes,” he answers without fail, eyes locked on yours. “Yes, I’m gonna cum. Fuck—”
Reaching up, you cup his cheek, unsure why but feeling an inexplicable need, and the words that fall from your lips help him across the finish line. 
“Cum inside me, Toji. Take what you want and fill me up.”
His eyes widen before they roll closed and he’s slamming against you three times hard and rough before the deepest moan you’ve ever heard slips past his lips. He pants heavily stuttering tiny thrusts into you as he comes down, the tips of his hair drip a few drops of sweat onto your neck before he lowers himself to rest on top of you. He’s too big for the seat and his knee digs into the floor of the truck to maintain his balance. His hot breath washes over your neck, slowly calming down, and in your daze, you realize that you’re holding onto his shoulders. 
The hard lines of Toji that you noted when you first saw him now feel gentle against you.
He rumbles your name into your neck and you’re cutting him off before the dopamine can speak for him. 
“We should get back inside before someone finally notices that we’ve been gone.” He abruptly lifts to look down at you, annoyance etched on his devastatingly handsome face. He wants to argue, you can taste it, but your fear wins. “My bitchy aunt has been at me all night, the last thing I need is her snooping.”
He’s quiet still, the edge of his lips curling into a dissatisfied frown. It stretches his scar in a way that takes away from the beauty of his face. Makes him look more alien and you have to pull your gaze from him. But he doesn’t argue like you think he would. He doesn’t speak or try to talk back or voice how annoyed he is.
He slowly pulls out of you and you immediately miss the feeling, ties off the condom, and pulls you up tenderly from the seat. Your skin is sticky and the truck reeks of sex. The high has worn off and all that remains is the overwhelming unease that rises like bile in the back of your throat. 
When you both are finally dressed and creeping out of the backseat, the cool air is a welcome feel to your overheated skin. It washes away your trepidation, if only for a moment. Toji looms over you, tall like a bear that you desperately want to sink your embrace back into, but he still doesn’t speak, and the crease of annoyance between his brows doesn’t leave. He should hold onto it. It will help him get over you. 
“Do you mind getting my purse from inside the house? I don’t want to go back inside just yet and I need to check my phone.”
Impatience emanates from his every pore, yet you can sense his anxiety as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. But he still doesn’t fight and makes his way back inside without a word.
You lied.
Your purse is in the front seat of your car—you threw it up there when you both snuck into the vehicle in the first place, but his attention was too busy trying to feel you up than pay attention to the satchel hanging off your shoulder. 
Once you see the front door close, you get into the front seat, start your car, and drive away without a second thought. Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as the temptation to turn back tugs at you. 
It may not be right to leave without saying goodbye, and lying to him has left a bitter taste in your mouth. Your family is too occupied with the fireworks and each other’s company to really notice your absence anyway, and you’re sure they’ll have no problem trying to distract Toji when he realizes that you’re gone. 
The grip on the wheel doesn’t lessen, but you roll down the windows and let the evening July air wash away some of the sex that still lingers on the seats.
***
“So you did fuck him,” your cousin snickers over the speaker of your phone a week later. 
It’s a Saturday night and you’re knee-deep in your wash day routine. It took you all day to take out your braids and the clear shower cap on your head traps the deep conditioner inside. You wipe away some of the excess near your ear.
You have Chinese waiting to be delivered, and you’re ready to finish your routine so you can go to bed. Your eyes are glued to your television playing some sort of nature documentary but your attention is elsewhere, specifically on trying to worm your way out of this conversation with your cousin. She’s called you every single day since the 4th and she’s done nothing but make you feel guilty about your abrupt departure. 
As you expected, your family didn’t really notice your absence. But when Toji asked your cousin for your purse and then realized you had lied, he sulked in a lawn chair for the rest of the night before Shiu drove him home.
“Yes, I fucked him. So what?”
“Soooo do something about it. Fuck him again? He lives in the same city as you and is here indefinitely. Make a move—”
“It was a nice night, but he was already trying to flirt with me as soon as he saw me and I still entertained him and fucked him and—I shouldn’t have done that…I should have waited, maybe tested the waters more. He only tried to ask me out because he was horny as hell.”
She’s quiet on the other line, and you look up at the ceiling in exasperation because you can feel her annoying logic rev up before she fires away.
“So you’re just scared? Your ex cheated on you because he was a spineless pissy boy who slithered away because you didn’t take his shit. That’s not a reflection of you, at all. I know you like to have it all figured out before you make a decision, but not everything works out that way. Toji saw a fine ass black woman who talks her shit and he made a move. He’s a nice guy...a little rough around the edges, but truly…a nice guy. Someone for you.”
James Attenborough elegantly voices something about the cuttlefish on the screen while you try to contemplate what to say. She’s right. You hate that she’s right. It’s why you two are so close but still you retort in the best way you know how.
“Girl, fuck you.”
Her raucous laugh vibrates over the speaker in delight and you snort and roll your eyes when the doorbell cuts you off. The prospect of your Chinese food makes your mouth water and you’re rushing to the door.
Only it’s not your Chinese food at the doorstep, it’s Toji Fushiguro. Toji Fushiguro who is protected from the rain under the overhang of your apartment door with one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other clutching a container. The annoyed look that you last saw on his face is gone, replaced by a neutral and bored look that seems natural for him, even though his eyes don’t convey that specific emotion. Those green eyes are reminiscent of your uncle’s well-maintained lawn as they look down at you with a nervous glint. 
“Toji,” you breathe in disbelief. “How did you get my address…”
Your cousin squawks on the other line and swallows a giggle. “I’m gonna go—”
“Your cousin finally gave it to me.,” he replies simply and gestures down to the phone in your tight grip. “I’ve been trying to get it since you fucking left.”
“Damn, thanks?!” she barks at him. “Lemme get out of here, I’m getting another call anyway. Bye!”
You’re going to kill her. Slowly. Painfully and maybe in front of Shiu to get a few tears out of him if you’re feeling particularly evil. 
You know she’s right about Toji, but you can’t do this. You shouldn’t have fucked him in the first place and you should have thought of a backup plan on the off chance that your cousin was going to be annoying and nosy as hell.
You ignore his intense and heavy gaze, shifting in discomfort, scratch the back of your neck, and blanch in horror when your fingers brush the edge of your shower cap. You’re wearing a large t-shirt, your feet are bare and your head is covered in a shower cap with deep conditioner leaking from the sides; a stark contrast from the calm and collected woman who snapped at him all day a week ago. Mortification washes over you in a heavy wave, drowning your mantra of not giving a fuck about a man’s opinion, and you step back to grab the door.
“Listen…I’m waiting for food and then I have to get ready for work in the morning. So you need—”
“You have time to spare then,” he cuts off and walks past you. You round on him, indignant in your gaze.
“Have you lost your fucking mind?! Get out, Toji!”
“You want me to leave? Hmm?” he asks, goading you like you don’t know if you’re sure.
You’re not sure, but—“Yes, goddammit! I shouldn’t have left but I don’t do this sort of thing! The moment you met me, you only wanted to get in my pants. And that makes you trying to ask me out while your cock is inside of me, a lot harder to believe!”
He firmly places the container in his hands on your kitchen counter, takes a deep breath to calm himself, and gives you a look that either makes you want to melt into him or slap it off his face.
“Listen—”
You’re on the defensive now, backed into a corner and ready to pull every card you have to just make him go away. “You here for a quick fuck then? Because you got me to let my guard down and because we had such a steamy time in the backseat of my truck, you thought, what? You could just show up and bend me over my couch?”
That flicker of irritation is back on his face and it crinkles the edges of his eyes, makes him look nasty and hostile.
“Fuck, will you stop—”
“Wanna have a little ‘situationship’ while you get acquainted with your new life here? Have me get nice and comfortable and as soon as I ask for something more, you’re jumping ship. Sounds like a good plan, doesn’t it?”
A sharp growl leaves his throat and he glares.
“Girl—” he starts and immediately stops, eyes wide as saucers at the venomous gaze that you shoot his way. There it is, a hint of a name to make you feel small and insignificant. It reminds you of your parents when you used to talk back and they slid the name to you in a warning to stop talking. You hate it and it stings that you have to hear it from him.
“Get out,” you bark, seething with a rage that brings a sting to your eyes. 
He throws up his hands in frustration, looming like a bear from his place in your kitchen. “Will you just stop it!”
“I said—”
“Oh my fucking god—I like you!” 
His admission catches you off guard, cutting through your anger, and you stare at him in astonishment. His face is red with embarrassment, eyes trained up at the ceiling as if asking the gods to give him patience. He takes a deep breath before meeting your gaze from across the kitchen.
“You don’t do this sort of thing?” he asks, gesturing between the two of you. You can’t find the words to respond, still too shocked, so you simply nod. 
“What sort of thing is that? Flirting with you because you looked like the sexiest little thing in that backyard and I wanted your attention?” He’s annoyed, deep voice razor sharp as he speaks, but you don’t miss the step he takes closer to you.
“Me trying to make you feel better because your family is judgmental? Teaching me about the food you like because I’m not from here?”
He’s closer now and the air is thin again just like that night a week ago.
“Helping me win that little card game?” It’s spades, but you’re too lightheaded with how close he is to correct him. “Telling me about your family? What sort of thing is that? Hmm? Tell me.” 
You don’t have a retort. You’re too stunned to speak even though you refuse to let the annoyed expression on your face vanish. You want to hold onto what little shreds of defiance you have left.
“You aren’t mean. You don’t tolerate bullshit, you don’t fuck around, and you put people in their place. You refuse to settle for less, and I already told you that’s what I like in a woman…And I like you.”
What do you even say? You never expected to see him again, and your mind is muddled as if you’re submerged in water. Your heart feels too big in your chest, your body too hot and sweaty and you’re nervous. He’s angry with his confession, almost annoyed and you’re beginning to realize that it is an emotion that’s second nature to him even if it’s not as intense as you think it is. 
“Is that right?” you can’t help but test him, lifting a brow. You have to crane your neck just a little to look up at him.
He scoffs, the crease in his eyebrows smooths out and the scar on his lips twitches. 
“Yea, that's fucking right. So…” he takes one more step closer and his body is brushing against yours. He smells mildly of toothpaste and bergamot from another brand of cheap cologne and the combination makes you weak in the knees. “Let me take you out.”
It’s the same demand that you’ve heard so many times now, but this time, it feels more serious, more meaningful with a hint of desperation. In the kitchen light, you can see just how silky his raven locks are and you grip your phone and the fabric of your t-shirt to resist the urge to run your hands through them. 
“I’m listening,” you jest with a practiced air.
That wicked smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth, scar adding a devilish flair to his features, and your stomach burns with the realization that he’s too cocky for his own good, and you’ve unfortunately grown to like it. 
“Shiu has tickets for something here called…football? He’s taking your cousin and has two extra tickets. Come with me and show me how to win.”
You can’t help the snort that leaves your mouth and your stomach flips at the genuine confusion on his face. “We don’t participate in the game. We watch it. But it’s fun.”
“All the more reason for you to come with me.”
“I…”
It’s a compelling argument, all of it is. And you want to, you really want to give this a shot and just be vulnerable for once. Because Toji seems like the kind of man who would let you be just who you are and would never make you feel lesser than about it. 
The feel of his large hands cupping your cheeks pulls you out of your thoughts, and he tilts your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes are mesmerizing, like the color of pine trees right before the sun sets and you feel yourself weakening completely.
“One date, princess.”
The deep timbre of his voice does little to help you and it’s worse because it’s just how he fucking talks. You’re not a royal, and you don’t have land, lots of money, or power, but you can tolerate ‘princess’ if it’s coming from his mouth. 
Just one date. You deserve it. You’ve earned the reward.
You wave away his hands from your face just so you can breathe a little easier. He chuckles but gives you your space, and makes his way to the door that you usher him towards. 
“Fine. Make sure you bring cash because it’s easier at the concession stands. I want a pretzel…and a hot dog.”
He snickers as he pulls his hood over his head, obscuring most of his face except for the ethereal glow of his eyes. His teeth shine from his bright smile and you roll your eyes in response before watching him open your door. 
“Toji?” you call, your voice softer…apprehensive.
He turns around to watch you shuffle to him, your feet and legs cold against the chill from the open door. You hand him your phone wordlessly and he takes the hint to insert his number. When he’s finished, you open your mouth to speak, lips shaping words that won’t come out—words you want to say. But you can’t. Not yet. Maybe one day.
For now, you throw him an annoyed eyebrow lift and grumble. “Parking is a real bitch, so pick me up early.”
You avert your gaze, frustrated at yourself for sounding so mean as usual. Because that’s just who you are. The bitter, mean—
A finger beneath your chin lifts your gaze to him and he kisses you full on the mouth, slow and reassuring, minty breath sliding into your mouth when he nips your bottom lip. The self-deprecating voice in your head finally quiets, smothered by a pillow held down by his scarred hands.
When he pulls away, that stupid smirk is on his face, but it’s not as teasing, and your heart does something weird in your chest that makes you swallow hard.
“Yes ma’am,” he replies finally to your demand.
You watch his eyes take in your form from head to toe before he kisses you quickly once more and ducks into the rain.
When you finally get your Chinese and place it on the counter to dig in, your eyes land on the container that was in Toji’s hands from earlier. 
You peek inside, and your heart does that weird thing again in your chest when you see a heaping slice of the yellow cake that you never got to have a week ago.
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Thanks for reading! You can find the sequel here!
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alessiasfreckles · 2 months
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amnesia - part 4 (ona batlle x reader, alexia putellas x reader)
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part 1 / part 2 / part 3
warnings: none!
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“Well, what’s the story of our friendship? Is there anything I should know about there? Any drama that happened, any secrets? Please, no more secrets,” you said with a wry smile. 
Alexia took a deep breath.
“We became friends pretty quickly, when you moved to Barcelona. You’re a very easy person to be friends with, an easy person to like,” Alexia said. “You spent a lot of time with me, and a lot of time with Ona. At the start, I… I was jealous, actually.”
“Of me?” you asked.
She shrugged. “Maybe? Of Ona, of both of you, I think.”
“Why?”
She took a breath, picking at her nails. “Like I said, you’re a very easy person to like. You’re very pretty, you’re amazing on the pitch, you’re kind and funny.”
Her words hung in the air for a minute. 
“You liked me? As in, romantically?” you asked, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Si,” she said, looking down at her hands. Her cheeks were pink.
“Your hair- it used to be pink, right?” you said suddenly, images of a pink ponytail flashing to mind.
“I- si, did you remember?” she asked, looking up at you. 
“Yeah,” you smiled. “Um, do you still like me? Like that?”
Alexia shrugged noncommittally, not meeting your eye, then sighed. “Si - but nothing has to change. I do not want anything to change between us. We are very good friends, I would never want to lose that.”
“Okay, then. Nothing will change,” you agreed. “Although, I don’t really remember much about what it was like before, so for all I know this could be entirely different to how things used to be. It’s kind of weird, not really knowing what I’m like or what my life was like. Really weird, actually.”
Alexia, who had been quiet since her admission, brightened up. “I have an idea!” she said, sitting up straight. “What if I show you what your life was like before? I can take you to your favourite places, show you what you usually would do!”
“That sounds great!” 
“It will have to be after training,” she said, frowning. “Will you be okay during the day on your own?”
You waved her off. “I’ll manage. It’ll give me time to go through everything here, try to remember more.”
By the time Alexia left for the night (after repeatedly asking if you were sure that you’d be okay on your own, and if you needed anything to call her, or anyone else from the team), you were exhausted, both physically and mentally. Despite how tired you were, getting into what was supposedly your own bed felt wrong, and you spent the night twisting and turning, unable to get comfortable.
Still, waking up and seeing something other than the hospital walls felt like a step in the right direction. You spent the morning going through everything you could find in your apartment that could give you clues about who you were. A journal from when you’d first moved to Barcelona (that you’d only managed to write three entries in before giving up) described your first days with the team, how nervous you’d been and how welcomed Alexia made you feel, and how you were so intimidated by Ona and how attractive she was but that she was so friendly to you, immediately putting you at ease. A paragraph about Alexia made you pause, the way you had written almost made it sound like you had a crush on her, the way you described her, raving about how good she was at football, how nice she was, how pretty. It was followed by another paragraph about Ona, and how amazing she was, and you rolled your eyes at your past self.
Reading about Ona felt weird, and you put the journal back, trying to push the thoughts of her out of your mind. Still, when you got hungry you were reminded of her once again, the fridge full of food that she had prepared for you. You pulled a covered bowl out to find a handwritten note on top, telling you what food was inside, with a smiley face and a heart. You told yourself that the funny feeling in your stomach was purely due to being hungry, nothing else, but you carefully left the note on the counter, not wanting to throw it away. 
By the time Alexia arrived you were starting to feel a little stir crazy, your leg making it hard to move around. 
“I’m so glad you’re here,” you told her as you opened the door.
“Hello to you, too,” she laughed. 
“Yes, hi. I miss going outside, and I’m all ready for our trip!” you told her, waving your crutches in the air.
“Woah, okay, I can see that!” she ducked as you waved your crutches a little too close to her head. “Okay, the first place we are going to go is a café nearby. It is your favourite. Usually you walk but I think we will drive.”
“I guess that makes sense,” you said, slumping a little. You’d been looking forward to moving a little, your body feeling tense from inactivity. “You’re too sensible.”
“Thank you,” she nodded, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards as she suppressed a smile. 
It didn’t take long for you to arrive at the café. You took a deep breath as you hobbled inside, and the smell of coffee and fresh pastries filling your lungs. It instantly felt familiar, and you were drawn to a seat by the window. 
Alexia watched as you moved to sit down, smiling. “That’s your favourite spot. You always sit there.”
“Yeah,” you said. “I like to watch the people going past.”
She raised an eyebrow, and you cocked your head, then realised what you’d said. “Huh. I don’t know where that came from, but it feels right.”
You watched Alexia as she ordered at the counter, thinking about what she’d told you last night. You weren’t sure how to feel - remembering her words made your stomach flutter, but you weren’t sure why. When she sat down, a drink for each of you and a pastry on a plate, you felt a sudden wave of emotion. 
“This is my favourite, right? This is what I always get,” you asked, and she nodded, smiling shyly. “You remembered?”
“Of course, chiqui,” she said. 
As you ate, you talked about football, which seemed like a safe topic. Your mind kept wandering though, thinking about the way that Alexia had known where to take you. She knew your favourite café, your usual order, she had known all the right things to say to you. You felt your cheeks warming up as you realised how much she cared about you, your old journal entry coming to mind, and you caught yourself wondering why nothing had ever happened between you.
“You seem distracted,” Alexia said, interrupting your stream of consciousness. “What are you thinking about?”
“Oh, uh, not much,” you quickly said. “Just about training, when I’ll be able to go back.”
“Ah,” she said, frowning. “I am not sure. Maybe you can ask the doctor on Friday?”
You nodded, your cheeks still pink. As you reached for your drink, your phone vibrated on the table. 
[Ona:] Please can we meet, and talk? Tomorrow?
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merakiui · 17 days
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ex-husband floyd thoughts...
in which you're living alone with your daughter. it's been two years since everything, and you're all settled. it took a while to truly feel secure and stable, and you received lots of help from family and friends. surprisingly (or maybe not), floyd's twin brother was one of the first to extend a helping hand. it's mostly thanks to him that you were able to have enough money to pay the first few months of rent at your new apartment. but now you're back on your feet, and things have never been better.
your daughter didn't understand it when you told her she'd be living with you from now on. awkwardly, you tried to explain that papa couldn't come with because he was getting involved with some bad people, and that was dangerous. your daughter didn't understand or believe you. it was difficult. you know how much she adored her papa and how much he adored her. but this is for the best. this is safe.
following the divorce, your daughter started saying strange things. things like "i saw papa today and he made me a yummy lunch!" you tell her this can't be; that was the babysitter, not floyd. besides, the dishes are clean and everything is stocked as it normally is. there's no evidence floyd could have been here. furthermore, he doesn't even have a key and your daughter isn't tall enough to reach the doorknob to let him in. your daughter calls you a liar and storms off most days because you refuse to believe her stories. that's all they are, really. she's just missing her papa.
you told floyd you had no problems letting him see her so long as he cleaned up his act and stopped getting involved with delinquents. seeing as it's been two years and floyd's still running from people, you (as a parent) have a responsibility to keep your daughter safe. and you know it's terrible for her and floyd, but this is the best option you can think of. the safest option.
floyd thinks that's bullshit because he can protect you and his daughter plenty, but then he gets it. you never liked the shadows that accompanied his surname. he understands. but he thinks it's awfully unfair of you to just cut him out of your life when he promised you he'd change and do better and be better. :/
he sees how hard you work, how rough it gets when you haven't been paid yet. he has jade send you money because he knows you don't want to see him, and most of the time you accept it. but sometimes it's sent back, accompanied with a note thanking him for his generosity and that you can manage by yourself. again, floyd knows this is bullshit.
his shrimpy works so hard. :( you deserve a break.
so when you're sleeping every night, he pays your apartment a visit. you've started sleeping on the couch most nights, with the tv still on, your work spread out on the coffee table, your daughter tucked away in her bed... it's hard being a single parent, isn't it? why don't you stop being stubborn and let him back into your life? floyd will take good care of you. he always has, hasn't he?
he carries you to bed and tucks you in, cleans up the room, stacks your books, prepares a meal for you to heat up tomorrow at work, etc. and how do you respond to his kindness? you go and change the locks without saying anything.
so next time floyd thinks he has no choice but to be drastic. so next time floyd will make sure you understand that there is no life worth living if it's not you and him together. as a pair. as a whole. you might be frightened when he wakes you up in the middle of the night to drag you back to his home (to your home) and you might continue to be scared of him when he confines you to the basement, but this is for your own good. think of your daughter! she deserves to grow up with both parents. at the very least, be good for her sake.
floyd tells your daughter that you're in perpetual timeout because you've been bad and she believes him. after all, it was you who refused to let her spend more time with her papa. that's a very bad thing to do!
floyd brings you your meals, carries you to the bath, bathes you, dresses you... you scowl at him the entire time, call him crazy, tell him to get away from your daughter, refuse to eat, fight him every time he tries to undress you for the bath. he smiles, eerily patient, and simply says, "i'm willing to letcha see her once you've cleaned up your act. you can do that, can'tcha?"
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messiahzzz · 6 months
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i have been thinking a lot about mystra’s relationship with gale, how reducing her to “his ex” really is an understatement. she was and still is so much more than that. moreover, using the term “ex-girlfriend” in relation to her plainly feels wrong and diminishes the influence she has over him, as well as the role she played in his life since his childhood (and it also trivializes the abuse he suffered through her).
there are several instances where gale gets defensive when his companions mention or ask him abt mystra. he claims that their relationship was no less real even though most of their interactions were incorporeal.
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we have already established that gale is an unreliable narrator in this particular case, still not having fully come to terms with the fact that he was groomed, manipulated and abused. he ping-pongs between bouts of realization (even in his romance), gaining clarity that he was merely used and eventually discarded and that mystra never truly cared for him, back to making light of his situation, idealizing her once again. realizing the extent of his trauma, that he is indeed a victim in this scenario, unlearning what he has been made to believe from a young age is a slow and painful journey. he is in the process of healing, but it takes time. time he deserves just like anyone else.
which makes me wonder what their relationship really looked like, once the lines between teacher, muse, and lover began to blur. i also feel like one of the reasons why part of the fandom still struggles to identify mystra as his abuser, is because she is a white woman who initially presents herself in a soft-spoken, benevolent manner… and well, the fact that gale himself is ambitious to a fault and a lil insane about the promise of power. he also briefly mentions "crossing mystra’s boundaries” when he confides in tav and tells them about his folly. (“i am, after all, the villain in this story.”) which led to a looooot of misinterpretations.
leaving the overall lore and mystra’s treatment of her other chosen aside — what we can discern from her interactions with gale in-game, is that mystra is civil as long as she remains in control and gale follows her demands, but as soon as there’s even a slight mention of challenging her power or defying her rule, she rather quickly changes her tone.
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there is also one particular exchange between them that just won’t leave my head:
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“you were many things to me, but never a threat. and never a savior."
even if we choose to blatantly ignore the fact that mystra is a deity, his goddess - there is no possible way that their relationship ever could have been equal by any mortal standards. the power imbalance that comes with her being his teacher and a symbol of his admiration, plus the sheer control she holds over him and his powers are simply too great. don’t even let me get started on how it is a common tactic of abusers to isolate their victims from any outside influences so they can exert full control over them. and how up to meeting tav and their merry band of misfits, every single soul he was close to was inevitably tied to mystra in one way or another. he briefly mentions his colleagues and then there’s elminster, also mystra’s chosen and former lover, and tara, who is a fine wizard in her own right. he spend so many years in service of her, dedicating his life to her, that now there is no one left he can truly call a friend. most of his little anecdotes and stories he tells are restricted to his childhood and university days, everything else was mystra.
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evidently, ordering gale to detonate the orb is the most efficient course of action in her eyes. he is just as expendable as any other mortal, after all. maybe once significantly more useful given his status and the extent of his powers, but she doesn’t feel sorrow nor remorse for ordering him to end his life. his death is simply the most convenient means to an end.
another thing i would also like to briefly touch upon is the trigger/detonator itself. a dagger to the heart. it could have been literally anything else, a simple incantation. it is well within mystra’s power to stabilize the orb and also to remove it from his body entirely. but no, what she requires of gale is to stab himself. one might argue that it was simply a cinematic choice meant for a more dramatic effect, but it really leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. especially considering the fact that she is commonly known and referred to as a jealous goddess. it almost makes it seem like yet another form of punishment or mere pettiness. after his long period of isolation, gale is now surrounded by fellow humans. people he cares about, even perhaps people he might eventually consider good friends — which is enough of a reason for him to not want to die, to keep going and try to find another way, rather than to blindly follow mystra’s bidding. now there’s a group of people who support him and are genuinely invested in him staying alive. hmmm...
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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months
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Hi, hope you're alright. I came up with a story idea: the reader is married to Gasly's/Daniel's close friend but their marriage is hanging by a thread. The driver invites her to a few races so she can change the environment, they spend some time together and unexpectedly become lovers. And maybe later her husband is trying to fix their marriage but she and the driver can't stop thinking about each other
His Best Man || DR3
A/N: I took some creative liberties with the plot but I think it does this request justice 💕 ps: never condone cheating, it's horrible and this is purely fictional
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, alcohol, cheating, smut WC: 7.6k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Daniel’s Reaction
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Dinner with James was a quiet affair, though it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Why would your anniversary be any different when his indifference was the only constant at this point?
You watched as he smiled at his phone, something you hadn’t been able to elicit from him in months, before he locked the device and placed it facedown on the table. The sigh that wanted to exhale from your flared nostrils barely remained silent as you focused on shifting the food around your plate, your appetite gone like the connection to your husband. 
“Daniel sent us some passes to the race in Melbourne next month. I thought we could go, make a little holiday out of it?” 
There was no excitement in your tone, it was more a question borne out of politeness because he would have seen the paddock passes sitting on the kitchen side if he ever looked away from his phone. The blasted device vibrated again and his fork clattered on his plate in his rush to read the incoming message. 
“Well?” you asked as his thumbs flew across his screen. 
“Can’t. Work project is going to keep me busy until the deadline,” he answered without looking up. “Take one of your friends, have a girls trip.”
Friends…those people you never saw anymore because James hadn’t liked them, though he never outright said it, those friends who had warned you that you were marrying a narcissist. 
“It’s our anniversary,” you reminded him. “You know, falls on the same day each year.”
“Mhmm, yeah,” he nodded, clearly not listening. “Sounds good.”
You propped your elbow onto the glass tabletop and dropped your chin onto your palm as a familiar burn of resentment simmered in your soul. “The mailman gave me a pearl necklace.”
“That’s nice. Put it on my credit card.” He reached into his back pocket and tossed his wallet across the table, narrowly missing the glass of rosé. 
You opened it and saw the polaroid from your wedding day no longer sat in the clear card slot but was stuffed behind his drivers licence. You shouldn’t have felt hurt after months of being ignored but the pain still surprised you, almost as much as the condom that you found with his cash. He hadn’t bought a box of condoms in at least three years, not since the wedding when you started trying for a baby - something that was probably best that it didn't happen.
“He must eat a lot of pineapples because it tasted delicious,” you murmured as you took his cash and the platinum credit card too.
James nodded and pushed his empty plate away. “Yeah, tasted good, thanks. Need to finish this project.” He rose from the table with his phone and started to make his way down the hall to his office. “Don’t wait up.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.” You had a trip to plan. 
You weren’t going to have a girls weekend but you were going to Melbourne. He may have been James’ friend first, but no one had the ability to turn a bad day (or year) around like Daniel could. 
When you arrived in Perth you hadn’t expected Danny to be the one personally waiting at the airport. It was impossible to miss him with the amount of people that surrounded him, asking for pictures and autographs before he spotted you stepping out of customs. 
You didn’t need to read lips to see him apologising to everyone as he made his way towards you, holding up a large welcome sign for ‘Roo’. You rolled your eyes at the nickname he had given you after one drunken night that ended with you tangled in a hammock, your head poking out of the material like a joey in a kangaroo pouch. You were only grateful he hadn’t nicknamed you Joey since the name had stuck over the years.
Your greeting turned to a peal of laughter as he dropped the sign and swept you into a hug that lifted your feet off the ground to spin you around. 
“I’ve missed you, you beaut!” Danny’s smile was contagious and even when your feet were securely back on the ground he still kept his arms around you. “A shame James can’t come, but we can totally make his jealous as fuck for ditching us. One week, you, me, road trip to Melbourne.”
Day One - Perth to Kalgoorlie “I hope you know where we are going.”
Daniel laughed and just winked from the driver's seat of his Ford Ranger. It had been three hours of driving on the highway and you had not passed one town in the dusty landscape. 
“It’s not far, just down the road a little more,” Danny said for the third time. “We still have half a tank of gas and a crate of Vitamin B, we’ll be fine if we need to camp.”
You quirked an eyebrow up as you looked in the backseat and saw the green box of Victoria Bitter beer strapped with a seatbelt.
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to camp anywhere,” you scoffed, tucking your knee up as the song changed to another country song from his endless playlist. “Spiders, snakes, dingoes, and your snoring. I think not.”
Daniel laughed and indicated to pull off the road despite there not being another soul within what felt like hundreds of kilometres. 
“I’m sorry I said you snore, please don’t leave me here.”
His laugh only intensified as he turned the engine off and turned to face you. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Roo.”
“Then why have you stopped?” You tested the window but it had powered off with the engine. “It’s a freaking sauna in here.”
“Because you haven’t been yourself all day and there’s no cell reception out here so there’s nothing to distract you.” He took the useless device from your hand and tossed it in the glove compartment. “What’s going on with you and James?”
“Nothing,” you muttered as his brown eyes narrowed. “Seriously, there’s nothing going on with him. We hardly speak anymore and he sleeps in his office when he’s not out of town on another ‘business trip’. It’s just…nothing.”
Daniel’s brows pinched together in confusion as he sucked a lungful of air through his teeth. “But…what the hell happened?”
“I don’t know,” you exclaimed as you threw your hands in the air, just as clueless. “What do you want me to say? That he’s having an affair, or that one day he just stopped caring, or both?”
You turned away as it wasn’t a bead of sweat that rolled down your cheek when you sighed in defeat. Unable to withstand the heat without the air conditioner, you tugged the door handle and checked the dirt for any unwanted animals before jumping down from the running boards. 
Daniel was already getting out his side and circling the bullbars before you could wipe the tears away but the sob you had tried to suppress clawed its way out when he pulled you against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured softly as he rubbed your back and let your tears soak into his shirt. “He can be a bit of a cunt, but I never thought he could do that to you.”
“He did and it’s done,” you admitted with a raspy voice that was still strained from the emotion choking each word. “I moved my stuff out last week, not that he even noticed. I thought I could have a break to get away from it all and deal with a divorce when I get back.”
“That fucking idiot,” Daniel said as he pulled his shirt up to wipe your tears away. “He just lost the best thing in the world and he doesn’t even know it.”
Day Two - Kalgoorlie to Caiguna It was another long day of driving but after the broken sleep spent tossing and turning you weren’t much of a companion. You had eventually drifted off to sleep to the country music that Daniel loved so much and dreamt of crawling through fields of watermelons but the paddock soon turned to mud and you sank under the suffocating weight with it filling your lungs. 
“Hey, it’s alright, you’re alright,” Danny soothed as you startled awake, his quick reflexes throwing his arm out to catch you from hitting the window. You could still feel the filthy fluid on your skin and shivered as you changed the song over and took a shuddering breath. “Bad dream?”
You rolled your shoulders and twisted your stiff neck, groaning at the crick that had come from using the seatbelt as a pillow. “Just weird.”
His eyes darted away from the endless road ahead and saw you trying to massage your neck before he brushed your hand aside. There certainly were perks to his strength training because his fingers were a godsend as they erased the knots that had formed.
“Hmmm, thank you,” you sighed deeply and his lips tipped up at the sound.
“Anytime. Hope you got the rest you needed, there’s a stop ahead and these guys know how to throw down.”
You narrowed your eyes at the horizon that was blurred by heatwaves and tried to see what lay beyond but gave up after a few seconds. “Throw down what?”
“Huh?”
“What are they throwing down?”
“Throw down,” he said slowly as if it would somehow make you understand but you were still confused. “Party, drink, dance. Throw down.”
“Oh, throw down, why didn’t you just say that?”
He laughed at your sarcasm and squeezed your knee. “You could definitely do with a drink or two and loosen up. Then I can get my old Roo back.”
“As long as I’m not expected to sleep in a hammock again.”
The motel was a little rough and run down but it had four walls and the bathroom was clean enough to last one night. Daniel had barely given you enough time to get changed into fresh clothes before he was knocking on your door ready to escort you next door to the bar. Coincidentally, the bar was also the restaurant, service station and grocery store all rolled into one.
You and Danny were by far the youngest people in the place but it didn’t stop the warm welcome from everyone. If any of the patrons knew who he was they hid it well because they treated him just like any other stranger passing through.
“Where ya from?”
“Where ya headed?”
“Watch out for ol’ Deloris, she’ll try take a bite out of ya.”
The questions came in quick succession and you looked around the room trying to figure out which of the ladies was Deloris only to find the name on a plaque beneath a huge crocodile head suspended from the rafters.
“Fuck me,” you gasped as you took a step back, bumping into Danny as he laughed along with the bartender.
“Gets ‘em every time,” he chuckled as he placed two large bottles of beer onto the well worn bartop. “Looks like ya sheila could use something a little stronger.”
Daniel’s large hands landed on your shoulders and started to massage the tense muscles. “There’s no crocs ‘round here, isn’t enough water,” he whispered to calm your nerves. “Deloris was probably a pet.”
“Who in their right mind would keep that as a pet?”
“Probably someone not in their right mind.” His warm laugh tickled your ear before he turned you back to the bartender to grab your drink. “Cheers.”
Daniel found a small table in the surprisingly busy restaurant space and it appeared as if most of the locals were keeping the economy running in the place. It was strange to think that the faded walls decorated with old photographs of the glory days gone by felt more homely than the one you had built with James.
You could easily see yourself placing a coin on the pool table to save your place in the queue or ordering the fresh market fish off the menu without questioning how it was fresh so far from the sea. You could see yourself walking in to see the same faces at the end of a long week and the barman would listen to your complaints as he poured your usual without needing to be asked.
You took a generous gulp of beer that Daniel swore was ‘the good stuff’ and hummed at the hoppy flavour as it quenched the thirst that hadn’t stopped since you stepped foot in the country. It was no wonder why they liked their beers so much, they needed whatever they could to cool their bodies down.
“I like this place,” you said with a smile that Danny returned with pride.
“Thought you might, and tomorrow’ll be even better.”
“Where are we going tomorrow?”
Daniel shook his head and occupied his lips with the bottle so he could keep you in the dark a little longer. You didn’t mind this type of surprise, knowing he wanted to make you smile and was planning everything could to make that happen on the road trip.
The doldrum tune that was playing from the corner of the bar was interrupted as a coin was slotted into the jukebox and Josh Turner’s Your Man came on the machine. Couples around the bar and restaurant left their belongings and made their way to the dance floor. Where you came from no one would do that, and if they did their belongings wouldn’t be there when they returned.
Beneath the table you could feel Daniel’s foot tapping in time to the beat and his fingers drummed on the long neck he lifted to his lips. He caught the longing in your eyes as you watched a grey haired man holding his wife, slowly swaying together like you had imagined you would with James in 40 years.
“Come on, Roo,” he invited as he pushed his chair back and held out his hand. His palm was cold and damp from the beer bottle but it was refreshing on your skin with the heat that still lingered with the setting sun. Leading you to the edge of the dance floor he pulled you close and curled an arm around your waist as he started to sing along. “I've been thinking 'bout this all day long, never felt a feeling quite this strong, I can't believe how much it turns me on, just to be your man. I know you know the words, don’t be shy.”
It was impossible to feel embarrassed with him, even if you butchered the song he would still smile like he was listening to his favourite artist live. So, you placed your hand in his and the other rested on his shoulder as you started to sway and sing along.
“There's no hurry, don't you worry, we can take our time. Come a little closer, let's go over, what I had in mind.”
Daniel let go of you and your head fell back with a laugh as he spun you away and pulled you back. You could only giggle as you returned out of step and ended with your back to his chest instead of face to face but he adapted quickly and held your waist instead.
“Baby lock the door and turn the lights down low,” his voice was deep and rich in your ear, intimate and full of promise that hit you unexpectedly. “And put some music on that's soft and slow. Baby we ain't got no place to go, I hope you understand.”
You were glad you weren’t facing him as his words affected you in a way you couldn’t remember feeling for over a year. The very air seemed to thicken in your lungs as you felt every inch of his body fitting against yours. You could feel the veins on his hands as you laced your fingers with his and guided them down to your hips.
This was the first time the lines had blurred throughout the years of friendship and you allowed yourself to feel wanted, if only for a song.
Day Three - Caiguna to Yalata The pounding in your head turned out to be banging on your door and you somehow found the strength to answer it. Bright sunlight flooded in through the crack and you groaned as you covered your eyes.
“Good morning sunshine,” Daniel greeted brightly as he stepped inside. “It’s 7am on another stunning day here in Straya.” 
You playfully shoved Danny and he rolled with it to splay across your bed, the blankets still tucked in from collapsing atop them last night. 
“7am is too early,” you complained as you climbed into the small space he left on the twin sized bed, curling onto your side and throwing your arm over your face to block out the light. “Let me sleep.”
“You can sleep in the car.” His fingers danced teasingly over your ribs and you jutted your elbow back into his hard abs before he could properly tickle you. “Ouch, you’re not very nice in the morning.”
“This isn’t morning, this is still night,” you grumbled as his arm draped over your waist instead.
“The sun is up.”
“Tell that to the people of Norway. It can be sunny at midnight there.”
You could feel him silently laughing at you as it shook the bed. “But we aren’t in Norway.”
“Shh,” you murmured as you snuggled closer to him. “Let me go back to sleep.”
“Fine,” he conceded, making some adjustments to the pillow before shoving his arm under your head, “but just because I’m comfortable now.”
The hangover was gone by the time you woke naturally and you felt refreshed as you stretched lazily. Rolling over in Daniel’s arms you found his eyes closed and his lips parted slightly with soft snores. You raised your head a little to see the alarm clock that was probably considered vintage in the 80’s and saw it was well past check out time. Luckily it didn't appear that the No Vacancy sign was ever used, so there was no rush to leave.
The small movement was enough to wake him and your stomach clenched at the smile that brightened your day more than the blistering sun outside when his honey brown eyes opened. 
“I can’t believe this,” you tutted as you let him pull you closer against his chest. “I was ready to go at 7 and you just went back to sleep…so lazy.”
“How rude of me,” he chuckled. “I’m sure I can find a way to make it up to you.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
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“Woah,” you whispered breathlessly as the truck bounced to a stop on the hard sand of the tidal line. “It’s beautiful.”
“Isn’t it just,” Daniel grinned as he opened his door and looked across at you. “Coming in?”
You bit your lip as your eyes feasted on the picturesque scene. Big barrel waves crashing out in the bay and white sand welcoming bare feet on the shore, it was a sight pretty enough to make angels cry. Hopping out, you rounded the four wheel drive ute and sat on the metal bar running across the front, distracted by the breathtaking view. “What about sharks?”
Daniel’s door shut and you turned to the sound in time to see him pulling his singlet over his head and tossing it through the backseat window before unbuckling his belt and shoving his jeans off too. It was impossible not to stare at the hard planes of his chest or the definition of his abs, and then the thick thighs that were barely covered by his boxers. 
“The chances of a shark attack are less than…” His words trailed off as he looked up and caught you blatantly staring, his teeth sparkling as a big smile grew on his face. “The view is spectacular, am I right or am I right?”
“You or the beach?”
“Spectacular is pretty high in the standards of compliments,” he said as he started to flex his arms, “but if you think I’m spectacular then I would accept that.”
You closed your eyes from the harsh sunlight and tipped your head back to feel the rays on your cheeks as you laughed. “You’ve never had to worry about your ego, have you?”
He sent you a playful pout as he walked towards you, his thongs flicking up golden sand behind him with each step. “It would take a hit if you didn’t come swim with me.”
You hadn’t realised quite how many types of heat there was until that moment. There was the heat of the bonnet from hours of driving beneath you, the heat of the sun in the sky above and the heat of his hands that landed on your knees. It was the heat of his hands that seeped into your blood and spread throughout your body, increasing to boiling point as they slowly ran up your thighs.
Your knees unconsciously parted for him and he stepped into the space so you were eye to eye and his tongue rolled across his bottom lip. “There’s nets out past the reef, you’ll be safe with me.”
You took a sharp intake of air as his fingers caught the hem of your shirt and his knuckles grazed your skin. “Well?” he asked quietly. “Trust me?”
You swallowed deeply as you nodded and he rewarded you with another of those smiles you had come to love before he lifted your shirt up and left it on the hood of the truck so he could grab you around the waist and haul you over his shoulder.
“Daniel!” you yelped as the world was suddenly upside down and he kicked his thongs off before jogging towards the water. “Don’t you dare dunk me.”
You expected the next sudden shift when the water reached his knees but as quick as he tossed you up off his shoulder he caught you again with a booming laugh. His arms were bound around your thighs and your hands planted on his shoulders as you looked down at his amused face. 
“I wouldn’t dare,” he promised as he eased his grip, your body sliding down his until you were once more eye to eye. “I just want to make you smile.”
Day Four - Yalata to Port Lincoln  As much as you had found yourself enjoying the historical rich motels in the outback, you were just as happy to find the accommodation in Port Lincoln was a five star resort on the waterfront. The sun was just starting to set when you arrived at the hotel and checked into the two bedroom suite with a gorgeous view of the harbour. 
“I never knew driving could be so exhausting,” you said as you dropped into the swing chair on the large balcony. 
“Don’t worry, tomorrow’s a rest day so you can recover from all that driving you didn’t even do,” Daniel pointed out with a smirk, taking the spot beside you and taking over the leg exercise of swinging it back and forth. “We can do whatever you want, just can’t miss the boat to Adelaide tomorrow night.”
It was nice spending so much time alone with Daniel on the road, comfortable conversations rolling like the tires on the highway, but a change of pace would be welcomed. “What is there to do?”
“Hmm,” he frowned and stood up. “Let me go see.”
Daniel disappeared out of the room and returned a few minutes later with a stack of brochures that he had taken from the tourist stands in reception and you met him on the couch inside where the pleasant offshore wind couldn’t whip them away. Together you flicked through them, separating them into three piles of yes, no and maybe. 
“Sure you don’t wanna cage dive?” he teased as you threw that particular brochure across the room. “You could get up close and personal with a Great White. Once in a lifetime opportunity right there.”
You snorted and shook your head. “Once in a lifetime because it would kill me. Not happening.”
“Here, that’s a yes for you.” 
You took the advert for a farm park where you could hand feed the animals and added it to the yes pile. “Maybe next year we can go to your farm…unless James gets you in the divorce.” Your lips turned down at the idea and you realised you had hardly thought of your husband, but now that you had he had disturbed your peace even though he was thousands of miles away.
Daniel reached over the coffee table to the stationary set, grabbing a hotel engraved pen before pulling his shoe off. “It’s just like Toy Story,” he said as he waved the pen in your face. “Put your name on me first.”
You managed a small laugh as you took the pen and clicked the nib out. “Should tattoo it so it doesn’t wash off.”
Daniel squirmed on the couch as the pen tickled his foot and you grabbed his ankle so he couldn’t move too much but he started to giggle uncontrollably as the nib ran over his instep. “How long does it take to write Roo?”
You laughed and kept going before he wretched his foot free and crossed his leg over his knee to see your full first and last name on it - maiden name, not married.
“For legal purposes,” you said as you clicked the pen nib away and tossed it on the table.
“Fair enough.” He grinned at the writing everytime he looked at his crossed leg and draped his arm over the back of the cushion as you returned to the seat. “You can come by the farm anytime, don’t have to wait for next year.”
“Except for shearing season,” you smirked as you remembered that mistake where you were roped into helping the jackaroos round the sheep up and shave them. “I have no interest in losing all feeling in my arms again.”
“Earned that beer though,” he said with a chuckle as he started to massage your neck. “I was so proud, you weren’t afraid to get stuck in and help. I kinda thought you were a bit of a princess ‘til then.”
Your nose crinkled at the endearment James used to call you. “Well I’m glad I got rid of that image. But, out of curiosity, what do you think I am now?”
The smile could only be described as devilish as his hand spread across your nape and guided you closer to him. His eyes held you captivated and his lips parted with his answer but it was silenced by the sound of ringtone breaking the tension and like a puppet whose strings were cut he fell back into his seat. The emotion in his eyes was erased with a blink and you reached blindly for your phone, answering the call without needing to see who it was from.
“Hey, isn’t it like midnight?” you asked as you lifted the device to your ear but there was no answer at the other end. “Hello? James?”
“Fuck, yeah, just like that baby. God, Laura, you’re so perfect.” The phone slipped from your grasp as you heard the muted but unmistakable sound of James’ voice.
Daniel frowned as he picked the phone up from your lap and lifted it to his ear, shock registering before it transformed into anger and he hung up the phone without breaking the screen with the force of it. He discarded the phone and pulled you into his lap in the same instance but you didn’t hear what he said as you buried your face in his neck and grappled onto him for dear life.
Day Five - Port Lincoln to Adelaide You didn’t feel like doing anything other than staying in bed and sleeping the day away but Daniel wouldn’t let you waste another minute of your time because of James. In a way you could understand the logic and as a big ‘fuck you’ to him you were going to get your shit together and go and have fun.
Daniel worked even harder to get a smile or a laugh out of you and kept his camera on hand to capture the moments he succeeded. The animal farm did make you feel a little better and holding a joey as you bottle fed it was finally enough to break through the invasive cloud that had hung over you. 
“Roo and Roo Two,” Danny commented as he moved around taking a million shots of you.
“Need a hand?” a passing couple offered after watching Daniel try and extend his arm enough to get in the shot too.
“That’d be a dream,” Daniel nodded and he handed his camera over before sitting down beside you and curling his arm around your waist. The joey was almost asleep from drinking all of the milk and Daniel grinned at you as he stroked its neck. “Looks like you when you sleep.”
You grinned back, forgetting about the camera. “Cute, right?”
“Yup, that’s, uh, exactly what I was thinking.” He cleared his throat and scratched his neck awkwardly before laughing when your elbow connected with his ribs. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You’re a cutie-tootie when you sleep…it’s another story when you’re awake.”
His laugh was loud enough to wake the joey when you nudged him again with an offended look. “What? You’re beautiful when you’re awake.”
“That’s totally what you meant,” you said sarcastically before rolling your eyes. “Just look at the camera and smile like a normal person.”
He tipped his head to yours and smiled brightly for the camera, but he couldn’t resist whispering, “Bold of you to assume I know how to be normal.”
Day Six - Adelaide to Portland It took a moment to recollect the events from the night before and it wasn’t because of the many wine tastings you had gone to around the Port Lincoln area. Perhaps that had a little bit to do with it, but mostly it was because you had fallen asleep in the truck to the gentle rocking motion of the ferry but now you were tucked into an unfamiliar bed. 
“Danny?” you called out as you tossed the covers back and found you were still in yesterday's clothes. You could hear some sounds outside of the room but Daniel hadn't answered your call so you picked up the coat rack from the corner and quickly opened the door.
“Jesus Christ.” Daniel jumped back as you waved the long pole his way. “What the fuck?”
You sagged in the doorway and dropped the makeshift weapon to clutch your chest. “You gave me a fright.”
“I gave you a fright?” he asked incredulously. “You gave me a fucking heart attack. What were you going to do with this?” He swiped the coat rack off the floor and couldn’t stop himself from laughing at it. “Please don’t give me a concussion before the race.”
“But any other time is good?” you quipped as your lips tipped up now that your heart rate was returning to normal. “How did I get to bed?”
He flexed his arms with a cocky grin. “I tried to wake you up but you were dead to the world. And now that sleeping beauty is awake, how about we go out for breakfast? There’s meant to be a huge market that sells a bit of everything that we could check out after.”
You held a finger up as you looked down at your clothes and heard your stomach rumble, answering the question of whether to shower or not first. “Just give me one minute to change.”
Daniel had obviously been awake for a while being an early bird so he was ready and waiting at the door when you reappeared, his hand held out and waiting for yours. The lines between friendship and more were getting blurrier each day but it no longer felt wrong as you laced your fingers with his and stepped outside.
“Are you limping?” you asked with a frown as he kept his weight on one side the entire walk to the market.
“No, just got pins and needles in my foot.”
An hour later he was still favouring his right foot so you steered him back towards the hotel so he didn’t make it worse before you got to Melbourne. “You should probably see a doctor.”
Daniel dropped onto the couch and stole the remote to choose a movie, patting the space beside him so he could kiss your temple after joining him. “You worry too much, I’ll be fine.”
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“You’re quiet,” Daniel commented as he turned off the tv. “What’s got you thinking so loud?”
You chewed your bottom lip as he called you out. He was too observant, or you were too easy to read. “It’s our last night together.”
“You’re still going to stay with me for the weekend, right?” He shifted in his seat to face you and stroked your cheek with the back of his hand as he waited for an answer.
You nodded and he relaxed a little only to freeze as you spoke, “But you’ll be busy, we don’t have time to hang out.”
“I’ll always make time for you,” he promised as he pulled you into his lap. “This week with you has been…spectacular.”
“Spectacular is pretty high in the standards of compliments,” you reminded him, much to his amusement.
His smile softened as his fingers trailed along your jaw and down your neck to trace your collarbone. “Which is why it’s reserved for very, very good things.” 
You were almost certain he could hear your heart racing like thunderous hoof beats in a quiet desert. The blood was pumping around your body carrying the oxygen you needed to replace but couldn’t seem to draw the air into your lungs as he leaned forward.
“You were his best man,” you whispered with the last of your breath as you felt the heat of his lips so close to yours.
“But I’ve always been the best man for you.”
The first kiss was softer than the wind, tentative and testing as you learned how your body responded to the caress before hunger yearned for something deeper. A deep moan rumbled from Daniel’s chest as your tongue rolled across his lips that parted for you and his arms encircled you to hold you tight, as if he were clinging to the spell so it couldn’t be broken.
“Please, Danny,” you sighed longingly as his hands slipped under the summer dress you wore and his thumbs teased you with painfully slow circles on your thighs. “You have never been a patient man, don’t start now.”
His quiet laugh heated the skin of your neck that he kissed with such tenderness you wanted to cry. It had been so long since you had been touched in such a way that you couldn’t wait any longer.
“Please,” you begged as you rolled your hips over his cock that was straining against his shorts. You moaned as the hard length brushed over your panties and a reciprocal sound came from Daniel before he stood up abruptly. 
“Fuck, I wanted to take my time with you,” he murmured against your lips as he blindly walked to the closest bedroom. 
“Later,” you promised. “Right now I need you to get me out of this goddamn dress and fuck me.”
Day Seven - Portland to Melbourne “Oh, fuck off,” you growled as your phone rang on the bedside drawers. You rolled back into Daniel’s embrace and wrapped your arms around his waist as he saw at the voicemail notification before it started to ring again. 
“He’s just going to keep calling,” Daniel said with a sigh that turned to a yawn after the late night spent getting to know each other's bodies intimately. “You’ll have to talk to him at some point.”
“I know, I just want to savour this moment before the drama starts. I can’t remember the last time I woke up like this, happy and content. I’m not ready for that to end.”
“What makes you think I’ll let this end?” he teased as he rolled you onto your back and trailed wet kisses down your neck. “I might just write my name on your foot too and call you mine.”
The warmth of the blankets disappeared as Daniel made his way down your body, kissing the entire length of you before settling between your legs as the phone rang again.
“Answer it,” Daniel ordered as his fingertips delicately traced the stretch marks across your hips, committing every inch of your body to his memory. “Or he won’t go away.”
You tried to find any hint of resentment in his face as you reached for the phone but there was only an air of smugness as he made himself comfortable, resting his head on your thigh.
“I think we have been robbed,” James said without even a hello as you answered the call on speakerphone. “Everything in the guest room is gone.”
A huff of amusement bubbled at the image of him standing in the empty room, his face crumpled in confusion as he scratched his head. “It’s at my apartment.”
“What apartment? What are you on about?”
“The apartment I rented before I moved out two weeks ago. The one I will be living in when I get back.” Daniel’s fingers traced the waistband of your panties and your breath hitched as they slipped beneath the lace.
“Bullshit,” he laughed but there was a hint of uncertainty in the sound. “Just come home and talk about this before you make any rash decisions. I know I have been busy with work lately-"
“More like busy with Laura.” The air that hissed between your teeth could have been mistaken for anger but it was entirely from the devilish look in Daniel’s eyes as he bit the soft skin along your inner thigh.
“Laura’s my assistant.”
The laugh turned to a gasp as Daniel pushed the lace aside and ran his tongue through your folds, his eyes rolling up to watch your reaction, the phone falling from your hand as you reached for his hair.  You tugged the strands as his tongue circled your clit and you couldn’t stop the moan from escaping as you arched your back at the growing pleasure.
“Fuck, yeah, just like that baby,” you begged shamelessly and he chuckled as he felt your walls flutter around the fingers he curled into your cunt. “God, Daniel, you’re so perfect.”
A round of expletives filled the air as James heard a real orgasm take over your body but they fell silent as he realised why the words seemed so familiar. You weren’t just accusing him of fucking Laura, you knew. And you were using his best friend to show him.
“Some friend you are, sack of shit,” James growled as you whimpered with the aftershocks of the orgasm.
“Some husband you were,” Daniel snickered as he tore your panties off and climbed up your body to kiss you, sharing the taste of your pleasure on his tongue before he picked up the phone. “You lost the best thing you had, mate. I won’t make the same mistake you did.”
Daniel ended the call stared down at you in wonder as a slow smile started to spread across his face. “I don’t think he will be calling back.”
It may have been the high of the orgasm, or it could have been the knowledge that after a year of enduring the decaying marriage, but you were free - either way, you were giddy with joy as you wrapped your legs around Daniel’s hips and pulled him closer. 
“I can’t believe you did that,” you giggled as you hooked your fingers into his boxers and pushed them over his hips. 
“He had to know who you belong to now, he had his chance.” His voice was pure decadence in your ear as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds before stretching you wide as he thrust forward and stilled. He gave you a moment to adjust to his size and brushed a gentle kiss across your lips before captivating you with his golden brown eyes. “Still want to know what I think you are?”
Your fingers ran softly down his back, feeling each bump on his spine right down to the twin dimples at the base. “Tell me,” you whispered as your hands grasped the firm muscles of his ass, your nails digging in to spur him into moving.
“Mine.”
Melbourne Grand Prix - Race Day The screams of Daniel’s home crowd were intoxicating and you couldn’t help cupping your hands around your mouth and joining in as he parked front and centre of the pitlane having won his home race. Climbing out of the car, stood atop the halo and threw his fists in the air before tearing his helmet off and holding it up too, tapping his finger on the large number 3.
You couldn’t help but notice how he still favoured his right foot after he jumped off the car and rushed towards his team, grappling them into strong hugs that probably crushed the air out of their lungs - not that they cared as they ran on adrenaline after the race.
“Wow, Daniel, what a race! You were absolutely flying!” the interviewer praised after he took his microphone and joined her in front of the Sky Sports camera. “Looking at some of those high speed corners, it looked like you were fighting to keep the race line.”
“I couldn’t brake hard if I tried,” he laughed and combed his sweaty hair back through his fingers. “Got a fresh tattoo and it’s still a little tender.”
“On your foot?” Naomi asked as she pointed to his Red Bull boot. 
“Yeah, glad it wasn’t on my throttle one or I don’t think I’d be up here,” he joked.
“I’m certain I am asking on behalf of everyone when I say, can we see it?” A cheer from the crowd confirmed her statement and your fingers gripped the metal barrier as goosebumps broke over your skin.
“No way,” you mumbled under your breath as you shook your head to get rid of the ridiculous thought you had.
“Sure, I’ll need this off for my shoey anyway,” he said as he pulled the boot off along with his sock. Turning around, he bent his knee so the sole of his foot could be seen and looked over his shoulder, grinning as he found you at the barrier with his team. 
“Aww, look at that, it’s adorable,” Naomi gushed as she saw the basic outline of a kangaroo on the sole of his foot. “What a way to pay homage to your nation!”
You bit your lip from smiling too hard when he started to laugh as she completely misunderstood what the picture meant. “Of course!” 
He excused himself quickly and hopped towards you, not wanting to get the days old tattoo dirty on the ground. 
“You’re actually insane,” you gasped as you slapped his chest playfully, still in disbelief that he had the word Roo tattooed on his foot beneath the picture. 
He leaned in closer so he could talk without fear of being overheard and you inhaled the purely masculine scent of him enveloping you as his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “It was your idea, and if you didn’t sleep so much you would have been awake to come and get it done with me.”
You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face as his hot hands came to rest on top of yours. “I must admit, I’m a little disappointed that it isn’t my full name.”
“Do you know how ticklish that was? I would have wet myself trying to get your whole name.”
You smirked at him, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening with his growing smile. “That sounds like a you problem.”
“Does anyone have a marker pen?” Daniel asked loudly and about half a dozen were thrust his way in an instant. 
“What are you doing?” you asked as you took a step back but the crowd was so tightly packed there was nowhere to go.
“Foot,” he said as he tapped the barrier, “up. It’s not a tattoo…yet.”
“You’re insane,” you laughed as you shook your head but instead he dropped to his knees and caught your ankle under the barrier.
“And you’re mine, I just need to…stop wriggling,” he complained as he pulled your shoe off and bit the cap off the marker before inking your sole. Twisting your foot about you saw his driver number covering the skin and bit your lip at the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he flipped the pen in his hand. “There, that’s better.”
“Is it?” you joked as you slipped your shoe back on. “I would have said spectacular.”
You were always surprised that his smile could somehow brighten, even when it seemed like it couldn’t possibly grow any more. But his smile grew as stepped closer and his hand reached for the back of your neck, pulling you to meet him as much as the barrier allowed.
“Spectacular?” he echoed before crushing his lips to yours until you were breathless and forgot where you were. “Yeah, that’s more like it.”
Daniel's Road Trip Playlist: Cruise - Florida Georgia Line Watermelon Crawl - Tracy Byrd Your Man - Josh Turner You Make It Easy - Jason Aldean Right Now the Best - Zach Bryan Over For You - Morgan Evans Live Like You Were Dying - Tim McGraw Die A Happy Man - Thomas Rhett Butterflies - Kacey Musgraves
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thegettingbyp2 · 2 months
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Austin butler x reader
Reader and Austin are married and Austin does his first interview as a married man and tell them about how he met the reader and there love story plus maybe to add to the cuteness he announces that he is also gonna be a father
A Lot of Changes
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You were sitting front row in the audience, waiting for Austin, your husband, you walk onstage. He was currently in the middle of the press tour for Masters of the Air but this was his first interview since your wedding and you knew that he was going to be asked about it. You looked down at your hand, smiling when you saw the dainty gold band that was now sitting on your ring finger before being jolted out of your thoughts when you heard the rest of the audience applause as Austin walked on stage.
He’d spoken about Masters of the Air for about fifteen minutes before the interviewer changed the topic. ‘So, we’ve seen on your lovely girlfriend, no, your lovely wifes Instagram a couple of wedding photos,’ he said, causing Austin to smile softly, looking down at his ring before lifting his head, his eyes finding yours instantly and his smile growing. ‘How was it?’
‘One of the happiest days of my life,’ he replied, smiling. ‘I’d been ready to propose pretty much a week after we started dating so it’s been a long time coming but it was so worth it. We got married in this big stately home and she looked so beautiful,’ he said, his voice trailing off as he found you once again in the audience.
‘You were ready to propose after a week? And how long had you been dating before the wedding?’
‘So, we met when filming began again for Elvis after lockdown and she was wandering around the set, offering to get coffees for everyone. I’d noticed that she started doing that pretty much every day so one morning when I heard that she was making her rounds, I decided to go and get her a coffee and surprise her. The only downside is I now have to get her coffee every morning,’ he joked, making everyone else in the studio laugh.
‘And how did you propose?’
‘Well, I wanted to make this big deal of it, I had a plan where I’d booked a couple of days off work and I was going to take her out on a date, you know, really try to woo her. And then because we were in Australia, we were going to spend a couple of days in Sydney and on the last evening I was going to take her to a show at the Opera House, she’s always wanted to go and I was going to propose after the show, by the water. It didn’t really turn out like that, I jumped the gun a bit and our trip to Sydney ended up being a bit of an engagement-moon kind of thing,’ Austin explained, laughing softly. You smiled to yourself as you remembered the night, about a year and a half ago now.
You were waiting in Austin’s trailer for him to finish filming, curled up on the sofa with a film playing softly on the TV. You’d spent the day packing a couple of bags for you and Austin after he’d surprised you this morning by telling you that he was taking you to Sydney for a long weekend. The sound of the door opening made your head turn in the direction of the sound and you smiled tiredly as you watched Austin walk in.
‘How was filming?’ you asked softly when he came and sat down on the sofa next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and sighing heavily.
‘Long,’ he replied, the end of the word being cut off slightly by a yawn and you moved your arms to wrap around him, tangling your fingers in his hair and scratching lightly. ‘That feels amazing,’ he murmured, his eyes closing as he let his weight lean onto yours more.
‘Well, you don’t have to go back onto that set for the next few days. We’re going on holiday and I don’t want you even thinking about work for the whole time we’re away, you hear me?’ you asked, tilting his head to face you. As soon as his eyes were on yours, his body relaxed and he leaned in to give you a quick kiss before groaning against your lips.
‘I still need to pack, I was going to on my break earlier but I completely forgot. I won’t be long and then we can go.’
‘I’ve packed your bags for you, they’re on the bed with mine so we’re good to go whenever you’re ready. I didn’t know what kind of things you wanted to take so I’ve packed some hoodies as well that you might - ’
‘Marry me.’
His words cut you off straight away and you pulled back slightly, keeping your arms around his neck, to look at him. ‘What did you just say?’ you asked as Austin moved to sit more upright on the sofa, hooking your legs over his arms and pulling them across his lap, trying to pull you closer to him. He leaned in closer, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked at you.
‘Marry me,’ he repeated softly, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. ‘I had this big plan where I was going to take you to the Opera House and propose while we were away but I couldn’t wait.’
‘But I’m in ratty sweatpants, one of your hoodies, this isn’t the time to propose to someone! I mean, I look - ’
‘Perfect. You look perfect ,’ he said, grinning at you now as he tugged you even closer, until your nose was brushing against his. ‘So, what do you say? Will you marry me?’
‘Will we still get to go to the Opera House?’
‘Yes,’ he replied, laughing.
‘Then yes!’ you exclaimed, pulling him in for a kiss.
When Austin had finished recounting the story of his proposal, the studio erupted in applause and you couldn’t stop the blush from rising in your cheeks. ‘And how has married life been treating you?’ the host asked, grinning at Austin.
‘Incredible, we had our honeymoon in Spain and since being back, everything’s just felt so right and amazing and there’s a lot of changes going on at the minute so it’s terrifying but so exciting at the same time.’
‘What kind of changes are you making?’
‘Well, uh,’ Austin chuckled nervously, his hand running along his thigh as he adjusted his seat and looked over at you, looking for permission. Smiling back at him, you nodded gently. Austin grinned back at you before turning back to the host. ‘We’ve been changing one of the guest rooms in the house into a nursery. About three months ago, we found out that we’re going to be parents.’
The applause that followed was deafening and you and Austin couldn’t help but laugh at the reaction, neither of you knowing what you were expecting. Once the applause had died down, the host wrapped up his interview with Austin. Austin thanked him and stood. Instead of heading off of the set, he made his way over to you, sitting on the floor in front of you and grabbing your wrists, draping your arms around his neck.
‘You were amazing up there,’ you murmured into his ear, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head as his fingers absentmindedly began to play with yours.
‘Thank you, baby,’ he replied, craning his neck around to look at you, nothing but love in his eyes. ‘How are you guys doing?’
‘We’re just fine,’ you said, smiling warmly at him, ‘the amount of interviews you’ve got lined up over the next couple of months, they’re going to know just how big their daddy is before they’re even born.’
Austin tilted his head backwards until your face was upside down in his eyes. ‘I love you. Both of you.’
You leaned down to quickly peck his lips before moving your hands to cup either side of his face, running your thumbs along his cheeks. ‘We love you too. Now, be quiet, we’re trying to listen to the rest of the show.’
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