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#something to look at while the fam is in the air
ladybugsimblr · 8 months
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I don't know what she asked for, but I know she got it 😏 #Spoiled
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gumycandyyy · 7 months
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୨♡ "At Your Beck And Call" ♡୧
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Trying out a oneshot! Or something like that idk.
Winter King x reader
Romantic
GN reader
RQ: nah fam, I accept requests though!
Word count: 1390
No use of y/n
Summary: You're adventuring through this interesting little world, and find yourself in a snowstorm. Next thing you know, you're in some kind of ice palace. What happened?
Walking through the snow, you look up into the sky. Cloudy. Best be quick.
A chilly breeze sneaks through the fabric of your shirt and deep into your bones. It would've been better if you'd brought a jacket. Though you didn't think your wish prepared you for that.
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"I wish..."
"You better think about this hard, dude. You only get one."
"Okay, okay. I wish... Hm..."
"Want a pickle?"
You agreed to Prismo's offer, gladly taking the snack. You crunched while you thought. Man, these were good pickles.
"Okay man, I'll admit I got nowhere to be, but you were kinda interrupting me. I was watching TV."
You tell Prismo that he can watch while you think, as you hadn't thought you would make it this far. He shrugged, and pressed a button on his remote.
You saw him flipping through channels rapidly, looking for one in particular.
"Hey, Prismo."
"Hm?"
"Are those just.. Shows? Or-"
"Oh, they're universes. Y'know, the multiverse theory right? I just get to watch everything. Perks of being an omnipresent god-type thing."
You think about your wish for another few moments. You snapped your fingers, and Prismo paused the TV.
"You know what you want?"
You nodded, rubbing your hands together.
"I wish that I-" "Be descriptive. Just in case, Y'know?"
You sighed with an exasperated smile. Taking a deep breath, you asked your question.
"I wish that I had the ability to travel freely and safely through the multiverse at will."
Prismo coughed loudly, as if choking on something. He took a deep breath, sighing.
"Okay, okay. So- I actually don't know if I'm allowed to do that."
"sigh."
"Did- did you just say 'sigh'?"
Prismo shook his question off, and sighed himself. He explained to you what he was and wasn't allowed to do, and how you were in a gray area of the rules. He finally shrugged.
"What could go wrong?"
He snapped his fingers, and suddenly you weren't in the time-cube-thingy anymore. You were in a grassy field. You felt something in the back of your pocket, and bringing it out, you saw a small pocket watch.
There was a note folded up and taped to the back of it. The handwriting was almost too small to see.
Yo, this thing is weird, right? Just wind the clock when you wanna change universes.
Don't break it.
I'm serious, this thing is expensive.
So armed with nothing but your wit and a pocketwatch, you traversed throughout the multiverse.
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You wished that you would've added 'immortality' to Prismo's wish.
The wind was picking up, whipping your hair around. You looked into the sky, seeing the clouds grow dark, and snow beginning to sprinkle. It was almost astounding how quickly the weather could change.
A few stray snowflakes blew straight into your mouth as you breathed in, causing you to cough. The wind whipped through you, and the snow fell into your eyes. The sky was as dark as ever, and the snow clumping to your feet made it hard to walk.
You wish you thought of bringing a jacket.
You really wish you thought of bringing a jacket.
It didn't even occur to you to leave this universe, you were too cold to think. Stumbling around in this white wasteland, you wondered if there were any towns nearby.
Just as you thought of that, you saw a light in the distance. Struggling to climb up an embarrassingly small hill, you saw a glowing little town next to a palace probably around a quarter mile away. It looked to be made of ice, but that might just be you blurred vision.
You staggered through the snow, just trying to make it to the town.
You stop in place when you realize you can't feel a single thing in your body. Breathing in deep through your nose and cringing at the chilled air, you decided to use up the last of your energy to get to that little town as quickly as possible.
Bringing your arms up and crossing them, you tried to keep as much warmth to your chest as possible. After getting within about 100 paces to the town, you were ready to collapse. You heard light and seasonal music playing from the town, and hummed along deliriously.
People were ice skating on a small lake near you, and you tried to call for help.
But you couldn't get out more than a whisper.
Collapsing into the snow, your vision blurred and darkened. Just as you were about to lose consciousness, you heard a voice.
"Ice scouts! Come help this-"
Then you were out.
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The next thing you knew, you were inside some glittering blue room. Was this place made of ice? Impossible, you were warm. Looking down, you saw that you were covered in blankets. Fluffy, Warm, blankets... You almost wanted to fall back asleep...
You sat up quickly, realizing you didn't know where you were. You then heard a soft voice from your bedside.
"Oh, you're awake. How are you feeling?"
You looked to your side, seeing a man sitting in a chair, reading some book. You couldn't see its title. The man had light blue skin, white hair, a long nose, and sparkling eyes.
You noticed he was dressed quite elegantly, and a crown sat atop his head.
"Who are you?"
He blinked for a moment, and laughed softly while slapping his forehead. He stood up, brushing himself off.
"Forgive me for not introducing myself. My name is the Winter King. You'd passed out in the snow when my ice scouts and I were not but twenty feet away from you!"
You introduced yourself,and tried to remember what exactly happened, but couldn't. You just had to take the Winter King's word for it.
Wait..
Winter King.
You quickly apologized for being so nonchalant with royalty, but Winter King stopped you.
"Oh, no need for such formalities. You are a guest. It's my duty to serve you. If it would make you feel better, you may just call me Winter."
He sat down again, looking at you. Not in a creepy way, just... curious.
You nodded, taking a deep breath. The air was cold, but not nearly as dreadful as the blizzard outside. You then realized something strange. You asked Winter why it hadn't been pouring snow in the town. He laughs softly, smiling gently at your question.
Man, he was pretty.
"Oh, my dear, I have control over this domain. From every ice sculpture to every snowflake. While sometimes I cannot control the weather, I can however, keep it from affecting my town."
From your basic understanding of magic logic, this seemed plausible enough. You went to stand up, but suddenly felt very fatigued, your legs wavering. Winter stood up from his seat, ready to catch you if need be.
You cleared your throat, sitting down. Only then did you realize how much your throat hurt. You coughed for a moment, trying to get this scratchy feeling out. Winter noticed what you were doing, then gently clapped his hands. A person- looking to be made out of ice- skated into the room, holding a tray with a glass of water on it.
You thanked the little ice servant, and thanked Winter.
Winter seemed a little perplexed that you thanked the servant, but carried on, as it wasn't anything to fuss about.
"I see you're sick. Sometimes I can forget that people aren't immune to the effects of my wondrous realm."
He seemed to be really proud of his little winter wonderland. You looked out a massive window to see the town below.
The town.
You were in the castle.
Huh.
"However, I am more than willing to aid you throughout your journey to regain your health!"
This man cannot be real. He's so incredibly kind! You've never really met any royalty, but you guessed that Winter was pretty much the nicest king in history.
You sneezed into your elbow, then cleared your throat once again.
"Rest for now, my dear. Though, if you need anything, don't be afraid to ask. I am at your beck and call."
Winter bowed, then gracefully slid out of the room. You forgot the floor was made of ice. Snuggling into the plush pillows and multiple blankets, you closed your eyes,
and drifted off.
︵‿︵‿T B C‿︵‿︵
My first Winter King oneshot! This was so fun to make. Tell me if you'd like a part two!
reblog for a beginner writer?
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Your complimentary WK fanart ^^
Please send asks! I love writing prompts!
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artemismoorea03 · 9 months
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DP x DC: Deaths Song
Mostly have DC in mind for this one but again, it could work for Marvel too.
Danny is quiet no matter which form he's in. He's quiet and withdrawn from the rest - sure when they ask him a question or it's a topic he knows stuff about or interested about he can go on forever! Typical traumatized teenager with big interests and no outlet.
He's as helpful around the house as he is on the streets, helping Alfred reach the otherwise impossible crevices of the manor which would otherwise only get cleaned twice a year. He doesn't complain and will often offer his help just to keep busy.
It's during one of these 'spring cleaning' events that Alfred hears it for the first time.
Danny is singing.
It's quiet and muttered, but it's there. Alfred doesn't comment and instead listens to the voice as it stays soft. It's hard to tell from where he is standing but from what he can tell it sounds like he's singing in another language.
He discovers later it's French.
One by one the rest of the Bat-Fam catch Danny or Phantom mindlessly singing when he's doing something absent mindedly or when he doesn't think anybody is listening. Each time it's a different language which is impressive on it's own but what they're more focused on is the fact that Danny feels safe enough to sing.
Like a bird once caged and trapped he was finally starting to share his songs once again.
The Justice League has no idea about Danny's past though, just one of many tightly guarded secrets about the newest member's history. They know he's half-human, that he protected Amity park for years without any help from outside sources but they have no idea about the hells he went through.
So while they're all reading through debriefs and looking through paper after paper they're all caught off guard when he starts gently singing to himself once again. It's in English this time and just an absent minded action which Batman had grown used to.
It made the others freeze though and look towards Phantom as he continues singing, completely unaware of his own actions as he floats above his chair, laying in thin air as though there was a table under him.
In the end it's Flash who breaks the silence, not by commenting on the singing but instead joining in as he goes through his own paperwork. Phantom tenses, looks at Flash as the other members look down but as Flash continues Phantom starts singing again.
One by one the league joins in, even those who hadn't originally lived on Earth had learned the iconic song and those who hadn't learned it quickly enough.
Soon the paperwork was forgotten as the energy in the Watch Tower got more and more energetic, as Phantom and Flash were the first ones who got out of their seats to dance but they were far from the last. Captain Marvel joined in and little by little others did. They broke their character little by little.
Something Batman couldn't understand until he saw the look on Phantom's face. A genuine toothy grin surrounded by almost teary grins of some of the heroes. They weren't acting like fools because they had too much energy but because in the minds of the Justice League they were making a dead kid smile.
"Come on, B! Join in!" Flash said, and Batman sighed.
He was the last one at the table but the look on his newest sons face was impossible to ignore. Finally he got up and stood by Danny, humming softly and clapping while the others continued to sing and even do the actions along with the song.
Later, long after the meeting was over and they were getting ready to leave somebody made the comment;
"Who would have thought the Song of the Dead was YMCA."
Which caused Danny to bend over with wheezing laughter.
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moodymisty · 3 months
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Everyone wants Lorgar carnally until he says grace before giving head. Or when he recites verses that describe the world’s beauty while he gently caresses your body. Or when you’re having sex and he starts whimpering prayers upon prayers about how wonderful you are, how much he loves you, how he wants you so badly, how he’s utterly yours (he’s not even doing it deliberately, it’s like singing your praises is second nature to him). Or after you’ve finished, when he lies down on your bed and looks at you with complete and total reverence. You can see that in this moment, to him, you are the only thing that’s real. The lamp on his desk is illuminating you like a halo, or maybe it’s not even the lamp at all, maybe it’s just you. Lorgar wouldn’t even question it if that was the case, because who is he to question what true holiness is?
In his gaze there’s more than just a lovers adoration. To him you’re not a mere mortal. He looks at you as if you’re the sun itself, like you could fly up to the very heavens and rip the stars from their foundations. His trust placed in you so wholeheartedly that if you decided to smite him for the simple crime of existing, he would let you, he would even thank you for it.
But you love him far too much to even think those thoughts. You cup the side of his face and feel as he leans into your touch. You don’t know it, but if in this very moment you told him to renounce his faith, renounce his loyalty to the emperor, and worship you and only you. He would, without a doubt, say yes.
… Well. I think I might’ve gotten a little too carried away here lmao
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Oh hey thanks for the fucking feast, excuse me while I go apeshit with my religious undertones/trauma kink
also @thevoidscreams thanks for the inspo as well fam
Warnings: NSFW, Religious undertones, Body worship
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The desert becomes so cold at night, the sand sometimes freezes with little sparkles of dew, reminding you of the snow of your distant home planet.
But despite the frigid air of a Colchis drowned in dark you couldn't feel hotter, skin aglow with the sheen of sweat- lips parted in a pant.
"Lorgar, Lorgar..."
Sometimes his name leaves your mouth as a whisper, sometimes a yell, but it seems as if he can hear neither. It's like he's in a trance, head between your legs for what's felt like and more than likely has been hours.
Your thighs are covered in lovebites, little scratches, redness where he's gripped too tight in his enthusiasm and you've had to pry at his hands and plead for him to stay gentle with you, remind him that you're fragile, as his eyes look at you with reverence.
Sometimes the way he looks at you is almost too much; Too much like worship, the way he lowers himself to press his head between your thighs and whisper so many sweet nothings. So much of it is incomprehensible, speaking in tongues as he presses you into the massive ocean of a bed meant for someone far larger.
You’ve never felt as bared as you have in these moments, like he’s taking every bit of you and some from somewhere beyond.
“By the gods, you look so beautiful… No art, writing or tapestry could ever hold a candle to you like this…”
He could do this for hours, sometimes he has, and while you know he has to in order to prepare you for what’s to come, he takes more than plenty of pleasure in it.
His creation didn’t consider something as frivolous of this; His body wasn’t meant for yours. But you’ve made it work nonetheless, forced it to.
He hears your pitiful whine and hoarse cry as you come against his mouth, desperately grabbing at his hand smothering your stomach and keeping you pressed down in place. He whispers and praises like you’re singing a song just for him, music to his ears.
You could stop here and be satisfied, more than so, but you know that he has so much more he wishes to give you. These moments are rare, but when you manage to steal them he indulges in you until the sun rises and you’re begging for rest. At least a days worth, usually no one sees much of you for a few days after such an evening.
His mouth pulls away from you, his body rises to hover over yours and the difference in your bodies has you swallowed in his shadow, though he only sees you surrounded in light. Your skin glows, lips parted and seemingly beckoning him in.
There’s been nothing more beautiful to him in his life than you, in this moment.
He doesn’t know why he resisted this for so long, though perhaps he should’ve, because now there’s nothing in the galaxy he wants more.
“My love, my little goddess, please, let me…”
You grit your teeth as he presses his way inside of you, a balance teetering just before true pain as you feel the threat of his body weight against your hips and thighs. There isn't much space for your legs to go, they can't truly part wide enough for someone as massive as Lorgar, and so they press into your stomach like he's going to fold you in half.
Throughout it all he speaks as if you’re his gift, as if you’re a beautiful star made manifest.
His whispers his prayers his pleading becomes more desperate until he finishes inside of you, feeling his hot skin against your own.
When his body lays beside yours, he’s looks upon your tired form with reverence. With the same shine in his eyes when he reads his gospel or writes a verse. You wonder if one day it will ever become too much, or if you’ll come crashing down from the pedestal he’s put you on.
“I love you, my dear. More than any other man that has spoken those words. I will pluck any star you desire out of the sky, conquer any planet, or bring anyone to heel just for you.”
You might wish to tell him not to, but the words don’t leave your lips. He kisses you, takes those words from you and leaves you breathless as his hand cups your jaw, and he begins to pray to you once more.
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absolutebl · 4 months
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This Week in BL - The Sign is Slaying
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top. Happy new year, BLabies!
Jan 2024 Wk 2
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Ongoing Series - Thai
The Sign (Sat YT) ep 8 of 12 - Tharn in Phaya’s too big clothing is the cutest thing in the world.
I gotta to say something about Babe's acting really quickly. I love the way he’s inhabiting the personality of his naga character with reptilian eye and body movements and (I don’t know how to put this) a certain reserved, elegant, slithering- ness. He's very good this new boy of ours. (He come from something physical like dance?)
I adored them doing the walk of shame and being teased.
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ALSO I enjoyed the way they handled Tharn’s gender in the past with his costume (the pha chung hang is gender neutral but that green top is a kinda combo m+f) and pronouns et al.
Language corner:
They are using ancient pronouns. I *think* I heard: daow (3rd), khun/jao/tan (2nd), kaa (Ist) - all pronouns in use are gender neutral - to the best of my understanding.
Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 10 of 12 - Ooo. Day comes out to fam. Also his maa legit took his phone away and said
“I don’t mind you being gay but you can’t date a poor.”
Still, these 2 do kind of make the best secret boyfriends ever.
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Also I begin to love Night: “that’s my baby” indeed. You special ain’t ya?
For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 7 of 12 -  I’m starting to find this pretty boring at this juncture. Bummer, because for a while I was enjoying it.
Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 11 of 12 - The stuff with the spy on the team is super boring. I’m not wild about the side characters either. So most of this episode was a bust for me. I did like First’s ex. 
Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 9 of 14 - Charlie & Babe = honeymoon phase. Jeff & Kim = forgotten. Pete & Way = riddles wrapped in alphas but actually enigmas. Everyone else = gang bang phase…. Apparently. Trash watch happening here.
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Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 6 of 12 - Loved that this was a mutual kiss. (Also how comfortable are OffGunn kissing now? Babies!) I’ve moved from indifference to absolute loathing of the side couple tho.
Oddball LIES from the script = the gayest bridge in Bangkok isn’t lit up after 9pm.
Meanwhile, very important kicky kicky feet and Doc is a dork about flirting now that he’s all in. Looks like we get the official boyfriend ep next week.  
You and My Stars YT 2of 2(?) - Couldn’t find it. Not fussed. 
Time the series (Thai Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Okay so there’s a gang and someone named Chris is killed and his boyfriend, actor Foam, is jumped back in time to save him? NO SINGING. Between Chris’s death and that time-slip there’s some kind of accidental murder, a pink pocket watch, Chris being alive again but also a different person, and a make out scene. Are you also confused? Actually, the real question is: Do we continue watching? Remember we (the collective BLorg) do not trust MFlow. 
My Universe (Sun iQIYI) ep 21 of 24 - The acting has been pretty terrible all along with this series, but this one is the worst. I just can’t. I may tune in for the last installment but this one is a DNF for me. 
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Ongoing Series - Not Thai
Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - It’s utterly adorable. Very manga, but so far not grating on my nerves. They so cute! You know I adore a hyung romance. Add a v gay sauna scene and an OUT gay boy and just... YES. All the married breeder regulars being overly invested in their pretty cook’s queer drama queening, it's so good.
AND THEN a confession in the first episode? Japan sure loves to mess with the pacing of plots drops.
Also, how much do I want to eat every single piece  of food in this darn show? 
Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 5 of 8 - Man I wish this were better I enjoyed this more. Sigh. I do LOVE the stepbrother sides. Of course I do. But how can this feature 2 of my favorite relationship types (age gap, stepbrothers) and not be my favorite BL airing? Japan, how do you ALWAYS do this to me? 
VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - I don’t know. I just wish this were better. Also shorter.
I really miss KBL right now.
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It's done I Need to Catch up
What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have a spare day.
The Servant and the Young Master - from Veitnam so I assume it's on YouTube. I never even noticed. Anyone?
After Sundown - aired on Netflix Thailand. No word on inter release.
It's Airing But...
[INTERNATIONAL] Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - yeah Japan put the smack down on our boys. Sadness. You can use a VPN if you like. Read all about it here.
Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… probubly not. I won't be watching this. I disliked Season one and actively hated the follow ups. No thank you.
Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.
Night Dream (Sat YT) 6 eps - It’s a pain to track down and I really didn’t like the first episode so… DNF  
The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.
7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if safe.
Dead Friend Forever (Thai Sat iQIYI) - horror, meh, tell me if it's worth my time?
In Case You Missed it
All my year-end round ups:
TOP 10 BL Trends of 2023
Top 10 BL Secondary Pairs of 2023
2023 BLs Best Trope Execution Awards! TOP 10
BL 2023's Best:
Back Hugs Thailand & Elsewhere
Cute Bits of Domesticity
Boys Feeding Boys
BOOP!
Best Cuddles
Heads in Laps
Touching Head Touches
Thailand Put His Head on Your Shoulder
Put Your Head on My Shoulder (not Thailand)
BEST KISSES (not Thailand)
BEST KISSES FROM THAILAND
All the BLs Announced for 2023 that didn't happen
Next Week Looks Like This
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More Coming Jan 2024
Beside You (Thai YouTube)
1/24 Love For Love's Sake (Korea Gaga)- based on the Manhwa ‘Love Supremacy Zone’ by Hwacha. A young man is dropped into a game based off a novel he loves. His mission is to make another player, YeoWoon happy. But then the game starts unfolding completely different from the novel.
Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
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Why are the oversized flappy flappy sleeves so adorable? (The Sign)
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Pit Babe
Frankly 2024 is starting on a whimper... mostly from Babe.
(Last week)
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wonderfulwonderrful · 6 months
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Season of Love (1/?)
+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal
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Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you told Toto, "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That was the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong. Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader team principal. Genre: Romance, comedy, and some good drama. Author's note: Hi, fam! I'm nervous since this is my very first fanfic. I have been following this tag for a while now, and I got so inspired by all the talent here that I went and wrote my own story. Please be kind to me. English is my second language. I will upload chapters regularly - using this hashtag and on #seasonoflovefic. I have been dealing with anxiety the entire year; writing this has been part of my healing process. I hope you like it. (By the way, this story is fun and light-spirited.)
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Dances With Wolff Arc Chapter 1: Engines on and hearts off!
Bahrain
It is a hot and sunny day in Bahrain. Golden hour is set, and every single person in the paddock seems to be in a rush. It is the usual chaos every pre-season brings.
Toto makes his way through the sea of people, cables, tire carts, and cameras at his regular pace - which means those toned and long legs going full speed - rocking this year's Mercedes kit and a new pair of designer sunglasses, phone in hand when it buzzes.
—Breaking news: After lengthy negotiations during the break, the De Vos Group acquired Williams Racing - as speculated. New female owner Y/N De Vos will be joining the paddock this season. The team's principal will soon be announced. Check our exclusive first look with her.
Toto reads on his iPhone after tapping the Sky Sports push notification, slowing his pace a second. He raises an eyebrow and gazes around, noticing many people in the packed pitlane doing the same, slowing the frenzy on the floor for a close bit. 
He reaches out for his pockets and puts on the Bose earbuds before hitting the play button. Curiosity is overpowering him - and, honestly, excitement, too - as he looks at the preview thumbnail. A stunning, tan-skinned woman with great, shiny hair and a beautiful smile appears in front of the microphone with a smug smirk.
—God, she's gorgeous —Toto lets out to himself. Continuing his way to the Mercedes garage. This year, it is located one spot before Williams and following Ferrari's.
Finally, something exciting, someone new. After years of dominating the game, trying not to sound too egomaniac, every season starts to feel like routine to him. Toto is hitting a personal low, avoiding calling it what it is: depression mixed with boredom, especially this season and at this moment in his life. Same old tracks, same old challenges, same old people, same old ways, same old Toto.
You answer the interviewer's questions with ease. You are very well-spoken in his eyes like you are used to doing press or public speaking, and you have a cheeky sense of humor. Toto gets captivated, to say the least. He puts his phone into his back pocket and continues walking while listening to your interview, muffling the paddock's noise.
You have a soft voice, a professional speech pattern, and excellent enunciation, reinforcing Toto's idea of you being trained at it. He detects some accent but can't figure out where it is from. He listens to the whole thing; it's impossible for him not to sigh at the stupid questions they ask you a couple of times. The more Toto listens, the more questions he has for you in his mind. He may get them answers later when he finally meets you.
So far, you seem like a breeze of fresh air, and Toto is desperate to breathe you.
And yeah, no question Williams looks different. Toto, as usual, ventures to inspect more than he should - and is allowed to - taking a good peek at your brand-new garage. Knowing quite well, he also is hoping to spot you in person.
The garage looks tech and minimalistic, matching your new modern W logo. Whites, blacks, and touches of grey colors predominated. The lighting, screens, and interior design look so futuristic, expensive, and dope; it's a whole vibe. It is a sexy garage! A phrase he never imagined using. What F1 has done to a man?
Toto can feel the desperate modernity Williams once needed and the resources. Of course, he knew firsthand the Williams family was looking to sell after years of struggling to win races and its economics. Toto remained neutral throughout the process, informed but not too involved. He had felt a little indifferent about the entire ordeal till now. 
He hopes not to sound insensitive. Of course, he has a special place in his heart for that team and its people, he first started there, but the businessman side of him knows it is the right call and best for them. Of course, it's sad, but that is the game: evolve or die.
He knows his investment is in good hands because last he had heard, and in Niki's words, it got acquired by a Belgian zillionaire, and Niki reassured him it was a perfect choice. He was respectable and trustworthy, and Toto didn't need to know more. But this sudden change - and announcement - took him a bit by surprise. Little did he know.
-
Gossip and theories fill the paddock. Supporters and haters - already - are all over social media, typing divided opinions as usual. It is the talk of the town, and you, you are the center of it at this point; there is more to come.
Toto greets his team on his way to his chair, already inside Merc's garage after doing his little on-site research. A couple of pats on the back and hugs later, he makes himself comfortable in his spot while catching up with Bono. 
Just as Toto is about to place the headphones on his head, the corner of his eyes caught Samanta, better known as "Sam" - a beautiful, thin, young, pale-skin, platinum blondie - Niki's assistant, hugging you goodbye and walking towards him. 
You wave Niki hello from afar and on your way to the W garage.
For the briefest moment, Toto's eyes and yours met. You are more petite than he expects. And you dress very classy and minimal but with a sexy touch. You match the new identity of Williams, or well, Williams matches your style. The Jacquemus "La robe saudade" dress you wear hugs your curves, accentuating your beautiful toned legs and great ass. He couldn't avoid staring you down as you walked past. Sometimes, he was just a simple man.
Toto suddenly feels the Arabic heat rushing through his body.
—Getting up close with the enemy, tearing down its walls, I like your style, evil as I would expect from you —he says to Sam, now next to him, as she takes off her access badge and picks up her tablet from a drawer.
—Bok, dumb. No bad blood! Just a friendly welcome to this testosterone hell, you know, girls being supportive of one another. I'm pretty sure you will like her, and judging by that look you just gave her, I guess you already.
—Začepi, dumber —Toto answers in his usual authoritarian and collected deep voice, but jokingly. He feels his cheeks turning red. —Spill how, when…
—We were roomies a long time ago. I adore her, she's great, strong, intelligent, kind, fun, and so damn hot. That's all you need to know for now, and that's all I'm telling you.
Sam is the youngest daughter of the Dobrev heirs, a very wealthy and old-money Croatian - almost royal - family who owns multiple fleets and half the country, like filthy rich. They are famous for being all platinum blondes, having many scandals, and investing in motor and water sports. They are one of the main Mercedes-AMG sponsors. 
As far as Toto knows, Sam doesn't have the best relationship with her family and dislikes talking about it, but he knows she cares a lot about her elder brother, to whom Toto hears her speak on the phone now and then.
After years and years of working and traveling the world together, Sam lets her walls down with Toto, becoming great friends and this sort of family away from family, although she remains pretty reserved on some subjects. He loves her like a little sister. She is pretty younger than him and sometimes reminds him of his own sister. Niki always describes them two as his annoying children, always teasing and bickering at each other when possible. The old man cares so much for them personally and at work, and they do, too.
Toto wonders if by "old roomie" she means ex-girlfriend? He has met some of Samanta's "roomies," and… Toto doesn't feel like pushing. He wonders if you may have someone... You know... As team principal, he has to learn about other teams' dynamics, right?
He tosses the thought off and gets in the zone. They have another title to win.
-
You hug Samanta goodbye and take a glance at the Merc garage. Sam is family to you, and you heard so much about them and F1 over the years, ever since she moved out of the Manor after having that massive fight with her parents and started working for Mercedes-AMG, swearing to make a living of her own and never needing them EVER again, a bit over dramatic reaction but that who Sam is and you love her that way. 
She is also your bestie; you two text each other daily. Thanks to her, you knew everything about everyone in the paddock: the good and bad, scandals, and more. Yet they knew nothing about you. For them, you are brand new and the perfect excuse to gossip about.
And there he is, Torger Christian Wolff, the guy Sam couldn't stop gushing you about. Damn, she is right, Toto is gorgeous. You would feel slightly jealous of their closeness if he wasn't Sam's cup of tea. But you can't get distracted; you have a purpose for being there, and nothing will get in the middle. Even if you are dying to meet him, even if you treasure every detail you know about Toto, even if you have been fantasizing about him for the longest time, not to mention being half in love with the man already or the idea of him. Sam made him sound like such a remarkable and caring human being. 
Niki waves hello to you from afar, and you wave back. You adore that old man. He is one of the reasons why the Williams family agreed to sell you the team. Without his support, it wouldn't have been possible.
You met Niki two winters ago; thanks to Sam, you explained to him your motives and why you wanted to buy a team, and he fully agreed to support you and mentor you throughout the whole process. He is a badass and one of the kindest people you have ever met. You immediately felt embraced by the Laudas. Along with Sam, they are among the very few people who know your entire story and genuinely know you, the real you. 
Back to the present day. You feel Toto's dark eyes set on you and can't resist ignoring them even if your life depends on it, so you look back at him. For the briefest moment, your eyes met. The desert is too hot, isn't it? Uff, what's going on with this heat? Damn you global warming! 
So you better hurry yourself away before it is too late and you dare to get closer to him. You reach your new team's garage at the speed of light, so it is fittable for the place you are at. It feels weird saying "your" so much. 
Everything is so different from the world you are used to, but you don't feel nervous. You are a woman on a mission, and after all you have gone through in life, you are not that kind of girl. You bear a challenge.
You greet your team. —He hasn't arrived yet? —you ask the aero performance engineer while he is placing green and yellow dots on the left side of the new car. You reached close to inspect the latest upgrades.
The car is beautiful, matte black with a powerful Lamborghini engine. They are your main sponsor and partner and the only one, which is insanely impressive. No million logos, no visual noise - it is something to see due to F1 budgets. 
Commotion and gasps come from the outside. While you ask the engineer that question, a frenzy starts in the front of the garages. You watch camerapersons and fans pass by, running crazy. Total mayhem.
Oh, there he is.
-
Toto's phone buzzes again - in the middle of that circus - "Breaking news; The legend is BACK. Michael Schumacher joins Williams as Team Principal, son Mick Schumacher, and the sensation of the moment, female driver Millie Dobrev joins him along as drivers."
The FIA, in its many attempts to be perceived as "forward" or "woke," has allowed for the first time mixed-gender racing, starting this season - about damn time! Millie is one of the top female drivers and the youngest, achieving a lot at a young age and becoming a serious threat to everyone on her way. 
—Dobrev… Dobrev?! —Toto looks from the photo on his phone screen to Sam and back; a very young petite girl - with sun-kissed skin, short platinum blonde hair with pink ends and clear blue eyes, a round face with delicate features - poses in a pastel color outfit doing a Korean heart gesture with her hands, fingers full of expensive jewelry. —Care to explain?
—Yes, did I mention she's my dear niece? —Sam answers, deadpan.
—The fuck —Toto says —Are all blond Croatians your family? —Toto teases.
—Hilariously accurate —she laughs it off.
—Your niece?! You are like twelve, how old is she, two!? Can't believe you are an aunt already. I don't know what to do with that fact..."
Samanta rolls her eyes. "Thank my gross old uncle with a young trophy wife?" she thinks.
—So you keep secrets from me, huh? I thought ours was special.
—You give yourself too much importance. And yes, that's why my hair grew bigger during the break. It's full of secrets! —Sam replies. Swinging her long, straight locks.
—What??? —Toto doesn't get her Mean Girls reference.
—Sometimes I forget you are prehistoric, almost fossil.
They both fulminate each other with gazes in a classic and frequent stare-down. Then Sam proceeds to cross tasks on her tablet, slowly stepping away.
—Don't you dare run away from me! You have things to explain, missy.
—Sorry, I'm so busy right now, unlike you.
—I'm busy.
—No, you are not; you are trying to gossip!
—I'm always busy. I'm this team's principal, to remind you, so yes, I'm important, and maybe… maybe… I'm trying to gossip… a little bit —Toto gestures with his hand.
—Could you two stop?! —Niki calls it quits, half annoyed, half laughing, struggling to hear clearly what the tactics team is trying to tell him, turning around on his barstool and waving his hand at them.
Toto and Sam laugh softly, and Toto makes a small O with his mouth while Sam pretends to adjust her invisible tie before returning to business and being professional people doing professional tasks.
Toto looks once more at his phone screen. —Impressive —it's all he lets out. Toto can't wait. He can't wait.
-
It's been a long time since Michael set foot on the paddock, after years of being retired and living almost exclusively to recover - after his infamous accident - and trying to enjoy being a father and a husband when possible. He became this mythical figure that existed in F1 and people's minds but is nowhere to be seen, making him feel like a ghost. Nowadays, he is doing way better but was getting bored of being a recluse at home waiting for the right moment, for that one sign that make it all start over for him. 
And there she is, in front of him, doing a fake courtesy.
—Welcome back, Kaiser —you joke with him.
—Hi, boss! —Michael greets you with a thick German accent and sweet voice. —Sorry about that! —He pushes you aside as a photographer flashes photos. The lens almost hits you in the face while two other cameramen bump into each other. —Better if we go inside. There's lots to talk about and to get ready to start testing. This is bonkers! —he finishes saying, looking at the circus surrounding you two.
—Okay. Let's go then, Schumi —you reply to him.
You feel ready.
-
The testing goes out smoothly for Mercedes. There are just a few sensor improvements and small details to fix, but only a little to worry about. Lewis and George seem happy with their car's performance, and the team feels optimistic.
As for Toto, his day was stressful; he felt exhausted after many meetings and people asking him questions all day, demanding his attention at all times. The hours went at an alarming speed. Somehow, the day is done, but the amount of work has just started. He blinks and is dark already, and the chauffeur is now driving him to his suite in a high-end hotel.
Tomorrow is a crucial day for the team, and his schedule is full of press, too. So he needs a good night of beauty sleep; at the moment, he looks like trash and feels like it. Toto likes to keep it real. He loves the attention of being under the reflectors and calling the shots but still isn't a massive fan of media day.
Speaking of the devil, he takes out his phone and opens his news app. Toto relaxes in the big luxury car seat. He has bookmarked several sites that cover F1, his long, unhealthy habit. He likes to stay current, even if he has "briefing" and a person in charge of doing that.
Even though he doesn't want to feel like a stalker, he pretty much is acting like it. Toto refreshes the app to read the latest news about Williams and you. He learns all he can of you from the newly released press articles; there is little about your background, past, or in general; all he keeps reading appears to be PR-approved since it is constantly reprised on different platforms, which feels weird.
Google doesn't offer him much either, just a couple of articles with photos in which you appear in various charity events related to children's foundations. It is like you don't exist online.
Toto reads your most recent interview and Michael's, and you both appear in good spirits about your car performance. He hates losing but loves a good challenge. A good old-fashioned on-track battle. For a change.
-
The bellboy opens the suite's double doors for him and carries Toto's things inside. It is a massive entrance and makes him feel tiny in comparison. Toto notices a small LV suitcase in front of the large door, next to a big antique wooden carved table, in the middle of the foyer under the soft dim coming from a stunning Tiffany's chandelier, which lits the room and reflects on the exquisite tile walls. The Arabic architecture and interior design of the place are breathtaking.
It means Susie has stopped by. Their relationship is in a weird spot, in one of those hiccups they face occasionally after dating forever and from a very young age. Their relationship at the moment feels monotonous, and love is lacking, which is slowly killing him. He still loves her very much but could sense he is losing her. Especially since they started seeing each other less and less - although he wouldn't blame anyone who has to bear with his crazy schedule - they almost stopped texting and talking to each other, too, and sex is nonexistent. So many red flags.
—Hi, schatzi —Toto greets her.
—Hi, Toto —she gives him a quick kiss. —You look tired.
—I am, but I'm happy you are here —he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his temple on hers. Soon after, he lifts Sussie from the ground into a tight hug. There is a clear height difference.
—I know. I'm happy to see you too, even if it's for a brief moment. I was hoping you got free sooner. Our jet has permission to take off in an hour exactly.
—I'm sorry, today was crazy —Toto apologizes.
—I can imagine. I tried to communicate with you earlier, but it was impossible to reach you; it was almost like you were avoiding me.
God, she knows him so well. Yes, he has been avoiding her - although not today, he honestly had a crazy day - but since they had that awkward and hurtful conversation at their New Year's Eve reception at their house in Oxford. Not because he is angry at her or scared, he misses her a lot. It's just he has been unable to decide and come up with an answer to the situation.
—I wanted to clear things out between us before the start of the season. I'm aware that from now on, you only get busier and more challenging to reach, and my schedule this year is also insane, Sussie says.
—Yes, love. Tell me what you need?
—Your thoughts.
—On what? —Toto pretends to be confused and not get what she is referring to. 
—Come on, Torger. Would you like me to remind you of our last conversation at New Year's?
Silence.
The last time they saw each other in person was months ago. He panicked after that conversation and left for Austria, calling it a business trip and a visit to his sister to spend time with his nephews. She didn't follow him around. Because it was clear he was running away and needed time alone without her.
—So... as I mentioned to you that night... You wanted to try for children this year, and I let you know I didn't see that happening this year or any year. And that I have been feeling increasingly lonely since you spent most of your days away. Honestly, every day, we spend more time away from each other. My career keeps taking off, and I'm not raising children on my own amidst it! I can't even imagine the idea of being pregnant to start with! Plus, you said there's no way you are quitting your job, and I'm neither, so...
—I didn't say that. That's not how it went —Toto feels his head hurting now. He rubs his forehead, exasperated hearing Sussie's Director's Cut version of the events. "It went more like this: I don't get your full attention at all times like before, I'm not able to control you as I once did, and every time you ask me to spend time together, me traveling to you or you traveling to me, if it's not the way I want it I always come up with something to avoid it. Plus, I never mentioned to you before that I didn't want children, not once in the thousand times we discussed family and raising kids together, ah! And I always blame your job as the reason why things aren't working between us." That's how it happened, Toto thinks.
—The point is... —Sussie ignores him. Throwing him a look. —We didn't reach a middle ground but chose not to break things off immediately because none of us felt sure.
There is a pause and a big exhale from her. 
—That's why I suggested exploring having an open relationship. We would establish rules and limits. I know you are more traditional and don't envision this for us, but I wanted you to think about it and give it a chance, not to run away and avoid me after suggesting it. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be with someone else behind your back because I still love you, and I want us to work. I feel we both need someone who is present in our lives to touch us and hold us when we feel like it. 
Toto feels crushed. All he wants is to settle down, start a family, and become a good father - as his father was to him - he never expected Sussie to go in the opposite direction. His intention has never been to make her choose between a career or kids. This isn't the case. It is going to be a two-person job. Besides that, they have all the privileges, resources, and support to successfully achieve being both parents and having careers simultaneously. —This isn't the right moment for this conversation. I had an...
—It's never the right moment for you! Christ's sake, Toto! I..! —Sussie starts losing it and gets emotional. He can't avoid feeling miserable. Suddenly, Toto felt the day's weight on his shoulders and back, which was killing him now; he needed a soft mattress to lay down so desperately. He doesn't want to make the drama bigger.
—Okay, easy, love —he hugs her. —I will think about it and give you an answer this week.
—You promise? Won't you run away from it anymore?
—I promise. I won't.
—This week, Toto! —Sussie wipes her tears, hugs him once more, and kisses him goodbye. —Let me know.
—Yes, this week. I will.
She grabs her suitcase and exits through the doors. Toto drags himself to bed with the remains of his energy, tosses his phone on the wireless charger nightstand, and lets himself drop on the mattress, face down. As he drifts away, a new notification red dot appears in the news app.
Now, an open relationship looks like an acceptable idea.
He falls asleep.
-
The view from your suite is impressive. Bahrain's entire skyline of modern skyscrapers is lit under the night skies, and the desert surrounding it looks beautiful through the floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows. 
It isn't your first time in Western Asia, but your first time traveling so far from home on your own. This hotel is insanely expensive, and the suite is humongous for you by yourself. If you weren't so used to inhabiting a massive, almost empty Manor with you as your own company, you would have felt anxious in such an isolated, huge, and quiet space. 
It is already late at night to text Samanta and meet her to chat. You both have work tomorrow and need to rest. But you have so much to catch up on - since yesterday? - No, but seriously, a lot had happened during your first day at the paddock.
As you are relaxing in the bathtub - you chose a bath bomb made of sea salt soap and local herbs with delicious scents - you let your mind go through all the day's events. You can't stop thinking of that pair of dark eyes going all over your body. You wanted to do the same. You wanted to admire him all. 
You have created many scenarios of what it would be like to meet him. But it went so differently than what you pictured. He doesn't even know who you are or doesn't even care about you. You two could become friends in the future, but for now, your feelings for him are all over the place, and you don't wish to let your heart shatter, not again. Besides, he has Sussie - of course, you have no idea what those two are going through - and you, well, who would want to be with you and your whole "situation"? Your chances with him are zero minus a hundred.
You do your skincare routine before sending yourself to bed - for sure, you will be visiting the hotel's spa in the following days - already dreading tomorrow, a day full of meetings and interviews, you are slightly nervous about what the press is going to ask you, even if Michael does the heavy lifting for you in those matters, everyone seems so curious about you. 
You turn the lights off and pray for a good night of sleep, free of the frequent nightmares you experience.
-
The following day, the driver's parade happens inside walls, while all drivers gather together in a small meeting room - a very office-looking space with sad, white-empty walls, gray carpeting, and way too lit up. Cold lighting is the worst! No F1 glamor on sight - this is part of one of the new progressive and "brilliant" ideas from the FIA. 
Chaos is unleashed as everyone looks for a chair with their name tag.
—Did everyone see her? —Lando asks loudly to the entire room - filled at the moment just by drivers - He is sitting backward in his chair, on the front row, facing the rest. He is wearing his McLaren kit and cap, which is worn backward.
—Yes, we all did. Unless you live under a rock, you have missed that circus, but coming from you, it wouldn't surprise me —Checo answers, joking. 
Lando purposely ignores him and throws him a dirty look and a kiss. —Then, ladies… From 1 to 10, how hard would you bang her? Starting with you, Seb —he asks everyone.
—Seriously, mate? So… sexist… —Vettel answers.
—Come on, bee-guy. What? It's just friendly chit-chat among us drivers, as the FIA would love to remind us, "This meeting's purpose is to establish communications between all teams drivers, their principals, along with the FIA representatives to build relationships and sportsmanship among-"
—Stop reading from the sign, idiot —Carlos says, following Lando's gaze to the sad poster pin crooked on the open door.
—Fine, but let's be honest here: she's the most exciting thing to happen to us in a while, not to mention the most recent. It's not like we are going to admire new guy Yuki's hips. All here have excellent vision, and she looked so FINE like you pervs didn't notice.
—Speak for yourself —Pierre answers jokingly, coming through on his way to his chair, passing in front of Lando in that reduced space, trying not to step on someone. Everyone laughs.
—She is so out of your league anyway; why bother? —Max mentions from the corner, sitting stretched out, his back against the wall, legs on top of the chair beside him. —And I agree with Pierre, Yuki's hips are immaculate, by the way.
—If someone cares, I think my vision is starting to fail me. I will need glasses soon —Nando jokes.
—Don't you worry, abuelo! It's just you getting even more ancient —Pato adds.
—I thought this meeting was for drivers? I mean real ones —Alonso jokes back.
—Oh, mate, low punch! I saw some of her interviews on telly; she is cheeky —George adds, drinking from a Merc bottle and standing near the door.
—Couldn't sound more British if you tried —Bottas adds. 
—He is your Royal Highness, Prince George —Lewis jokes.
—More like your Royal Ass-ness —Leclerc adds amidst laughs.
—I saw her interviews too! It's like Ricciardo got female, but was actually funny and hot —Lando replies.
—Fuck you, mate —Daniel answers, laughing. —You know, she could breastfeed you.
—I wouldn't mind —Lando kids, hitting Dani - sat beside him - on the ribs with his elbow. Today, he is set to act like a naughty boy.
—Lando!! —four drivers say in unison, in shock.
—You're so gross, mate, I swear —Lewis adds simultaneously, palm on his face, half laughing, half wanting to rip his own ears off.
—I'm pretty sure that would be so illegal. I don't want to go to jail, Mr. Officer! —you say, entering through the door. Everyone turns to look at you. You overhear that part of the conversation; it doesn't feel mean-spirit. Then Lando's face matches the red color on Charles' shirt as he slowly turns around on his chair and sits - the proper way - quiet and still. It's a hilarious scene.
—I'm not into minors, but I could change your diaper and read you some bedtime stories to make you fall asleep. "The Little Orange Tin" you would love —you joke to break off the tension.
Michael follows you inside, laughing under his breath. You two take your seats and start chatting casually, two places away. You are seated next to Lewis - to your right - and to an empty chair with no tag to your left by the end of the row. 
You are already a fan of Lewis. And again, you know so much about him because of Sam. Now, he is her favorite person on earth. You feel slightly hurt by that fact, but he sounds lovely, so honestly, it doesn't bother you.
—Hi, I'm Lewis —he offers you a fist bump.
—Hi, Lewis. I'm Y/N 
—How is F1 treating you? All good? —Sebastian asks you, popping out from Lewis's right. Both their attention to you. Heavens, those are some beautiful eyes. You can't figure out if they are green or blue, but you don't want to stare too long.
Sebastian's actual chair is next to Charles, some rows at the front, but he sits next to Lewis because he feels like it. Messing the order. An anarchist at heart.
—All good, thank you —you answer. —It's been chaotic, but I'm enjoying it. And I'm eager for the first race.
—Me too. I always miss driving during breaks —Lewis tells you.
—I agree —Seb adds. —It is the best feeling in the world, so it's hard to let go.
Then Millie enters the room - pink cat-ears headphones on, rocking the new Williams kit: A minimalistic stretchy sports jersey, a white tee with black seams, and the W logo in black print at the center of the chest. It is a fully fitted silhouette with a high neckline and short sleeves, paired with some sleek black sports slacks. 
Michael and you point Millie to the chair next to Michael - with her name tag - she gets there fast and takes off one side of her headphones.
—What up! —Millie greets. —Hi, Sebs!, Hi Lew! —she says extra sweetly and high-pitched tone, waving a hand while facing them. That girl is like a walking cartoon. She looks extra petite and young among those guys.
—Hi, Millie!!! —both of them answer in unison, with the same sweet-pitched tone. It's a cute moment.
Then, the room starts to fill up. And the FIA representative enters, meaning the meeting is about to begin.
A very rushed Mick gets in, also wearing the team's kit. Millie raises a hand and waves it, catching his attention. He moves very fast to his seat. And behind him enters Mattia and Toto, chatting with each other.
Holy shit. The fact that Toto would be there didn't cross your silly mind. And since Seb swapped chairs. The one where he sat belonged to Toto. So the chair next to you is empty and available for the Austrian. You see Mattia sit on the last free spot at the front, and Toto glances around, confused, till he spots the space to your side. You see him walk towards you almost in slow motion. And you set your mind to "if I pretend to not notice him, it means he's not there."
You sense him sitting only inches from you, his arm skin almost touching yours. While you keep your eyes locked straight ahead, point to the FIA guy without daring to move. He stretches while trying to adjust himself to a comfortable position. He is tall and muscular, and these chairs are a joke. His knee moves dangerously close to yours. For a moment, you see the inevitable contact coming. And your heartbeat starts to rise. But it doesn't happen. Damn, he smells so good! How on earth are you to get focus? 
And then the meeting begins.
The whole thing is lame. You and Lewis laugh several times at Seb's under-his-breath comments and jokes about what is happening right at the moment. The German has excellent timing and good puns and one-liners. Those two seem like besties, Lewis being the "serious" of the pair; go figure!
The open mic section starts and the FIA guy offers the microphone around. Lewis instantly and discreetly crosses an arm over Seb's hands, and Vettel raises his eyebrows. —Freedom of speech, much? —Sebastian jokes. 
—What are you going to ask? Seriously? —Lewis tells him.
—I have a genuine question!
—Why I don't believe you.
—Like why? You don't trust me?
—Oh, I do, but...
—But then... let me grab the mic.
Lewis lets out a sigh. Seb raises a hand, now free from Lewis's grip. And the microphone goes to him.
—Check, check —The entire room pays him attention. —Ahm, I have a question for you all.
—Yes, please, go ahead —The poor FIA guy looks overly excited that someone cares enough to say something. Most of them, not to say all of them, look forced to be there, bored, and by that point, so done with this meeting.
—Gentlemen, a short view back to the past. Thirty years ago, Niki... —The more he talks, the louder everyone laughs. Michael loses it. Sebastian recites the whole thing by heart.
What an icon.
The FIA guy couldn't look more confused.
You hear Toto's laugh for the first time; he has been sitting there quietly this entire time. You briefly and occasionally feel his gaze set on you, but you don't dare to turn, look, or talk to him. You know very well that any moment of weakness from you means your doom. Back to Toto's laugh. What is that heaven-sent sound? You want more. How can you get more? Can someone get addicted to a sound?
—Blimey, I knew it! —Lewis lets out, shaking his head and also smiling.
With that question, it is clear the meeting has ended.
As everyone is getting on their feet, you feel Toto purposely caressing his arm against yours as he gets on his feet and then walks to the exit without looking back at you. Your eyes follow him around till you lose sight. Sweet baby Jesus, those toned arms.
-
Race day arrives. 
The Sahkir circuit is a whole party, and the atmosphere is to the roof. All drivers get in position after the entourages move quickly out of the way. The chaos on the track dissipates within seconds. 
Then, after the formation lap, the red lights turn off, and the violent roars from the engines fill your ears. Oh, what a sound, now you are addicted to it.
After a great start from your team and almost two hours later, Lewis and Millie face down in a back-to-back battle. Switching positions 3 times in the final ten laps. It is a monumental effort from the drivers, teams, and their strategies. Emotions are on edge at the pitlane and at the benches.
Millie crosses the line first, less than half a second ahead, and fireworks go up in the air. Fans roar, and you all go nuts! Your crew runs to the pit wall fence, climbing it up and waving as she passes by, lots of fist pumps onto the air. It's your first podium! Your? Like you did something, lol. Your team gets their first podium!! - better - it is a great start. And for the first time in forever, you feel alive and cheerful.
Amidst hugs and pats on the back from crew members and supporters, you make your way to the podium area, following Michael. He is dragging you along; you are in a blur with all that adrenaline rushing through your veins, the noise, the lights, and the crowds.
During the podium ceremony, when the Croatian anthem plays - you are now surrounded by all three teams' entourages, all watching the ceremony together and supporting their driver - you notice Millie getting emotional. It is a first for her, too. And when it finishes, everyone around you starts cheering and clapping like maniacs for her as she raises and kisses the trophy. 
Michael, right next to your side, takes off his white W cap before Millie, and she gestures a praying sign with her hands from high above the podium to thank him and thank you. You blow her a kiss just before rivers of champagne fill the place.
Millie is the sweetest. You felt a genuine connection from the first moment you met her - a couple of months ago at the new Williams headquarters - before she agreed to sign the deal. She trusts you, and you believe in her. So you are on this journey together and feel so happy for her.
You get so distracted by these thoughts and others, too, that you don't notice the place started to empty. When you return to reality, you turn around to leave, following Michael's steps, and almost crash into someone walking in the opposite direction. You are left facing a very nice-looking chest - mere inches away from your face - wearing a white Mercedes shirt. You raise your gaze from those fine pecs that belong to Toto and look at his handsome face.
—Hi... —He says, looking down at you, he is way taller than you.
—H-h...i —You feel weak on the knees.
—I-I..
—I... I'm.
You both say at the same time. You step to the left, and Toto steps to the left synchronously. 
—Sor..ry-y.
—So-rry.
You both keep talking over each other. So Toto moves aside, gesturing with his hand to let you go through first.
—Nice meeting you —you say calmly and quickly rush away.
—Same —he replies, following you with his gaze and watching you walk away. You feel he wants to say more, and you do, too, but it is better this way.
"What the fuck was that. Why on earth were you so nervous, girl? It was like you forgot how to speak!" You think.
"The fumes in the garage are starting to affect me," Toto thinks. "Is she running away from me? Yeah... The fumes are definitely affecting me. Damn, she walks fast."
-
Australia
Thanks to poor scheduling and the worst jet traffic, Michael and you aren't able to land on time. All tracks are being used at the moment, so you get sent to another terminal further away from the circuit. Qualy for the Australian GP is about to start, and obviously, you two are running late.
A Lamborghini Sian car is already waiting for you when you land. So you ask the chauffeur to toss the car keys to Michael. —We have like ten minutes to be there —you tell Schumi.
—Understood, boss.
You instantly regret phrasing it like that. Schumi is driving like a madman while getting directions from the chauffeur in the backseat. Michael pushes the engine to the limit, and the car goes full speed. You feel your body melting with the car seat as you hang for your dear life to the seatbelt. Ten minutes was a say, you didn't truly mean it, let's try another one: To get there alive if possible, this one you meant it.
Michael enters the staff parking lot at the Melbourne circuit by taking an extreme corner still at full force. The two security guys sprint to open the gates; it is that or get run over. 
Once you get in, you see him letting the wheel go a second, and the car starts spinning around - it twirls at an alarming speed. "Am I going to get projected out of this window?" you think. And in just one wild movement, he parallels parks, tires burning. The Fast and Furious stunts were a kid's play next to his. Everyone stares at the scene, astounded.
—9.48.00 minutes, boss —Schumi says. Turning off the engine while checking his Rolex Daytona.
He was insane for this.
—Well, I hope you are as fast on your feet as you were on this car —You joke, grabbing your purse and access badge while getting out of the vehicle, heels hitting the ground like nothing had happened. Because, above everything, you are a bad bitch.
—Are you? —he dares you. Walking past the front of the car, catching your step.
—Haven't you seen my legs?! —You joke. Toned they are.
—You make the 100-meter dash athletes jealous —He jokes back. 
You are going to get so many fines. So many.
-
You two make it to the W garage on time. You "fashion walk" there, according to the people who mock you. Since you don't feel like blending in with the mechanics - and because of your outfits and looks. The Williams garage is located dead last on the pitlane, so you have to walk in front of all other teams' garages to get there every time - expensive bag-swinging in the air, designer heels clacking on the floor, always wearing a chic something; dresses, shorts, skirts - as if they don't enjoy it! Of course, you expected toxic masculinity and sexism on your way, especially since your team is dominating! But not this early on.
—You are late! —Millie jumps at you.
—Let's not talk about it. I'm going to need therapy, thanks to that experience.
—What?! —She looks at you with a funny face.
—Nevermind. All ready?
—Do I look like ready? —She says, gesturing at herself. She is wearing an oversized lilac tee - at least twice her size - and a white tennis mini-skirt with matching white Jordans. 
She follows you to the dressing rooms right across from your remote office, where you quickly leave your purse and stuff inside. As you two get there, Millie tells you how excited she is that Sanrio offered to design her helmet for Suzuka before going to change.
—What do you think? Is it too much? —she asks you. Inviting you into her custom dressing room and pointing around. It looks like Minisio had puked that room out.
—Is very you! —you answer.
—I know, right!!! —she gives you a big dumb smile.
—Are your boobs out? —Mick asks while entering through her dressing room doors - eyes closed, arms extended in front, walking mummy-like - not seeing you there, obviously.
—What?! No! —Millie answers as Loretta (her trainer slash assistant) finishes suiting her up.
—Great! I can open my eyes then! —he says.
—I don't think there's much to see, Mick —Millie jokes while putting on a sad face and looking down at her chest. —Two lemons, barely.
—I don't think Marc from statistics thinks the same. I saw him trying to find them —He jokes. Mick gains a smack on the arm.
Millie's popularity has skyrocketed; she is already a paddock favorite. By this point, she had already rejected three engineers who asked her out - not because of ego, being rude, or wanting to break hearts - but because she is so clueless and a shy dork with zero social skills, in her own words: "I communicate better with cars and engines than with people, at least I know how to work them."
—Kids, kids! —you say, amused at the scene.
—Oh, hi, boss! I didn't notice you there —Mick looks at you, a bit embarrassed.
—No worries —You are glad those two are getting along well.
Mick drops himself on the fluffy pink oval puff in one of the corners. One leg up.
—Why are you here on my land? —Millie asks.
—Oh yeah. I came to say something —Mick adds like he is just remembering. —Yes! My father is waiting for you two to start the team's meeting. Everyone is there already. It's urgent. So hurry.
—Oh god, and you just let us know now.
The three of you get on your feet real fast.
-
After a good team catch-up and an impeccable motivational speech from Michael, all of you get to your positions inspired and ready to give it all.
As the Qualy starts, you turn to Michael. —You are a great leader, you know? We are lucky to have you —you tell him.
—I'm glad to be here, more than you imagine, boss.
-
Millie secures a pole position. Sparks flyed. Damn, that car was fast, and she, she was faster!
-
When the workday is done, you wait for Sam across from Merc's hospitality. It's getting dark.
You are sitting on a bench a few meters away, next to a tree with beautiful yellow flowers, looking at your phone and minding your business, avoiding looking like a threat near competitors' territory.
—Waiting for Sam? —Toto asks you from the other side - at the bottom of the stairs of their main cafeteria entrance - you raise your gaze at the sound of his voice.
—Yes! Hi! Will she be taking long? —You can't avoid smiling at him and sound slightly nervous.
—No, she is on her way, but I must warn you, she's been insufferable the entire day. She had one of those, what she calls it? A bad ha...
—A bad hair day —you both finish in unison. —Yikes! How bad it was? The hair? I mean.
—Oh, terrible! I had to look at it all day —he answers jokingly, putting an ew face. Toto walks towards you and sits on the bench by your side, stretching his legs and resting one on top of the other.
The truth is, Samanta doesn't have naturally straight locks; she has long, curly hair she straightens. And sometimes, some days, some weather gave her that wavy, frizzy, wild, non-combable hair.
—You are such an inspiration, a true survivor. Tell me all about your journey —You make him laugh, you love that. More, please.
The door interrupts you two as you both smile at each other like dumbs and lock eyes. Sam goes out, black Merc hoodie on, covering almost her entire face, overdramatic as usual.
—Rocking the Palpatine? —you tease her.
—Hilarious. Bad hair day. I look like Monica Geller on that trip to the beach beneath this —she says with sarcasm. Toto laughs. —Ah, now that reference you get —Sam rolls her eyes.
—Jezz, that mood, huh? A few drinks will get you through these dark times, my friend. Let's go! —you add.
—Oh no, I'm not going.
—What?! Why?! Why are you like this, Samanta?!
—No, why is humidity a thing? Who needs it?
—Aem, all of Australia's wildlife? —Toto adds.
—Shut up, smarty pants —Sam lets out.
—You look like Hagrid —he replies.
—Torger, don't test me, I swear —she warns him, fingers rubbing her forehead.
—So, when will you be available then? —you ask her, cutting off the bickering.
Sam opens her weather app to check the humidity levels. —Ahm, like next week? Not in Australia?
—Are you serious, dude?! I already booked! —You two were going to that Michelin star blindfolded dining and drinking experience. It was so on trend that booking a table there was Melbourne's most challenging and expensive thing at the moment.
—Sorry, I'm not going out looking like this! But for sure Toto could join you! He desperately needs to get some of that stress out of his system. He's getting meaner.
—What!? Me, the meaner one? —Toto lets out.
—What?! Sam! No, no. He is probably busy, and I don't want to bo... —you add, quickly, getting nervous while trying not to show it.
She interrupts you.
—Busy?! No, he is just in an antisocial mood swing. Toto barely left his office today! All grumpy, he was inside there. Besides, didn't you, my guy, tell me you were going straight to your hotel to lock yourself and binge-watch Love Island while eating ice cream straight from the bucket? —Sam teases him, well aware Toto is feeling low - more like heartbroken - Sam hates Sussie, but of course, she will never admit it publicly, and definitely not to him. This is her weird way of showing him her support by setting him up to go out and have fun with a great person instead of being miserable and all alone. Classic Sam.
—What? No. What's Love Island? I wasn't being antisocial; I had a ton of work today, unlike you —He answers deadpan. 
—Do you even own a TV? —Sam is seriously curious.
—Of course, I do! Several, in fact —It doesn't mean he watches them.
—You must be rich! —you joke. He smiles.
—Yeah, whatever. Come on! Get to know each other! Have a good time on me and my hair's behalf —Sam grabs you both, each by the arm, and walks you towards the exit.
—Is it me, or is she getting worse with age? —You address Toto.
—No question!
—Hey! You can't trash-talk me! —Sam complains.
—Oh, that's all we will be doing; we are going to talk so much trash about you, piles of it, that the garbage collector will plead to us no more —you mock her.
—I'm hating this already! —Sam crosses her arms.
Well, now you have a date with Toto. A date, yeah, in your dreams.
To be continued... - Masterlist | Next Chapter
254 notes · View notes
henchy5824 · 10 days
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My newest project is a scene inspired by the #666 live on air series from the amazing @prince-liest Go check out their stuff!
Jazzhands
SO I've never done lighting before. I live in perpetual darkness. I don't know what light looks like, can't you tell??!
I've had to actively hype myself up to draw Alastor and I kept putting it off. The intimidation factor with the strawberry pimp is pretty high....
Alt version below
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"something violently teal-colored", you say? "fluorescent purple cap", you say? Say no more fam ❤ Of course it would be Nuka-cola-quantum. What else is there?!
They both have a bad day, I feel like. Vox is wearing the most scraggly looking shirt that was not yet chucked in the laundry and he doesn't even care that it's buttoned unevenly. Val is on a date without him, after all.
Alastor has one of those bad hair days. He kept going through his hair all day. Not sure about the ghostly sensation of Vox scritching his ears the day before.
Also: I don't know why Vox would have pcb patterns on his arms on the outside of his body but the idea seemed hella sick, so I had to draw it.
So headcannon time:
-Vox would be the type to have the most designer- and bare-looking kitchen in the history of Hell. Velvette designed it for him and he didn't mind.
-He's got a Potoro Marble countertop and he uses it to eat takeout straight out of the cardboard box and microwave meals straight out of the tin they came in.
-If the appliance isn't fisher price-coloured, it's not VoxTek and therefore has no place in his kitchen.
-The most used appliances are the coffee machine and the microwave.
-He has more barstools but the only one he uses is the one Alastor is currently sitting on. Vox only lingers in the kitchen to scroll on his phone while his meals are heating up or the coffee is brewing.
-He does own a knifeblock and several high-grade kitchen knives but they are still in their packaging in one of the drawers under the counter. He only uses his claws to perforate his microwave meals.
-He does own pots and pans....somewhere.. They are also VoxTek branded.
-Of course he would choose the most retro-50s-looking wallpaper possible. It drove Velvette up the wall but he insisted.
Things I've learned while doing this piece:
-How to use colour swatches
-Being sensible about layers and which layers will interfere with others
-Using light gradient boxes and swatches (omg so helpful)
-Actually using a colour pallette
-The perspective tool!
-Creating a colour filter by applying opacity. (yea, as if I actually knew what I was doing!)
Thanks for reading my brainrot and sharing in my continued effort to draw somewhat adequately looking stick figures and badly lit settings!
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look-at-the-soul · 8 months
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Behind the scenes- Peaky Blinders (Part 1)
Cillian Murphy x reader
BTS master list
Request
A/N: I wrote this to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the series… right on time before this day ends! I had to cut it into two parts because it got a bit longer… there are no words enough to thank each of you (the peaky fam) for what writing and reading has given me. This little project is really really special and I want to thank @notyour-valentine for tagging me in this request a while ago, thank you for your generosity Val, there’s a little gift between the lines for you. And for the help you provided for another part related to horses♥️
But also @heidimoreton for creating this gorgeous moodboard to go with this story! And my dear @holacia3 for the help you gave me too about horses and @forbidden-forest-witch this is for your belated birthday and the little surprise♥️
Word count: 4,745
✨ Summary: Join us at the stables as Cillian gets riding lessons for his iconic role as Tommy Shelby in the series Peaky Blinders. He came to learn all about horses, but he ended up falling in love not only with them.
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During his career, he had played several roles, learned how to walk on heels for Breakfast on Pluto, about space for Sunshine, even played a part in a film that was close to home in “The wind that shakes the Barley” about the historic war between Northern Ireland and Great Britain.
Acting was such a treat to calm -in a way- his hyperactive mind.
He preferred to not answer what he wasn’t willing to do for a role, because he’d probably do anything.
That included riding horses. Which, in reality he wasn’t a bit familiar with.
He had never even been close to one in his life. His driving skills were so poor, how would he fucking manage an animal that big?
Yet, here he was waiting in the living room of the horses sanctuary located in a remote place of England he had never heard before.
The sighting was breathtaking, the air so pure, no city noise, it was quiet, calm, everything he was looking for before the storm started, he had never been on a series before and the mental challenges of this character was the biggest of his entire career, he had never met a man as complex and with so many layers as this Tommy Shelby he had spent weeks reading, the internal turmoil this man has been through after the war wasn’t his only problem, his background included a household with lots of family problems, taking care of his younger siblings while stepping up to build an ilegal business and endless enemies that he would encounter along the way.
Cillian was greeted by the teenager behind the desk and asked him to wait because the trainer hadn’t show up that morning and she rushed to call someone else on a radio.
“Someone will be here shortly, can I offer you something to drink in the mean time sir?”
Cillian chuckled at the sir part.
“Water would be great.”
Turning around, he was able to see through the window, finding a woman galloping at speed and coming down from the horse without really stopping with just a jump.
Seconds later, the same woman entered the reception out of breath and walked straight to the girl.
“Your horse trainer called in sick again.” Cillian heard the teenager say.
“Thanks Willow, can you help me reschedule the appointment with the bank?”
“Sure, Y/N. Will you also reschedule his sessions?” The teenager pointed at him.
Until now, Cillian had only being able to watch her from behind; petite but lean frame, she had black tight pants, riding boots and a cream jumper on, her hair up in a high pony tail cascading on her upper back.
But when she turned around, Cillian was lost for words as the most angelic face met him.
And he wasn’t one bit religious.
“Mr. Murphy nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.” She offered her hand firmly along with a smile. “Our trainer isn’t available today, please accept my apologies could we reschedule?”
He stammered, not knowing what to say.
“Y/N, you could show him how to ride too.” The teenager proposed.
“I thought you’d be on your way to school young lady.” Y/N raised her eyebrows at the girl. God she was just like her aunt.
“Whatever, I was just saying.” Getting her bag, she stormed from behind the counter. “Should I tell aunt Val dinner is cancelled?”
Oh no.
She knew that look, it was the same her aunt would give her.
“Honey don’t tell your aunt anything.”
“Bye auntie! Bye Mr. Murphy!”
“Sorry, so? I think one of our trainers comes back from a horse fair on Saturday if that day works for you.”
Leaning on the counter, Cillian decided to take a risk. There was something about her.
“I’m in a bit of a hurry, would it give you a lot of trouble if you show me?”
“Not at all! I just thought you wanted a professional trainer that’s all.”
He smiled and for an instant, Y/N’s heart skipped a beat.
“Right, well… follow me this way.” She lead the way outside of the property. “Is this some kind of bucket list thing?” Mondays were usually quiet days at the sanctuary, nothing like the weekends when they were usually packed.
Cillian walked next to her, hands inside his pockets. Unsure about how much to reveal.
“I need to learn how to ride.” He chuckled a little, the script was phenomenal and he was extremely excited about it, but until now he wasn’t able to talk about the project.
Y/N guided him towards the stables, he had seen a few in movies or the telly, but being there in person, it was another story, it was huge and his heart got too excited as his eyes found the horses.
“Do you’ve a particular preference for a horse?” Y/N asked curious about the hermetic man before her.
“Racehorses.”
Y/N turned around slowly to look at him. There was a subtle accent different from his voice, but she brushed it away.
Cillian tried to clear his throat, aware of the voice tone he just used, he was still practicing the accent and mannerisms he had been building over this new character.
“Okay… I can’t let you ride a racehorse if you’ve never been on a horse.”
“Why not?”
“Look, horses are just like people, they’ve their own temper, feelings, the know when we’re scared or aggressive, we don’t mess around them… I’d suggest you start with a gentle horse first.”
“You seem to know a lot about them.” Cillian observed the way she was caressing one as they walked.
“I grew up in this place, my grandparents started this sanctuary, my mother was the only child and she kept the family business, then it was my time to take over.”
“How long have you been running this place?”
“Since I was eighteen.” Y/N admitted. “This is Sally, she’s a good girl.”
Cillian observed Y/N’s moves, the way she approached the horses. And she showed him the right way to caress the animal.
“Can I touch her?”
Bringing the hose to her by the muzzle, she giggled. “She says you can.”
“What else does she says?” It felt soft and he noticed the way Sally was moving her ears.
“That she doesn’t believe you, horses are one of the most intelligent creatures.”
Cillian chuckled, accepting the snack Y/N brought over. He was fascinated by the level of trust she showed with each animal, the way each of them reacted, it was so true, as he was noticing little differences in each horse as their own personalities, it was amazing and as Y/N shared more details about the place with him, he found it was impossible to keep lying to her, she had such an energy that was so inviting, giving him a lot of comfort.
Y/N introduced him to all of the horses, caressing each of them, mentioning little details about their personalities or a couple of qualities. She seemed to know them all well and Cillian was marveled by the way each horse behaved with her. Y/N spent a good amount of time explaining him some of the basics.
“I think I learned how to ride a horse before I started walking, all my childhood I was eager to get out of school to come home and run straight to the stables. They’ve been with me through my worst moments, they own such a healing power humans do not understand about, they’re pure creatures… sorry, I’m boring you.” She mumbled feeling her cheeks burn.
“Not at all, I find it fascinating… the way you talk to them and about them, it’s magical.”
“Y/N! The foal is coming early!”
Y/N’s face went blank they still had a few week left. Turning to Cillian she apologized, but she needed to be there, so she asked Jonah the guy how took care of the saddles to show Cillian around while she was gone, but it could be hours.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, I’m staying at the small bed and breakfast that’s close.”
And he saw her run out of the stables, Jonah explained to him they built a small facility to those special occasions. The boy around his early twenties showed him the racks full of saddles and other equipment they used, he was surprised by all of the things they had around to use with the horses.
It was until around nine o clock when Y/N came down from the stairs, after taking a long bath, she had been so tired helping in the delivery that she just wanted a cup of tea and head off to sleep.
“Jesus, what are you doing here?” She gasped closing the robe tight against her body, she wasn’t expecting to find Cillian sitting by the window.
“Well I asked if I could use the books you’ve here and they said it was alright.” He smiled gently pointing at the pile of books he placed on the table next to him, an empty cup in the corner.
“You’ve been here reading since I left the stables?”
He chuckled a little, not aware of the track of time, he had been reading. “Yes, they’re fascinating.” He debated himself whether revealing her the truth or not.
Y/N threw him a puzzled look.
“You live here? Upstairs I mean.”
She nodded. “Yes, the house was so big so I turned the first floor into the main offices, the kitchen is in the back if you need anything.”
“Thanks, I’ve been looking around at the portraits, hope you don’t mind.”
Just as Y/N was about to answer him, a loud thunder echoed through the property. it was so loud it felt like the house would come crashing down. The sound of droplets of rain against the windows followed right after.
“I’d love to stay and talk about the books with you but I really need to go.” Y/N explained just as she rushed upstairs to get changed when she came back down a few minutes later, he noticed her hair was pulled back in a loose braid, cascading down her back.
“Wait.” Cillian stopped her placing his hand on her arm, “can I come with you?”
She was unsure because of his lack of knowledge, but Cillian seemed to read her mind. “I promise to stay back.”
“Okay.” She nodded and offered a rain jacket from the small closet next to the door.
“Is everything alright?” Cillian asked her with curiosity after getting in her vehicle to protect themselves from the heavy rain.
“It’s one of my horses… he gets pretty scary of this terrible weather.” She explained absently, holding the steering wheel with such force that made her knuckles turn white.
“Tell me about him.”
“Thunder is… special, he was born on a night like this and I know doing this sounds ridiculous, but how can I stand there and do nothing?”
She looked at him for an instant, all of her feelings right there in the surface for him to see and read. Cillian nodded, fighting against the lump on his throat that formed after detecting the passion in her voice.
In silence, Cillian followed Y/N inside the barn rushing immediately towards Thunder.
“There it is my good boy.” She started caressing the horse by the muzzle, gently. The horse was extremely agitated. “Everything’s fine… just a loud noise, you know that.”
Cillian found himself staring at her, unable to look anywhere else, he was under some kind of spell.
“Shh, shh.” She held the horse by the curb rein, -he now knew some of the horsemanship-. “Listen to me, Thunder.”
Marveled by her tactics and control over the horse, he couldn’t help it but start whispering a Romany poem he recently learned as part of the script for the series he was working in. Locking eyes with the beautiful animal, he felt like time stood still, it was as if the horse was going through every layer of his mind and soul and the rest of his surroundings faded away. Eventually, the horse started to give in, coming to a calm state.
“What did you do?” Y/N asked squinting her eyes. “It takes me ages to calm him down.”
Cillian shook his head, realizing the deep connection with the horse was gone but it was impossible to explain that it wasn’t him… it was his character’s nature. It was in his blood.
“It’s a poem.” He admitted quietly noticing the storm was coming down.
“In a foreign langua-?
“Thunder!” A boy stormed through the barn directly in the horse’s corral.
“Arlo what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“I thought Thunder might get scared.” He argued, poking his head in to make sure the horse was safe.
“You’re not allowed to come here by yourself in the middle of the night.” She argued.
“But Muuuum!”
Cillian’s heart skipped a beat.
“No buts, Thunder is perfectly fine.” She transformed into a completely different person. “We’re going back to the house right now.”
“Who are you?” Arlo gave him a look, a serious one.
“I’m showing him to ride a horse, focus… on the truck now.” She then turned to look at Cillian. “The only road that could take you to the b&b is probably stuck, it would be better if you stay at the house tonight.”
He wanted to argue, but judging by the intensity of the storm, she was right.
“Sure, thanks.”
She touched the horse’s nose a few times before closing the gate. Cillian followed them in silence, still moved about what just happened with that horse.
“How long are you staying?” Arlo asked Cillian from the back seat.
“A week.”
“What’s your favorite horse?” The kid asked.
“Arlo, it’s late and Mr. Murphy is probably tired.”
He shook his head. “Just Cillian please and it’s fine.”
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she saw Cillian giving her a wink and tilting his head.
Parking the truck, Arlo flew inside the house, leaving a wet patch on the floor of his footsteps.
“Boots and bed.” Y/N instructed with a firm voice. “You can stop by tomorrow morning to meet the new Filly.” Cillian saw her kissing the top of the kid’s head and the hint of a smile spread on her lips. “Sorry about that.”
“He looks like you. Must be awesome to have them help you around.”
Y/N made a face. “Them?”
“Arlo and his father?” Cillian asked in confusion.
And now she was moving her head from left to right. “There’s no father around, he left us after learning I was pregnant.” Y/N looked towards the stairs where her son disappeared a few minutes ago, shuddering. “Can I offer you some tea? It’s cold.”
“‘M sorry… shouldn’t have assumed.”
Brushing off the topic, she started the kettle and Cillian went back to feel extremely comfortable around her. And considering the personal revelation she just shared with him, he needed to be honest in return.
“I’m working in a project that involves horses, but like such a real passion for horses.” He ended up confessing after meeting all of them.
“That sounds interesting.” She admitted but decided to not ask further.
“Yeah,” Cillian ran his hand over the back of his neck. “I need you to show me everything about them… please. I’m portraying a character that involves a man that used to be in love with them, horses are a huge part of this man’s soul, it’s for a BBC series.”
Y/N turned with two cups in her hands, her mind trying to register his words.
“I-I’m an actor.” Cillian revealed after an instant. “But I need you to keep this between us because I signed a confidentiality contract and I could get kicked out of it.”
“Goodness I’m sorry, thought I had seen you before but I couldn’t remember where,” an adorable blush turned her cheeks pink, “I hope you understand I don’t go to the movies a lot, my whole life is this sanctuary and my son…”
“Please don’t even say it.” He chuckled. “I actually prefer it that way.”
“I think the last movie I saw you in…” Y/N stared into the ceiling thinking about it, “was it Inception? Probably.”
Cillian smiled and he lighted the entire kitchen with it.
“Yeah.”
Pouring both cups, Cillian stood up to take them from her hands.
“So uhhm… this project? Why exactly do you need a racehorse?” She asked cautiously.
“My character is a bookmaker, he arranges races… it’s placed in 1919 so he moved around horses after World War I. It’s quite interesting.” Cillian raised his eyebrows in appreciation for the tea after taking a sip. “Fascinating actually.”
“Definitely sounds intriguing.” Y/N admitted leaning her elbow on the table.
“As soon as I started reading the script I was attracted into his world.” He smiled, revering when he got the call for the audition. “Sorry I don’t want to keep you up.”
“It’s fine, I’ll stay for a little longer checking some paperwork.” Her thumb rubbed a chip in her mug. “So would it be okay if I show you everything? From brushing the horse, how to hook the saddle? The way you should approach one?”
Leaning back, Cillian looked at her with his head tilted to the side. “I actually need to learn how to ride bareback.”
****
The following morning, Y/N was preparing the lunchbox for Arlo when a deep voice startled her.
“Good morning.” Cillian saw the little jump she did.
“Hello, did you sleep well?”
Nodding, he smiled in her direction. “Thank you for the accommodation, much better than the B&B.”
“So! I just came here to check the new-” Val announced from the front door just as Arlo stormed into the kitchen but she cut herself when she spotted a man in the corner, “horse, but I see you’re busy.” She replied looking at you. “Just wanted to say it’s highly approved by the comitee. Hello, I’m Val.” She greeted Cillian.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Val…” Y/N added as a warning, knowing how Val was.
“What? It fills all the requirements… great breed, elegance, experience.” She made an OK with her hand.
“Val.” Y/N repeated. “Arlo go or you will be late for school.” She kissed the kid goodbye and felt Val’s eyes on her.
Of course her best friend wasn’t talking about a goddamn horse!
“How about I see you later today? I’m about to get a bit busy.” Y/N asked, she needed to get her friend out of her house before she could keep talking about Cillian as if he was a horse. “We’ve a riding lesson about to start.”
“Have a great time at the barn!” Val gave her a look before leaving them.
After a quick breakfast, Y/N gave him a pair of high boots and introduced Cillian to the different tools they used with the horses.
“To check the heel, you have to take your horse from here.” Y/N showed him how to carefully bend the horse’s leg. “It’s important to let them know that you know what you’re doing. They’re very sensitive.”
Cillian watched intensely every single move she made, how her tone was soft while she had a firm grip on the horse. He couldn’t get to move his eyes from her as she used one of the many tools to brush the mare’s neck.
“They also love to get petted.” Y/N added as she noticed Cillian got quiet. “Would you like to give it a try?”
Finally snapping from his trance, he took the brush and tentatively started to brush the mare.
“She likes that.” Y/N encouraged him noticing the little noises Goldie was making.
“She’s beautiful.” Cillian complimented.
“One of the most gentle ones I’ve seen so far.” Y/N caressed the mare from the other side, giving Cillian space to get comfortable around Goldie. “Her owner, Cia is a great friend and client.”
“And I assume the name is because of the color?” Cillian asked with interest, toiling the soft texture of Goldie.
Y/N nodded profusely.
“She’s recovering from an injury so well, now just needs some rest and she’ll be able to go back on the road in no time.” Cillian noticed the way she whispered to Goldie, looking straight into her eyes.
And she showed him how to get Goldie saddled, adding important tips and tricks to do it right, how to do it properly. It took him a few tries to do it right, but Y/N was so patient, she even admitted that was a virtue she had to thank the horses for.
“Y/N I’m sorry for not coming yesterday.” A woman approached them. “They said I could find you here.”
“Brie don’t worry, is everything alright?” Y/N asked while she eyed Cillian from the corner of her eyes.
That’s when Bries’s eyes sparkled. “Yes! Oh! Y/N… I’ve something to tell you.”
Cillian didn’t even look at them, he was totally engrossed on Goldie, all of his senses on brushing the mare, carefully to not stand behind her just like Y/N instructed. She had been answering all of his endless questions.
“Brie what’s happening?” Y/N looked at her horse trainer with curiosity.
“I just found out I’m pregnant!” She explained with excitement, unable to contain it or hide it any longer.
Y/N pulled her for a tight hug. “Brie, congratulations! This is the best news.”
There were tears in her eyes. “That’s why I couldn’t make it yesterday, I got morning sick and stayed in bed all day. But everything is perfect!”
Y/N couldn’t be happier, by the corner of his eyes, Cillian noticed the genuine smile on her face.
“Okay, so how about you go into the office and help me with the paperwork? I will be in charge for the training from now.” Y/N wrapped her arm around Brie and gave her a tender squeeze. “Made some sandwiches, help yourself.”
“That’s delicious! I brought some chips because, well cravings!” She chuckled giving Cillian a quick glance, it had been ages ago when Y/N went to the barn to give riding lessons.
Turning again towards Cillian, Y/N noticed how good he was, and he learned fast. “You’re a natural.”
Cillian smiled pleased with his improvement, he couldn’t wait to get on the horse.
“Got the best trainer to teach me.”
As time was flying, she noticed it was almost time for Arlo to come back home. “Look, how about we take a break? I need to make lunch for my son but you can join us if you want.”
“I don’t want to disturb your dynamic, Y/N.”
Y/N shook her head. “Non of that.” After caressing the horse’s ears, she added; “come have lunch with us.”
Leaving the boots right next to Y/N’s, Cillian changed into his shoes as they walked into the kitchen, finding Brie with her back at them.
“I hope you don’t mind, I made some pasta.” She smiled at them. “Enough for all of us.”
“Brie you’re going to spoil me just like that baby with some delicious food all the time? I mightjustb open the guest bedrooms and rent them.” Y/N joked leaning over the pot, the smell made her stomach growl.
“Well given the financial circumstances that isn’t a bad idea.” Brie admitted.
“Congratulations.” Added Cillian from the corner of the kitchen.
“Thank you!”
“Mum! I’ve already chose a name for the filly!” Arlo’s voice resonated from the entrance.
“Hello, good evening to you too, can you show some modals please?”
“Hello!” Arlo went to wash his hands and started helping his Mum set the table, Cillian offered to assist the kid. “Do you like riding?”
Looking at him, Cillian nodded. “I’m hoping I won’t be an embarrassment.”
“It’s easy!”
Cillian chuckled at him. “You say that because you were born riding.”
“Are you friends with my Mum? Does it means you’re my friend too?”Arlo gave him a hopeful look. Cillian answered him with a nod. “She needs some.”
Catching the last part of the conversation only Y/N approached them with the food, Brie following her steps.
“I need you to not bother our guests.” She answered and disheveled his hair playfully.
“Y/N I was thinking on what you said.” Cillian looked at her cautiously. “If you want of course… I could pay you and stay here instead of the B&B.”
“Are you sure?” Y/N asked considering his offer.
He nodded. “I rather stay here and use the driving time from there to here and back in learning more.” Deep down he loved the familiar energy.
“Mum, say yes! I can show Cillian my cars collection!” Arlo suggested excited.
“Well, yes. How can I say no?” She accepted earning a round of happy chants from everyone.
By the end of the day Cillian learned how to get the horse saddled, it was so important to hold it firmly in place. But also he learned to listen to the horse, he needed to make sure the horse was comfortable. Y/N suggested they could go for a walk and take the horses, it was extremely important for Cillian to learn to control the horse while being on the ground first to then be able to ride one.
The following day, they spent a good amount of time working on showing Cillian how to get on the horse, it took several attempts. It was harder than Y/N made it look. But Cillian was determined to give all of him. And more than once, he found himself staring at her until she motioned him to get closer to have a better look and he’d snap out from his trance.
In just a few days he realized Y/N had a very kind heart judging by the way she treated the horses, she showed them respect and loved them with every fiber in her body. The work she did was admirable, being right there away from everything and everyone allowed him to really understand a fundamental part of his character.
By the third day in the facility, Cia paid Goldie a visit, she wanted to take her mare back home but Y/N suggested waiting a few more days until she was fully recovered. While Y/N walked Cia to her vehicle, Cillian decided to stop by Thunder’s corral.
“Hello! Is Y/N around?” Val approached him. “Arlo said she was here.”
“She went to walk Cia out after checking her mare.”
Val doubted whether to ask him directly or not, but she knew her friend better than anyone. “I hope you don’t find me or what I’m about to say rude… but I’ve seen the way you look at her, Brie says Y/N is smiling again, something she hasn’t done much apart from Arlo of course. Do you like her?”
Cillian took a step back, surprised by Val’s sharp eye. But he ended up nodding.
“Don’t look at me like I grew another head, I care about her but I also know she has been disappointed and hurt before,” Cillian looked down, not knowing what to do or say, “she likes you, secretly.”
Val’s words made him snap his head up to look at her.
“She does, I can see it in her eyes… so all I ask is give her time, slowly just like you would start riding a horse, you don’t go galloping after getting on them. She’s like a wild horse after getting kicked so many times, she acts on defensive mode but underneath she’s a softy.”
And just as she arrived, she left, leaving Cillian alone to face an avalanche to a door he closed because when he signed the contract for the Peaky Blinders series, he decided to end the relationship he was in and making the firm decision that he’d focus on this project only.
But sometimes, life has a different plan than yours.
“I came here willing to learn how to ride, but I think I’m getting so much more than that.” Cillian confessed to the thorough, extending his hand to caress the horse’s muzzle.
***
Part 2
A/N: Nothing, just THANK YOU! ✨♥️🚬🥃
Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee @ironpen @kittycatcait219 @shelundeadxxxx @speckledemerald @creativepawsworld
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callmeoncette · 10 months
Note
Do u take requests?
if u do can you make hobie brown x black reader where she beats the fuck out of this girl for flirting with her man. Like he clearly not interested, but she keeps insisting and then talks shit abt reader and reader goes ballistic on her ass.
thanks boo😘
Invited To The Cookout
Hobie x fem!black!reader
I remember someone mentioned they’d like to see him in a black southern cookout setting so I just mashed the two together if that’s okay with you!
Warnings: fighting, use of the n word, and a bit of suggestiveness at the end and I think that bout it
Hobie plucked away on his guitar, occasionally dodging a shirt or skirt, as he waited for you to get ready to go to one of your family’s many cookouts during the summer. He dressed casually. Black chucks, ripped up jeans with a few chains dangling, and a breezy band shirt because he learned very quickly that the southern heat in your dimension was nothing to mess with.
He smiled softly as he listened to you talk on FaceTime with your favorite cousin, who he mainly knew went by the nickname Bookie, trying to catch up on drama and coordinate your outfits. Your accent sounding thicker than normal as you two conversed.
“No cuz why my brother lie to that girl and tell her he was watching my baby? That negro ain’ watch shit but the back of his muthafuckin’ eyelids!” Your cousin said through the phone doing her hair
“He so weird for that like if you ain’ wanna go wit’ the girl just tell her…” you then smirked a bit and got closer to the camera, “I used to do that shit too tho’ I ain’t gonna’ lie.” You cackled like you’d list your mind. You then held up a large shirt and a pair of custom air force’s, “you think I should jus’ do these wit’ summ biker shorts? They go wit’ the colors Bee got on…” Bookie perked up, “oh my friend comin’?! HEY HOBIE!!” She yelled excited into the phone. He walked over to where you were and waved, the both of you laughing at her antics. She dropped her phone and the screen was black for a bit before she lifted it again to show her face along with a sweet baby girl’s, “Lala look! Its Hobie!” The baby babbling excitedly. You ‘awed’ softly at the sight before it was interrupted by your cousin pulling a confused face as she mumbled along reading something. Her face then fell as she groaned. Hobie quirked a brow while you asked her what was wrong, “Maggie bringin’ Tisha. You gon’ see yo bestie girl!” She laughed. Your face fell, “Stop playin’ wit’ me Bookie. You know I don’t like that girl.”
Hobie looked at your irritated face in confusion. You’d never mentioned the girl before but there’s clearly some history between the two of you. “Well alright…I’ll see you when you get at Granny’s girl. Khalil just got home from work so imma fix him a lil summ before we go.” Bookie said as her boyfriend walked behind her placing a kiss on the top of her head. You said your goodbye and hung up, laying your phone down a bit aggressively.
He stood behind you as silence took over. A pout on your face as you started doing your hair. His fingers drummed on his pants, “right, so who’s Tisha?” His voice is normally cool with a tinge of curiosity only you could pick up. You sighed a bit while rolling your eyes at the mention of her, “this bobble head bitch I can’t stand! Me and her been beefing since middle school.” you roughly brushed out your hair before he took the tool from your hands. He nodded, “the anarchist in me is screamin’ to tell you to fuck up the slag but I know you been wantin’ me to come to your ends and meet your fam’. ‘Ow bout we just avoid her and ‘ave a good time, yeah?” A soft kissed placed on your forehead, then your cheek, then your nose. You giggled lightly and pushed his face away, “okay! Okay fine! Now lemme hurry up an’ finish cuz we gotta pick up the drinks.” You say with a small smile.
———
You guys pulled up to your family home. The house wasn’t large and grand but the energy of it and the land made up for it. The yard and backyard was full of your relatives who waved and stared as you got out with Hobie. He looked around at everyone and let out a low whistle at the sight. He felt a familiar tingle and turn to see your cousin’s boyfriend holding their one year old, “it’s a lot right? I still be stuck everytime we come to one of these.” Khalil said with baby Jayla on his hip. Hobie hummed while he dapped the man up, “my guy!” He then squinted as he looked around, “she always said ‘er fam’ was bare big. Just didn’t think it was this big.” Khalil nodded, his locs swinging, “yeah they all hella cool tho’ ‘cept for like a few. [name] prolly explain that to you tho’ so…” the man shrugged lightly making his daughter laugh.
You walked up to the boys with Bookie laughing. She quickly held Khalil’s hand and turned to you, “c’mon girl. You know we gotta speak to Granny and Gran before anybody else.” She said to which you nodded knowing that in your family you spoke to the matriarchs first. It wasn’t really a rule, more so something you just did. You two led the way to the porch of the house where your great grandmother sat in a rocking chair with a thin blanket over her lap. She slowly turned to peer at your group and you spoke up first, “hey Gran.” She squinted with a frail smile, “hey, w-who you baby?” She asked, confused. “It’s [name], [mother’s name] daughter? I’m one of your great grandkids.” A bright smile come on her face as well as a look of realization. She nodded, “yes! I remember honey. How you been?” She asked but before you could answer her attention turned to Hobie who awkwardly stood beside you, “oh. He one my grands too?” You all laughed a bit. You shook you head and gently corrected her, “no Gran. He’s my boyfriend.” She nodded “I thought so. Too tall to be one of mine.” You giggled again and hugged her, “imma go see Granny now okay? It was good talkin’ to you.” You then led Hobie into the house while your cousin had her time with the woman.
“She’s a peach. ‘Ow old she anyways?” Hobie had thrown an arm over your shoulders and leaned down closer to you. You rolled your eyes, “you not supposed to ask a lady her age.” He pulled you closer, “yeah, but I didn’t ask the lady I asked someone else. Bit of a loophole, innit?” You sucked you teeth and pushed him with a laugh. “She’s 97.” He let out a low whistle, “97 years. That’s mad long!” He said in a bit of disbelief. You held the hand of the arm thrown over your shoulders and hummed in agreement walking to the kitchen where you knew your favorite woman was.
There she stood cutting up cheese for the macaroni while she hummed along with a song by Big Jay McNeely. Seeing her made you feel like a little girl again. How you always nagged her while she cooked and she’d answer your questions without missing a beat.
“Hey Granny.”
She looked up and broke out into a smile. She came over and hugged you tightly, “oh my sweet girl!” She pulled back and looked you up and down, “lemme get a good look atcha!” She hummed happily. Her eyes drifted to Hobie, “and who is this handsome young man?” A welcoming smile on her face. “This is Hobie Granny. My boyfriend.” He stuck out his hand, “it’s nice to meet yo-oh!” Your grandmother had yanked him into a tight hug. She pulled back up looked up at him, “oh so tall! My grandbabies pickin’ right might finally get some height in this family.” She squinted as she peered at his piercings, “all these piercings don’t that hurt sweetie?” You sigh and save Hobie pulling him back to your side, “Granny.” She waved you off, “I know. He’s still very nice on the eyes.” She smirked. She then looked back to Hobie, “now. Thought I heard an accent in there. Where you from?” “London ma’am.” He replied respectfully. She nodded, “okay, okay. Well I hope you hungry cuz I’m almost done in here.” “Smells bangin’. Can’t wait to eat it.”
Before anyone could say anything else Bookie came in, “Granny I brought your only great grand can I get the first plate?”
“Girl!”
———
Hobie sat down beside you at the picnic table eating. In front of the two of you was your cousin and her crew. As he ate he kept feeling someone’s eyes on him and every time he looked up it was the same girl. She was white from what he could tell, had black hair to her shoulders with her edges done, a septum, and over lined lips with lipliner and gloss combo you usually used. She would smirk whenever their eyes met but it never went further than that.
Once everyone finished eating you turned to him wiping the corner of his mouth, “want some dessert baby?” He smiled softly, “that’d be lovely, doll.”. Bookie stood with you also going to get some while Khalil went off to change Jayla leaving the punk alone. That is until the mystery girl sat herself beside him a little too close for comfort.
“Hey.” Her tone making him scoot over a bit.
“Uh hi.” He said before pulling out his phone hoping she wouldn’t continue talking but of course luck wasn’t on his side. “I saw you wit’ [name]…” she her name with a smidge of venom that he caught, “y’all like friends or summ?” He continued scrolling on his phone but answered her, “bit more than that, mate.” She sucked her teeth in annoyance, “what wrong wit’ you? She don’t let you have friends?”
“Not with bitches holding onto that one black grandma like their life depends on it.” Oh thank goodness for Bookie.
You stood beside her with a stank face and two bowls of banana pudding. You placed one in front of him and placed yours at your seat but chose to stand and stare at the girl.
“You know you don’t talk like that in real life Tisha.”
Oh fuck.
The girl stayed at her seat beside Hobie and rolled her eyes, “whatever girl. He ain’t yo nigga. Yours busy with that baby so worry ‘bout that!”
Everyone started taking notice of the discussion. Tisha’s friends, including a distant cousin of yours, coming over.
Bookie screwed her face up and almost lept across the table till Khalil swooped in, “mention my kid again and I promise you. He ain’t gon be able to keep me from you.” She growled.
You glared at the girl, “he ain’t hers but he mine and he clearly don’t wanna talk to you. I suggest you stop sayin’ nigga by the way before actual niggas tag yo head.”
“She’s part black…”
“Shut yo dumbass up Maggie oh my god!”
“I think he can speak for himself.” Tisha said snidely.
It happened so fast but it also felt like slow motion. Even with his spidey sense Hobie didn’t see the attack coming.
After her snide remark you promptly dragged Tisha from the table and commenced to beating dat ass! Like you really whooped that hoe! Walked that girl like a dog! Honestly you should be ashamed of yourself. Shame on you [name]. Shame! Why you do that girl like that?!
When you finally got dragged off of her by Hobie who whispered in your ear trying to calm you down she was just a mess on the ground. Her wig as gone, she was missing a sandal, she had holes all in her leggings, and as much as she tried to cover it she had a knot and black eye.
Everyone whispered around shocked before one of you uncles spoke up, “aight now. Someone get the girl up off the flo’. Get her on home.” He said as her friends came to her aid. He shook his head mumbling, “shouldn’t been talkin’ shit.”
———
You sat at the kitchen table hissing in pain, “ow! That hurts Hobes!” He sucked his teeth, “oi, pipe down Mayweather. It’s not that bad.” He said as he internally winced, putting bandaids on your fingers where your nails broke off too close. You pouted before looking at him as he carefully worked, “I’m sorry I did that.” The man snorted before actually full blown laugh. “What are you apologizin’ for? Did wha’ you had to do, yeah?” His tone is light and playful. He then smirked, “it was a bit hot too…” he kissed your hands as he placed the last bandage. You looked at him with low eyes, “oh yeah?” “Yeah…”
“Ouuuu y’all in Granny kitchen being nasty!”
“You have a whole baby??? Get out???”
“Okay but lemme get summ of that potato salad behind you before I go.”
“BOOKIE!”
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Note
Hey !
About stark reader and daemon, can you do one where they are drunk and tgey go to theire quarters and just straight up start dancing ?
Im talking about the twist and those wierd 50/60 moves and maybe they are singing and the fam wanders whats going on and when they peep throw the door
Merry christmas 🎄
Milk Punch
[Blurb V for the Stark!Reader Universe]
Daemon Targaryen x Stark!Reader
Summary: You were drunk out of your mind and your husband is loving every second of it.
Word Count: >800
Warnings: fem!reader, wife!reader, mentions of heavy drinking/drunkenness, daemon simp, heavily implied sexy times, fluff, typos, etc.
A/N: lol merry new year i only got back to this now T_T but i hope it was worth the wait aslfhaslfhlashflaslfashf i did change a few things i hope thats ok im luv u nonnie this is set before they have kids so this gif is so large but who cares i love him look at him look at my evil meow meow i want him so bad also milk punch is apparently the older name or an older name of egg nog soooo the more you know Tagging: @deniixlovezelda @pinksirensong @targeryenmoony also the lovely @nyctophilic0vitnir i hope this will suffice for now since i have not gotten to writing your req yet Part IV
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"Daor, daor," I slurred "nyke daor, daor, daor-"
Daemon grabs me, one hand on my waist the other on my cheek, saying something impressively long and eye-wideningly hard to understand in High Valyrian.
I burp in my mouth as the prince asks, "did you sneak yourself some wine?"
"Daor." No.
His narrowed eyes scrutinize my face, "did you drink milk punch?
"Daor."
Daemon sighs, knowing that was in fact, not true.
"Daor," I say.
"I didn't say anything."
"Daor..."
He sighs. 100% inebriated.
"Daor-"
"That the only thing you know, love?"
I sigh, relaxing fully against his arms. Daemon's eye widens when I begin to fall back. His hands quickly dart to my sides, propping me up, gathering me into his chest, "alright, that's enough."
I pout, brows knitting, "daor!"
He rolls his eyes, "if you can tell me--" he bends down. I squeak when he grabs me below my hind and throws me over his shoulder. Daemon huffs, beginning to walk off, "--another word in High Valyrian other than no, I'll let you drink to your heart's content, pup."
I hiccup, then sigh in pain due to the involuntary tightening of my chest and throat. I think for a long while as the sight of the table where a bunch of stuffy royals were seated quickly becomes smaller. I wave at Rhaenyra when she says good night.
"Last chance," Daemon says right before he reaches the door, "ȳdragon naejot nyke, ñuha jorrāelagon."
Speak to me, my love.
I think, "daor."
Daemon rolls his eyes, promptly exiting the dining hall.
When he sets me down, I'm shocked that we're in our chambers, "when did we get here?"
Daemon spins me around and begins to undo the laces on my back, "what do you mean? We never left our chambers."
"What?!" my jaw drops as I gasp. I move to turn to him, but he holds me back, muttering something incoherent in another language.
Daemon pulls my dress down and I step out of my dress, dashing across the room, throwing arms up in the air, making my thin shift dress flow with my movements. I begin to spin and giggle, stopping only because I begin to lose my balance and fear falling.
"What are you doing?" the man across me asks. When my line of sight is not so blurry, I blink twice and run towards him.
My husband's face contorts, he settles me on my feet, "that is not dancing, little girl."
"Easy!" he snaps, lunging forward to catch me before I face plant.
I look up at him, blowing back the dark streaks of my hair, reaching out to brush back his light ones with a grin, "dancing!"
I twist my face in offence, grabbing him by his waist to pull him towards me, "I'll have you know I'm the-" I cut myself off when I trip on Daemon's feet.
"Gods help us," he sighs, setting me back up.
I huff, tightening my grip on his clothes, "-premier dancer of the North."
Daemon rolls his eyes, hands slipping down to the small of my back. I begin to lead us into a slow dance and he steadily picks up on my movements. He says, "I do not doubt you, beloved," but I am uncertain if he doubted me.
I sigh, leaning my head onto his chest, "Cregan made fun of me whenever I danced. He said I was trying too hard to be a lady."
The sound of his hum echoes in my ear, "I can emasculate him," he mutters, hand coming up to my head, "castrate the only thing manly about that dog."
I close my eyes, sighing as I feel the combing of my hair.
"I'll make sure to make up for his loss by breeding plenty pups into my bride," he rests his chin on my head.
I spin myself in his grip then jump towards him, throwing my arms over his shoulders as I continue to lead us to the music in my head.
"Kepa," I mutter pulling away from him.
He grabs my hand, pulling me close to him, "what was that?"
"Did you just call me kepa, my lady?"
I purse my lips in thought.
"Kessa ao mazverdagon nyke iā kepa, jorrāelagon?" Daemon smirks.
Will you make me a father, love?
I yawn at the sound of the words I do not understand.
Daemon recoils, "you smell like you drink for sport."
I knit my brows, "I drank as much as you!"
"And that was your mistake."
Daemon pushes me back to spin me around. I do not enjoy it because I feel the sloshing of my stomach. I hold back the liquid that threatens up my throat.
Daemon snatches me forward, lips curved into a smirk, "you don't look so good."
"I want to go to bed."
His nostrils flare in amusement, "I agree."
I yelp softly when I am swept off my feet and carried to our bed. I tense from where I was sat down when Daemon walks away. I relax only when I realize he was only putting out the lights. When my husband walks back, I bite my lip in anticipation of his movements.
He catches this, lips quirking upward as he rids himself of his clothing. He tilts his head in thought, "does this excite you?"
I nod.
He licks his lips, "do you want to play then, wolf?"
I nod once more, shifting in my place so I could reach out to him.
Daemon walks forward, pushing my black locks back as he allows me to take over the task of undressing him. He hums, "such a sweet girl for her dragon."
I nod again, looking up at him.
He chuckles, "iksan jāre naejot qogralbar ao sīr qopsa."
I'm going to fuck you so hard.
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reetreets · 10 months
Text
Ninã - Miguel O'Hara / Teen Reader
THIS IS NOT A SEXUAL RELO ITS MIGUEL BEING A PARENT OKAY
summary:
“Niña?” Her heart stops at the voice in front of her. Theres only one person in the whole multiverse who calls her that.
“What the fu-hell are you doing here?”
She looks at him with open eyes, slowly rimming with tears.
“I-uh..I could ask you the same thing?” She says nervously.
OR:
reader is 17 and pregnant and wants to get an abortion but doesn't want anyone to know but miguel finds her at the clinic and takes care of her.
3920 words
Two lines.
Her eyes frozen, straight on the lines that scream "biggest mistake of your life" in her ears. A sob escapes through her throat and she lets the tears fall uncontrollably as she covers her mouth, slapping herself internally
"How could you be so stupid?" She asks herself.
She stays in the stall for about an hour, crying and cursing to herself until her legs start cramping up and she stops crying. She decides to go send in the report to Miguel, he’s been asking her for it for a while now.
Her and Miguel never really had the best relationship. She was always getting into trouble and he was always cleaning up after her. He would always give her the most criticism when giving briefs. Whether she’s being risky on missions, not thinking straight when fighting, putting herself into danger and thus stressing him the fuck out.
She opens the door to find the brooding male standing at his monitors. ‘Come on, just hide it. just for a little bit.’ She thinks to herslelf. She takes a deep breath before walking in.
“Hey Miggy” she smirks, knowing he hates that nickname. “I got that report you’ve been wanting.” she said, waving it in the air.
He turns away from his monitors to see the report and walks towards her before taking it from her hand. “I asked to see this 2 days ago.” He says while flipping through the pages and glancing at her. He notices her puffy eyes and red cheeks. ‘Is she crying? No, knowing her she’s probably high.’
As he thinks to himself, he questions his decision to recruit such a young, stupid teenager.
“Dios mío- are you high?” He asks sternly, looking her straight in the eye.
“What? No! What makes you say that.” She says, taken aback.
“Well your eyes and cheeks are red and puffy.” He replies, pointing at her face with the papers.
“I’m not high.” She says. “Besides, where would I even get good grass around here.” She joked.
“You’re lying. Fucking Hobie again isn’t it?” He says, muttering swear words in spanish.
“I’m not lying! Breath test me right now.”
“No i’m not bothered just- get out please. I really don’t wanna deal with your bullshit today.” He says, holding the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.
“Alright alright.” She says, walking backwards to the exit .“See ya Miggy!” she laughs as he rolls his eyes, and turns back to the monitors.
But as soon as she leaves, her smile drops, and she lets out a massive breath that she didn’t know she was holding.
“Should I keep it?”
“Adoption is still a thing right?”
“How much does an abortion cost?”
“Oh God what are my parents gonna say?”
These thoughts swimming in her mind as she walks through the crowded halls of the Spider HQ.
“Ay, watch the arms fam.” She hears a voice, sounding like Hobie, but she can’t even process it right now. Her body is in autopilot, until she feels something grab at her wrist and takes her out of her mind.
“Hey, are you okay?” Gwen asks, looking at her with concerned eyes. She realises all her friends are in front of her
“Huh? Oh, yeah I’m great. Just peachy.” She says, putting on a fake smile.
“But..you’ve been crying?” Pavitr says softly, approaching her and putting an arm on her shoulder. The rest of the Spider-Teens circle her, worry filling their eyes.
“Whats wrong?”
“You alright fam?”
“You can talk to us”
She hears these words swinging around her ears until she pulls away from them and laughs.
“Guys seriously, I’m fine. Nothings wrong, I don’t know what you’re so worried about.” She says while walking away while putting the hood of her jacket on and shoving her hands in her pocket.
“I need to get rid of it.”
-
She enters the clinic, nervous with her hand clutching her purse. She walks up to a counter and looks at the nurse, “Hi, um…I have an appointment at 4?” She says softly.
“Yes of course dear, we just need you to sign these forms. Have a seat over there and we’ll call you when we’re ready to being the procedure.” The nurse says, smiling softly at her.
She nods, taking the papers and a seat in the waiting area. As she starts reading the papers, she’s thinking about how she ever got herself into this position. She feels her heart in her ears as she writes her signature for the fourth time.
“Niña?” Suddenly her heart stops at the voice in front of her. Theres only one person in the whole multiverse who calls her that.
“What the fu-hell are you doing here?”
She looks at him with open eyes, slowly rimming with tears.
“I-uh..I could ask you the same thing?” She says nervously.
“I donate here all the time. I just came to finalise some paperwork. Now you.” He said, crossing his arms.
“I…uh…” No words came out of her mouth. She sat there, silent, looking down to her feet.
“Wait.” He said, uncrossing his arms, and slowly approaching her. “Are you…pregnant?” He said, his accusatory tone being replaced with a more concerned one.
She sees him take the seat next to her, but doesn’t dare to move. Instead she lets the tears roll down her cheeks, soaking the papers as she covers her face with her hands.
“Oh niña, ¿por qué no dijiste nada?” He said, removing her arms and pulling her in for a hug. She reciprocates and wraps her arms tightly around his neck, falling into his embrace. She didn’t realise how much she needed this, having someone to care for her. To support her through this whole situation.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to disappoint you,” Her words muffled with her face in his chest. He rubs circles around her back, rethinking his choices that made her so afraid to talk to him, that she kept a whole pregnancy to herself. “Does anyone know? Do your parents know? Or your friends?” He said, as he pulled away from her and wiped the tears off her red cheeks, giving him déjà vu from their last interaction. ‘Is this what she was crying about?’ He thinks.
She shook her head. “No. No one knows. I didn’t want to tell anyone. I just want to get rid of it and forget this ever happened.” She said, looking down, while fidgeting with her fingers. He nodded in response.
“Are you gonna tell anyone?” She said softly, as she finally looked up to meet his eyes. For once, the angry eyes were gone, and were replaced with orbs full of concern and worry.
“Not if you don’t want me to. Do you have anyone to drive you home?” He asked, with one hand falling onto his lap and the other falling onto her shoulder.
“No.” she said, “I was kind of gonna catch a cab.” She laughed, looking to the side.
He shook his head again. “No, I can’t let you do that. I’ll drive you back to HQ.”
“A-Are you sure? I mean I don’t want to bother you-“
“Miss L/N?” the nurse calls her. “We’re ready when you are.” She says, smiling at the young girl.
She looks back at Miguel with fearful eyes and he takes his hand in hers. “I’ll be here when you get back. If you need anything, just send one of the nurses to get me, okay?” She stays silent and nods before getting up and following the nurse to the room.
He sees her walk away and slumps in the chair, holding his face in his hand. He shakes his head internally to himself. Jeez he was acting like this girl was his own daughter. He found himself constantly glancing at the closed door, where she lay.
-
She changed into her medical gown and exited the bathroom, the knot in her stomach slowly growing.
“Lay down here and spread your legs out, we’ll start off with the anaesthesia.” The doctor said.
She followed her instructions and laid down with her legs spread. The doctor injected her and she slowly found herself loosing feeling in her private area.
“We’ll begin the procedure now. Clamps please?” The doctor said. As they began the procedure, she found herself thinking about the life she could have led, had she had this baby. She realised that she’d been calling them ‘it’ the whole time she knew she was pregnant. She thought about how her ex-boyfriend always talked about having kids. Wanting kids. How she didn’t tell him. Not that he’d care anymore. Once he found out she was a Spider-Person, he didn’t want anything to do with her and her dangerous lifestyle.
She was crying. A feeling off loss filled her to the bone as she saw the doctors poking around. She covers her mouth with her hand to hide the sob threatening to escape her mouth, and the other to grip the sheets she lays on. Squeezing her eyes closed as the tears ran down into her hair.
She feels a hand holding onto her shoulder
“Do you want me to call him to come inside here?” The nurse said.
She nodded quickly. She really didn’t want to bother him, but she was hurting. she needed his support. She needed him to tell her everything was gonna be fine. That she was making the right decision.
- “Mr O’Hara?” the nurse called out.
As soon as he heard his name, he stood up and rushed in front of the nurse.
“Is she okay? Are there any complications?” He said hurriedly, trying to look inside the room, even though the door was closed.
“She’s doing well physically, but…I think she needs someone to hold her hand. Give her some support, you know?”
He nodded and the nurse opened the door to reveal a hurting, young girl crying on the bed, while the doctors did the procedure. His heart broke at the sight. The girl he knew, who was always confident, always sassy, always upbeat and positive, was crumbling down right in front of him.
He rushed to her side and sat down in the chair next to her bed. He took the hand covering her mouth and the hand holding the sheets and took them both in one hand. The other went straight to her cheeks, wiping her tears away. “Shh, shh ninã, its okay, I’m here. Everything’s gonna be okay. You can squeeze my hand if you need to.” He said calmly, while taking the strands of hair covering her face and tucked it behind her ear.
And she squeezed his hand like he was the last drip of water she would ever drink. She let the sobs out of her stomach and he rubbed her head soothingly, occasionally moving to wipe her tears and letting out supportive words here and there, some even in Spanish.
“The procedure is complete. You can change back into your clothes and get the final paperwork from reception.” The doctor said, before removing her gloves and walking out of the room, the nurses following closely behind her.
As soon as they left, Miguel got up to sit up on the bed and held her as she cried into his shoulder. He closed his eyes, imagining if it was his daughter in this situation. She was kind of like his daughter. She had the same ambitious personality. The same optimistic outlook on life, always active and always making trouble. He just wanted to support her. Make her feel better. So he held onto her, tighter, afraid to let go one more time.
After some time, her cries calmed, and the anaesthesia wore off, so she moved off the bed and went to the bathroom to change back into her clothes. She shimmied her underwear on, but fatigue hit her like a truck, and for the love of God she couldn’t get her pants on. She whined and groaned as she tried to get her pants on but failed.
Miguel heard her sounds and knocked on the door.
“Ninã? Are you okay?”
She whined once again. “They won’t go up.” she said, slurring her words just the tiniest bit, but this didnt pass through Miguel’s head.
He walked in and saw her struggling to put her pants on. “Ay querida, let me help you.” He said, rushing to her side. He takes her pants and pulls them up slowly, afraid to hurt her. He notices her dazed figure and as soon as he pulls her pants up the whole way, he puts an arm on her back and leaves the room, grabbing her purse in the process. He never once leaves her side, all he wants is to help her.
They enter reception and he gently sits her down on one of the chairs. She lets her head hit the wall as she sees him walk towards the reception desk and ask for the paperwork. As she sits, waiting patiently, she keeps replaying the look on his eyes when he found out she was pregnant. He was not in the least bit mad at her, or disappointed or anything. All he did was care for her. Nurture her, like she was his own child.
She imagined her family life to be different. If maybe in one universe, Miguel actually her dad, and how he would probably care for her like this all the time.
“Ninã? Wake up, we have to go now. Let’s get you back to HQ and to a bed.”
She nodded slowly and got out of the chair. He held her waist and helped her to leave the clinic and right into his car. Which happens to be a pickup truck.
‘Typical Miguel. Of course he would have a pickup truck’ She chuckles to herself.
He helps her into the seat, even putting the seatbelt on for her, tucking her legs into the seat. He wants her to be comfortable, and does everything in his power to do so.
“Is this okay?” He asks, looking into her glassy eyes.
She gives a soft smile and replies. “Yeah. Thank you.”
He smiles back and closes the door, making his way to the other side of the car.
As they drive she finds herself looking out the window, passing multiple families with children, how happily they race around the park. How their ice-cream touches their noses, leaving a light mark. How the smiles of the children never fail to brighten someone’s day. She starts contemplating her decision to get rid of the child. Regret starts flowing through her brain.
“Do you think I made the right decision?” She asks softly, still looking out the window.
Miguel sighs, glancing at her then back at the road. “Yes Querida. I think you have too much going on in your life right now. With being Spider-Woman, a student, and a daughter to your own family, a child of your own would be way too much. And this is just my opinion, but I think you’re too young to be a mother. You’ll have plenty of time for that when you’re older.” He says, never skipping a beat.
His words sink into her brain and she realises that he’s right. She is too young. She has too many responsibilities of her own right now. If she has a child, she would have to give up everything. Even being a spider.
She blinks her tears away and lifts her legs to rest her chin on her knees. ‘Yeah, he’s right.’ She thinks to herself, as she slowly drifts off to sleep.
Miguel glances at her and sighs. The worry never stopped. For the rest of the trip, he kept glancing back at her. He never stopped to make sure she was comfortable. That she was okay. He understands how shitty it must be for her right now. She doesn’t need him to be frantic and mad at her. He’s only mad that she didn’t come to him sooner. She was prepared to go through this without telling anyone. She was going into this by herself and that made him angry. Not at her, but himself. He was meant to be a leader. Someone people look up to. Someone people can come to when they need help, or have a concern. Especially the ones so young, like Gwen, Miles and Pavitr.
‘No wonder they always ask Peter and Jess for backup, and not me.’ He thinks to himself.
They arrive at HQ and he notices how she’s still deep in slumber. He opens her door and carries her in his arms.
He makes his way to his personal room and sets her down in his bed, ever so gently, as not to wake her. He tucks her in bed and tucks her hair behind her ear to reveal her face. He notices the puffiness and redness surrounding her face has decreased. He pecks her on the forehead and moves out to his office.
He takes his place in front of his monitors, as his suit appears and his normal clothes diminish.
“Lyla?”
“Sup Boss?”
“Keep a screen of the security cameras in my room on next to me.”
“Keeping an eye on your adopted child? So adorable.” She says, before disappearing and the video recording pops up next to his work. He sighs, questioning his sanity when he was programming her to be the sassiest person he knew.
As he continued his work, his eyes kept glancing towards the monitor next to him. He never stopped thinking about her. He wouldn’t admit this out loud, but he did feel like a father. He remembered the times when his daughter would get sick. How he would care for her, and make her soup, and take her temperature, and hold her in his arms- ‘stop it.’ He thought to himself.
He shuts those thoughts off immediately. Cracking his neck and rerouting his focus onto his work.
Hours pass and he realises that she probably hasn’t had anything to drink or eat the whole day. He decides to finish this report and get some food from the cafeteria. He makes his way through the crowd, finding people moving out of his way, cowering in fear. He sighs, ‘I really need to work on how I look to these people.’
As he orders his food, he feels an arm fall around his neck.
“Ay big boss. How’re ya?”
Hobie. For the love of God why him.
He sighs and turns around to find all the other spider-kids surrounding him. He raises an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“Nothin’, just wonderin’, you know anythin’ ‘bout the little one? She’s been dodging us this whole day and we fink you’re the only one who’s gotta know.”
“We’re just worried about her. We saw her crying when she came out of your office.” Gwen says.
He looks down at her and thinks for a moment. He remembered her words.
“I didn’t want to tell anyone. I just want to get rid of it and forget this ever happened.”
He sighs, “She’s sick. Stomach bug or something.” He says vaguely, while turning around and picking up the tray of food.
Before they can respond, he walks away, making a path towards his dorm.
As he opens the door, he finds her sitting up scratching her head. ‘She must have just woken up’. He says.
“Hey Ninã. How are you feeling.?” He says, sitting next to her on the bed, and putting the tray on the table.
She groans. “Like shit.”
“Yeah I thought you would. I brought you some food from the cafeteria. I’m thinking you probably haven’t had anything to eat or drink all day.”
“Ugh I love you you’re the best.” She said, while grabbing a burger from the mountain of food and taking a big bite of it. She sighs in content.
With her mouth full of food, she asks, “Why did you order so much food?”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” He said sternly, his fatherly senses kicking in. “Well I didn’t know what you liked, so I just got a bunch of food and thought I’d let you choose.”
She nods while taking another bite, and letting out another sigh. “you’re the best. did I tell you that?”
He laughs, “Yeah, you did.”
He watches her stuff her face with all the food he brought.
An idea pops into his head.
“Hey uh, if you’re up for it…I have a couple movies in the other room. We could have a movie night?”
She widens her eyes, “Oh my God YES!! Please can I invite the others? Oh they would love it so much. Please please please!” She said, dragging out the last word as she pouted.
He sunk his head down. He didn’t like the idea of the kids in his private room, but still. His main concern was her. “Yeah. Thats alright. Did you want me to call them? Or-“
“No need, already messaged them.” She smiled, putting her phone down.
Within the next second, a group consisting of Hobie, Miles, Pavitr and Gwen bust into the room. Hobie came with a bag full of her favourite snacks.
“Hey! You’re okay!” Gwen says, racing to go hug her. “We heard you were sick with a stomach bug. You doing okay now?”
She goes to hug her back. “Yeah, I’m feeling much better now.” She says, smiling at Miguel. Silently thanking him for staying quiet about the whole thing. He understands, and smiles in return.
The others go to hug her and light conversation passes through the air. He decides that it’s best to leave the kids to themselves and makes his way to the door.
Until it slams open again.
“Hey!! Heard theres a movie night going on here. Decided to come. And look who I brought!!” Peter says excitedly, while holding Mayday up for everyone to see.
Miguel groans as he lets him pass through.
“You can’t help it man. Just accept it.” Jess said, making her way through and patting him on the shoulder.
He turns to face everyone as they buzz with excitement.
“So what movie are we gonna watch?”
“Oh!! We should have a marathon!”
“Star Wars!! Has to be Star Wars.”
Miguel chuckles to himself, watching the kids’ enthusiasm hum through his room. He lets his eyes sit on her smile. He’s glad that she’s feeling better.
“Alright alright. I’ll put it in.” He says. A grin slowly forming on his face, he hides it.
After he selects the movie, he makes his way onto his bed, sitting next to the girl. She moves over to give him more room and she sets her eyes onto the screen
As the movies progress, the light conversation and debates about who’s a better character, Luke or Hans, reduces to light snores. Miguel finds his eyes setting on the girl, as her head falls onto his shoulder. She’s half asleep, barely paying attention, but awake enough to smile.
“Thank you.” She whispers, her eyes never leaving the screen.
“For what?” Miguel questions.
“For today. For helping me. And supporting me. I don’t know how I would have done it without you.”
He smiles down at her and wraps an arm around her, bringing her closer, so her head falls onto his chest and she falls into a deep slumber.
“Anytime, Ninã.”
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greenhikingboots · 1 year
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Jon’s Pre-Canon Crush
Okay, Jonsa fam. I’ve seen a lot of great posts, especially in the last few months, about Jon’s reactions to Val. Among them, there’s one particular vein I like to assume everyone loves as much as I do. That is, when Jon thinks of Val’s hair as silver vs. when he thinks of it as the color of dark honey. You’ve seen those metas, right? They explain the likelihood of Jon’s future connection to Dany being negative — The air tastes cold. / My tongue is too numb to tell. All I taste is cold. — while his future connection to Sansa will be positive — It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.
Well, in this post I want to expand on the angle of Val-is-sometimes-a-stand-in-for-Sansa. Only, I don’t want to speculate on what will happen between Jon and Sansa in the future, if we ever get GRRM’s last two books. Enough people have already done that, and they’ve done it so wonderfully that I have little to add. Instead, as the title of this post says, I want to focus on Jon’s pre-canon crush. More specifically: I want to focus on what Jon’s thoughts and feelings about Val say about his thoughts and feelings about Sansa.
But let me lay some groundwork first, okay? Until a few weeks ago, I went back and forth on pre-canon crush theories. I agreed they held a lot of potential and were a lot of fun to daydream about — a great premise for a one-shot, to be sure! Oh, and I’ve always loved it when people said things like, “Hey, Jon, your Targaryen is showing.” That’s classic stuff. But did I really think GRRM meant to hint at prior feelings rather than just laying a foundation for future feelings? Again, until a few weeks ago, I wasn’t totally convinced either way. But now I am fully committed to the Pre-Canon Crush Camp, assigned to cabin Jon-Had-Feelings-for-Sansa. [Did Sansa have feelings for Jon too? Ummm maybe? I think there’s some evidence to support that, but not as much. But, hey, that’s not the point of this post. Sorry. Moving on.] So what changed? Well, basically some ideas I’d previously had sunk in on a deeper level. It started with this post from @sherlokiness. It talks about GRRM commenting on a discrepancy in the books, two occasions where Jeyne Westerling’s physical descriptions do not match up. GRRM said the discrepancies were a mistake, a really unfortunate one because it distracts from the times when he intentionally included discrepancies of physical appearances. And basically us Jonsas loved it. Like, “Yep! Make sense! We assumed as much already, Mr. Martin.” And that’s because of the canon line mentioned earlier, right? You know the whole thing, don’t you? Oh, but you want me to quote it here anyway? Okay, fine, I’ll oblige.
They [Ghost and Val] look as though they belong together. Val was clad all in white [bleh, bleh, bleh] …but her eyes were blue, her long braid the color of dark honey, her cheeks flushed red from the cold. It had been a long while since Jon Snow had seen a sight so lovely.
Direwolf. Lots of white. Suspicious ellipses. Blue eyes. Long braid the color of dark honey. Right, okay, got it.  [BTW. Did you know there’s also a point, early on, where Val’s described as having high cheekbones? You know, a feature Sansa has as well!?!?] Anyway, when I saw sherlokiness’s post about GRRM’s comments and the Jonsas relating it to that canon scene with Ghost and Val, I reblogged it. Naturally. And in the tags I said something like, “I’ll have to double check but I’m pretty sure the willowy creature line comes after this line. As in, maybe Jon knew exactly who Val reminded him in that moment and he was trying to talk himself out of his pre-canon crush coming back to the surface.” I’m paraphrasing here. My tags were probably not as clear as that. Also, I was being a bit facetious. It was a thought I’d had before, but just a passing one. Again (AGAIN! Do I say that too much?), I’d been going back and forth about pre-canon crush theories for a long time. But @agentrouka-blog saw my tags and was like, “You might be onto something there.” And then @zimshan saw my tags too and did the double check for me. Thanks! And guess what? GUESS WHAT, JONSA FAM!? I was right about the order. First, Jon sees Ghost and Val, thinks her eyes are blue and her hair is like dark honey, and it is a lovely sight. Second, this line:
Val looked the part [of a princess] and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her.
But guess what else? The order isn’t even the most striking thing. The most striking thing is how closely these two lines appear to one another — within just a few pages!!! That's what zimshan said. So I went back to read it myself. Not just the two lines to check the order, but a little before, and a little after, and everything in between. If you want, you can do the same. It’s ADWD Jon XI.
Want to know what stuck out to me most? The willowy creature line actually seems… so odd, and out of place, and unnecessary. I swear to you. Let me try to explain.
Basically, by that point in the chapter, Jon has already clearly established his take on Val. She’s beautiful, everyone knows it, but she’s more than that. She’s strong and capable. She found Tormund and brought him back to Castle Black when Jon’s Night’s Watch Rangers couldn’t manage it. Like, Jon’s thankful for Val, okay? 
Oh, and he also seems aware that he holds her in higher regard than the rest of the men who keep calling her a princess even though she’s not one. I think he feels smug about it, to be honest. Like, he wouldn’t use these words because it’s ASOIAF, but he knows he’s a budding feminist and he’s proud of himself for it. Like, “I’m so much better than these asshats who don’t respect women and think all Val has to offer is her pretty face.”
How great is that? I love book Jon so much.
Where was I, though? Oh! Oh, oh, oh! This next part is key. Up until the willowy creature line, Jon has not had a single disparaging thought about Val. Val being cruel about Shireen’s greyscale hasn’t happened yet. But for some reason — *Getting too executed. Brain malfunctioning!*
AH! I SWEAR JONSA FAM! If you read the willowy creature in fuller context, it comes across as if Jon’s correcting himself for having a disparaging thought about Val, like he’s reminding himself of who she truly is. She’s a warrior princess, not a willowy creature. But like, why? Why does Jon feel the need to do this? He hasn’t had a disparaging thought about Val, so why correct himself as if he has?
Just because she’s beautiful? Just because he’s tired of other men calling her a princess? I mean, I guess that could be the whole story. That’s certainly how we’re supposed to take it, if we’re taking it at face value. But I’m not convinced. Go read it again, and I think you’ll see that when the willowy creature line happens, it actually feels like a weird logic leap.
The dots aren’t connecting because one dot is missing!!!! Let me put a pin in that for a moment while I turn to other mini metas in our Jonsa fandom. Antis like to say, “Jon doesn’t like girls like Sansa. He doesn't like willowy creatures, he said so himself.” But we know that’s crap, right? The boy who liked Ygritte’s gentle side? The boy who helps Alys Karstark by marrying her to Sigorn? The boy who dreamed his mother was a highborn lady with kind eyes? The boy who wanted to show his hypothetical wife Winterfell’s glass gardens and bath with her in the hot pools?
Yeah, that boy is a budding feminist, like I said.
So again I ask (AGAIN!) why would Jon — who is not especially critical of women in general and has not been critical of Val at all up to this point — feel the need to correct himself by thinking this critical thing about willowy creatures? In other words, why does he lift up Val by putting down some vague idea of other women he’s never had a problem with before?
Well, obviously it turns out that I believe my facetious, tongue in cheek tags more than I realized when I wrote them. My position is that somewhere in the two pages between ...a long while since Jon had seen a sight so lovely… and ...not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair… Jon realized Val reminded him of Sansa, he felt guilty and ashamed about it, and then felt the need to do damage control. And because guilt and shame are icky, confusing feelings, his damage control took the form of being critical of Sansa even though he isn’t normally critical of such women. 
Am I making sense? How do I explain myself further? Like, why am I so stuck on this idea Jon’s willowy creature line being two pages after the Ghost and Val looking lovely together line must mean Jon had a pre-canon crush?
I think the crux is what I said about the willowy creature line feeling like a weird logic leap — like the dots aren’t connecting because one is missing. The missing dot is Jon being aware that he’s mentally swapped Val with Sansa. He just doesn’t acknowledge this on the page.
Let me be extra clear. I’m now differing from several others who have written about pre-canon crush theories in that I think Jon was aware of his crush. I’ve seen many say it’s all subconscious. But this stuff with Val makes me think otherwise.
I mean, I know Jon has a pattern of dissociation. For him, thinking, and speaking, and acting from his subconsciousness is a common occurrence. So, yes, he could have subconsciously thought Val looked like Sansa and subconsciously felt guilty and ashamed and therefore subconsciously decided to do damage control by subconsciously reminding himself Val is a warrior princess and therefore not a willowy creature.
But I think GRRM was hinting at an exception to Jon’s pattern with these canon lines. Because if the first part is happening subconsciously — Jon thinking Val looks like Sansa and that it’s a lovely sight — then he wouldn’t feel the need to do damage control afterwards? If he wasn’t aware of thinking of Sansa in that moment, isn’t it more likely he’d just carry on with taking Val to meet Selyse, and the odd, out of place, unnecessary line about a willowy creature wouldn’t have been included? What else, what else?
I said earlier that I think Jon’s crush is an innocent, not sexual thing. Let me expand on that. And uuuuuhhhhh... let me clarify that I think that might be changing some over time.  My guess is when Jon was younger, his thoughts were more along these lines: “Sansa is pretty, and a proper lady, and everything men are taught to want. She’ll be a good wife for someone someday. Obviously not me. That’s sinful, I don’t want it, and I’m a bastard so I can’t marry a highborn lady anyway. But objectively, Sansa’s a good catch.” Which kinda matches how Jon thinks of Val at times, right? Like, she’s a catch but he doesn’t want her. He’s not taking Winterfell and a Wife because Winterfell belongs to Sansa and he’s a man of the Night’s Watch, dammit! But hang on a second. Sometimes Jon’s thoughts about Val are more elicit, aren’t they? He thinks about the size of her breasts and she’s the hypothetical wife he pictures romancing in Winterfell. Don’t worry, I’m not saying I’m secretly a Jon/Val shipper. What I’m getting at is this other thing we’ve talked about in the Jonsa fandom. Jone projects his general desires onto Val. He’s getting older. He’s unhappy at the Wall. Winterfell isn’t Robb’s like he thought it would be, and Bran and Rickon are thought to be dead. And Stannis is offering Winterfell and Val to him. Plus he’s now been intimate with a woman, Ygritte. So he knows that sex feels nice. All in all, Jon’s becoming more in tune with wanting Winterfell, and a wife, and a family, and wanting to fu—
You get the idea. ;)
Soooooo. If you buy into the premise that A) Jon considered Sansa a good catch when they were younger B) He’s thinking more and more about romance and sex C) Val is also a good catch and easy to project feelings onto and D) Woopsies, Val just reminded me of Sansa! Well, then where does all that leave Jon? Feeling like he needs to distance himself from positive thoughts about Sansa, right? But without ever thinking her name because of his pattern of dissociation and because GRRM is tricky like that.  Am I making my point clearer, or just talking in circles?  Like, I know plenty of people have already said Val is a switch-back-and-forth-stand-in-for-other-characters. The first two short paragraphs of this post mentions those metas.  But holy smokes! If Jon is aware of A-D mentioned above, that adds a fascinating layer of subtext to his scenes with and thoughts about Val.  Let’s talk about it forever!
Just kidding. I think I’m almost done here.  Basically, I think the willowy creature line is Jon knowingly saying to himself, “Yikes, the thoughts I had about Sansa in the past didn’t bother me much because they were 99% innocent. But they are less innocent now and that’s a problem! You can’t like Sansa! Don’t confuse Sansa with Val,  dummy! Val is a warrior princess! Sansa is a willowy creature and willowy creatures are bad!”
Okay, sure, Jon.  Let me wrap up with one more canon line.
Of Sansa brushing out Lady’s coat and singing to herself. You know nothing, Jon Snow.
We often link this line to Ygritte for obvious reasons, but I’m now in the habit of linking it more to Val and the canon lines mentioned previously. I think GRRM wrote a the three lines — a sight so lovely + willow creature + of Sansa brushing out Lady’s coat — as a subtle continuation of one another. Us Jonsas saw the potential for underlying romantic feelings in the last one, that’s nothing new. But I want to add that it’s a direct contrast to the willowy creature line. As Jon is bleeding out, he can no longer be bothered to put up a front and pretend he doesn’t have feelings for Sansa, feelings that have gotten more complicated as of late.
Oh so subtle. Really not that much different than what others have said before me. But different enough I wanted to mention it. Now someone put it in a fanfic!!
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mllky-way-galaxy · 5 months
Note
Can I request MK w/ a fem!reader who’s good at fighting? :3
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✦ 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰✦ Redson x Female reader
✦ 𝓡𝓾𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱✦ with reader thats good at fighting
✦ 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓼-𝓾𝓹✦ Fluff, spelling errors
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꒰ ✦ ꒱   ──𝓡𝓮𝓭𝓼𝓸𝓷 "𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓸𝓷 𝓞𝓯 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓓𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷 𝓑𝓾𝓵𝓵 𝓕𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓵𝔂"
You think you're so great just because you can land some hits on him, but you're wrong. You get a lot of stamina, strength, and good looks, but that doesn’t matter!! Brains over being a dumb, strong gorilla!! Don’t bother trying to understand that his IQ is on another level, and you may be kind of good-looking, just a little like how you look while training the image: sweat dripping down your forehead and neck while gasping air.
He wasn’t watching at all; he's thinking about something you wouldn’t understand even if you used your whole hollow brain. As if he’ll join you, either has not fam of sweating like some sort of pig! Don’t you dare ask again! A foolish human like you against him doesn’t have a chance anyway.
You could get badly injured and he won’t care at all (he would care so much you couldn’t even imagine how badly he would freak), like you aren’t like machines and neither are any sort of mystical being, so you're more fragile (your not) than most, so it was all your fault for getting hurt, so just shut up, lay down in bed, and let him take care of you!
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if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!
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dameronscopilot · 1 year
Note
I would like to request Santiago degrading me…just fuck me up fam…..
eager
Santiago "Pope" Garcia x f!reader
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Summary: Santiago knows exactly why you're flitting about in a flowy little dress on football Sunday with the boys, and sure, he'll give you what you want. Just not quite in the way you expected.
Word Count: 1k
Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT
Content: NSFW, smut, dirty talk, degradation, exhibitionism kink, unprotected p in v, creampie
“Look at you.”
All of the air punches out of your lungs from where you’re standing on your tip toes attempting to reach into a cabinet when you feel the solid press of Santiago against the curve of your ass, his fingertips digging firmly into your hipbones.
You sink down onto your heels, the cup slipping from your grip, and you let your weight fall against your boyfriend as he cages you against the edge of the countertop.
“You fucking did this on purpose,” he rasps against the shell of your ear.
He roughly grasps the skirt of your dress, bunching up the material into his fist. The dress you’d opted to wear for a balmy football Sunday at Benny’s with the boys, if only because you couldn’t help your penchant for doing things that you knew were guaranteed to drag a reaction out of him. 
And while he’d managed to behave as you plopped down into his lap on the recliner earlier, and even throughout the multitude of times you’d bent over in front of him at the coffee table, the moment you excused yourself to grab a drink from the kitchen, all fucking bets were off. Especially after he was treated to a view of your panties as the meager hem of your dress rode up when you lifted your arms to open the cabinet. 
Santiago knew this game you were playing with him well, and regardless of the fact that your friends were but a room away, he’d give you exactly what you wanted—right here and now.
With his teeth grazing your neck, he murmurs, “I know you hate football, cariño. I bet you want me to find some excuse for us to go home so you can ride my cock.”
You keen quietly at his words, pressing back against his erection that’s currently digging into your backside.
He pinches your ass, teeth sinking into the junction between your neck and collarbone for a moment before continuing, “But that’s not what’s going to happen.”
Your face heats up as he reaches down, slipping both hands up under your dress and sliding his fingers inside of your underwear to cup your asscheeks. 
“Instead, I’m going to fuck you right here like the slut you are.”
While you’d half expected him to at least drag you into the bathroom down the hall, or even to the privacy of the laundry room, an unexpected thrill shoots down your spine at his proposition.
“But…” 
“But what?” He chuckles darkly as one of his hands makes its way to your cunt, two of his fingers swiping through your dripping folds—the arousal has been steadily soaking your underwear ever since Santiago’s thigh pressed against your hot core when you were situating yourself in his lap earlier. “You want to be fucked so bad, if I don’t do this now, this shit is going to be dripping down your thighs soon.”
As if to make his point even more abundantly clear, he removes his fingers from where they’ve begun prodding at your entrance and shows you the thick, sticky arousal coating them before popping them into his mouth. 
“I know it’s hard for you not to moan like a whore when my cock is stuffed inside of you, baby. But you’re going to have to be a good girl and be quiet for once,” he adds with a smirk and a wink. 
It’s almost kind of fucked up how much you love when he talks to you like this, something made increasingly obviously by the fresh gush of arousal now staining your panties. And he only does it because he knows what it does to you.
You hear the sound of a zipper, and Santiago presses your back down against the counter as he shoves the skirt of your dress up again, hooking a finger in your panties and pushing them aside. Before you can stop yourself, a gasp leaves your lips when he notches the head of his thick cock at your entrance and plunges inside of you without preamble.
Santiago folds his body over yours as he snaps his hips against you, roughly dragging his cock through your tight channel. Another whine tumbles from your throat when he reaches around to toy with your throbbing clit while he pounds into you, your sopping wet folds wetly squelching at the force with which he’s fucking you.
“Keep making noise, and someone’s going to hear us,” he mutters lowly.
Your next moan is an aborted sound, slightly strangled at the feeling of his cock slamming into your cervix.
“Unless that’s what you want. You want Benny to walk in here and see you being a slut for me in the middle of his kitchen?”
The countertop is cool as you drop your forehead against it, a direct contrast to the fire simmering in your belly, and you shamelessly rut back against Santiago at the accusation. 
He drives into you even harder as he whispers, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You want him to see what a cock drunk little mess you are, begging me to fuck you stupid and fill you up.”
“Yeah,” you breathe out, fingers frantically gripping for purchase on the marble surface beneath them, legs shaking with the sparks of pleasure careening through your body.
“You’d probably let him shove his cock inside of you, too, while my cum’s still dripping out of your fucked out little hole. I know how bad your greedy little cunt wants to be filled again and again.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
Your vision goes white as the coiled tension inside of you snaps without warning, and Santiago’s hand reflexively covers your mouth as you clench down on his cock, your entire body trembling with the force of your climax. Santi follows immediately after, hips stuttering as his shaft begins to pulse inside of you, covering your inner walls with hot ropes of cum.
Santi wastes no time in flipping you around as you’re coming down from your orgasm, your chest still heaving when his lips seek out yours. The kiss is soft and tender, and he cups the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice tinged with a slight edge of uncertainty, unsure if he went too far.
“Yeah,” you nod, a sincere smile on your face as you brush your nose against his and kiss him again. "But we should probably talk about Benny..."
Santiago huffs out an amused response before nipping at your bottom lip.
Yeah. You'll talk about that later.
Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!
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quitealotofsodapop · 9 months
Note
"It takes Shadowpeach literal years of living and raising a child together before they realise that they've fallen back in love" of course. Could you give more details? Like what was the time it takes between that happening and them realizing? Who fell first? How long after that until they actually do something about it or do they still avoid the subject to canon time
OK SO
Basically, at the start of the story the Shadowpeach is on a bit of a hiatus cus of the whole... Macaque being killed thing.
Macaque is understandably very upset with Wukong. Like, if Wukong hadnt shown up with MK's egg, Macaque could have darn near killed him. But he's able to put his anger aside for the sake of the unborn Stone Monkey.
Wukong this whole time has had deep festering love for Macaque, but resigned himself to grief in the centuries following his death. The joy he feels upon his resurrection is clouded by the fear of losing him again. So much so he fears reigniting their flame.
Cue them coming across Pigsy. The pig demon assumes from the shabby clothes, the arguing, and the bump under Macaque's clothes (actually MK's egg in a harness); that the two are young, soon-to-be parents needing shelter. Wukong hams the misunderstanding up, and Macaque is too furious with him to clear the air.
Basically they move into the apartment pretending to be a couple. And soon after a while, the pretending starts getting harder and harder to differentiate from the real domestic love they shared back on Flower Fruit Mountain.
Its around the time of MK's first birthday when they begin to suspect the other of falling back in love. It almost takes another birthday for Macaque to accept that Wukong is geniunely trying to mend things between them, but scars run deep.
When MK turns 3, a random demon gets a drop on the fam - I'm leaning towards a variatn of the annoying Demon of Confusion from the very beginning of Wukong's tale. The demon assumes MK and Macaque are just really powerful monkey spirits and whisks them away to be his servants. Cue the whole noodle fam, especially Wukong going ballistic. In the ensuing rescue, Macaque is... conflicted.
Here's a rough draft:
Macaque: "You didn't have to save me, you know?" SW: "Why wouldn't I? I couldn't just leave you with that jerk." Macaque: "Because I had your living vanity trophy on my back?" Toddler!MK, in a sling: *babbling* SW: "I... I know that you could have escaped. Fought your way out on your own without breaking a sweat... But when I learned that Demon *took* you away, I just... I just..." Macaque: "Just what?" SW: "I just... thought of how many of MK's birthday's you'd miss. How many dinners at Pigsy's uneaten. How many nights alone in bed... I lasted over 500 years. But now... I don't think I could have survived another day without you." Macaque, realizing: "Oh..." Pigsy, Tang & Sandy: *wondering if they should leave the lovebirds alone*
After that incident, they slowly build back up their relationship. Baby steps, just to confirm the bonds hold firm.
It would take them a few months to spit out an "I love you". The first one to break being Wukong - watching Macaque doing a shadow puppet show for MK with a goofy look on his face. He says it without warning, thinking it was just in his head until Macaque froze. It took Macaque a week to respond with "The feeling is mutual I suppose" while lying in bed.
They do hit snags later down the line. Notably SW briefly regressing back to a "find means of immortality for mate and baby"-phase the first time MK got seriously injured. And in turn Macaque hiding how much he was hurt by his death, and hiding who resurrected him + the price he has to pay for it. This also not including Sun Wukong disobeying his order from the Celestial Realm to "scramble" MK.
Until the events of "A Hero Is Born", Monkey King is pretty much assumed perma-retired after the New Stone Egg incident, while the Six Eared Macaque is presumed dead. Then the Demon Bull Family indirectly drag them back into the spotlight.
They are both emotionally constipated, your honor. I sentence them to 18 years of hard parenting and couple's counseling.
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Merry Christmas, Janus
Summary: After the gift exchange, Janus returns to the Dark Side of the Mindpalace to relax and reflect. As he picks up his new socks, he finds a second gift from Roman…maybe he really should have laid off of the wine.
Pairings: None, background prinxiety if you squint
Warnings: WINE/ALCOHOL MENTION, NO COMFORT, I GUESS?
(A/N: So I'm posting this really, REALLY late because I had no energy to finish this but I finally do!)
When Logan had invited him and Remus to this year’s gift exchange with the whole Fam-ILY, Janus hadn’t expected things to go the way they did. Yes, he might have downed a few glasses as he refused to show up sober. He didn’t want to have to remember such a warm and soft event. He didn’t to have to hear all the sappy shit coming from those Light side dorks. Especially from Patton. Janus especially did NOT want to deal with Virgil and Roman while he was sober.
            Speaking of the prince, Janus finds himself glancing over at the Creative side. Roman was currently curled up on the couch with Virgil, babbling away as he showed the anxious side his twenty-dollar bill with his face on it. Virgil chuckled, lounging against Roman’s side, and saying something Janus could care less about. Though…something twists in Janus’ stomach as he watches the two of them get cozy, Roman wrapping an arm around Virgil who nuzzles him. Gross.
            Janus watches them a little longer before turning away. He finishes his remaining wine and makes the mug vanish as he tries to ignore his still throbbing cheek from the bitch-slap earlier. Yeah, he probably deserved it though. The lying side then glances at Roman and Virgil again, glancing away when Virgil suddenly glares at him. Janus doesn’t know when, but Virgil has been acting like the prince’s guard dog and hardly ever leaves his side. Huffing, Janus turns to Remus.
“Remus, get up. We’re going home.” Janus hisses.
Remus looks up from where he’s sitting on the floor with his air-fryer. Somehow, Remus has managed to put several substances and a stick of deodorant in it.
“Already?” he whines. “But I wanna stay! I’m making dinner!”
Janus cringes at the chunky slop in the air-fryer bucket.
“We already had dinner. You can bring that home and play with it all you want there.”
Remus pouts and unplugs his appliance, tucking the bucket back in.
“Boo, you’re no fun, you Scrooge.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want to be here. It’s getting too sappy for my liking.”
“Fiiine.” Remus then turns to the rest of the room. “Hey, dorks! We’re dipping out. Snakey here is getting grouchy.”
Janus huffs.
“Thanksss, Remusss…” he hisses.
            After what felt like an hour of goodbyes, thank yous, and Christmas wishes as well as a good riddance from Roman and Virgil, Janus and Remus finally sank out and returned home. As soon as they popped up into the dark and cold common room, Janus beelined towards his office while Remus scurried off somewhere with the air-fryer. Janus didn’t care and entered his office, locking the door behind him. Usually, this is where he starts chugging a bottle of wine but for once he’s trying to sober up so he can sort out his mind. Maybe he’ll thank Roman for slapping him somewhat awake.
Roman…
Of all the sides…Roman had to be the one to have his name.
            Janus sighs and stares at the box on his desk. Despite everything he’d done to the prince, Roman still put in the effort to make his gift look nice. Roman was even thoughtful, giving him a gift he could make use of rather than giving him some fancy trinket. The snake side picks up the box and opens it. Luckily, the bitch-slap-in-a-box was a one-time thing. Setting the lid aside, Janus picks up the mustard yellow socks inside and gazes at them. Sure, they’re just socks and usually they’re not a gift you want to receive on Christmas, but part of Janus couldn’t be upset. Roman gave him an actual gift rather than just leaving him with nothing.
Trying to ignore his heavy thoughts, the deceitful side discards his gloves and runs his fingers over the fabric of the sock. They’re quite soft, much to his surprise. He at least expected it to be some god-awful fabric that would try to rip the scales off of his feet. Janus then picks up the other sock and feels it only to pause when he feels something crinkly in the sock. He winces and prays it’s not another prank from the prince. Bracing himself, Janus reaches in, and his fingertips pluck a folded and now crumpled piece of stationery. Of course. There in black ink and written in cursive is his own name. Oh. Janus then opens the paper, a very long and cursive message waiting inside.
Dear Sna  Dec  Janus,
            I apologize if my gift to you isn’t anything fancy. And I’m not talking about the bitch slap. Sorry for that by the way. I wasn’t going to do it at first but I thought it’d be funny. Honestly, I’m glad I got to see it in person. I really wanted to slap you, but I didn’t want to look like the jerk of all jerks. Again. Now, why am I writing this letter to you? Well…I have a lot to say to you and I don’t think you’d understand if I tried to say it in person. Despite your role, you’d never believe me. You’d probably think I was sucking up to our dear old dad or even Thomas. So, I’m doing it in letter form. Writing always helped me free my mind of the things I don’t want to think about.
            I just wanted to know, why do you hate me? Forgive me if you’re still bitter about the hat stealing and the name calling. Everything. To be truly honest, I had no idea what to do. When we were in the courtroom, everything was flipped outside down and all around. They said to trust you and then they said not to. When I tried to follow, they didn’t like it. Like I walked down the wrong path despite them giving me the map. Funny, isn’t it? Trying to do what you thought was right only to hurt yourself and someone else. That’s probably why you hate me.
            I suppose I should also apologize for my growing ego. Better it grew rather than let it fall apart and ruin Thomas, right? Then again, what do you care? I’m just a bumbling, arrogant prince who cares for no one but himself. Is that what you wanted to hear?
            I also miss you. When we were up on that stage and I had no clue you had taken Patton’s form, I had fun acting on stage and having, well, ‘you’ to direct me. It was fun and you seemed to like drama and theater. I had hoped we could work together again but now I’m scared I wouldn’t be able to tell when you’re acting and when you’re not. It’s a shame, really. After we were formally introduced, I thought we were friends. I wanted to be friends, believe me, but I’m scared. I don’t want you to lie to me again and make me believe you care. For Thomas’ sake I’m willing to be as civil as I can so we can work together but outside of that, I don’t think I’m ready to face you. Maybe in the future, we could talk but not right now. Not until I feel ready.
            I suppose I should end this letter now. If you’re still reading this, Janus, then thank you, I guess. Thank you for not trashing this letter. I mean, you can once you’re done reading if you want. You probably still don’t care. I’ll see you around the Mindpalace or something. Take care of Remus for me. He seems to like you more. I really wish we could’ve been friends. I hope you enjoy the rest of your Christmas evening. I mean, you won right? You beat the mighty prince and his massive ego. Congratulations. Merry Christmas, Janus.
Roman
           Janus stares at the letter, rereading it once more before putting it down on the desk with shaky hands. He rubs at his face, ignoring the fact that his cheeks were wet now. He leans back in his chair, hanging in his head guilt. God, Roman…what had he done? He just…the prince wanted to be friends…Janus licks his lips, the taste of salt and bitter grapes mixing. He stares at the letter sitting on his desk, regret and something heavy pooling in his gut. Janus hadn’t realized how much he’d hurt the prince has was supposed to protect.
He really should lay off of the wine…
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