#father Flores | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pedgito · 3 months

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𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄

summary | you're his best-friend's daughter and he's at a party he can't be bothered to care about, luckily you're the one thing that catches his attention. [5k]

pairing | lucien flores x fem!reader (best-friend's daughter!reader and/or alternatively, dad's best friend!lucien)

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, age gap (not specified, but it's girthy) smoking, semi-public sex, daddy kink, f!oral, unprotected piv, light choking, mentions of reader having hair that can be grabbed (to some degree), lucien is a major dilf and divorced, if i missed anything lmk!

author’s note | so, we know next to nothing about lucien but i have been sitting with this idea in my head and i wrote it. sue me. characterization could be completely off by the time the movie comes out but let's just enjoy the pwp and be hornknee, xoxo. also i hc that lucien does use some spanish. it's very minimal but it's there!

Lucien couldn’t give anyone a valid reason why he was here. Unwelcome and well, uninvited. At least, by the people who owned the house—his ex-wife and her new husband who referred to him as a leech who liked to mooch off the enjoyment of others because really, who was he to turn down an invite? He had a few close mutual friends who insisted that he be there, demanded it, even. He was personable enough, he could charm anyone, the other party-goers and it wouldn’t disrupt a damn thing.

Until he spots you.

He knows you from a distance—polite looks, short greeting and small talk, it never stretches beyond that. Maybe a few one off dinners here and there. You were his friend's daughter—best friend, but that didn’t matter.

And you know him well enough—through stories from your dad and pictures sent while he was away on vacation or work. He had a certain…aura to him that felt charged, overwhelming, and it provoked you to keep a distance when he was around. A charming smile and a wink in your direction never fails to make you weak in the knees and you know there’s no meaning behind, but it never fails to make you throb, something deep and primal in your gut.

You were half his age and clueless—he’s well-beyond your years, more experienced. In all aspects of life, but he can’t be that oblivious to the effect he has on you. Not within the handful of years he’s gotten to know you.

It’s the first time he’s seen you since you graduated college, a bright smile on your face as you sip on the flute of champagne in your hand, conversing lightly as he pops a cheese cube into his mouth, taking the freshly opened beer from your father and turning in the direction of the masses, sipping greedily as he leaned against the counter.

And given you’re a few glasses in, you feel a gentle buzz in your head that has you smiling when you set eyes on him.

Lucien was fine to remain unassuming all night, but the moment your eyes track him he’s perking up. Subtly, but you arms are outstretched as you approach him and he pulls you in like it was a regular greeting,

It wasn’t. Hardly at all.

Rough palms over warm skin, large and dexterous fingers pressing into your shoulder blades as you bury your face into his chest, the cold press of a chain against your temple. He says your name softly, a kind greeting as you smile into his chest and whisper his name in return.

When you pull back, he’s flashing a quick wink. Something he has done a million times before, but it feels electric, and maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but you feel his fingers lingering against your skin before your father is cutting in—

“Told you he’d show up.” He speaks indifferently, outing your obvious want and hopefulness for him to show up—which yeah, you perked up at the mention of it being a possibility. But, you didn’t expect your father to throw it back in your face. You grumble something low and Lucien can’t help but smile, cheek dimpling on one side like it always did—a sign of a true and genuine smile.

“Missin’ me, are you?” Lucien teases, watching as you crossed your arms over your chest in frustration, ignoring his question. “That’s…sweet.”

Your eyes roll slightly, watching as your father melted away easily into the crowd, knowing he’d disturbed the peace and left you to clean up the mess. Not that you minded, but it didn’t help that Lucien had your body riddled with nerves, noticing the way he clocked every single movement—even the most subtle.

You kept rubbing at a spot behind your ear, uncomfortable with the crowd as you shifted from foot to foot and Lucien took note, tapping your elbow as he nodded toward the back door.

And you nearly talk yourself out of it, but he’s flashing that sweet smile your way and it’s hypnotic, feet moving before you can deny him the opportunity.

Luckily, the backyard was empty and that provided some peace. And privacy, at the very least.

You follow Lucien silently, feet shifting against the gravel as you follow him around to the side of the house, noting as he looks around curiously—he’s never been here either, clearly. He chews at his lip and nods again before finding a quiet spot, leaning against the side of the house, solid cement pressing into his back as he reaches into the pocket of his jeans to retrieve a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“So, college?” He asks idly, struggling slightly as he opens the fresh pack. Lucien knew enough about you, through small talk with you and your father and he seemed genuinely interested, like he wanted you to elaborate, so you did.

“Just graduated,” You tell him honestly, fiddling with a thin, decorative bow on your sleeve, complimenting the intricate flowery design of your dress, flowy and trimmed high at your thigh, a muted yellow that he knows is your favorite color, “how’s business—you know, with my dad and everything?”

Which you couldn’t be bothered to give a shit about, but Lucien appreciates the gestures and chuckles, cigarette slipping between his lips as flicks open the lighter and burns the end of the cigarette until it flashes a deep amber before stowing away the pack and lighter into his pocket.

“Good,” He says gruffly through a deep inhale, exhaling jaggedly as he offers you the cigarette hesitantly, eyebrow raised in question, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell your dad.”

You shoot him a look of annoyance, nose scrunching up as you pluck the cigarette from his fingers. You’ve never smoked a day in your life, but he didn’t need to know that.

He did. But, it doesn’t stop him from letting you take a puff, struggling to hide the grimace as you pass it back.

“I’m not seventeen anymore,” You retort flippantly, “It’s been, like, eight years. You can drop that already.”

Lucien huffs out a short breath through his nose as his eyes track the ground, puffing at the cigarette robotically, moving through the motions as he flicks the ash away.

You notice his change in demeanor, subtle but there.

“What?” You ask curiously, a tinge of amusement in your tone as you tilt your head to meet his eyes, hands resting loosely against your hips as you leaned against an opposing half-wall, ass hitting the edge as you backed into it. “If you have something to say just say it. You never have a problem making fun of me any other time.”

“Not makin’ fun,” He responds calmly, shaking his head—he puffs a few more times before the cigarette sits lonely between his index and middle at his side, “I know you’re not a kid anymore, that’s pretty damn obvious.”

Your chest rattles with a gentle laugh, feeling slightly relaxed now that he didn’t throw another easy jab your way, but you feel the heated implication behind his tone, the way his eyes drag along your body but he doesn’t act—he wouldn’t, right?

He seems fearful, hesitant. So, you play into it.

“What gave it away?” You tease. “I mean, I would flash off my degree but I don’t have that with me.”

Your arms cross over your chest again, tighter this time as your breasts shift obviously, nearly spilling out of the top of your dress and Lucien swallows with irritation, throat burning with the sting of nicotine but also a deep, deep want for…something.

He thinks, has a line locked and loaded in his head but he decides against it, laughing at the absurdity and knowing you would laugh about it too. But, the quiet chuckle and lack of response has you pressing him. You take a few steps forward, still a comfortable distance but he follows it, eyes tracking and following the line of your body as you question him.

“What?” You ask, “What's so funny?”

Lucien wants to bite his tongue, but he can’t resist.

“Just, uh—“ He shakes his head abashedly, a grin breaking out on his face, “was gonna suggest you flash somethin’ else but that’s—it’s stupid. Just a joke, that’s—“

And you hate how he’s looking at you now.

It’s desire—insatiable and needy and he blindly stubs out the cigarette into the wall behind him before he’s discarding it on the ground.

Fuck it, you’ll bite.

“Tell me,” You urge, “tell me what you wanna see.”

He releases a shaky breath, a small cloud of smoke passing his lips as he turns his head away and you take the chance to invade his space completely, fingers running along the outside of his now empty hand, guiding it along your hip slowly—he follows the movement intently as you speak, “I’ll listen, I swear.”

His hand squeezes gently at your hip, the gradual guide toward your breasts nearly killing him before he’s finally speaking, “Your tits,” He breathes, thumb brushing over a clothed nipple, hardened under the fabric and he can feel it, knowing it’s the only layer that’s keeping him from a bare touch of your skin, “show me.”

And it should worry you that you’re only a few feet from the back door, but you weren’t worried—these types of people, they never lingered outside. They chain smoked and filled the house with a haze, the house littered with empty cans of booze and idle chit chat. The low hum was a comforting ambience, a reminder that you had each other to yourself.

You anticipated the feeling of being riddled with nerves, but his words spark a surge of pride through you, seeing how he gives into your plea to command—you want him to want it too, to demand it. You bite your bottom lip through a smile that has him cracking one similar, looking around briefly before you’re pulling the straps of your dress down in unison, his fingers cautiously catching the falling fabric as he helps keep your dress just under the valley of your breasts, allow the wide expanse of his hands to cup the soft tissue, your fingers curling around his own as he squeezes and admires in awe, bottom lip parted and wet from his tongue peeking out to soothe his chapped skin.

“Fuck, they’re—“

You cut him off with a snarky comment, “Just like you imagined?” You smirk subtly, catching the guilty look he flashes at you, eyes admiring as he flicks a thumb over the nipple of your left breast, the other one squeezed gently in his hand. Your pussy throbs between your thighs and it makes your heart swell, the soft groan he releases as he watches the skin pebble and goosebump under his touch. “It’s okay, I know you’ve thought about it.”

It’s not right. It never was. But, you’ve caught him red-handed. He nods slightly, a quick jerk of his head that you would miss if you weren’t locked on his face, mouth falling open in a soft sigh as his thumb and index finger pull and twist at your nipple, experimenting with your reaction. “Better than I imagined, if that’s possible.” He admits wholeheartedly, before his hands are leaving your breasts and curling around the back of your thighs, carrying you the short distance to the perch on the half-wall, resting your ass against the cold slab of concrete before his mouth is assailing your breasts without warning, fingers fisting into his beautiful and messy coiffed curls, full of product and smelling faintly of citrus—he groans, his wide tongue flattening over the skin before he’s sucking a pert nipple into his mouth.

You gasp sharply, palm slapping into the concrete at the sudden shot of pleasure it strikes to you core, knowing you were soaking through your panties with every passing second and his free hand was only a few inches away, lingering against your thigh as he squeezes, blunt nails digging into the skin as you mumbled mindlessly.

“Please,” You whine softly, “please—“

You’re not sure what you’re asking for, but Lucien feels the charge, the want you crave with his demanding nature and he pulls away briefly, hands leaving the other parts of your body to attach to your face, cradling your head momentarily as he examines your face, the slow drag of your teeth over your bottom lip as you dare to keep the eye contact, a glint of feral desire in your eye.

“Have you ever had your pussy eaten before?” Lucien asks boldly, point-blank as you shake your head. “Good.”

He backs away briefly, allowing you to rush to remove your panties, no words to be spoken to tell you to do so—you were more than eager, ready to toss them to the ground before he’s stuffing them in the loose pocket of his silk button up.

And really, you could find a million reasons to complain right now. Knowing there was a house full of people just inside, that you were ruining your dress with the patch of dirt against the edge of your ass or how it was going to get under your fingernails as your hands squeezed into the soil as he settled between your legs, crouching until his face is right in line with your pussy, bare and glistening in his face and he swears he’s never seen anything more mesmerizing—says it too.

It has your stomach doing flips, his fist bunching into the fabric of your dress as he pushes it up and away, eyes slanting up to look at your as he nudges your thighs apart, resting one gently over his shoulder for support as he gives a teasing, testing lick between your lips.

You sigh shakily, leaning back on your palms but keep your chin against your chest, watching as Lucien kept his eyes locked on you while his tongue traced along your seam, sucking testingly at your clit and that draws a ragged gasp out, which is rewarded with a big grin and a small chuckle, “Oh fuck,” You say on a punched-out breath, “fuck that’s so—“

“Language, nena,” Lucien chastises and you almost lose your grip on reality, reeling at how easily he can assert himself, “don’t need your daddy hearing all that, right?”

Not the fucking time, you think. A hand fists into his hair, pulling roughly as he ups the pace, tongue lapping you up greedily, swirling around your quickly swelling clit with a precision that takes years of practice to master—and you’re sure he’s had plenty, but then he’s piping up again and it has your breath catch in your throat.

“Not—not the time,” You gasp, “fuck—Luc, oh my god—“

He pulls back suddenly, chin gripped between his fingers as he speaks, smothering and far too close than he needs.

“Unless you need me to play daddy for you,” He challenges, “keep that dirty mouth in check, amorcito.”

You whine slightly, both from the tinge of pain and the implication of him labeling himself like that. So boldly and unashamed. You can’t help but give him what he craves.

You nod quickly, “O-okay,” You respond softly, earning a gentle tug of warning as he waits, “Yeah—yes, daddy.”

Lucien grins devilishly, a quick decent as he resumes his previous actions with no blip, mouth attaching to your pussy with ease and falling back easily into the motion, devouring you with a fervor that consumes you, arms nearly collapsing out underneath you as he dares to slip a finger in with his greedy tongue, biting your lip until you taste that faintness of copper, desperate to muffle the sounds as he sucks at your clit until you’re begging to come, words teetering on your tongue as you feel a swell of boldness fill your chest, guiding his face against your pussy in a way that Lucien can only describes as needy, giving you some credit as you give into your own pleasure so easily, unashamed at how badly you want to come—even without asking.

“Hu—oh, don’t—don’t stop—I’m gonna cum.” You plead, soft but desperate, his tongue swirling rapid, messy circles against your clit that forces your orgasm to creep up on you, body buzzing with electricity as it builds and explodes, releasing a tired sigh as you collapse onto your back, “—oh my god.”

Lucien rises with a slight grimace, aging knees not too appreciative of his current position, his hands engulfing your forearms as he pulls you sturdily upright. And you could stop here, go back inside, pretend nothing happened, and see each other a few years from now.

But, neither of you want that.

Lucien cradles your face once more, slow creeping movements as his fingers curl behind your ears and cradle your head gently, eyes shifting between your wide eyes and slightly parted lips, swollen from being assaulted by your own teeth, biting and chewing away nervously. He soothes the skin with a touch, the pad of his thumb swiping over it gently before he’s following up with his lips, kissing you gently. Silently.

He didn’t ask and you didn’t want him to.

“What do you say, nena?” He asks teasingly, “Want me to fuck you?”

“Right here?” You whisper against his lips, sounding scandalized despite what’s already progressed within the last several minutes.

Lucien soothes your worries with another kiss, deep and desperate as he tongue licks into your mouth.

“Let me take care of you,” He pleads softly, feeling the way your fingers grip into the fabric at his shoulders, “fuck, you’re so tense, nena.”

You breath softly, a small exhale that Lucien clocks and soothes, “Let daddy take care of you,” He teases sweetly, hearing the sharp intake of breath you take as his nose nudges at the sensitive spot behind your ear, his teeth following the touch and biting gently, “go on, ask for it.”

You nod lazily, moaning softly as he mouths at your neck. “Do it,” You command gingerly, and Lucien’s hands squeeze at your skin, the fingers on one hand gripping tightly at your shoulder—“daddy, please?”

He runs the back of his fingers down your chest, through the valley of your breasts and your thumb rubs at the small tattoo etched in the space between this thumb and index finger. It’s always been so prevalent, eyes spotting it whenever he scratched at his face or wiped at his mouth during one of the rare dinners you had with him and your father.

You hated how easy it was for you to notice and memorize the small things about him, stuff that shouldn’t mean anything but ended up meaning entirely too much—the faint trail of freckles that cover his chest, muffled by his tan skin but at this proximity, under the small spattering of chest hair, under the dangling of a few gold chains, you can spot them.

Allowing your movement to mimic his as your finger hooks into the material of his shirt, just over the highest, fastened button and he stops you, eyebrows furrowing. Thick fingers wrapping around your palm guide you down, your own fingers flexing against his stomach and Lucien wants to jump at the touch, the boldness you take on now as you pull him in, continuing your descent as you palm him impatient over his jeans, the uncomfortable stretch of the fabric apparent with the press of weight against your hand.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask, voice a soft whisper–fearful someone may hear you.

Lucien shakes his head and you have the nerve to be frustrated, pulling your hand away hesitantly but his reflexes are too quick, fingers encircling your wrist as he pulls you into him, chest pressing into his, looking down at him slightly with your unfair height advantage.

“If you’re good, maybe,” He explains, “Can you be a good girl and listen, nena?”

You nod eagerly, using his shoulders for support as he guides you off the ledge before quickly spinning you until your stomach presses against the cold wall, his hands working to shift your dress up your hips, the entirety material bunched around your stomach and leaving you nearly naked, his body the only cover to someone who wanted to peek around the corner and catch an eyeful, his belt buckle jingling loudly behind you.

You almost turn—almost, but his hands are faster than you, wrapping gently around your neck, traveling up until he can cup your chin back and tilt your head back, looking up at him from an angle that stretches you uncomfortably, but the hot press of his cock against your ass soothes any discomfort, eyes squeezing shut as he rubs his middle finger over your clit testingly, gaging your sensitivity.

And clearly over-sensitive still, he chuckles.

“You come for me again and you can have whatever you want,” Lucien barters with you, canting his hips slightly to guide through your wetness from behind briefly, his hand hooking around the back of your thigh to lift it up, allowing for more room and leaving you, essentially, putty in his grip—pliable and moving where he guided you, “you want it inside of you, nena? Ask for it.”

“Luce, please,” You whine softly, a gentle squeeze at your throat as you open your eyes, slightly bleary from how tight you had them closed and he’s looking at you pointedly—right. He watches you take a short, shaky breath, “fuck—daddy, please?”

Lucien bucks his hips gradually, heart racing from the teasing glide of his cock through your folds, he could chastise you for speaking so crudely but the sweetness in your voice is enough to leave him satisfied, dropping your leg suddenly as he adjusts himself, slightly, pressing into you slowly, hand gripping his shaft as you gasped, the stretch of his thick cock more than you were used to and he sees it, feels it in the way you squeeze around him.

“De mierda,” He curses quietly, “used to fucking college boys, yeah?”

“Huh—a—a couple,” You admit, gritting your teeth slightly as he jerks his hips slightly, seating himself inside of you fully then, a collective groan leaving your lips, “but you’re so—”

Lucien chuckles darkly, burying his face into your neck, the burn of the stretch from the angle he has your head becoming more prevalent, but the way he mouths at your skin makes it easier to ignore, moving his hips slowly to allow to adjust, the soft jingle of his belt against the starchy denim in the back of your mind, “So what, nena?”

As if to prove a point, he pulls back suddenly, slamming back inside of you with force, ripping a strangled groan groan from your throat that he stifles with his palm, eyes connecting with yours in a warning, forehead pressing against the underside of his chin from the angle he has you. His hand grabs greedily at your backside, fingers digging into your cheek and guiding you back pointedly.

“B—big,” You answer brokenly, “so fucking big, daddy.”

You can feel the imprint of his smirk into your skin as he squeezes at your flesh, moaning freely into the guise of his hand, muffling your sounds as he fucks into you from behind, watching as you fail to keep your eyes open, falling deeper into your own mind as he reaches blindly for your arms, allowing him to lock them behind your back with his large hands encircling them easily.

“Look at me,” He breathes gruffly, the deep creases in his forehead showing with how hard he’s trying to hold himself together, his soft brown eyes darkened to near black as he admires you openly, mouth parted slightly, “baby, look at me.”

You force your eyes open despite your state, sobbing openly into his hand as he allows you some relief, guiding your head back down slowly but nearly wrapping himself around you as he sandwiches you between him and the wall, setting your hands free and pressing his own against the ledge in front of you, the other one gripping your hip harshly.

He’s mumbling something behind you, sounding wrecked beyond repair—some in english, some in spanish. His voice is heavier and slurry, small groans escaping when you squeeze him just a little too tight, “Cuidado, nena. Easy, easy,” He begs into your shoulder, “I can feel it, baby.”

“I wanna taste it,” You tell him suddenly, driven to near insanity by the thought of it, his heady taste on your tongue as he jerks himself into your mouth—and if this was only a one-time thing, you just couldn’t pass that up, “please?”

And fuck, he can’t say no to you.

He switches gears, fingers finding your clit and circling quickly, determined to bring you over the edge once more, before he can reach that point himself, following through on his promise to make you come again as it hits you suddenly, muffled into the hand that finds your mouth again, biting gently at the inside of his palm in an effort to stifle your moan, his movements going far past the point of over-stimulation and you swat him away, hearing his voice strained from behind you.

“On your knees, nena.” He directs and you move quickly, seeing the pained and pinched up look on his face as he grips his cock, glistening with your slick as he jerks himself in front of your face, gravel digging into your knees but you can’t be bothered to care, eagerly sticking out your tongue to feel the press of his tip against it.

“Good—good girl, look so fuckin’ sweet down on your knees.”

Your delicate fingers grip into the silk material of his shirt as he cradles the top of your head, fingers gripping into your hair roughly as he comes with a strangled groan, muffled through clenched teeth.

Thick spurts paint your tongue, your lips wrapping around his head briefly as you swirl your tongue around the head, determined to clean up whatever mess was left as you swallow it down, flashing your tongue in show as he loosens his grip on your hair, stumbling back slightly.

The aftermath is quiet, fumbling with clothes to redress yourself as you pull your straps back over your shoulder, adjusting the dress back over your hips and Lucien keeps a careful eye on you, tucking himself back into his briefs, jeans slipping back over his ass as he buckles the belt into place, noticing how you squeeze your thighs together instinctively, suddenly remembering where your missing garment had gone.

You start to reach for it but his hand covers the pocket, brow furrowed in a playful frustration as he swats your hand away, “Luce, I need those.” You insist, but he shrugs nonchalantly.

“Maybe I want an excuse to return them,” He admits, puffing out his shirt and smoothing the wrinkles, running a lazy hand through his tousled hair before giving you a quick one-over, assuming you didn’t want to stress the…fucked-out look you’re sure you sported, to some degree. A small hum slips from his lips as he nods toward the back door, “I’m gonna smoke another, if you wanna head inside.”

Less conspicuous, less obvious. Besides, he needed a minute to collect himself. Clearing his throat as he reached into his back pocket for the second time that night.

You leave quietly, a simple nod but a lingering touch as he fingers trail along your wrist as you leave, a definitive wink your way as he turns away, faint lighter flick in the distance.

You mold back into the small talk with ease, only catching him entering through the backdoor several minutes later, a faint blush to his cheeks from the sticky heat and you linger, selfishly.

And he’s hoping to blend in, avoid any and all conversation for the rest of the night—but there’s your father, hot on his heels as he sways a little on his feet, looking eager for conversation.

“How’s your kid doing?” He asks casually, “I’m sure she talked you head off about college.” There’s a subtle nod in your direction that makes you uncomfortable, shrinking slightly from the wall you rested against.

“Fine.” Lucien bites back his words, giving little away.

“I get it, college ain’t easy on us,” He replies, “But, I sure am proud of her.”

Lucien smiles slightly, a small huff of a laugh hidden behind pursed lips.

“Should be,” He agrees, “she’s something special.”

And if your heart doesn’t swell ten sizes then, it’s later. Wondering how he got your number as he sends a picture of the ruined panties he kept for himself, draped over his lap as he sends a short message.

Got a minute? Wanted to return these.

Fortunately for you, you had all the time in the world for Lucien.

#lucien flores #lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x you #lucien flores x y/n #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedrostories #my writing

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vivwritesfics · 2 months

Note

I don’t know if you’ve considered this, but you should consider having a hedgehog be one of the drivers pets. (I’m a little biased tho lol, cause I have a pink-nosed dark-eyed female hedgie named Kiwi and she is the sweetest thing). But I love your work! And in no way feel pressured to do this, just an idea that popped into my head.

-🍓(I sign off as an emoji whenever I do asks 🤍)

lil_nando

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, and 67,129 others

lil_nando lil nando and big nando beach day

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fernandoalo_oficial mi pequeño hijo puntiagudo

username1 my little pointy son omg

username2 big nando and little nando make me soft

y/nl/n little nando and old nando

fernandoalo_oficial you love this old nando y/nl/n you know it babe

lil_nando

liked by lance_stroll, and 82,201 others

lil_nando if you can't tell im mad about dad leaving

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fernandoalo_oficial estaré en casa pronto, mi chico puntiagudo (I'll be home soon my pointy boy)

lil_nando date prisa padre nando (hurry up father nando)

username3 i always forget that fernando is dating y/n bc lil nando is the real wag

username4 only nando would name his pet after himself

username5 can't believe you're disrespecting max verstappen jr like this

lil_nando

liked by y/nl/n, and 103,921 others

lil_nando still waiting or padre to take me to the monaco grand prix

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username6 OMG FERNANDO PLS TAKE LIL NANDO TO A GRAND PRIX

fernandoalo_oficial when your mama no longer wants to come with me, I'll consider bringing you along

lil_nando let me drive your car fernandoalo_oficial never

username7 ugh lil nando you look so dapper

lil_nando like a proper gentleman???

y/nl/n the properist gentleman

lil_nando

liked by fernandoalo_oficial

lil_nando same vibes

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username8 the return of big nando and lil nadno i cant

y/nl/n mis chicos y sus flores (my boys and their flowers)

fernandoalo_oficial Los hemos elegido para ti (we picked them for you)

username9 give the people want they want (to see lil nando in lil aston martin merch)

username10 give the people what they want (to see lil nando driving big nando's car)

username11 give the people what they want (more big and lil nando together)

#fernando alonso #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso fluff #fernando alonso smut #fernando alonso x reader smut #fernando alonso x you #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #fa14 #fa14 imagine #fa14 x reader

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indeepertidesif · 5 months

Text

Your mother was a siren, your father a human. Disconnected from the supernatural world, you grew up in sunny California with your parents teaching you how to juggle your secrets and the truth. Then, at thirteen, your mother died.

In Deeper Tides is a Disenchanted spin-off interactive fiction story that takes place on the sunny coast of California (and the oceans that surround it).

In the aftermath of losing your mother, your father encourages you to reconnect with the family she left behind. At 24, you finally take to the ocean, only to receive a chilly greeting in response.

As you struggle to get closer with your mother’s family and heritage, you get swept up in the aftermath of a whirlwind assassination plot. The leaders of your family’s pod are dead, and you’re stuck in the middle of an ages old rivalry that could tear the sea apart.

• Create your character. Customize gender (full customization, including trans MCs), pronouns, and appearance.

• Story based over stat based.

• Romance any of the eight romance options (details below, profiles coming soon).

• Decide how you cope with your family and pod, and choose which side (or none) in a centuries old rivalry.

Rune Flores, he/him or she/her, a siren. The heir of your family’s pod, whose parents were just assassinated.

Thorne Varela, he/him, a siren. A tailless siren, to be exact. The bastard son of an affluential woman, he might be an unexpected ally.

Llyr/Llyra Silvia, he/him or she/her, a siren. The young leader of the pod rivaling your family’s, incriminated in the plot to kill Rune’s parents.

Talya Silvia, she/her, a siren. The younger Silvia sibling, and by far the most dangerous of the two. She’ll protect her family at all costs.

Malak ‘Mal’ Faris, they/them, a siren. An elite guard tasked with protecting Rune in the aftermath of unrest following the assassination.

Aster/Astra Solis, he/him or she/her, a siren. The spy of the Silvia family accused of the murders and set for execution.

Yan Liang, he/him or she/her, a human. A marine biology major working down by the docks. They’ve seen more than they should’ve, and the consequences might be dire.

Haakon, he/him, an unknown. A creature from the depths of the ocean that wants to save others because he couldn’t save his family.

#indeepertidesif #interactive fiction #twine game #cyoa game

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gentlyweeps-world · 4 months

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Bee Keeping Age

summary: You opted to help Fernando water his flowers.

pairing: fernando alonso x reader

warnings: none

notes: short little Nando fic 🤍

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

You’re lover had recently taken an interest in flowers and plants- to be honest you didn’t know why, but you didn’t complain, if anything it was cute.

Some would compare it to fathers having bees, “bee keeping” age if you will.

It was nice, he would bring home some beautiful flowers for you- knowing they’d make a great addition to the rest.

He would often say they complimented your beauty, he would only get flowers that reminded him of you, flowers that glowed and “brought light”, whatever that meant.

One day, he asks for your help to water the collection of flowers and plants, “Amor? Could you help me with the flores please?” He asks, a soft smile on his face as he holds a small watering can you had bought him.

"Of course baby" You say with a smile, moving from your spot on the couch you get up and follow him to the little area outside of your home that collects all of the flowers and plants he's gotten over time.

"Do you want to use the hose?" He asks, glancing over at you. "Sure..." You say softly, you get the hose ready and start to water some of the flowers and plants.

A small mischievous grin etches its way onto your face, and apparently Fernando had taken notice of it. "Ah- I know that look Y/n, what are you planning amor?" He asks with a grin, taking a moment to admire you doing such a domestic task with him.

"Nothing.." You say with a giggle. You and Fernando continue on with your task, but as you two are almost done you lightly spray him with the hose.

"You- oh you'll regret that!" He says with a smirk, using his own watering can and somehow moving it to splash water onto you.

You let out a small scream and laugh, pointing the hose at him once more you drench him in the water as he moves towards you, trying to turn the water onto you.

You two did end up watering the flowers, although in the end you and Fernando were more soaked.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

radio 🪩: Just wanted to make a small fic for Nando 🫶

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xas24 · 6 months

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flowers for my lady ~ pedri

summary: as pedri is away for a while, y/n doesn’t expect to receive flowers ever so often.

it all started with their first date, where pedri had found out how much y/n loves flowers; any type of flower, whether it be big, small, pink, blue, anything she adores it. it was a part of nature and flowers had always brought her positivity and happiness - ever since she was young, her father used to buy her flowers everyday, when he’d come back from work.

when she told him that, pedri thought it was so sweet and adorable, and since then not a day went by where y/n wouldn’t receive a flower from him. they were always together most days so when she would greet him with a kiss to his lips, he would greet her with a flower held between his fingers.

and y/n was always such a blushing mess. she couldn’t hold back the shyness that seemed to overtake her emotions whenever her boyfriend would reveal another flower to her. pedri would sport that famous smile he always flashed around and y/n would melt right on the spot because how is he real, and so handsome, and so hers.

how is it that he cares so much about her that he carries on her fathers little tradition of bringing her flowers everyday? how does he remember to get one everyday? how does he just know what flowers she would be in the mood of receiving today?

these were all questions that ran around in her mind when this started to become a daily thing; about six months into their relationship.

“it’s because i love you.” he answered, with a sneaky smile on his lips, one evening while they were lounging around on the couch.

she huffed and dropped her head onto his shoulder, “pedriii, answer the question properly.” she whined.

“i am! what, i can’t bring my girlfriend flowers everyday just because i love her?”

“you can but- it’s just.. how do you remember to bring them every single day?”

his smile then turned into a grin and he leaned forward, planting a tender kiss to her forehead.

“it’s because i think about you every single day.”

and it just became their thing yet she wouldn’t have it any other way.

however, when pedri had to leave for a week with his football club, y/n was quite devastated that his little flower hobby would be put on hold. accepting her fate and after staring at the small bouquet of lilies he had given her just before he left a few hours ago, y/n went to bed with a loving smile on her face, thinking about him.

•••

it was a sunday. the one day where she could rest and sleep in and do whatever she wanted for the day with no excessive chores to rush to get done. the one thing she didn’t want was the doorbell ringing at eight in the morning, when she was just enjoying a quite nice dream about her boyfriend, who was currently miles away from her.

she didn’t get up on the first ring, still trying to grubbily rub the sleep out of her eyes. it rang a second and third time and she groaned out of annoyance before frustratingly padding her way to the front door.

she opened it and there was a woman with a bright smile on her face. god, it was too early for this she thought, whilst trying to tame her messy hair.

“hola!” the woman grinned.

“hola.” y/n gave her a tired, tight lipped smile before her eyes fell on the bouquet of roses she held in her hand. her brows furrowed and then she was being given the bouquet.

the woman didn’t say anything as y/n confusedly took it from her hands and then she was walking off. the girl stared at her figure retreating down the hallway, and when she turned the corner, y/n came back in and closed the door.

“weird.” she mumbled. her eyes fell onto the little card tag attached to the brown paper, a small white tag with a light pink heart on it. when she noticed the handwriting, she instantly knew. there was no denying it and her heart practically leaped out of its place.

flores para mi señora, it read in his familiar, scruffy handwriting. (flowers for my lady)

her lips pulled into a pout and her whole body buzzed with warmth. there was no way he actually did this, planned this just for her.

her fingers excitedly opened the card and her eyes took in every single curve and letter of his words.

did you think i would stop just because im miles away from you right now? i love you, mi amor. it’s been a day but i miss you so stop crying and text me right now.

she laughed to herself, of course he knew she would tear up at the sight of this. he could read her like the back of his hand, even when he wasn’t here.

she was blushing, crying, laughing whilst holding the little card close to her chest and staring down at the gorgeous red roses. he continues to amaze her every single day and her love for him just keeps on growing, she can’t handle it all anymore.

with a heavy heart, teary eyes and messy hair, y/n runs to her room to grab her phone and text her boyfriend. the bouquet of roses still in her hold, she already knew she’d be receiving a lot more over the next week and she couldn’t wait.

#barça #pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri x reader #imagine #pedri imagine #pedri barça #pedri x y/n

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lookslikethatsallthetimewehave · 10 months

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Camping is fun! Except when animals come.

#very fun :)#father's day #jorge poptropica #jorge flores #mr. flores #mr. flores poptropica #artemis #artemis poptropica #mystery of the map #poptropica graphic novels #poptropica graphic novel #poptropica #poptropica fanart #fanart #fanfic

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wardenparker · 3 months

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The King's Queen - chapter 8

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Prince Javier of the Balearic Islands has always known that one day he would have to follow in his father's footsteps to be the caring and steadfast king that his people deserve. What he did not know is that he would be stepping into the next phase of his life alongside a woman he has never met before - and amidst a rocky sea of unusual circumstances of every kind.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 7k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: arranged marriage, age gap, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, mentions of American politics, deceased parents* Unnecessarily sexy use of a mirror, lingerie, size kink, loss of virginity, praise/worship, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex Summary: The night is finally here, and taking the next step with Javi feels even more natural than you dreamed. Notes: Welcome back to the Balearic Islands and welcome to smut time! (Gif is representative of the vibe, not of reader's appearance.)

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7

The first people to rise from the dinner table are you and Javi, which is as it should be. Everyone is finished with their meal when the king is, and you are more than happy to leave present company tonight. You take Javi’s arm with a smile and say your good nights, sparing a sly smile for Maisie and Gabriela as you go.

“That did not seem as painful as I was expecting.” Javi admits with a reassuring pat to your hand. “Your father was more restrained, I think.”

“I don’t think he expected me to ever tell him no,” you admit softly. “I wonder if he was bitching to my stepmother about me in the stables because he knew he couldn’t do it at dinner.”

“If he was, we can find out, if you wish.” He tells you with a smirk. “The stables have cameras.”

“I honestly don’t know if I want that kind of knowledge.” You admit with a shake of your head. “But please. Less talk of my father and more of us? We weren’t parted long this afternoon, but I’d like to hear about your day.”

“Not another word.” He promises, smiling at you. “Julius had me read over more agreements. Sometimes I feel like all I do is sign things. I need a stamp with my signature.”

“If you had that, then anyone could sign your name.” An idea which is alarming for several reasons. “I know it’s tedious, querido, but it is important.”

“I know.” He sighs and shakes his head. “Anyway. What did you and your ladies do this afternoon? Your first official as Princess?”

"We talked about you a little." It makes you smile as he seems so surprised by that fact. "I went over a few things with Flores and Sebastian went over my schedule for tomorrow with me after he came back from the stables. It was...fairly uneventful." All accept the conversation with Maisie and Gabriela in your closet, but of course you don't want to give away the surprise they helped you plan for him.

“That sounds lovely.” Javi tells you with a smile, nerves settling in his belly as you approach your bedroom suite. “Although tomorrow the wedding planning begins, sí?”

"Sí." The planning will begin in earnest, and there will be so much to do that it makes your head spin a bit. Or perhaps that's the nerves of anticipation for tonight. You cannot truly tell at the moment. "Would you still like me to have two dresses, mi amor?" He had said so in your first conversation about the wedding, and if it is something he truly dreams of then you will make sure it happens.

“Only if you wish.” He doesn’t want you to feel like you have to. “I just know that the traditional wedding dresses of queens are not…” he struggles to find the right words. “Party ready.”

"Maisie has already been showing me examples of designs so voluminous I would take up half the room." It does make you giggle, though, and you hug his arm. "I'll talk to the dressmaker. See what she thinks."

“Whatever you want.” He reminds you, “Catherine’s dress was gorgeous and simple lines.”

"I'm afraid I might have a more...active imagination than the Duchess of Cambridge did." The grin you aim in his direction is only slightly guilty, not mentioning that you also do not have a fussy British granny to satisfy with propriety. There is only him and you, but you won't say it like that.

“Diamond encrusted trains?” He jokes as he stops in front of your suite door. The footmen are absent and he smiles at the way Julius took his wants to heart. He knows everything inside will be perfect.

"I'm not aiming to be Marie Antoinette." Diamond encrusted trains sounds like the latest Kardashian wedding dress, and you smirk. "But I do like a classic, princess-y ballgown."

“Then that’s what you should have designed.” He smiles again, imagining your first dance in a beautiful wedding dress. “If your dress is your dream dress, just wear it all night. I want you to be happy.”

"I have an idea, and hopefully it will be workable." Not thinking of anything but being alone with him, you push open the door to your suite and gasp the moment you step inside. There are stunning bouquets of multi-colored daisies dotted with red roses on every surface. Crisp white candles of all different shapes and sizes are lit in just as many places if not more, and you could swear that an ice bucket and tray of something are sitting across the room on the coffee table in your sitting area. It's a movie-perfect moment of absolute romance if you ever saw one before and you nearly sob at the sight of it. "Javi...you...did you do all of this?"

“The staff set it all up.” He ducks his head in embarrassment, wondering if it didn’t count because he had not placed the items in your room himself. “I know that we talked about tonight and…” He takes your hand and presses it to his mouth. “You deserve romance. For it to be something you remember, hopefully very fondly.”

“It’s beautiful, mi amor.” As nervous as you have been, something about all of it slips from your shoulders in the face of this much love. In the care he has taken and the thoughtfulness of wanting to make the night a complete experience. “And not something I am ever going to forget; I can promise you that.”

"Good." The relief makes his answer whoosh out, shoulders sagging slightly and his grin one of complete pride. Despite being king, being the most powerful man in the islands, he wants your approval. Your happiness. Guiding you into the suite, the door closes behind you and he examines the room with approval. The staff had outdone themselves under Julius's guidance and he will have to thank the man. But for now, he turns towards you. "There is champagne and strawberries." He tells you with a small smirk. "Tonight is just for us, and there is no right or wrong here. Whatever you wish, nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of, Margarita." He wants you to know that he's not going to believe that you have to act a certain way or do certain things just because you are a Princess. You are a woman. One who deserves to have her every sexual desire fulfilled by the person you love. Him.

“It is for both of us, isn’t it?” Your arms slip around his waist to keep him close, feeling suddenly as though it is vitally important to be touching him at all times. Feeling as though if you let go, you may burst. “I…have a surprise for you also…though it is slightly less impressive and much less grand than all of this.”

“For me?” He’s surprised that you would do anything for him, his brows arching up. “Amor, you did not have to do anything for me.” He quickly assures you, hoping you are not panicking and making things up.

“It’s…small…” The smirk that forms on your face mostly has to do with how petite the lingerie Maisie gave you actually is. It barely covers anything at all. “But I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Anything from you I will love.” He promises, cupping your cheek gently.

“Then I think we should pour some champagne.” With the thought he put into this, it would be a shame not to sit along at the beautiful flowers and share a drink before moving forward with the night.

Delighted that you seem to like his surprise, Javi guides you over towards the champagne bucket. Pulling the bottle from the ice, he makes quick work of popping the cork and pouring two flutes. “To the beginning of our intimate journey.” He toasts.

“And the rest of our lives.” You tap your glass against his, the distinct tinkling assuring you that you’re drinking from crystal tonight.

Javi takes a sip, smiling at you and then he bends down to pick up a strawberry off the tray so he can hold it up to your lips for a bite. “Try the strawberry with this champagne.” He urges, noticing that Julius had outdone himself. There are plain strawberries and then some that are dipped in chocolate.

For all the decadent combinations you may have tried in your life, this is not one of them. It’s doubtlessly your imagination that makes the strawberry the sweetest you’ve ever tasted and the richest chocolate, too. It’s your imagination that makes the taste of the champagne around them transform, but even so you’re practically giggling with delight at the discovery of how perfect one makes the other — both enhanced tenfold when you have them together. “That’s amazing,” you hum, careful not to drip on yourself in any way whatsoever, and grinning like the lovestruck girl that you absolutely are.

The heated gaze that Javi gives you isn’t the calculated one the playboy prince might have given the object of his interest. It’s the look of a man completely in love with the woman in front of him. He hums, setting his own champagne flute down to cup your cheek. “Let me taste.” He murmurs, right before his lips descend on yours.

And all at once, there might as well not be anything else in the room — no furniture or flowers or paintings or treats — because nothing else in the entire world matters besides him. Javi licks into your mouth and you sigh for him, letting him explore you easily and remapping every inch of his mouth while your tongues dance and tangle together in earnest worship. He doesn’t move from kissing you. Content to spend the rest of his life right here with his lips on yours. Holding you close, he can feel you start to tremble in his arms.

It’s overpowering in the best way possible, and with your knees literally shaking and threatening to come out from under you, you grip his shoulders that much harder. There’s something thick and magical and true in the air between you tonight and it has you moaning softly into his kiss as you pull him closer.

Javi doesn’t want to breathe. Everything and everyone beyond the doors to this suite fade into obscurity and he tilts his head, deepening the kiss slightly.

Without being entirely sure how you got there, you can feel the wall at your back. The blanket over your senses that Javi has pushed everything else out of your awareness and you could not care less in this moment. All that matters is him — is now. The way he tilts his head and the way he grasps at your frame. The way you’ve already forgotten where you left your drinks. The way the candlelight makes both of you glow even though no eyes are open to see it.

“I love you.” He promises again as he manages to pull his mouth away from yours.

“I love you.” It can never be said enough, and his beautifully flushed cheeks and heavy eyelids make you grin unrepentantly. “More than I thought possible.”

“You will let me know if you want to stop.” It’s not a command, it’s not a question. It’s a fact in his mind. If you want to stop, you will say something. “Or if there is something you do not like.”

“And so will you.” Although you highly doubt either of you will stumble on that circumstance tonight, if he should decide his grief is still too strong, you want to make sure he knows you are willing to stop any time.

The thought of tonight had fueled him through the paperwork after your coronation ceremony. He picks up your hand and starts to kiss up your arm. "Never." He drops another kiss higher. "In." Kiss. "A." Kiss. "Million." Kiss. "Years." Kiss. "Amor." Kiss.

"Javi." Gently picking his chin up with two fingers, you press a kiss to his lips when his head is level with yours again. "Take me to bed, amor."

"I can do that." Javi isn't a virgin, but he's aware that your first time should be special. Sighing softly as he takes your hand and guides you towards the large bed that the two of you have been sharing. Now, it will be used for something more than cuddling and sleep. "Turn around, Margarita."

Doing as he asks, you shiver with your back to him. Giving him power over the situation would be scary if it was anyone else but with Javi there is only trust and anticipation. Whatever happens next, it starts with heated kisses and the feeling of his broad hands caressing your skin. "I'm going to untie your dress." Javi hums, his hand sliding over your shoulder and across your chest to where the tie is fastened. "Look across the room." He whispers in your ear. "The mirror."

"Shit Javi..." You would tell him that there is no need to seduce you. That you already want him enough to have no reservations about this. But the second you look up and find his eyes watching you in the mirror, you're mesmerized. Suddenly there are no protests, only a thick swallow of air and a soft nod of your head that tells him you will follow his instructions to the letter tonight.

"My beautiful Princess." He murmurs in your ear, smiling at the fascinated look in your eyes, the darkness in them. "I want you to see how I see you. See how wonderful you are."

"The only thing I see is you." And maybe it's cheesy, but it's true. Despite most of his body being behind you in the mirror, all you care about is watching him. His smile is shy, almost bashful as he starts to pull your dress loose. Untying it and sliding his hand underneath the material to push it off one shoulder.

Even though you went through quite a bit of gleeful planning to make sure he would have something beautiful to see under your dress, you're still nervous. Alright, you're borderline terrified. But despite that, you help his hand slide the dress away from your shoulders and force yourself to watch his reaction in the mirror – hoping that he at least likes what he sees.

“Margarita.” He breathes out your nickname in awe when the delicate, see through, pale pink lace of your lingerie is revealed. “You– you wrapped yourself up for me like a treasured gift.”

“Surprise,” you huff softly, feeling your cheeks burn at the wonder in his expression. The awe in his eyes is impossibly endearing.

“I am constantly surprised by how wonderful you are.” Now he lets the dress fall to the floor, groaning when he sees your full body in the mirror. “Te amo.”

“Te amo.” If he didn’t have you in precisely the position that he wanted in this moment, you would have whirred you around to kiss him instantly. As it is, his hands start to roam, making you gasp when he touches the most sensitive places on your skin and swallow the sighs of longing while you wait for him to touch more. “I’ve thought about this more than you might think.” He groans in your ear. “Since that first night. I had hoped this is where we would end up. Naturally.”

“And here we are.” His fingers glide down your arms to let his hands rest on your hips for a moment. “Just where we were meant to be.”

“Just where we were meant to be.” He drinks in the sight of the lingerie and he twitches in his pants. “Did you wear this on purpose or do you normally wear things like this?” He asks softly. He had always given you time to change before coming over to your room to sleep so he wasn’t aware.

“I’ve never worn anything like this before in my life,” you admit softly, feeling a little embarrassed about it but that’s overridden by how much he seems to like it. “This is just for you, amor.”

“You look beautiful.” He promises breathlessly. “But you look beautiful all the time.” His hands slowly slide over your skin, worshiping you with a gentle touch.

“You’re always so handsome…” Little touches leave you breathless tonight, the anticipation building right down to your bones. “I’ve always thought so. Since…since the first time I saw your photo.”

Javi is proud that you find him appealing. His hands continuously moving as he maps your body. Despite holding you every night, he had kept his hands in respectable places. Now, he can indulge. “You are like a goddess, an angel that tempts me and soothes me.”

Gently, almost afraid to spoil the moment, you turn carefully around in his arms and reach first for his tie. Slow, seductive, and incredibly romantic is a wonderful tempo for this night, but you want to have him on the same page as you.

Javi watches you as you start to pull his tie free. Giving you leave to do whatever you want with him. He’s yours and you are his. That is what the two of you have promised each other. “What do you want tonight, amor?”

"Just you." It's the truest answer to the easiest question he could possibly ask, and when you pull the silk tie from the collar of his shirt, you drape it carefully over your nightstand and turn back to him to take the cufflinks from his shirt before you unbutton it.

There is something poignantly intimate about being undressed. Certainly it has happened before, but this time strikes a chord inside him. The desire and love are equal in the depths of your eyes, and it makes him shudder in pleasure as your fingers graze his body had the buttons slip from their slot.

It is certainly more careful work to undress Javi, his suits always being carefully styled and meticulously tailored, but you don’t mind. It’s almost the opposite, actually. The privilege of being the one to be allowed to undress him practically makes you shiver with anticipation.

He can’t be passive. Now when you are looking like that and gazing at him like he’s Adonis. Reaching up, his hands slowly slide up your stomach, hovering just below your breasts, looking so mouthwatering in their lacy cups.

“You’re allowed to touch,” you remind him with a small laugh, wondering if he is as nervous as you are from the way he’s hovering but not quite crossing the line yet.

“That’s good, Margarita.” He hums softly. “I want to touch you, want to make you feel good.” His hands move up and cup you, groaning slightly.

As gentle as he is, that first little bit of truly intimate contact is divine as you peel his shirt away from his shoulders. He’ll have to take his hands off you to fully take it off, but you don’t want that yet. You want him to explore any way he wants…so you reach for his belt buckle with shaky hands instead.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He rasps out. “I feel lucky, undeserving of your love. Your touch.” He wants to make sure you know how much he is in awe of this moment.

“Undeserving?” No, you can’t agree with that. Instead you lean forward and press your lips to his as you slide his belt open. “Mi amor, you deserve the entire world.”

“I don’t know if that is true.” He huffs, cock hard and aching as your fingers move to the clasp of his suit pants. “You deserve a night you will never forget.”

“Then I already have everything I deserve.” Before you touch his zipper, though, you look up for one last moment of confirmation before completely undressing him. If he changes his mind at any point you will respect it, and that includes right now.

He nods quickly, knowing that he needs you to set the pace. This is your first time and he will let you have anything, do anything you want with him. “Go on, amor.”

It’s not as though you’ve never seen a man naked. And not as though you’ve never done things before. But Javi is different. He is important. He is the rest of your life. And you love him so much more than you thought would ever be possible. When you strip his pants away the pair of charcoal gray boxer briefs underneath leaves very little to the imagination, and your pussy clenches at the first glance of your hand over the front of his briefs when you pull his pants down.

“It helps.” He tells you with a small smirk. “The crown did not wish to have a camera on my pants when I was attending events.” He explains.

“So they have your pants taken out?” The realization that he has to be dressed specifically to hide how big his dick is, is a very interesting one indeed. One that has you sputtering slightly and makes your cheeks even hotter.

“Along with making sure that my penchant for not wearing underwear is kept to the family wing of the palace.” He isn’t joking, but it is amusing, remembering that conversation with his father.

“Javi.” You can’t help but laugh at that, the giggle built out of you with absolute disbelief. “You’re ridiculous, mi amor.”

“As long as you don’t believe I’m boring.” He hums, smirking at you and biting his lip when your fingers slip under the band of his boxers.

“Never.” The deep breath you take before peeling away his boxer briefs is really just for your own fortitude. Apparently, up to this point, you had only been with boys. Javi is…mouthwatering. And all over again you have no trouble believing anything you ever read about him as the playboy prince.

For his own part, Javi is nervous. Wondering what you might think of him. Hoping that he measures up to whatever expectations you have about him. He twitches slightly in the cooler air of the room, released from the confines of his briefs.

“You’re an absolute dream, mi amor,” you assure him, seeing the nerves written all over his face. Instead of going down to your knees, which is the first instinct you have, you stand up straight again and put both your arms around him, drawing him in close to be able to just hold each other for a moment and share a kiss. It’s clear you’re both anxious but eager and you let your hands map his torso and hips for a moment while you pour your reassurances into an increasingly deep kiss.

He had never known he would be so nervous when being with the woman he would marry. It’s almost as if he were a virgin himself, but the nerves melt away into the kiss and he starts slowly becoming bolder in his touch.

While the moans that he drags from your throat may have started out polite, they are definitely not anymore. They’re hungry and needy, coming from deep in your chest or even down around your belly where his cock is currently trapped between your bodies. No matter where the sound originates — it might be your toes for all you know — it shifts slightly when you start to step backward, knowing the side edge of your bed is only a few feet away.

“You wish to lay down?” He is more assertive right now, but he still checks in. Wanting to make sure you are ready to lay down.

“I think we’ll be less nervous,” you admit, even though the thought feels silly out loud. “We’re used to being in bed together.” That’s a good point. Javi guides you back to the bed and follow you as you lay down, kissing you as he kneels and crawls with you, his cock bobbing heavily between you.

Every piece of Javi’s clothing is discarded now, and you feel acutely aware of the lingerie that still hugs your finger. It’s far more than just the pinky ring left touching Javi’s finger, but it seems to be something he likes a whole lot so you’ll let him decide when it comes off.

“If I could paint, I would paint this moment.” Javi wonders, his lips against your throat and up your jaw. “Capturing it forever, mi amor.”

“This is only for you, mi amor.” One of his hands cradles your cheek and the other is slowly tracing your side, and you shift to urge it downward without rushing him. “There should be something that is just for us.”

“Oh, I did not mean that anyone would see it.” He huffs, smirking down at you in almost gentle lust. “It would be locked away where only I could view your beauty. Remember that I have a literal angel as a princess.”

“It wouldn’t be very angelic…” you hum, laying kisses along the hollow of his throat. “To let you paint me naked, mi amor.”

“I should take you to our museums.” He chuckles. “Plenty of nude angels frolicking.”

“Maybe we’ll find it inspiring?” You tease, sighing softly when his hand finds your thigh and his thumb grazes the soft skin so close to the silk and lace covering your core.

“I’m going to taste you, mi amor.” He hums as he rubs soft, enticing circles over your thigh before moving his thumb over a fraction of an inch to press against you through the lace. “I’ve imagined tasting you at least a thousand times since meeting you.”

“Javi.” His name is a bare, plaintive whisper, but that’s mostly because he’s taken your breath away about a dozen times already tonight. His sweet touches are growing bolder every moment and if you melt into the bed never to be heard from again, it will be worth every second. “Whatever you want, mi amor. I’m yours.”

“You are mine.” He groans. “Just like I am yours. And I take care of what is mine.” The little clasps of the lingerie make getting to your covered cunt easy, unhooking them to expose your folds to his hungry gaze. “Beautiful.”

It might have been fussy to get into, but Javi clearly has no problem peeling away the fabric covering those few last places on your body, and you swear that you might spontaneously combust just from the wash of hot breath over your sensitive skin. "Yours," you breathe out, watching every tiny movement. "Te amo."

“Te amo.” The sentiment, the promise, is whispered out right before his mouth descends on your most intimate places. The king gorging on his queen to be.

Instead of a shock or a jolt, you melt even further into the bed, moaning softly as your eyes flutter closed for one long moment before you pry them open again to watch everything. Javi’s mouth is bliss. Quick flicks where they feel best and long laps when that is exactly what you need. It has you twisting underneath him in no time, fingers tangling in the sheets and breath coming in needy pants.

You are so soft, so responsive to him. Giving him wordless praise as you move under his touch. Javi's touch stays soft, grip light as he lets you move your hips as you feel like you need to. Not anchoring you down, but allowing you both to drift along the bed.

Your fingers comb through his curls, not pulling or scratching but anchoring you to him in one more place. Since you’re always feeling like you could float away, an anchor seems like a good idea.

Javi has always been a giver, the love 'em and leave 'em playboy image had been crafted by the press, in their attempt to scrounge for whatever tidbits of information they could. All of his previous lovers had been bound by non-disclosure agreements, a necessity so there weren't interviews talking about the future king's prowess as a lover. If interviews had happened, they would have said that Javier was generous, slightly submissive and intimate every time he had touch one of them. Now, with you, he's even more so. Wanting his future queen to luxuriate in his arms, in his bed, to be pleased enough that you would never seek solace somewhere else.

Having had every intention of watching him as he indulges in you, his attention is too sweet. It comes in waves too strong to deny. The overwhelming pleasure has you closing your eyes and moaning softly so that it's just for his ears. It's extraordinarily indulgent and so intensely romantic that if your whole body wasn't on fire from pleasure you might be tearing up over how loving he is.

Javi hums into you, taking your sounds greedily and keeping them for himself. Memorizing how you sound, how you look this first time together.

The vibrations roll through you, every sound from his lips increasing the pleasure and caring you off on an absolute cloud. The coil in your core is starting to tighten too quickly and you know that as much as you want this to last forever, there will be so many more nights like it to come. And for that matter? This night has only begun.

Javi's fingers caress your skin, sliding over the slopes and planes, reveling in the divots and creases. Coming underneath his tongue and circling your entrance lightly.

Pants and whines come with your twisting body, back arching and eyes popping open to not only be as close to him as possible but to watch the exact moment that your body gives in to pleasure. The way his eyes have darkened with desire but never leave you gives you an extra shiver of arousal that rolls all the way through your body even as you cum.

This is moment where you are completely his. This moment. When your eyes burst open even wider than before and your entire body lurches up in pleasure as you start to come apart for him.

“Fuck, Javi!” When you can finally take a deep breath again, you comb your fingers through his hair and whimper into the candlelit night. “You’re incredible.”

He hums, deflecting the praise even as he preens. “You are incredible.” He insists. “So responsive.”

"And you're the one who gave me something to respond to." You won't let him wiggle out of accepting your praise, even if you're feeling too limp at the moment to wag a playful finger at him.

"Do you want more, my love?" He asks, softly, stroking your hip and hoping that the night will continue.

The fingers that were buried in his curls caress his cheek, and you nod eagerly. “I never want to stop,” you confess, already addicted to the way he touches you.

“Then we will never stop.” He promises, smiling indulgently. “All of our state affairs will be conducted right here in this bed.”

“That might be awkward for some of your advisors,” you laugh, loving the way he completely and totally indulges in both you and in this moment.

“Perhaps a screen between us and our visitors.” He teases, kissing up your body and smiling at the way you laugh. It’s gorgeous and completely encompassing him.

“That will solve everything.” A sage nod is bowled over by a moan as he kisses between your breasts and your head falls back on the pillows again.

“Beautiful, my beautiful queen.” He praises, tongue circling your nipple before he sucks it into his mouth.

A part of you wonders if this is how he always is with new lovers, or if he is being especially attentive and romantic because he knows what tonight is for you. The fact that he is the first and only man you'll ever be with in this way seems to make every feeling that much more heightened.

He works your tits until they are sore, aching with the attention he is lavishing on you. The small cry of pleasure you give is almost pained and it's beautiful in its pitch to his ears. Your thighs squeeze his torso and he chuckles as he kisses back up your body to your lips. "Are you ready, my love?" He asks softly, wanting to make sure you are wanting to take the next step now.

"Sí." You've been all but begging for him the entire time he's been between your legs, but at this point your mind is blank to absolutely anything else. "Please, amor. More. Por favor."

“I cannot deny you.” He promises, thankful that you do not want to stop. “Wish to give you the world, amor.” Reaching between you, his fingers wrap around his length and guide him to the position. “Now, I give you myself.”

It is a fitting tribute, considering how your world has narrowed down to only him, but the words to point it out are lost. With the slow, steady push forward, your mind fades to fuzz and your voice sticks in your throat for a moment before a deep moan cuts through the night air. Every small roll of his hips is ecstasy, filling you little by little, and you swear you’ve never felt anything as divine before in your entire life.

Javi takes his time, bracing himself over you. There's no fear of pain, no issue with the archaic bedding and taking of your virginity, but he still slowly rolls his hips forward. Wanting the feeling of taking him for the first time to be nothing but bliss for you as he kisses along your jaw.

You pant his name as he fills you, grateful not to feel any of the pinching or pain that you had heard warnings of from other girls as you grew up. The concept of virginity might be made up but there is still a very real physicality associated with it, and having an experienced partner makes all the difference. For you there is nothing but pleasure and the all-encompassing feeling of being surrounded by the man you want to give everything to.

“Beautiful.” He whispers the words into your skin. Finding the strength to hold back. With you, everything seems so smooth, organic. As if this was always meant to be, and in a way, it has. His hand slides behind your head and cradles it gently as he groans, buried completely in the warmth of your body and hopefully your heart.

"So good." With your face buried in his shoulder, you press kisses to his skin and roll your hips to adjust to the feeling of being so full.

“You are so perfect.” His tone is strained, holding back as he waits for you to be ready for more than just him inside you.

"You can move, mi amor." One more shift of your hips makes both of you moan, and you let your legs hitch up higher on his hips so he can sink that much deeper inside you. "Please move. God you feel amazing."

The kiss he gives you is tender, meant to soothe your restlessness as he draws his hips back. Groaning against your lips at how tight you feel, how right you feel. Javi isn't inexperienced, but he feels like he's never had sex before. At least not had an emotional or physical connection like this before.

There is nothing hurried tonight. No rushing. Nothing but bliss as the two of you start to move together. His hands wrap under you to hold you close, encourage your back to bend and arch into his body. Your arms come around him just as tight. Your breath comes in shallow pants. And it's perfect.

Every moan you give him is music, a note in his ear that makes him move. Worshiping you with his own body, giving you everything he has and it still isn't enough.

If there was a word more than perfect, you wish you knew what it was. You wish you could express just how extraordinary this moment feels. How right it all is. And how grateful you are that this is where life has brought the two of you. Instead, all you can see to conjure for words are gasps of his name and moaned praise with every drive of his hips.

Javi takes his time. There's no pace that he sets other than one to make sure that both of you feel everything. Languidly rocking his hips with murmured praises, and hushed gasps shared between you. Tears building up behind his eyes as he stares down at you in wonder.

“Want to— fuck, so good—try everything with you,” you manage to gasp out between moans, adoring the loving pace but wanting to experience as much as possible. Even during the first time.

"We will, amor." He promises, holding you close and giving a sharp thrust to change the tempo.

The way that has stars bursting behind your eyes is immediate and you cling to his shoulders that much more tightly with your fingernails biting into the soft flesh of his back as you moan.

You like that. Javi twitches inside you and gives you another thrust, hoping for the same reaction. Wanting you to enjoy every second you are in bed with him.

The different angle and sharper thrusts hits something different inside you. Like breath being pushed into you and out all at once. It makes your eyes burst open again before you squeeze them shut tight, trying to hold on to that sharp shot of pure pleasure.

"Is that what you like?" He murmurs in wonder. "You like it a bit faster? Harder?" He loves the way your entire body tightens under him and it's squeezing him tight. "Tell me what you need, amor."

You want to try everything, and you've told him that, but whatever he's doing now feels like a revelation. "How deep can you–" The thought is cut off with a moan. "If I – oh god – hold my legs?"

Javi leans back, pushing your leg up onto his shoulder and leans forward again. Pushing deep.

"Oh, fuck!" All at once your eyes roll back in your head and your mouth falls open. "Oh my god–so fucking good, baby."

He groans, eyes darkening with desire and love. "Want you to feel good. Want you to cum for me, amor."

Under normal circumstances you really would pride yourself on being more articulate, but every time Javi pushes his hips forward you temporarily forget how to even think, let alone speak. All you know for sure is that if he keeps doing what he's doing now, it will not take you long at all to fall apart for him again. "More," you moan out, fingernails biting half-moons in his shoulders. "You feel so good, amor."

“Give you ev-everything.” He moans, nodding as he rocks his hips and dips his head down to kiss you again. Needing the extra contact and it presses him deeper.

You gasp into his kiss, the change of angle and how deep he feels inside you making you feel like a firework about to explode. A shiver runs down your entire body that seems never to end and your core tightens with determination. When you cum for him this time it will hit you like a freight train and leave you wrecked.

His hips knock against the back of your thigh, pulling grunts out of him that he pours into you. Still holding you as tenderly as he can while he thrusts harshly.

“Javi—” The sound of his name is always sweet to your ears but right now it feels like it’s an absolute prayer. “I’m—I’m going to—oh god!”

Javi groans your name, loving that you are coming apart for him. Watching as your mouth drops open and your eyes go wide before they flutter closed.

This is your new definition of bliss. Head tossed back with Javi buried deep inside you while you fall apart at the seams, pussy clenching his cock so tightly that he loses his rhythm right along with you. Existing only with him in such a deeply intimate and personal moment is breathtaking.

His breath stutters, caught in his lung and he’s unable to think of anything but you. The grip you have on him and the way your body begs him to follow you into bliss has him giving in.

Truly you thought the feeling of fullness couldn’t be any more complete, and then he starts to cum. Painting the walls of your throbbing pussy with his seed and making you groan all over again while the two of you pant for breath and cling to each other in the collapsed heap of your bodies tangled in bedclothes. It’s the closest to whatever heaven is that you’ve ever felt in your life and you swear that if there really is such a thing as soulmates, this is what it feels like to be with yours.

Your skin is sweat slick and his own is equally damp. Making it warm and wet when he collapses against you and tucks his face into your neck. Kissing your pulse gently. "I love you." He whispers softly.

"Te amo." You turn your head to kiss him, basking in the glow of his affection and the adrenaline high that comes from sex in general. Sex with Javi is a whole other level.

"Te amo, my queen." He whispers, smiling against your lips and feeling like he is finally whole. This is what it's like. He hums in delight, hoping that this feeling never fades.

“My king.” It’s almost odd to acknowledge, having grown up your whole life in a country without a monarchy, but here he is. He is deeply loving, devoted, king, and he is your king. Loving him is as natural as breathing, especially in this moment of quiet between you.

Javi reluctantly moves, aware that you should not be pressed down by his weight for too long and he groans quietly as he pulls out of you. "Wait here, I will get something to clean you up."

“Don’t be gone long.” There’s nothing you want less than for him to leave you, but clean up is…rather important.

He smiles at you and nods before he hurries into the bathroom so he can get the cloth and slide back into your arms.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Javi Gutierrez #Javi Gutierrez x reader #Javi Gutierrez x you #Javi Gutierrez x female reader #Javi Gutierrez x f!reader #Javi G #The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent #TUWOMT #royalty au #arranged marriage

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staerplatinum · 22 days

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Some of my favorite doodles from my headcanon/redesign concept sheets used as an excuse to list my headcanons about the main six (for an AU that I'm writing)! More under the cut!

Charlie Morningstar:

She's way more hot-headed than in canon, albeit still keeping her cheerful and gentle persona.

She loves food, and she's always hungry. I always loved the trope of protagonists (both male and female, like look at Goku himself, Usagi Tsukino or Minako Aino) and I think it could fit Charlie perfectly!

She loves planning (and this is already canon) and she has a lot of stationary gadgets. "Sure Alastor, you can borrow any pen! ... Not that one! :D" And takes good care of them.

Her birthday is February 29th. I thought that it wouldn't be strange if her birthday ended up being that day if she follows a demoniac calendar...

Vaggie:

It's canon that she likes everything to be clean and organized. I think she would help Niffty with the rooms and everything! They bond!

She and Angel Dust absolutely have BFFs vibes. Before Hazbin Hotel I remember they were meant to be a couple, but with the new canon they're still adorable as best friends and I love the dynamic more. They get into fights but it's never anything serious, they look like a big brother and a little sis, even though sometimes she definitely acts as a big sis to him. Angel sees Molly through her :(

As we know she doesn't really believe in herself, but she actually makes a very good leader!

In my fanfic, contrarily to the series, she was really fighting with burning hate towards the angels that cast her out. She holds a deep grudge and it's hard for her to come out of it. (I want Out for Love to be useful, it's my favorite song ç_ç)

Her name as a human was Agata Flores, she was born the 28th of June in 1993. If we still count 2014 as her death and if she was once a winner that then became sinner... my headcanon is that she died of a hate crime in March 25th 2014, aged 21.

Angel Dust:

He's not in drag 24/7. He really is feminine, but sometimes likes to try masculine outfits too. (which make Husk wonder "why am I staring??")

He's secretly a nerd. Or not so secretly. He owns video games, and especially likes RPGs and life sims.

He overanalyses everything. Well, almost everything but still. He actually likes reading, and this led him to analyse anything that comes into his eye. (Oh, I can't wait to write one of those scenes because I already had fun outlining it LMAOO)

He's probably Charlie's food buddy. Give them some food and they'll be happy (Valentino doesn't like this but get screwed Val, give him food too)

His name as a human was Anthony (canon) Cavallaro and had Neapolitan heritage. He's born in April 1st (and this is canon) 1912, he died of overdose (canon) in October 11th 1947, aged 35.

Alastor:

I loved his pilot persona more than the series', and most of the things are confirmed canon... but I do have some headcanons for him, too! (also yeah I don't think that will be my last radioapple drawing or doodle lol)

We know he either doesn't sleep or sleeps with his eyes open. Well, I imagine him that in the few rare occasions he actually sleeps, his radio works as a mental surveillance "camera". Also, he's a light sleeper and would definitely go "Do you fellows mind? I'm trying to sleep." like the old man he is.

I would like to explore Alastor's feelings for Charlie more, and how he sees her as a daughter. While we may not know if he was telling the truth, I think they both seeked each other as a fatherly and daughter figures in a way. Many in the fandom headcanon Alastor's father to have been shitty to him. If he truly sees Charlie as a daughter, it could be because he would like to be a better father than the one he had, and since he never had children, he grew affectionate to Charlie as such.

He knows how to handle alcohol well, but I like to think that when he's really drunk he doesn't even know what he's doing. Oh, you saw him playing with Angel's Nintendo Switch? He even brought it into his room to continue playing Animal Crossing by himself? He was totally wasted.

His name as a human was Alastor (which is apparently canon, but I wonder if it'll be retconned or not?) Boudreaux-Alexander. Boudreaux was his father's last name, Alexander was his mother's. He didn't like his mother taking her husband's last name and wanted to keep his mother's. He was born in March 7th 1901, and died in August 4th 1933, aged 32, after being shot by a hunter that confused him with a deer and was mauled by dogs afterwards. (Yikes, I'm so sorry)

Niffty:

She definitely has written lots of fanfics about her fellow hotel friends. Especially men. Yet, she loves Charlie and Vaggie too, so they're there as well.

We know both Niffty and Husk have deals with Alastor. She loves them both, I love to headcanon that when she feels lonely and can't sleep well or had nightmares, she either goes to Husk's or Alastor's room to sleep with them. They welcome her warmly ç_ç

Alastor and Husk most definitely know Niffty's story, which is why they care about her so much. She's childish for her age, but it could be tied to a past that only the two of them know very well.

Niffty knew Vox when they were alive. Now I know it could be a weird headcanon since Niffty is Japanese and Vox is American, but if Niffty's work brought her around the world it wouldn't be weird if they crossed paths. When Vox died Niffty was 19, she either saw him die in front of her eyes or something else happened.

As I mentioned in my concept sheets, she used to wear glasses when she was alive so she can't see really well without them after she died. Sometimes she borrows Alastor's monocle, and if we apply the headcanon that he's colorblind, without his monocle not only he can't see anything but can't even see colors LOL

Her name when she was alive was Sachiko Tanaka, born February 27th 1934. She died September 1st 1956, aged 22, there are popular headcanons about the way she died and yikes, if it's true she didn't have a good death either. Not at all.

Husk:

Maybe I'm overanalysing but what if the reason why he grew affectionate to Niffty was because he once had children? Or just one? Either he had a child and was with him but felt like he wasn't a good father or his ex-wife left him because of his gambling addiction and this made him feel guilty, not able to see his child ever again. (I feel bad just thinking about this but ç_ç)

Despite the fact he hates being on a leash and none other than Alastor's, he actually cares about him. If the two were friends when they were alive (including Mimzy), this could explain why he's still around Alastor even if reluctantly. (Sure he says he's forced, but in the pilot Alastor summoned him, so it's safe to assume either Alastor-Husk-Niffty were roommates before coming to the hotel and did their business without telling Alastor, or simply we need more explanations of Alastor's deals)

His name when he was alive was Ivan Goncharov, born January 29th 1900, and died in December 23rd 1967, aged 67. As I mentioned in my concept sheets, he was friends with Alastor and Mimzy when they were alive and he was the last one of them to die. He would often visit his friends' graves when he was still alive :(

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lcthescribe · 2 years

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To the “failed , forgotten, forsaken and frustrated” dads :

“Sing to God! Sing praises to His name. Exalt Him who rides on the clouds—His name is the LORD—and rejoice before Him.

A father of the fatherless, and a defender of the widows, is God in His holy habitation.

God settles the lonely in families; He leads the prisoners out to prosperity, but the rebellious dwell in a sun-scorched land.…” | psalm 68:5-6

When we look beside us and you aren’t there. When we look behind us and you were topsy-turvy trying to find peace in the bottom of a bottle. Or your self hatred and harrowing emptiness became paint bruises on the canvas of those you’re supposed to love. When we remember and the memory is marred with the scars you made on you. When you couldn’t be and wouldn’t be what our expectations drew up about you and the story. We licked our lips with lies we rather believe than the truth we made no effort to receive. We made our tongues shears to the head of our head and cursed the name of the one who was supposed to name us. We vandalized the walls of our progenitors with profanity because we couldn’t dig through our pain to see purpose or the hand of the Paraclete. We cursed you to be a “dead beat” because of what you failed to be with no consideration to the wars you fought with yourself and lost. So you became forgotten and forsaken dads. You were forgotten because you didn’t make enough of a memory that brought forth fruitful tree. You were forsaken because someone else told us what we should believe or you made a mistake or you were stuck in a cycle we didn’t have patience to pay for your release. You became frustrated because of what life seem like it made you to be, what you couldn’t blame and what was breached. You became full of falsities and forced entries, a fortress of your misfortunes and you ended up giving up on everything.

Maybe you didn’t even ask for these things, you ended up like the man you never wanted to be or a picture of the paternal patriarch that punctured you and your purpose and dreams. Maybe no one told you that you could be restored and redeemed. That from your torment and torture you could be free. Maybe you were so afraid you found false comfort in the hand of the enemy. Maybe you were so impatient you opted for an Ishmael rather than the issac of your dreams. Maybe you lived your own Lot even when a loved one tried to take you with them on their journey though you were supposed to be separated because no one removed the veil so you could see. Maybe you were abandoned and the absence turned toxic that it caused you to abort what you were always meant to carry so now your heart turned Absalom and you now carry jealousy and envy of your father’s future and dreams. Perhaps you spent your days being a trickster and you turned over your turban and lost to a Laban. Or that your abstract and ambiguous identity was never made clear for you to see so you abdicated your inheritance to feed and you lost your love and never recovered now your heart turned Ahab and you became a wicked king. There are many strings and threads in your story and all we know is what you were and weren’t to the ones who needed you most. But there are a few who know that you weren’t always what you were.

There is a Father in heaven whose name is hallowed. His will, will be done on earth as it is in even for He is sovereign. He is the Father of Abraham, Issac and Jacob. The Father God of all the nations. But he is the Father of your father even back beyond ten generations. He is your father. He is the father to the fatherless whether yours was there or not, there and failed, not there and forgotten or there or not there and frustrated. He is the father of all fathers and it is His doing that you became a father.

You may have failed, failed perpetually. You may be forgotten or forsaken. You may have given up trying or feel like giving up trying but l tell you look up. Look in and breathe. Open your eyes and see the man who made thee. The man who is a father and sent his only begotten son to endure and feel all you could and would. Was crucified and forsaken for a moment that you may be fixed in his arms for eternity. He is not your enemy though life makes it out that way for it to seem. He has called and blesses thee. He is the one before all that forgives you and makes you redeemed. He is the father of eternity and has made it is so that you become a son. He is the one who won so that your weaknesses can wane when his grace comes and his strength can be perfected in them. You don’t have to be a man to stand before the only one you can be a broken boy and all you never wanted to become. For he is a father who picks you and turns you into a Son, fashions you on His potters wheel so you can be forged into a Father.

You maybe frustrated, forgotten or forsaken but you are not to the great Father. He made no mistake when he made you and said yes that one. It is very good. You are not a failure nor a forsaken or forgotten one. You are still a father and can still and are becoming one. Fix yourself before his feet in a posture of humility. Cry, weep, plead, break open the levees where all your held up dreams, hopes and want to’s seethe. Draw out your desires from the lake in your chest cavity with the fish hook of the Fathers truth about you. Yes he sees you and knows you. It’s not too late for you. Forsake the father of lies and forge ahead into the future written out by the breath inked pen of the father of lights. Your days may be dark but he is the light upon your path and the lamp unto your feet. He knows you were born in sin and shaped in iniquity and your head is full of inquiries. He knows you weep and bleed though you hide it behind your masculinity because you don’t want to make it known that you don’t measure up to what the world says about the man you’re supposed to be. Who made thee? Fashioned your in your own mothers womb? Who has knowledge of your days from the end to the beginning? Not them in the world or your own children but Him, who is Elohim.

You are what he says and in your repentance in your receiving of redemption you will find hope where you only thought you could bleed. You will become what you never imagined or dreamed because He causes you to be, your breath is on his commanding sound not that of the enemy or your failed track record and dreams. He is God, surrender and there you will see you are a father because you are a son no matter what your children think. Whom the son sets free is free indeed and he has come to release you from the shackles of society won’t you just believe? Believe Him not you or me but the one who made thee. The one who formed you in eternity. Freedom in your fatherhood is found before the face of the first and only, just forgive and flee the lies of the enemy. Truth and light shall guide and hide thee. Forgive who you were, are and thought you would be so you can become what he has said you would be. Before your children are yours, you are His and their opinions and pains don’t change your destiny. Be a son and be a father. You are not fatherless fix your eyes on Him. “You have heard, O LORD, the desire of the humble; You will strengthen their hearts. You will incline Your ear, to vindicate the fatherless and oppressed, that the men of the earth may strike terror no more.” (Psalm 10:18-19) your vindication is in Him and so is your identity. You are not the words of your mistakes , the story of your pain or the lies of your enemies. You are a father. Receive peace, forgive and be free. The truth of who you are is celebrated in heaven you see. So happy Father’s Day. Be fruitful and multiply on earth God’s dream. Happy Father’s Day. You are loved and He never will leave, forsaken never will you be.

#lydia flores #writing #journal #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #to a #toa22 #handwritten letters #letters #dads #father’s day #happy fathers day #father

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spliffymae · 1 year

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WRITTEN OFF.

synopsis: did toji think he would get his reality check from his teenage son? no, but he also didn’t think he’d lose you as a wife…things happen.

⚠️ blackfem!reader, mentions of underage drug use, mentions of cheating, megumi gives toji emotional hell, toji feeling guilty as sin!

kio’s notes - third installment purrr ! y’all this ran on so another part is coming lmao. but this part really focuses on toji and megumi’s dynamic. also part 4 is gonna be the LAST part. scouts honour🤞🏽

pt.1 , pt.2 :)

now playing:

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toji never realized how big he actually was. like, he never took in account how big his hands are, how they used to engulf yours in a hold.

he never noticed how much of the space on your bed he took up. he would always sleep with you tucked under his arm, so he expected to be sharing a decent and equal amount of space with you. but oh was he wrong. toji would sprawl out on the bed with you tucked into one side, like a child holding on to their stuffed teddy bear for dear life.

he paid no mind to the way parents at megumi’s school would gawk when he would show up for an after school fundraiser or event. it was rare, that he would make an appearance, but when he did he was always met with the longing eyes of the teachers, the narrowed envious eyes of some fathers, and the flirty quips from other kids’ mothers.

toji was a big man, but never took his size into account. that is, until, his first day as a single father. rin was lying in his bed watching bluey as he sorted through some files for his next mission.

now, toji hadn’t been paying attention to the show. honestly he didn’t know what a bluey was. all he knew was it was the only show that kept his little girl happy, so it was the only show he played when she was awake.

you had dropped rin to him for the first time when she was six months. toji was clear with you he wanted her after the first couple months because he knew how dependent she was and he couldn’t provide that for her. so he began to get her regularly after her six-month mark.

but as she sat with her pacifier in her mouth, snuggled back against toji’s pillow, she reached out for her fathers hand. her tiny hand grabbed his index finger, the digit itself was all she could fit in her palm and toji sworn his heart doubled in size. toji hadn’t realized just how big he was until rin pulled his hand to her, and his hand alone covered her entire torso.

toji took his attention off the files and picked up his baby girl, giving rapid kisses to her chubby cheeks. rin’s giggles were heard over the sound of the show, her noise bringing toji to smile. he missed hearing her laugh.

it had been a rough three months since the incident with megumi. you hadn’t stopped him from seeing rin, but after the way things ended he threw himself in work to avoid facing you and her. don’t get him wrong, he loved his daughter with every fiber of his being. he would carry the weight of the world if she asked him. but god, did his heart not twinge every time he was around her.

how could it not? she looked just like you!

she reminded him of everything he could’ve had. the playful banter on how she looked like you but loved him; the four of you sitting at the dining table enjoying family dinners; the warm and comforting knowledge that after every gruesome and god awful mission, he had a family to return home to.

he had none of that.

instead he had a three bedroom apartment that was empty every other week. he had silence to come home to after missions. he had no one to come home to, megumi split his time between you house and toji’s, but stayed mainly with you because you lived closer to his school, to his friends.

(he also preferred to come home to a present parent, but left that out of his explanation to toji—y’know, for obvious reasons.)

speaking of, megumi has walked into his fathers room with his phone pressed to his ear, being held by his shoulder. he held a bowl of dissolvable crackers and a sippy cup of water.

“yeah umi, she’s good….okay, will do…have fun tonight.” he put the snack and drink on toji’s nightstand and grabbed his phone to hang up. he looked down at his sister, who was holding onto her dad’s shoulder to stand as she looked at the show.

“looks like you’re with me when we go home tonight, rinny.” megumi smiled and took up a cracker, handing it to his sister. rin’s eyes shifted from the tv to the food, smiling and spitting out her pacifier. she grabbed onto the cracker and began to go to town on it.

“why just you two?” toji piped up. he watched as megumi sat on the side of his bed, lying back so rin was now between the two. the young fushiguro put his arm behind his head and crossed his legs.

“umi’s goin’ out. told me to make sure rin gets bathed when we get home.” megumi was nonchalant with his delivery.

he wasn’t stupid, he knew what had happened between the two of you. he knew about his fathers betrayal and frankly, he couldn’t grasp what his father was thinking. megumi knew toji was an asshole, he knew that there was no other as dense and selfish as toji, yet he was always able to give his father the benefit of the doubt.

that was until he broke your heart, and in the process, the family you two had created. megumi couldn’t give the benefit of the doubt. not that time.

he was disgusted in his father’s actions. he felt like toji betrayed him. why would he ruin such a good thing for his son?

“why didn’t she call me? rin coulda slept over here.” toji spoke with a bit of a hurt tone. he was rin’s father. after you, it was him who was her guardian. why did it feel like you trusted megumi with rin more than him, her own father?

megumi sighed, “do you have a mission tomorrow?” he asked, turning his head to look at his father. toji was staring at rin, who now sat on the bed, resting against her older brother’s crossed legs. she was still deep into her show, not paying any of them any kind.

toji couldn’t help but feel jealous. rin wasn’t a big cuddler with him. at most she would only hold his hand. she would never lie on him the way she did megumi.

“m’not sure. awaiting a green light from a client so…” toji mumbled back.

“anddd that’s why.” megumi said, turning back to look at the tv.

toji knew, but god did he hate it.

the unpredictability of his job. not knowing when he’d get a client’s call, when he’s have to leave to go off somewhere. of course he couldn’t keep rin. hell, he couldn’t keep megumi. that’s why he gave him to you in the first place.

“i just need you to watch him whenever i go on missions.” he had said to you as he held a sleeping megumi in his arms. the boy was about nine or ten when toji first arrived at your doorstep. he had gotten your address from geto, a mutual friend.

“i watch pets, fushiguro. not kids. did geto not clarify that with you?” you would watch geto’s snakes while he went on missions, and would often house sit for gojo—but never kids. that was too much of a responsibility.

“think of it as just…a very big pet. please, i have no one else and i’ll pay you well. moneys not a problem.” toji was desperate.

you rolled your eyes but open your door so he could come in, “there’s a guest room upstairs, put him there and wake him up to explain what’s happening. and i want a million yen for this.”

toji smiled, his heavy boots hitting your hardwood floors as he walked megumi to the stairs and up to the room. “ ‘preciate ya, darlin’.”

“whatever.” he muttered in respond to megumi. he didn’t say anything after that. no, instead he went back to his file, looking through the different pages of information on his target.

his phone vibrated from his night table, it was a text.

geto

drinks tonight? say 8?

toji responded ‘yes’, and asked geto where they’d be meeting. god knows he needed a drink. he needed a break from all this.

the two fushiguro men sat with rin between them, neither of them speaking to each other. megumi was mindlessly scrolling on his social media timeline, every now and again texting his group chat with yuji and nobara.

the day after he came home high, he didn’t even try to explain himself to his dad—not because he couldn’t, because he didn’t want to. all he did was send a quick text apologizing for the incident and left it at that.

but you?

the young man showed up at your door with a cheesecake he bought from the bakery up the road as a sorry for inconveniencing you. he promised to give you a weekend of rest and he’d take care of rin as his way of thanking you for coming to get him.

“you don’t have to do that, megs.” you had turned his offer down with a soft pat to his cheek and a warm smile. “i just want you to be okay, love…are you?”

and god, megumi could feel his whole facade of a nonchalant persona break from your question. he wasn’t okay—not in the slightest! all he wanted was a family under one roof, a unit of loyalty and trust.

but instead, he was going back and forth between his father and you. between absence and presence, inconsistency and a pattern. he hated it. he wanted to scream, to shout—beg you to take his father back. not for toji’s benefit (he could give a crap about that), but for him. he had gone to long without parental stability. and when you came into the picture he was positive he finally had what he had longed for. a mom, a family.

“m’okay, umi. promise.” he swallowed back his plea and presented you with a happy-less smile. it didn’t reach his eyes, and unfortunately for megumi, you took note of that. you had become a master at faking a smile.

“i love you, megumi. and you can talk to me about anything that’s troubling you, you know that.”

and he did. he knew if he had any problem, any question, any feeling…you would be there to help him solve it.

except this one. he couldn’t ask you to help him with this one. it would be selfish to ask you to go back to toji for him, for rin.

no, he couldn’t ask you to do that. but he could ask for answers. and what was the luck he was in the room with the only man that had them. “i do them because of you, the drugs.” he said to break the silence.

toji stopped what he was doing and looked at megumi with narrow eyes, “do? hell you mean do?” because it wasn’t the fact it was because of him that got toji’s attention—he knows he fucked up his son. but it was megumi’s tense of the verb. it wasn’t past.

“it’s mainly weed.” he said casually, adding a shrug to further prove his nonchalance. “i smoke some weed or i take a pill. it helps me forget, disassociate.”

rin had fallen asleep with her head against his thigh, her afternoon nap sneaking up on her when she least expected it. megumi rubbed her back in soothing small circles.

“you’re a kid, megumi. there’s nothing for you to disassociate from.” toji dismissed his son, but he knew you’d slap him across his head for it. that wasn’t what needed to be said. but how did he know what to say? you were so much better at megumi’s feelings then he was.

megumi shook his head with a dry chuckle leaving his lips, “you ruined my youth, dad. the least you could do is not act like i’m making all this up.” megumi gave him a knowing look, one to tell him to cut the act.

he knew his father. hell, he knew his father better than the older man knew him. he knew toji’s tells and mechanisms, kind of like you did. he was observant like you.

“it’s not like i planned this, alright? losing umi wasn’t in my new year goals.” toji snapped back. he was growing tired of the guilt in his stomach. it was a hot and icky mess that he felt no ease from. even after months of not speaking to you, he still felt the same guilt.

“why’d you do it, then? umi was the only one to put up with your bullshit. she was there for me and you when we needed her. she gave us everything.” megumi was unpacking all his feelings. he was fed up, and rightfully so. because why did he always have to pay the price for toji’s idiocy?

toji had heard enough. his sons words weren’t helping the raging guilt in his body. they definitely weren’t soothing the heartache in his chest. he packed away the files and placed them back in his briefcase. he shut it and slid it under his bed. “i don’t gotta explain myself to you, brat.”

he got up to leave, which was comical to him. it was his apartment. it was his roof, his room. and yet he felt powerless under it with his son and daughter there.

“of course you don’t—you never do. but you will, to rin. when she gets older and asks you why she can’t remember you, or why she has more memories with umi’s new boyfriend than you. you don’t think she’s going to wonder why she barely has photos of you? or why you and her mom don’t speak? what do you say then, dad? you shut her down the way you shut me down?”

again, it wasn’t what megumi was saying—well it was. but there was a certain bit that really struck toji. he had stopped in his tracks, right at his room’s door.

“…what boyfriend?”

pt. 4

#🌞🍃spliffymae #jjk⋞〈⏣》⋟#anime x black!reader #SoundCloud #toji fushiguro x black reader #toji x reader #cheating #megumi fushiguro #jjk x black reader #angst #jjk toji #baby daddy toji

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