#wait for the translations like the rest of us
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Okay I got some sleep- here’s pt. 2 of my nightmare:
——
They spoke to each other as they moved, the surroundings that had egregiously attacked the group of heroes earlier easily parted way for his sister.
‘How has everything been, habibi?’
They talked to each other in a language known only to them. The rest of the Justice League team, the members of this mission: Batman, Flash, Superman, and Zatanna did not understand the signs, a feat worthy of his sister.
‘Alright. They are not bad. I like it here.’ He told her, eyes not quite wary but fear of disappointing her running through his small frame apparent all the same. ‘I would… like to stay.’
She ruffled his hair once more, wistfulness growing in her heart. How her little brother had grown. It seemed like yesterday she held him as a babe, swaddled in even more opulent green and gold silks than her own clothing. Now, he stood in front of her, daring to express his own thoughts with a domino over his face and strength of free will in his eyes. ‘That is good. I am glad you are happy.’
Batman lurched forward to stop her from touching Damian, only to freeze as his son accepted the touch without a hint of resistance. Even Dick couldn’t get that reaction, not without some grumbling and scowling. Who was this…?
The rest of team agreed to wait and watch. Part of it was strategy. Most of it was the wonder of a such Bat-like Robin being so open with someone.
‘Have you been here before?’ Damian, relaxed as she all but gave him her blessing to stay with father, peered at the local fauna as it bowed away from her sister. She shrugged, his katana sheathed on her back. She was at ease with it as he was with her blade, the training they did to get there unwavering despite the time they spent apart.
‘Sometimes. The tower we’re headed to, I often go there to relieve stress by training with the monsters there. They like to… attack everything that moves.’
Something told Damian it was more of a one sided massacre on his sister’s part.
‘Why would the magician hide there?’
‘It would serve adequately as a natural barrier, should he have a safe space put there ahead of time.’ His sister tilted her head, masked face still in the way he knew meant that she was thinking. Her hands moved. ‘Perhaps it was Grorgiantue that attacked you. He often goes there to experiment with alchemy and demonic remains. He often wears a maroon headband.’
“That’s him.” Damian confirmed.
“Are you going to clue us into what you’re saying, you two?” The Flash zoomed around the pair, skidding to a stop in front of them. Damian’s sister simply stepped around him, slicing apart a thorn bush that attacked when it got startled by the Flash’s speed. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as Robin scowled at him and the unknown ally spared him one quick, neutral glance of displeasure.
“No. Do not ask again, you eavesdropper.” Damian curtly replied, surly Robin mask back up.
“Robin.” Father reprimanded. Damian acknowledged it, but did not offer an apology. His sister remained silent and watching.
She’s relying on him to navigate these allies, Damian realized. His shoulders went back at the show of trust. He does not acquiesce to Father’s silent command. Had it been Richard… perhaps.
“Ouch, but still, if your… friend knows what’s up ahead, it’s be good to let us know.”
“We do need to take care of this as fast as possible, Robin. And we’re not the best team against magic.” Superman hovered. He would have gone and scouted ahead, but magical planes always had nasty surprises that he found extremely hard to escape.
“Speak for yourself,” Zatanna joked. Regardless, she looked askance at Damian’s sister.
Damian scowled and opened his mouth. His sister placed a hand on his shoulder and Damian sighed, readying himself to act as a translator. He knew she could sign in practically every standard sign language there was, damn it. She’s lucky he loved her enough to be a translator when she’s unwilling to socialize.
——
“Your sword,” Damian tried to hand her sword back. Her little brother, for a genius, was an idiot. She huffed, pushing the sword back.
‘Keep it. How will you cut through a magical tower without a magical sword?’ She signed to him, emphasizing her amusement.
“What about you?”
‘I must report back. I am... a bit late. I’ll see you later, habibi.’ She tapped her hand four times. A reminder that she cared about him. Before she disappeared through a swirling portal of mist grey and acrid blue, she saw him repeat the sign.
Behind her mask, she smiled.
——
“Who was that, Robin?”
Robin stared up at Batman. Damian Wayne stared up at his father.
“She... protected me.”
Not quite an answer. But it was an olive branch, to tell him who she was to Damian himself, but not who she truly was in relations to Damian.
“That’s it?”
“That is all you’re getting.” He replied, hands tightening around the hilt of his sister’s sword. Her magic hummed beneath his fingertips, the feeling of indescribable violence softening to a sense of protectiveness the moment the sword felt his presence. Damian respected Father. He might even love him. But Damian loved his sister first, and he would not betray her trust.
A new file is added to the database. Nightwing gets an update. When a familiar masked face pops up, Dick Grayson sped out of Bludhaven to interrogate his littlest brother.
And so the wheels turned.
——
“Tell me, granddaughter, what it is you truly think of me.”
Despite the conversational tone, she knew it was an order. The scars on her back burned, a reminder of another rebellion and the cost of failure.
There were many, many ways she could answer. All of them unpleasant. Yet, she must be pleasant. He must hear how she’d been broken, or else he’d keep trying to break her.
She tilted her head down, so he would not glimpse the hatred brewing in her eyes.
“I respect you, grandfather.” Because she did respect his ability to bend her at his will, for all that she hated him. It took a special kind of scum to be so cruel to one own blood. “I wish to obey your every order.” Because if she didn’t, pain would follow. But that wish was a temporary one, only in effect until she managed to kill him and come out on top.
Ra’s laughed, a warm and rich sound. Hollow, because he loved none but himself and so only reserved warmth for his own flattery. It sounded like the sharpening of a blade and it felt like balancing on a precipice. On one side, an eternity of torture. On the other, the pain of those she loved. Damian... and maybe, just a little, Talia herself.
"Do you love me, granddaughter?" He crooned, mocking and cruel, in a way one might ask a jilted lover. The reincarnation held her breath and answered. She will not lie. She can not lie, not to him. He had gouged the order into her tongue with magic and brutality. And so, she will not lie.
"No, grandfather. But I do not dislike you." The reincarnation said, soft as velvet. It was true, because what she felt for Ra's al Ghul was the cold, pervasive hatred. "I respect you."
"I see I've managed to beat some of that foolish sentimentality out of you," he said, taking a sip of his wine. Oh, how she wished she could slip poison in his cup. How she wished to make him choke on his own words, his own blood. But she could not. Not. Yet. "Alas, I can not undo the magic. I suspect you'll be serving at my feet for... quite a long time more."
She snapped her mouth closed, phantom rage hovering between her teeth. The world swirled around her, greens and purples, and the revolting touch of his hands on her.
No, she will bide her time.
She knelt, the motion familiar, on plush carpet that she could not appreciate. Luxurious cloth rustled in front of her.
And when her time comes, she will revel in Ra's al Ghul's agonizing death.
——
"Damian, you have to tell me who that is!"
Damian could be stubborn at times, he knew that. He worked with him on it. Damian was as much, if not more, Dick's Robin as he was Bruce's Robin. So why...?
"And for what reason do you wish to know her identity, Richard?"
Dick paused. He couldn't. He couldn't tell him. No one knew, except for that masked person. It happened so long ago- not long enough- and Dick could not wash the taint, could not wash the trauma from his brain, his heart. Whispers that sounded like Catalina surrounded him when he thought of that rainy night, telling him how disgusted his family would be, if they knew. Those things went away, now that he's pulled up the file on the batcomputer. The whispers fade a bit as he looked upon the masked face of the person who saved him. Just in time.
"For your safety!"
Damian crossed his arms, a look that spoke of an unbending unwillingness present in his eyes. Dick knew then that Damian would not tell him. "I will never be in danger if it's her on the other side of the blade."
"Come on, Damian, I won't tell B. Promise. Don't you trust me?"
Damian's face softened, and for a second, Dick had thought that he'd managed it. "I do... trust you." Damian struggled to say. "That is hardly ever in question, you imbecile. But to tell you would mean betrayal. And I will not betray her trust. Especially not for your personal satisfaction."
Dick wondered what this masked woman did for Damian to be unhesitatingly confident in her. He wondered if his own desperation meant something he had yet been able to put into words.
"For what it's worth, Dick, I think we should trust Damian and not pry."
Dick and Damian turned to Tim in surprise. Damian, because it was an unexpected vote of confidence.
"Woah, I do not want to hear that from you, Mr. Tiny Tot Stalker McGee."
"It's called preparation!" Tim said hotly back. Then, he subsided. "She, uh, saved me once. Back then, before I was... associated with Bruce."
"What?" Dick and Damian demanded.
——
Innocuous. The worst and best things always happened on innocuous days.
The beginning of her slavery began on a regular, if painful, sunny day.
The beginning of her freedom began on a regular, if painful, cloudy one.
She'd have to thank the little photographer later, she decided. His work all but forced her grandfather to rely on a handful of backup Lazarus pools only he, mother, and herself knew about. She stared at the green pools as her grandfather stripped to his waist to step in.
"Guard me," he commanded her as he stepped towards the pool. The sting of the command settled familiarly around her neck. “Once I am done, you will depart to force Damian or the detective back to Nanda Parbat. By any means necessary.”
It was his first time ordering her to hurt her brothers, past physical pain disguised as training.
His first mistake today.
That's the thing with her grandfather, she mused as she silently unsheathed Damian's sword. He was so complacent, that he could fathom her betrayal.
His second mistake. His last mistake.
Then again, it was her who lulled him into it, with the shows of loyalty and seemingly willing obedience outside of her magical collar's commands.
After all, he had commanded her to guard him. From outside threats, surely, but he hadn't commanded her to guard him from herself.
"You-!" He coughed as her- Damian's- blade slid in between his ribs and straight towards the other side. It missed his heart by a hair's breadth, Ra's having moved the moment he felt the blade. Truly, it was hard to beat a near-immortal's experience.
"Kill yourself!" He barked at her, clutching at his chest, trying to stumble towards the pool.
To kill herself, she had to remove the blade lodged in his chest. The magic urged her to follow his commands immediately with searing pain. But she's had over two decades to endure and adjust to it, to grit her teeth and learn how to move with the torture of being alive. So she follows it just to dislodge the blade. The reincarnation then, with the magic trying to break her, cripples Ra’s with two blows.
He collapsed, screaming bloody murder and slurs at her. Before he could say another command, she stabbed down and to the side, cutting deep enough to cut his voice box and spill his life-blood, his unceasingly irritating throat, over the craggy rocks surrounding the pool.
Then, she slit her throat with a cut that was a touch too shallow to kill her right away.
"I do not dislike you," she said, the pain easing as she spoke to him. The red she's taken from others now spilled on the front of her shirt. She stared at his enraged glare, vicious glee at making him choke on his own actions. "No, I hate you."
She bent down, twisting and breaking his arms with little effort. She patted his cheeks and raked a trail of pain down his face with her metal tipped gloves. Her blood dripped onto him, blinding his eyes.
Fitting, she'd thought. "No one will come for you, grandfather. But... I do have to ask," She looked down, voice tilting in the cruel way that he'd unintentionally taught her. "Don't you love me, grandfather?"
She walked backwards until she reached the edge of the pool. She knelt once more, a mockery of every time she's knelt for him.
The reincarnation watched his blood spill, the light leave his eyes, and the way his body stilled and the way his rage was stifled like he'd smothered her voice so long ago. She memorized it, because hate was an active emotion. But she was tired, and she wanted to rest. So she watched him die and felt nothing but peace.
Then, as she felt the magic take hold and tear her soul from her body, she tipped backwards and plunged her corpse in the glowing pits that awaited her.
——
It felt like drowning.
(did y’all know cats lay on your chest?? bro i straight up couldn’t breath bc of that)
Breathless. Corrosive. Freeing.
The Pit felt like freedom.
And she’d long forgotten what that felt like.
It tasted like shit water though, and suddenly she felt bad for everyone whoever swallowed some of the water here. She’s going to need her stomach pumped out after this-
Her thoughts were washed away in a haze of green tinted fury.
——
“Habibi.”
Nightwing slid in front of Robin with a well practiced flip. Batman emerged from the shadows, followed Spoiler and Red Robin.
“Talia. What do you want?” Batman growled. Talia ignored him, an uncharacteristic action that had the vigilantes putting their guards up.
“I… you know I would not ask this of you- I would not ask you to return,” Talia said softly.
“Then don’t.” Red Robin cut in sharply, bo staff at the ready. Talia ignored him too.
“But she needs you, habibi. I can not… I can not help her.”
“Who?” Spoiler asked, curious but ready to rumble.
“What happened?” Robin stepped around Nightwing, who made an aborted movement to try to pull Robin back behind him.
“Something terrible.” Talia al Ghul closed her eyes, a sliver of vulnerability and regret showing on her face. Robin straightened, fear thudding through his heart. What happened to ukhti, he wanted to ask. But he could not, not without betraying the promise of silence he’d made to her. “I… I have failed her greatly. And she was paying the price for it, this entire time.”
“Wait, is this about the masked woman?” Nightwing asked.
“Alright,” Robin- no, Damian- stepped forward once more. His decision was made. Had been made, the moment his mother allowed the rare instance of vulnerability to come across her face. “I’ll be going back, once…”
“Of course. She would not let me keep you, habibi. She knows you are happier here.”
“Then, let’s go.”
“Robin!” His family tried to stop him but Damian slipped between and out of their reach. “Do not!”
“I’ll be back,” he declared, like he was daring his mother to say otherwise. “Try not to raze Gotham into the ground with your incompetence.”
“I’ll kill Ra’s if something happens to him.” Red Robin pointed the bo staff at Talia as she and Damian turned to leave. He stopped an alarmed Batman when he tried to lunge for Robin.
“No need,” she threw back. Damian whipped his head up at that. “He’s already dead.”
And they disappeared into a whirling purple cloud of magic.
——
Snippets of reality return to her bit, by bit. Her mother had cautiously entered the pit with her guards- worried, no doubt, by their absence- and stilled upon seeing her father’s dead body.
She laughed, and dug her hands into the bodies of the assassins she’d trained until her nails dripped with blood and pieces of organs. She felled them, one by one, until only mother was left.
She’d attacked, like a rabid dog, until the green slipped and her mother came into focus.
“I killed him,” she’d croaked out. And that was what broke her; the smooth way air wrapped her around her throat where only ripping pain had existed. Her voice came out unhindered and recklessly so, without the tinge of agony carefully picking her sentences.
“I killed him,” she repeated, and set Ra’s al Ghul’s body on fire. “I killed him.”
Her mother stared at her, hands dropping carefully to her side. “Why?”
She smiled, teeth bared and bloody- oh, she must have ripped into an assassin with her teeth, how messy- and endlessly joyful. “Because he dared to chain me- because he threatened Damian.”
She broke, and she told her mother everything. No, not everything. Just, enough. At the end, when her back is bowed with pain and heart empty, her mother knelt before her and quietly, tremblingly, apologized.
“I am sorry, habibi. I…”
The reincarnation’s made a small, wounded noise and lost herself to the green.
——
Damian trembled with rage. With grief.
With regret.
He followed mother into the caverns, mind turning and whirling with everything he’d learned in the hour that had passed since he’d left Gotham. His sister’s inclination towards magic was incredibly helpful, but Damian wished that she had never had the cause to go delving into magic like she did.
He thought it was passion.
His mother had informed him of what Grandfather had done to his ukht all these years. She told him of what his sister had sacrificed so that he remained free.
“Every time she spoke to us, to tell us that she loves us… father had made sure she paid for every word with unceasing agony.” His mother had muttered, eyes more lost than he’d ever seen it. “The magic at her neck ensured that she obeyed unquestioningly or she paid the price.”
“She is paying the price right now,” he’d snapped at her.
“Yes.”
Damian had thought ukhti’s collection of magical tomes were a sign of her interests. He thought it was passion for a subject. He had even envied how she did not have to hide her hobby like he had to with his art.
Now, he knew it wasn’t passion. No, it was desperation; a scrambling for freedom, a wish for dignity, and the fear of the same restrictions being placed on his ukht’s loved ones- him and mother.
When he entered the cave, lit up by swirling, sickly green, he saw his ukht, drenched in blood and sclera, tearing apart another group of assassins. There were ashes and the smell of burnt flesh around them.
Her eyes- green, glazed, furious- turned towards them.
His mother tensed. His ukht lunged, pitted sword aimed at his eyeball.
But if there was anything Damian knew, it was that ukhti would never hurt him.
So he stayed still.
And she stopped. Blade a centimeter from his eyes, his sister stopped.
“Damian?”
How his heart broke when she spoke, confusion in her voice that sounded as if she had been screaming for decades and nobody had heard.
As Damian’s hand wrapped around her wrist and she dropped the sword, he morbidly thought that she might have been doing that. It’s not like they heard her, after all, not until she’d freed herself with broken fingers and steel spine.
——
Bruce paced around in the cave. With the disappearance of their youngest, the entire family gathered in the cave, the night after. Except for Barbara, who had been scouring the cameras and had prior engagements, and Cass, who was on a plane back from Hong Kong, the family watched as Bruce slowly lost his mind.
“Relax, B. Look, even Dickface and Timbers aren’t worried, and you know how they get.” Jason said, kicking his feet up on the table.
“Ahem.”
Jason quickly put his feet down.
“We know nothing about this woman! She could be a danger- she could-!”
“B, if it really is about the masked woman, I think we should give Damian some trust.” Dick spoke up.
“And what if they keep Damian captive?”
“Then we go get him, Bruce. Simple.” Duke said, yawning.
Whatever Bruce would have said next was cut off by the opening of the cave’s underground entrance, with an approving beep of a recognized and authorized entrance.
Damian stalked in, hands wrapping around the hilt of his sword like he was going to cut through the next fool who tested him. His face was in a frown.
“Damian. Are you alright?” Bruce rushed towards his youngest, only to be dodged.
“I need to break something. Then, we shall talk.”
Damian headed towards the training dummies at let out his fury. He let out his heart break. Splinters of wood and cloth and ripped padding laid testament to his grief.
Then, the younger brother of the true heir to the Demon’s Head turned around to speak to his chosen family.
——
Clarity.
Her brother, her fool, dumb brother who had just stood there as she tried to gouge his eyes out, had been exactly what she needed.
She avoided his concerned eyes as she muttered calculations under her breath.
“Ukhti, what are you doing?”
“Freedom, habibi. I am… creating my freedom.”
At his confused look, she made the signs for Pit Rage. He nodded and guarded her back.
Damian was so adorable. And now, now that there’s not collar around her neck, she could say that without awaiting internal agony!
Her mouth spoke the words she’d found all those years ago, magic flaring bright white and blue as the circle she laid down on crumbling rocks shuddered.
The magic soothed her frayed mind and seeped the poison from her mind.
——
“I have a sister.” He’d told them. He turned to his father, who had a blank look on his face. “An older sister. She is yours.”
“You fucked Talia, twice?!”
A scowl. “Keep your trap shut, Todd.”
Bruce felt his world shudder to a stop.
——
Her fingers, her left hand as her right was busy scratching absently at Damian’s head, found purchase on her back and neck. The skin wasn’t so soft anymore, time and scars making for a rougher feel.
There were worse things than death. Bitter, painful things.
Loosing her freedom. Loosing her voice.
But… there were better things than life. Sweet, gentle things.
Regaining her freedom. Getting revenge. Securing her family’s safety and freedom from the grotesque thing that wore the skin of a grandfather.
Her brother, tucked safely against her side, and a mother that finally understood.
“Come to Gotham with me,” Damian had suggested. She hummed, delighting in the way the sound came out with out the ringing pain.
But one does not erase two plus decades worth of trauma in one night.
Her hands came up.
‘Not yet. Mother will think-”
“It is a good idea.”
Her gaze darted up. Her mother’s eyes… softened. Odd. No… her gaze was heavy with guilt.
“It would… do you good to be away from here, my daughter.”
Well.
It’s not like she was opposed to that, at all, but still…
‘Two weeks. I’ll tie up loose ends… and I’ll go to Gotham in two weeks, if that’s alright with you, Damian?’
“Of course.” He leaned against her, hand clutching at her shirt in a motion that she wasn’t sure was meant to comfort himself or her. “May I tell father about you?”
Ah. She hadn’t thought of that. The pit really scattered her mind. She nodded.
——
“Why… why didn’t you tell me?”
“She asked me not to.”
“And since when did you do things people ask of you, demon brat?”
Damian scowled. It did not make his next sentence any less genuine.
“Since it was ukhti that asked.”
Tim spun around on his wheel chair. “Holy shit. So the masked person was your sister. No wonder you were so….”
Protective, they all finished the rest of the sentence silently. They all sat back to contemplate that Bruce had one more kid… and that Tim had met her before Damian was even born.
“So, why were you so upset, baby bird?” Dick asked, an odd feeling of both gratefulness and mild jealousy towards Damian’s sister- his savior, because holy shit- gathering underneath his heart.
“Apparently, grandfather put her under an enslavement spell all these years.”
“Damian… say that again. I- I must have heard you wrong.”
Damian closed his eyes, hating how unsteady and fearful his father sounded. He obliged, because he knew what it felt like.
“Grandfather put her under an enslavement spell and used her to further the League’s reach.”
Damian had wondered why he had encountered his sister so often while passing by grandfather’s chambers and why she always looked tired when she goes past those ornate doors.
Now he knew.
“Does that- does that mean what I think it means?”
“Yes. She,” Damian’s hands gripped harshly on his forearms. He breathed in and out slowly. “She was… assaulted. Most likely regularly. To broker more favorable agreements. She could not refuse. The magic demanded complete obedience or risk the punishment of unbearable pain.”
Dick looked away. They had a lot in common. She saved him… but on her end, she was not saved. His hands itched to punch Ra’s al Ghul in the face.
“Fuck.” Stephanie cursed. Her eyes met Duke’s and Jason’s.
Tim’s hands stopped moving, eyes staring blankly at Damian. He should have tried harder to kill Ra’s al Ghul.
Bruce got up, trembling, and stalked over to the training dummy. They sat in silence.
“What else?” Bruce rasped. He hung his head.
“She was ordered not to speak a word.”
“But she… spoke to me.” Tim said. Damian felt an irrational flare of jealousy.
“Then it most likely caused her unimaginable pain as punishment.” Damian snapped.
“What do we have to do to free her?” Stephanie demanded.
“Nothing, Brown. She freed herself.”
“How?” Duke leaned in, expression serious. “Did Ra’s al Ghul free her before he died or something?”
“I… am not too sure of the details, but it involved killing him… and jumping into the pit.”
Jason stood up with a clatter. “She was in the pit?!
“Yes. I think… she might have died. I’m not… sure.”
Bruce closed his eyes, working on his breathing like Dinah had showed him.
“Is that why Talia came? Because you could stop her pit madness?”
“Yes. I- there-” Damian struggled to get the words out, the ball of upset sitting on his chest made it hard to breathe. “Ukhti would never hurt me. Unless it’s training, but even then, I am sure she fought against her orders to wound me.”
Dick nodded. Yeah. He would have too, if he were in her shoes.
“I… can ukhti come here to recover?”
“Of course. When?” It was at times like this when he appreciated his family’s sentimentality and ridiculously large hearts. Unhesitatingly kind, even when they should have been furious at him for keeping ukhti’s secrets.
“Two weeks.”
“Then we shall make adequate- no, better than adequate preparations. Master Damian, what were her preferences for food?”
——
She should probably prepare a gift. Multiple.
“Ukht.”
She tilted her head to show Damian she was listening.
“I am sorry.”
‘There’s nothing to be sorry for.’
“But-”
She squeezed his shoulder and forced the words to come out. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I should have noticed.”
‘I did not want you to notice. If I hid things from you, do you think you could find them so easily?’
“No, I suppose not.”
She smiled at him and tapped her hand four times. He tapped his own four times in response.
——
The dream ended there, well, no, there was actually some more nonsense about a corgi, a room full of strings and slenderman or whatever but I didn’t include that part. There’ll probably be a part three bc I kinda wanna know what happens when she comes to Gotham to recover from trauma.
The oc, relatively well adjusted: *dies*
The oc, reincarnated and got fucked over (figuratively and non consensually literally): “yes, I should go to Gotham (aka trauma central) to recover from my trauma. Sounds legit.”
#Dick Grayson#dick grayson and his gatekeeper gaslight girl boss self#oc in dc#batman#damian wayne’s older sister#damian wayne#Tim Drake#Jason Todd#talia al ghul#ra’s al ghul#ra’s al ghul and the consequences of his actions#tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon
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Divine Violence: Part Two
Summary: Prophecy was a dangerous thing. “The one akin to you, will be your downfall.” Daemon could only think of one. His nephew, Aemond. He had not even considered another. Viserra. His niece. While unlike him in physical skill and prowess, she was more than Daemon’s mirror in temperament. The twins, married in the ways of Valyria, and a force that Daemon soon would reckon with.
TW: She/Her Pronouns, use of OC (Viserra Targaryen), mentions of character deaths, canon-typical incest/twincest, mentions of child death, descriptions of sex (not full smut).
Words: 1,769
Valyrian translations at the bottom of the post.
And AGAIN, thank you @legitalicat for being my lovely beta!
Sex and Vengeance
She felt sick. Stomach twisting into knots over and over. Jaehaerys dying was one thing, but to know Daemon had been the one behind the act was another. Viserra could not bear to tell Aegon herself, sending word through Ser Criston and Larys Strong instead. What she felt was nothing compared to what Aegon would feel, she knew that, but she could not bring herself to see the emotions when they raged through him.
Aemond, however, knew something was wrong the moment she entered their chambers.
“Ābrazyrys?” Aemond asked, the moment she shut the door, just one word enough to convey his concern.
He was a man of few words, in even Viserra, but he was perceptive. From the way her brow remained furrowed, and her hands clenched and relaxed. Aemond knew she had been down to the cells, something he had not hesitated to berate Aegon for allowing. Not that Aemond believed she would be unsafe, but he knew whatever she heard would shake her to her core.
When she did not answer, he walked over, setting down his book with little ceremony. His focus now was Viserra, hands on her arms to keep her in front of him.
“Tell me.”
Only then did she look at him, concern evident in the way he stared and the thin set of his lips. But it was as though she could not form words. Nothing would be enough to convey what she felt.
“Daemon.” Was all she could manage. But it was enough.
Aemond could piece together the rest and Viserra could feel the subtle tightening of his grip as he held back his own anger. His rage could wait. Revenge would be had, one way or another. But he had to focus on her now.
“It was Daemon…” She repeated, as if finally coming to terms with the situation.
Aemond remained silent, words were not what Viserra needed right now. He knew her as well as himself, like she was an extension of his own body and soul. He led her gently to the couch by the fire, where he had been reading when she entered. Silently, he sat down and coaxed her into his lap.
He could almost hear her mind whirring, processing everything that had happened. Not only today, but in the last few weeks. Lucerys, dead. Jaehaerys, dead. Helaena catatonic and Aegon sick with rage. Their mother and grandsire doing the best to hold the family together. Her only solace was Aemond now, the only one who could keep her sane.
His hands rested on her back, pulling her closer and urging her to curl her body into his. She was quick to relent, her head buried in his neck as she finally let herself process it all. Tears soaked the fabric of his shirt, but Aemond cared little. Viserra needed it. He needed it, his own eye stinging with tears he still would not shed. His hands firm as he rubbed up and down her back, slowly but surely calming the heaving of her breath as she sobbed.
“We have to do something.” Viserra mumbled, or at least that is what Aemond thought she said.
He leaned back and tilted her body to look at her, his finger under her chin. One brow raised which told her to repeat herself.
“We need to do something.” She said again, this time far more forceful.
Aemond knew where she was headed. Revenge. The same thing he wanted, that Aegon wanted. That their family wanted. But the way she asked, the look in her eyes. She meant the two of them. Not the family.
Them.
“We?” Aemond asked, his thumb stroking over the curve of her chin.
“What shall we do, my love?” he asked, his thumb now tugging down gently on the flesh of her lip.
Viserra paused, distracted by not only his proximity, but the warmth of his hand and the way he stared. What did she want? Revenge, yes. But how? It was not as though they could demand Daemon be brought to them, that would never work.
They needed to be clever about this.
Aemond took advantage of her silence and began to pepper kisses over her neck and jaw. For the two of them, there was never a wrong moment for intimacy. Nothing ever stood in the way of their respective appetites.
“What would my sweet idaña do in her vengeance?” Aemond muttered between kisses, knowing his voice and touch was enough to not only relax her, but entice her.
The sigh Viserra let out was enough to tell him it was working. The way she leaned into him, silently asking for more contact.
“We cannot demand Daemon come stand for his deeds…” Viserra said softly, doing her best to concentrate as Aemond moved down her jaw to her neck.
All she received in response was a hum of approval. Politics and strategy were his game, not hers. She preferred the more, secretive arts. Using the smallest morsel of information against another where she could, an art she had perfected by now. Aemond focused solely on distracting her, letting her relax and think things through.
With practised hands, he maneuvered her to straddle his lap, hands squeezing her thighs when she did not continue talking.
“Word says he is in Harrenhal, laying claim to the stronghold for Rhaenyra’s cause,”
Aemond nodded as he nipped at her neck, hands continuing to knead the flesh of her thighs as he bunched her skirts higher. All of this was the obvious part, to him anyway. But he needed Viserra to work things through. She needed to work things through.
“Harrenhal would be a prize and more for our cause, would it not, brother?” Viserra pulled herself away to force his answer.
“A prize, yes, but how would we take it?” Aemond countered and Viserra narrowed her eyes at him, earning her a smirk in response as he resumed his attack on her skin.
“Our uncle is arrogant, but he will expect retaliation. He would expect Aegon to send an army at least,” Viserra replied as her hands tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to have him biting a little harder at her neck.
“So, we do not send an army.”
Aemond had to admit, he had not expected such coherence in her plan. Not because he doubted her intelligence, Viserra was more than she seemed. But because he had expected to be filled with a rage that would near burn her from the inside, not be calculated and planned in her vengeance so soon. His smirk could be felt against her neck, telling her she was right.
“I do listen when you prattle on about strategy, you know, my darling,” Viserra purred, tugging him away from her neck and bringing his lips to hers.
“Jāhor ao gūrogon vengeance rūsīr issa?”
Aemond near growled in response, even more so to the High Valyrian. Ever since Storm’s End, he had kept vengeance in his mind and heart. The death of Jaehaerys had only made that need greater. Now, having Viserra has desperate for it as he was, he would leave tonight and burn Harrenhal to the ground if she asked.
"Va moriot.” Was the last word from Aemond’s lips before he had his lips on hers, near throwing her down onto the couch below in his haste.
Some men found lust and desire by softer means, like the flirtation or tender touch of their lady. Aemond, however, found it in the darkness that lived in his sweet sister. That fire that never failed to have both his heart and cock demanding her. And Viserra was always willing.
Aemond’s hands slid under her skirts, making quick work of her smallclothes before slipping his fingers deftly between her folds. It seemed talking about vengeance atop him had been enough to get his precious wife excited. But Viserra was not here for his teasing this time.
“Do not tease tonight, valzȳrys,” Viserra hissed down at him and Aemond chuckled but relented. He knew better than to argue.
He made quick work of his preparations, fingertips spreading her slick over her skin as his other hand made quick work of his own breeches. Tonight, would not be a night for soft caresses and slow sensuality. But Aemond remained gentle as he entered her, as he always was, earning him a moan from Viserra to match his own growl of satisfaction.
His movements were gentle but hurried, pushing inside her until he could move no further. Hands pinning hers above her head as he began to rut into her, lips kissing whatever skin he could.
There was no softness and romance, the two of them pouring all emotion they had into this one act. Aemond’s thrusts brutal as he kissed and nipped any skin he could. Viserra’s nails digging into the hand that held her wrists while her legs wrapped tight around his waist.
Soon, release found them both. Nothing but grunts and growls from Aemond mixed with the soft chants of his name from Viserra. Slowly, he stilled, gently settling his weight atop her as he released her hands.
“I will give you, and our family, the vengeance we deserve, my sweet sister…”
Alys had been summoned to Daemon’s chambers, which surprised her. The prince never asked for her presence since she had given him her last vision. He had all but avoided her. But he had been given word that she had done nothing but stare into her flames for the last three days.
The three days that had past since word had reached him of the success of Blood and Cheese, and rumours had circled she had seen another vision.
“You called, my prince?” Alys asked, standing close to the door as Daemon turned to acknowledge her.
He nodded, gesturing for Alys to come closer.
“The servants said you have been at the flames? Is this true?” Daemon asked, sounding sceptical as usual.
Alys knew this was coming, despite how he would mock her abilities, he still sought them out.
“I have, do you wish to know what I saw?”
Daemon knew to take the witch’s words with a grain of salt. Never outrightly believe what she said, but he needed to know. And what Alys had seen, would change everything. The question was, how much would she reveal?
Alys began to explain, in her usual frustratingly ambiguous way, her vision. The sudden rush of sight that had hit her hard as she had stared into the flames. Slips of silver hair. The quick flashes of blood, flame, and battle.
A decision made.
Vengeance would be taken.
Valzȳrys = husband
Idaña = twin
Ābrazyrys = wife
“Jāhor ao gūrogon vengeance rūsīr issa?” = "Will you take vengeance with me?"
"Va moriot." = "Always."
a/n I do use a translator so the High Valyrian won't be perfect!
And comment or dm if you want to be tagged!
Taglist:
@multyfangirl @khaleesihel @lady-phasma @blissfulphilospher @vhagar-balerion-meraxes
#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#oc!viserra targaryen#aemond x oc#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen x oc#alys rivers
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I feel like I need to show that I am not only writing psychopaths and can also write normal, protective characters lmao
I will share 2 of my private novels with you, translated. The names are shortened so that I don't expose them, because I kinda want to keep them private for the future hehe (probably forgot a few places but oh well)
I will show the mood board for the story and a profile I've made for the characters to help you visualize them better (helps me when writing too haha)
Story 1
"Do you want to go out? You haven't been out much, have you?”
HG shook his head. Fresh air could do him good, he thought, but he knew he shouldn't go out alone. If BN was there, it would probably be okay. BN patted his skinny knee twice.
"Good, then we're going out," he decided and stood up. "Wait here. Do you need your cane, do you think?”
“No, I have the IV stand.”
Without answering anything, BN disappeared into the hall, first up the stairs, then down and then away in the narrow corridor to the kitchen and dining room. HG sat in silence, waiting for him to return, which he did five minutes later, wearing his brown coat and HG's beige jacket hanging over his arm. He gestured with his hand for HG to stand up.
"Come on then," he said.
HG pulled himself up from his chair and followed BN out into the hall. BN slung HG'S jacket over his shoulders and frowned at the hose dangling from HG'S left hand. HG pulled his right arm into the sleeve and let his other arm hang free.
“This works,” he said.
"Don't you think you're going to get cold?" BN wondered.
HG shook his head. BN opened one of the double doors, holding it open so HG could get out with his IV stand. The small wheels got stuck in the uneven planks of the porch. Frustrated, HG pried them free and sighed heavily.
"If it sticks here, it'll stick everywhere," HG muttered, biting his lower lip in frustration.
“Should I carry it for you?” BN wondered.
“No, I got it.” HG took another hold and carried it down the stone porch steps. He groaned as he put his feet down on the gravel yard. Anything but hard wood floors were foreign to him. Hesitantly, he took a few tentative steps forward. HG looked away towards the lake and the dark forest.
“Can we go there?” he asked, pointing away towards the fir trees. “Into the woods?”
"Sure," BN replied. “Has it been a long time since you were in a forest?”
HG nodded and swallowed a sad sigh. He had loved to climb trees, had known how to place his feet so as not to fall. It was just that day…
He let BN guide him past the eye-like lake. The reeds near the edges stretched up to the sky.
The ground inside the forest was wet. What HG'S IV stand didn't get stuck on, he tripped over himself. BN took a firm grip on HG'S right arm, not hard enough to hurt him, but a grip strong enough to catch him in case he fell. Few red, yellow and green leaves hung desperately on their branches, as if they knew they would soon be killed and replaced by spring. The sunlight did not reach down to the ground
"I used to see the woods from my bedroom window," said HG, letting his eyes take in the sights around him. "I saw the seasons change from a distance ... it's another thing to see it up close."
“Quite beautiful.”
HG nodded in agreement. There was something youthful about the forest in autumn.
"I have an idea where we can go," BN suggested, nodding towards the fir trees. “I saw a clearing not far from here.”
“Is it within the territory?”
"I didn't see a fence, anyway."
HG couldn't help laughing. "Adequate. Come on, lead the way, then.”
BN took him to an open field where no man had sown, but where there was still tall, yellow grass. The sun beamed down on them. HG squinted up at the sky. BN took off his brown coat and spread it out on the grass. He gestured for HG to sit down. They disappeared into the grass, the only thing still visible was the stand rising above.
"Nice fresh air," BN sighed, resting his head back. He rolled his eyes. “I needed it after that card game. [other character] does not play nice, I can tell you that.”
"Or you're not good enough," said HG teasingly.
BN opened one of his brown eyes and squinted at him with a crooked smile. “I'm fucking phenomenal at card games, how dare you? You and I will play some day and I will teach you not to underestimate me.”
“You must have had a lot of training on the ice anyway. Did you play a lot of card games at home? With your friends?”
BN fell silent. He sat up and hid his hands in his pockets. HG frowned.
"What?" he asked confused. "What is it?"
"I had a card game, but we didn't play very often," BN muttered, squirming, as if trying to get out of his own skin. His voice sounded quieter, almost sad. "That's not what we ... we did."
"'We'?"
BN sighed, seemed to be searching for the right words. His eyes remained downcast. “I'm so glad I came here, HG. And that I got to meet you and the others. You are so different from my friends back in town.”
He brought out his trembling hands. HG remembered how they had been covered in scabs and wounds the first time he had shaken hands with BN. The wounds had healed by now, but the marks of violence still remained.
"I didn't want to tell you, I'm ashamed."
He fell silent again. HG said nothing, not wanting to disturb his thoughts.
"At home, in town, I wasn't very nice," BN continued, shaking his head in despair. “I got into a lot of fights. I didn't know what to do … I didn't want to continue … so I came here.”
HG suddenly felt a pair of strong arms around him, and a warm cheek against his shoulder. He tilted his head towards BN'S and glanced down at his hands.
"Why didn't you want to tell me earlier?" HG wondered.
"I didn't mean to scare you away," BN replied quietly. “I thought you'd be uncomfortable if you knew. You don't like violence.”
“No, I don't, but you don't have to worry about that. That's just stupid.”
BN let go of him and hugged his legs. He smiled sheepishly.
"It feels better now," he laughed briefly. “When I get home, I will stop being with them. I know how I want to be now. With you I can only ... sit. We don't have to do anything. We can just sit and talk. I like it."
HG smiled weakly. He'd never thought he'd have a friend—not someone like BN, anyway. The fear of losing him haunted HG every time he was alone.
BN took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, fished out a narrow cylinder.
"You really should stop that," said HG.
"I have!" BN smiled proudly and shrugged. "In almost all cases. I barely smoke anymore, but I need to calm my nerves after this.”
He lit the cigarette and brought it to his lips, drew in a breath and blew out gray, foul-smelling smoke. HG waved his hand in front of them, trying desperately to part the smoke. BN took a sandwich wrapped in a paper out of his pocket and held it out to HG.
“Here,” he said. “I brought it to you.”
“Is this some kind of bribery?” HG grinned weakly and accepted the sandwich, unfolding the paper carefully. "So that I won't complain about your smoke?"
"No, because you haven't eaten anything today."
Story 2
They showed their tickets and identification papers to a man dressed in a black suit who studied the papers carefully. Finally he nodded and stepped aside. OL pushed GS forward first, and then TN.
"Don't push me, I can walk myself," she grumbled.
The compartment had about twenty hard, dirty wooden benches in a row, divided into four-seaters. OL frowned at the stench that had spread, despite half the windows being open. The train began to shake and OL had to grab the wall to keep from falling forward. They made their way through the center aisle until they found an empty bench. It was only built for two, so OL lifted GS onto her lap and wrapped her arms tightly around her slim waist. The nine-year-old amused herself by leaning his head out of the window and feeling the wind in his hair. She laughed and turned her twinkling eyes on OL before popping her head out the window again.
OL turned to TN who looked up from her lap doubtfully. She twirled a lock of hair between her fingers.
"What is it?" OL asked, leaning closer. "Are you okay?"
"Why is everyone staring?" TN whispered so quietly that OL doubted she had said anything. “Did I do something?”
OL bit down and let her eyes wander over the compartment. She was filled with that incomprehensible feeling again. The men in the compartment were like animals, like the magister. They shared the same dark, burning gaze that seemed to shamelessly burn away her clothes. TN didn't understand yet, she didn't understand how beautiful she really was and OL didn't want to tell her.
OL gesticulates for GS to jump to the floor and quickly switched places with TN, shoving her towards the window.
"But I want to look!" GS complained.
"You can still look," reminded OL. "By the way, maybe you shouldn't hang out the window, it could be dangerous."
TN gave her a small, grateful smile which OL returned warmly. She turned her gaze towards the center aisle and glared at those who dared to glance in their direction.
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twenty questions for fic writers
thanks to @cricketnationrise @happiness-of-the-pursuit @kiwiana-writes
@ninzied @captainjunglegym for the tags friends! it's been a while since I've last done one of these so I figured I would participate again! xx
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how many works do you have on ao3?
56! (technically 60 though… 😏🤫)
what's your total ao3 word count?
1,248,687
what fandoms do you write for?
RWRB (currently) [ 1D and teen wolf (past) ]
top five fics by kudos:
but if you could see us from a distance you'd know I've always been so close to you - the og sex curse one shot
Something Borrowed, Something Blue - enemies to lovers at june's wedding
I'll bet it all on me and you, I'll bet it all you're bulletproof - coworkers trivia fluff
praying our bridges don't make waves - soulmates with a twist
kiss me like you've got nowhere to be - roommates to lovers fluff
do you respond to comments?
nowhere near as much as I'd like to! my capacity for social interaction lately has been... lacking, to the say the least ksjhdkshd BUT I SEE AND READ THEM ALL AND I HOLD THEM SO CLOSE <3333
what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
ooh I can't usually do angsty endings so I'm carving my own loophole here -- the first two fics in the sex curse series are definitely my most angsty endings before they work their shit out in the third skjdhsjkhd
what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
most of mine do, but I'd say that overall the most fluffy ones are in the firstprince first kisses series!
do you get hate on fics?
I most definitely did in my old fandom but people have been generally very kind and supportive to me here so far! :')
do you write smut?
yes!
craziest crossover:
my george x firstprince hurt/comfort is very special to me <3
(but I also have a Jeff from bottoms x Shane from minx au in the docs so ksjhdhfjh that too)
have you ever had a fic stolen?
I hope not!
have you ever had a fic translated?
not in this fandom! but I have had some lovely folks record some podfics of my works! (here and here!)
have you ever co-written a fic before?
not for rwrb! (yet???? ksjhdkjhfkjh)
all time favorite ship?
I gotta go with fp! they got me like that niall horan ear crawling gif fr I'll never be the same
what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
oh gosh I'm not sure. I HOPE I finish them all but I also have an obscene amount so ksjhdksjdhf not crossing anything off yet!
what are your writing strengths?
I think dialogue? it's always the part of my fics that I write first, and then I build the rest of the story around it. I hope it's a solid foundation!
what are your writing weaknesses?
there's a fine line between explaining and over-explaining and I think sometimes I fall into the second category skjdhkjhf. I love some introspection as much as the next guy but I'm working on only including details that feel most pertinent to the story.
thoughts on dialogue in another language?
I love it! I think it can be so special and can be another way to connect readers with the characters and the story. I took Spanish all four years of high school so I'm a little rusty now, and studied French for a while a few years ago and just picked it back up recently! my translations aren't always perfect but luckily I've had some very kind people to check or point these things out for me :)
first fandom you wrote in?
..... hollywood heights sjkhdjkhgdfh
favorite fic you've written?
oh no. I am so bad at perceiving myself ksjhdjkdjfhg. I think each of my fics definitely served a purpose for me while writing them, but lately I've found myself returning to these three (I'm breaking the rules yes sorry):
Something Borrowed, Something Blue
there were pages turned with the bridges burned (everything you lose is a step you take) - diabetic!Alex
treading water in the deep, just waiting for the tides to meet -(soulmates)
but also there's a wip I'm working now which..... might take first place when I post skjdhkjsdh WE'LL SEE!
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PLEASE PLEASE CONSIDER THIS OPEN TAG IF YOU'D LIKE TO DO IT! with all of the tumblr nonsense and how behind I've been on here lately I'm all over the place with tags at the moment.
other tags (no pressure!): @firenati0n @nocoastposts @wordsofhoneydew @thedramasummer
@heysweetheart-writes @stellarm @suseagull04 @bigassbowlingballhead
@eusuntgratie @magicandarchery @read-and-write- @iboatedhere
@anchoredarchangel @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @alasse9 @itsmaybitheway
@getmehighonmagic @rmd-writes @sparklepocalypse
xx
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Good morning QSMP fans with objectively wrong takes such as (but not limited to) 'Quackity is obviously shady and a blatant liar for speaking Spanish, his first language and the main language spoken in his personal life for his entire childhood, on his Spanish channel, where he has made it clear that he caters to a Hispanic audience, in front of an audience of people who mainly speak and understand Spanish, and he deserves to be dragged for this.' You guys really do just prove that sometimes evolution does make mistakes.
#so pissed#wait for the translations like the rest of us#OR TYPE IT UP INTO GOOGLE TRANSLATE OR SOMETHING.#I DO NOT CARE.#but dragging quackity for speaking his first language on the channel he created to specifically speak spanish is just weird#argue with me in the reblogs if you want but if you're taking him speaking spanish as a sign that he's shady and a liar#who is trying to conceal the truth#then you have bigger problems then this post#jesus fucking christ#qsmp#quackity#sarcasm#qsmpblr#I've seen real people with this take and I'm annoyed
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got a 79 on my economics finals i need to jump off a cliff 😂
#i still passed that class and got good grades on the rest of my classes too#just waiting for one more but damn this just looks so fucking ugly 😭#dude barely thought anything and he did say he will let u pass as long as you attend his classes AND I DID WTF#even that one time there was only five of us in there like you could've considered attendance bro 😂#i swear all of us learned NOTHING in his class like he would literally just read off the book or a ppt and like..translate it in tagalog#a total of 10 mins of lecture then he starts gossiping with my classmates like it was fine at some point but then he really just kept doing#that on all of his classes like even in the exam day he was so noisy gossiping with the students 😭#he gave out the lesson resources(?) LATE too and i did try to understand them but the exams are just so fucking weird 😭#its like....idk i READ the lessons and understood them but the exam was still so fucking hard like do you want us to pass or not 😂#well idk im just pissed off KSKSKD a line of 7 grade made me the way i am now lol suicidal and shit 😂😂😂#the last time is another complicated story tho...i mean i don't care as much now bc i still passed anyway?#it just looks so ugly.....fuck you 😭#like he didn't even have homework or projects like dude literally just predicted the grade for pre-finals i mean from 93 to 79 like okay 😂#share ko lang 🙄#<- this might be my vent tag KDJDJ i hope no one uses the same thing lmfao
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You think the Zone has its version of Comic Con?
Like? Think about it. You have literally all of time to work on it, your Magnum Opus, your life's work. That DREAM comic. All the supplies you could ever wish for. Endless paper. Endless ink. You can practice and practice for CENTURIES until it's JUST right.
Wouldn't you want to share it?
There are definitely Ghosts who have Obsessions that make them collect.
And two people meeting would lead to a group. Lead to a bigger group. Lead to a large group. A gathering. A crowd even. Eventually you need a Lair to meet IN. It becomes An Event.
People hear about it.
Want to bring other art mediums. Food stalls. Report on it. It grows. Shoot offs start happening. Niche meet ups.
But like?
Unlike comic con? It's all FREE. Sure, you might have fork over the ecto to make your copy. And yeah, weaker ghosts can only do that so many times. Will have to prioritize. But? They can come back after leaving for a nap. Ask a buddy to come with. There ARE work arounds.
Just? Imagine the unbelievable HIPE? Danny would feel? But be unable to TELL anyone about? Zone Con happens several times a year! Cause so many people wanna come. The Zone being infinite, after all.
Problem 1? They're using THEIR standard of a "year". Which is actual 5 earth years. So it's only happens every year and a half for him. And Problem 2? He can't even TALK about how excited he is about Z Con with anyone (outside his friends and family) because they haven't heard of it and might Ask Questions.
It's ALSO held in a part of the Zone that's like? Three days of flying away from the portal. And no amount of begging is gonna get any of his loved ones to camp in the Speeder for around six-ish days just to go to a Con.
So you can imagine his DELIGHT. His utter JOY and *Target Spotted* "!!!" Noise, when? In the crowd? He spots A HUMAN! Hi fellow human!!! Omg, wanna be Con Besties? *doesn't even wait for an answer*
So now? This sad, blonde, deeply lost and kinda alarmed, trench coat dude? Is Danny's new Z Con Going Bestie! You got a map yet, bestie? No? That's cool, he has one. By the way, he has human food in the Speeder if you nee-
YES!
Cause, see, here's the THING. John? Lost to the Realms Infinte. Or Infinte Realms. Translation was iffy... and on fire... like the rest of the building. It was him or the kids those psychos had kidnapped, for what fucked "ritual" the voices in their heads, that THEY thought were demons but frankly he's pretty sure was just feedback from-
Look, doesn't matter, he had to choose. He always knew someday he'd have too. That even twisting Luck and talking fast wouldn't quite be enough. And he had to decide, in that moment, which outcome mattered more to him. They get out safe, or he does.
Wasn't much of a question, was it?
So, there he is. Staring down oblivion and all those debts unpaid. 'Bout to see who's gonna come for him this time, and take what left of wretched soul. When? He bleeds on the FUCKIN two-bit crap circle they squiggled in God only knows what. Remembers that "oh YEAH, set dressings!" Sometimes when you focus too hard on insuring a Good Outcome?
You weird weird as shit byproducts happening on the side to balance it all out.
Or BAD ones.
He wakes up someone fucking green and crowded. For the life of him can't tell you which one it is. And THAT was of course, bout two days ago.
Biggest and most immediate problem? He... does NOT recognize what flavor of magical fuckery this is. Doesn't seem Fae. And doesn't smell like Hell. There are... there are honest to God BOOTH BABES hanging around. Hunks too. The view is LOVELY.
And nerdy.
Very, very nerdy.
But he isn't THAT out of touch. So he should recognize SOMETHING. Or at least the languages. But nope! It's like aliens and magic had a nerd baby and dipped it in GREEN. And the worst thing? Is there is food everywhere, but it all glows and John's not stupid enough to eat it.
Then? Sweet merciful fuck. Salvation! Some teeny bopper Barely No Longer Teen fresh faced INFANT of a Hero kid. With a SHIP. Who has FOOD and a clear idea of where they are. Hello~ John's new BEST FRIEND. Yes. Absolutely. Con Buddies, whatever.
Just feed me, kid.
Only? Once he inhales like 5 "Fenton rations"? He only gets half way through introducing himself before getting interrupted. Kid hears "magic" and "occult Detective" and just? Goes "oh! So you wanna check out the magic Ally with me? Sam wanted me to pick up some witchy stuff!"
..............how magic?
(In Which? Constantine becomes Danny's interdimensional Con buddy)
@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @nerdpoe
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Welcome home... Soldat? | Part I
That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.
Summary: Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.
Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra
Words: 2.9k++
Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: implied 18+ content, implied smut, dubious con on groping reader's body, dark(?) possessive behaviour, google translated russian, our soldat is kinda cute(?) in his own twisted way, and well, basically fluffy times with the soldat.
P/S: Guys, I never planned this at all. I mean, who am I kidding? All of my fics are not planned and I clearly write things out of impulse. Therefore, this one don't have much of a story building/plot because it was born out of one scene that flashed in my head and has been replayed way to many times that I need to let it out. Anyway, I still hope you enjoy it, somehow.
Read my other works here: Masterlist
Y/N didn't know when exactly she started this habit but she swore to herself to never grow out of it.
It's been nearly 2 years since the fall of Hydra and the avenger has accepted the winter soldier under their wing. Begrudgingly by Tony, but the rest of them seemed like they're not against it.
Y/N used to be an agent from SHIELD but since the fall, she had been recruited under the avenger's programme and had been living in the tower since.
She remembered the day when Bucky first came in, he was quiet and weary all the time. Like an abandoned cat, picked up by a stranger to come to their home. And it took the whole team months before he slowly adapted.
Who knew he would morphed into a sassy, grumpy little shit, right?
Since the first day, Y/N had been making an effort to make him feel welcomed. Helped him to adjust to modern times. Though it was not regular but she's glad he came to her from time to time to ask about things.
Y/N only meant it to be casual when she greeted him back from his missions. Usually, it'll be something like,
"Oh you're back?"
"How's the team?"
"Good to see you well put together from such horrendous mission."
"God, you look like you fell from 5 flight of stairs."
"Are you even trying to fight back, Bucky?"
But one time, Bucky came back in the morning around breakfast, she wasn't feeling sassy or clever. So, instead of greeting him with playful remarks, in the glory of her messy bed hair and iron man pyjamas, she greeted him with a sleepy smile, "Welcome home, Bucky."
And that surely made the 6 foot, bulky hunk of a soldier paralysed in his spot. His ocean blues slightly widen, and his cheeks deepen in blush.
For a moment, he wondered if this is how he would feel if he had a wife waiting for him to come back from war back in the 40's. But, then again nothing can be compared to the sight he was seeing as he is now.
And Y/N didn't want to ever lose that memory of him.
Cute and flustered Bucky is a very rare sight to see. Perhaps, this was the only time she could witness it and she want to cherish it for the rest of her life.
Though Bucky never replied to Y/N's greeting, it didn't stop them from starting a whole new routine.
Y/N always knew that she had a thing for the sargent, but about 2 months from that moment, Y/N realized she was in love.
And she waited for him, every single chance she had for arrival of the team to come back. Just like she is now, at 03:45 in the morning, while scavenging for something sweet she can eat as she waits for Bucky's return.
When, she turned around she was not expecting to have her face into clashed into something, "Oww!" Y/N shuts her eyes close as she rubbed her aching nose to ease the sharp strike of pain.
For a moment there, she seriously thought she might have just bumped into some kind of a solid air that appeared out of nowhere, but when she opened her eyes, it was just Bucky who was standing rather ominously still.
"My god, you scared the shit out of me. I know you used to be an assassin but, you gotta announce yourself sometimes, man." She joked. Although she did find it impressive that he managed to silently sneak up on her with those thick, heavy combat boots he was wearing.
"Woah, someone's been having a field day kicking your ass, huh?" Y/N's eyes lingered a little longer on the wounds at the side of his temple that she didn't notice the void in his eyes.
"Anyway..." she continued as she shook of the thoughts of caressing the cut on the corner of Bucky's lip, before greeting him with a gentle smile, "Welcome home."
Bucky's unresponsiveness was nothing new to her. With the amount of silent glares and gruff eye-rolls that he had shot at her these past few months, she's used to it by now.
But, when she finally had the guts to look him in the eye, only then she noticed the underlying shift. Albeit, his signature frown was still as present as ever but, those eyes had made her questioned of the slight difference from what she recognized.
Bucky wordlessly step forward and cornered her until her back meets the side of the kitchen isle. He took his time assessing her, almost admiring the way her iris wavered in confusion.
Something is wrong.
Her guts were screaming at her to notice it but her body wasn't reacting accordingly. That's when the voice of the AI, Jarvis echoed through the walls.
"Emergency alert: Code Winter. Initiated by Captain Steve Rogers. All agent is advised..." The announcement went on based on protocol while the cogs in Y/N's brain finally moved, "Code Winter? That means..."
"...to be cautious of Sargent James Barnes; reprimand on sight however try not to engage alone. Agents is..." Jarvis voice in the background interwoven with Y/N's internal deduction, "...This is not Bucky?"
As she tried to put her own mind into perspective, trying to make herself believe that this man in front of her is not Bucky Barnes who she had been adoring over for these past few months, the soldat's hands reached the side of her neck, squeezing the softness of her flesh while his thumbs grazed the shape of her jawline.
His heavy gaze remained on hers, willing her to stay as still possible.
"Bucky...?" She called his name in hopes of triggering something, anything for within his controlled mind.
At end of the corridor leading towards the kitchen, Steve could see how the soldat had already gotten his hands on Y/N and panic strike him like lightning, he sprinted towards her as he despretely shouted, "Y/N! Stay away from--"
But Y/N was not able to render anything she heard from Steve, especially after a long silence, the soldat finally spoke, "Yes, I'm home..."
He carefully pulled her face closer to his as his lips planted on her soft cheek, "...мое cолнышко (my sunshine)" he lifted for a second just to kiss her again on her temple as he whispered lowly, "...мое Родная (my darling)"
Y/N's heart was beating madly for several different reasons. Parts of her was terrified that the soldat might break her neck within an instance, but it gradually changes into something much more confusing, a conflicted joy, when he keep on trailing his lips all over her face.
What is happening?
Both her and Steve was practically frozen in pure confusion.
Steve's mouth hanged open as words failed to form, while Y/N was unable to comprehend any sort of thoughts, let alone counter movements; when the soldat continue to whisper Russian endearments against her skin, littering sweet kisses on every part of her face, except for her lips as if he wanted to tease her.
His hands slowly travel down her back and stopped on the side of her waist, pulling her body closer until there was no space in between them anymore, before he wrapped his arms around her.
The drag of his stubble on her skin burned but it felt so good when he kissed it after.
Seconds later, Sam managed to catch up with Steve and his cautious approach fell as he witnessed the soldat's rather domestic actions towards Y/N.
Sam foolishly let his guard down as he approached with a question directed to Steve, "Is the tin man back?" That was when a bullet barely grazed the tip of his ear that then buried through the wall behind him.
Both Steve and Sam forced to stop any sort of movement as the soldat's aim was still locked towards their direction; his cold blue eyes pierced with a menacing warning, all the while posessively holding Y/N in his arms as his kisses trailed the side of her neck.
"Nope, not yet." Sam answered his own question as he waited for Steve's order.
Y/N felt like she have to do something to de-escalate the situation. After a quick deduction, and based on the soldat attitude towards her, she took the risk of believing that he would not do anything to hurt her, so she decided to play along.
Will it work though?
Well, she got to have to try for it work.
She gulped nervously before softly calls for him, "Soldat?" she looked up towards him.
When the soldat gave her his attention, she watched the loose strand of his hair fall down to his face. Her hand went up and reached for it, "How about we go back to your room and let me tend these wounds, hmm?" She cooed while tucking his behind his ear and briefly caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers.
The soldat didn't reply but instead silently process her proposition.
However, the hesitation only worried her more, so she continued to persuade, as she cautiously slide her hand, following his arm that was holding her teammates at gun point, "It'll be just the two of us. How's that sound?" She smiled warmly at him as she managed to lower it enough to grab the gun away from his grasp.
There was a glint of indecipherable emotion in his eyes when she mentioned that, which then he nodded in agreement.
"Okay then, let's go." She put the gun on the kitchen isle behind her and replaced her hand in his, pulling him towards his bedroom. The soldat did not protest to her lead, in fact her followed her obediently.
But before Y/N makes an exit, she looked back towards Steve and mouthed a reassuring message, "I got this."
The captain had all the rights to be weary but at this point, he just had to believe in Y/N's action plan. He nodded and replied, "Be safe. We'll be outside."
Along the walk towards Bucky's room, all she could think was that she can handle it and she got this under control.
But, does she?
Well, Y/N did have it under control, in terms of keeping the soldat from going on a berserk rampage but what she didn't think through was how the fuck she should handle his behaviour towards her.
After they arrived to Bucky's room, she had instructed him to strip off his tactical suit and leave him sitting at the edge of the bed, only in his short to avoid him reaching for any hidden weapons he had, all the while she went to grab the first aid from his bathroom.
Now that she almost done tending the small injuries on his face, it finally dawned to her that the soldat had her immobilized in between his legs as his hands rubbed the back of her thighs, occasionally squeezing the softness of her body in his tender grip.
His intent gaze waited patiently for her to finish and as soon as she did, he pulled her on his lap, making her to straddle on top him as he smushed his face on her chest, "Oh, Родная (darling)... I have missed you."
Her hands found her balance on his shoulders while the soldat roaming hands held her body still by the back of her waist.
It will be a lie if she said her heart didn't skipped when he confessed; even if it was still the soldat's thoughts and words but it was Bucky's voice.
The soldat pulled his other hand to play with the buttons of her pyjamas shirt, specifically around her chest area.
Part of him wanted to just rip her clothes off from her body but another part of him didn't want to. He didn't want scare her; and his precious little darling deserved to be pampered.
He had her buttons popped off; one by one, slow and almost sensual while Y/N was still in a heated debate with herself on what she should to next. She wanted the soldat to stop but god the temptation of wanting more was beyond her will power.
This is not Bucky.
She knew that. But, she had been bewitched by the look in those familiar blue eyes. So enthralled and so keen to unwrap her.
Y/N let out a low yet sharp gasp as her chest was finally revealed, "Soldat, what..." The soldat take a quick glance into her eyes, "...are you doing?" before trailing back down to the curve of her breasts, cupped so beautifully with a simple black bra.
His hands went back to grabbed her thighs as he replied, "Just wanna hold you." He leaned closer and left a lingering kiss in between her breasts, mumbling deep, " Wanna feel you, мое Родная (my darling)"
Fuck, it feels so good.
"Wanna feel you..." Y/N's grip on his bare shoulder tightened as he lips warmed the top of her right breast, "...here." An unexpected moan slipped out of her lips as the soldat latched his wet mouth on her skin, bruising it with his mark.
He groaned to the taste of her, so sweet and soft, he wanted to pull the bra off her and suckle on her nipple. He bet that they're perky and so sensitive. Bet he could make her cum just by playing with them.
He wanted to leave his bite mark around them, make them look much more prettier. But, he needed to be patient.
He brought his left hand up to hold the other side of her chest; pulling another pretty noise as the cold metal of his thumb gently stroked the exposed skin of her breast.
"Wanna feel you..." His flesh hand made its way lower and cupped her clothed sex, unexpectedly making her grind down to his hold, "...here."
She couldn't help to find shelter in the crook of his neck when he began to stroke her sensually.
This is getting out of hand.
Y/N doesn't mind to entertain him if the soldat only asked for him to hold her but it was clear that he wanted so much more than just innocent touches. Especially when he languidly rubbed his middle finger in between the slit of her pussy.
She hates how easy it was for Bucky's touch turned her on, his hands and his lips; regardless if his actions was someone else's.
This is wrong.
This has to stop.
"No... soldat." She whimpered in his ears as his finger drew slow circles on her clit, his mouth latched on her shoulder.
"I can't touch you here?" He murmured softly as he pressed harder. Even with the barrier of the cotton panties, she was so sensitive to his touch; he loves that about her.
"N-no. You can't." She choked back a moan as she replied.
God, what if he doesn't care?
What if he'll get mad and force it on her?
She can't imagine the guilt Bucky had to experience if the soldat take her right now. And all because her stupid little brain cannot comprehend a plan to stop him, all because she let the soldat touch her as freely, as willingly.
Salty tears started to blur her vision when she sniffled them back.
Much to his deperateness, the soldat pulled her away and watched as her tears spilled out, "Oh darling, don't cry." He leaned in and kiss the corners of her eyes, murmuring his words of comfort, "I hate to see you cry, мое cолнышко (my sunshine)." His metal hand slithered to her back and his palm stroked her lovingly.
"Okay, okay. I won't touch your sweet princess part, okay?" He patted her pussy one last time before reaching to swipe her tears away. "I promise." He whispered.
As much as he wanted to fuck her stupid, fill her hole full with his load; however the soldat does hold her very dear to his heart and hates to see her sad.
"Just let me hold you close, darling?" He cooed as he kissed the edge of her lips.
Y/N didn't know why but she trusted his words. Maybe it was because he was so gentle with her, that she was tricked into believing him.
She watched the soldat waited patiently for her response and when she nodded softly, he swiftly lifted her in his arms and lay her down on the bed.
He tucked himself in under the sheets with her and naturally rested his face on her chest. His fleshed arms wrapped securely around her waist and his metal one around her thighs, as he pulled her closer; almost suffocating himself in between her warm breasts.
It was like an instinct for Y/N to encircle her arms around his neck while her hands run through the thick of his hair, absentmindedly playing with the softness of it.
She almost giggle when the soldat let out a deep-throated sound of relieved sighs as she continued to massage his scalp.
As the soldat started to sail deeper into dreamland, Y/N thought that maybe this will be the only and the last time she had the chance to hold Bucky like this and she knew it was wrong to feel grateful to the soldat because had done nothing but terrible, despicable things in the past.
But when she thought about it, none of those sins was his choice to make. He was created to kill and nothing else.
But what if he had something to hold on to?
A hope to look forward to?
A person to protect?
Or a home to go back to?
Would he still be the same monster he had been before?
She have not a slightest clue.
But, what she does know that this soldat who's clinging in her arms, deserves something kind.
And she hoped that she managed to give him a sense of peace for once in his life.
Y/N nuzzled to the side of his tired-looking face and placed a sweet kiss on his temple as she whispered ever-so-softly, "Welcome home, soldat."
Part II >>
Read my other works here: Masterlist
A/N: This is possibly part 1? I'm not sure either. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments! And reblogs is much appreciated!
#winterarmyyfics#welcome home soldat au#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#winter soldier × reader#winter soldier x you#winter soldier!bucky#bucky fluff
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honey, can you.… commit a crime for me?
© zhongrin | 2024 ✼ no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡
✼ characters ┈ zhongli, childe, kaeya, diluc, al haitham, tighnari, wriothesley, neuvillette
✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, crack, fluff
✼ a/n ┈ what even are these hsdlkfjlskjdf kinda wanna create a yandere version of this /is bonked
ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼
ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)
zhongli immediately tries to find the core of the problem. “what is it that troubles you, dearest? perhaps we can find a more peaceful solution? violence is not always the answer. this, i know from all the 6000 years i’ve lived—” aaaand there he goes on his lecture. if your goal was to get him to give you a preaching of a lifetime, well, congratulations, you’ve done it. sit back and relax, brew some tea, maybe get some snacks, because you’ll be here for a while.
al haitham, surprisingly, actually humors you. only because he knows you were teasing him and this is his way of teasing you back, but you’ll probably end up staring at him in confusion because he looks dead serious while doing so. “what an interesting offer. i’ll have to ask you to submit a formal proposal through your special submission channel. make sure you have several backup plans in case of emergencies. have it on my desk by tomorrow afternoon, the latest.”
wriothesley straight up denies you with a roll of his eyes. he knows you’re joking, and honestly speaking he would stain his hands with blood for you, but as much as he loves you, he really didn’t want you to end up at the fortress while under a sentence. although theoretically he could pull some strings to make sure you spent your sentence peacefully if that scenario ever happened, the fact was that such records will follow you for the rest of your life, and he wants you to stay in the sunlight. “what did i always tell you? don’t break the law... but if you really want to, how about you try to steal my breath away with a kiss?”
neuvillette stops writing his reports immediately, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “my dear, come sit, let us converse.” he holds your hand and proceeds to rope you into a heart-to-heart talk. are you being harassed by someone? are you being threatened? the cup of water rippled erratically as he waited for you to answer those particular questions. is there something he could do to help that wouldn’t make either of you getting dragged into a court trial? can he— …. yeah, someone save him, he totally thinks that you’re serious.
childe agrees immediately. is that even a question? “sure! who do you need me to kill?” he asks, with his signature wide boyish grin plastered onto his face and his hand twitching to reach for his hydro blade. look. it’s your ajax. your (man)childe. your tartaglia. i bet you liked his murderous tendencies anyway. are you even surprised?
kaeya makes it a point to gasp and looking like a maiden who caught the sight of two lovers rendezvousing in the garden. when he notices you not buying his act, however, he laughs and switches gear into a teasing smile, “oh? was me stealing your heart not enough?”
diluc stares at you blankly, one eyebrow raised, his voice monotonous — if you hadn’t known how to read his minuscule reactions, you would have missed the spark of mirth dancing in his eyes; a trace of the young ‘luc buried deep inside the scarred heart of a charred phoenix, “…. hmph. did kaeya put you up to this?”
tighnari hums nonchalantly and gives you a knowing smirk, his tail swishing mischievously behind him, “perfect. i do have a rare specimen i’d like to plant. i’m sure it’ll benefit well from the nutrients it’ll absorb from your victim. so, where did you put the body?”
✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈
@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths
@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader
@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie
@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone
@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee
@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc
@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#zhongli x reader#al haitham x reader#neuvillette x reader#wriothesley x reader#childe x reader#kaeya x reader#diluc x reader#tighnari x reader#zhongli#al haitham#wriothesley#neuvillette#childe#kaeya#diluc#tighnari#honey can you...#rin writes
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐄
Pairing(s): Charles Leclerc x Porsche!reader
Summary: The Porsche Princess, that nickname has followed Y/N around since birth. And who better for a princess than a prince?
Warning(s): shitty Google translate
yn_porsche
liked by milaaa, porsche, mickschumacher, and others
yn_porsche Essen und Freunde 🤍
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milaaa Mach keine Witze, du liebst das Essen mehr als ich 😘
papaporsche meine Prinzessin
yn_porsche Ich liebe dich Papa ❤️❤️
mickschumacher and where was my invitation?
yn_porsche sorry Micky but it was a girls only event
username hello??? not mick attempting to shoot his shot 😭😭
username girl I hate to break it to you but mick and y/n are only friends. They’ve known each other for years now
username day 673 of asking for Porsche to rejoin f1 permanently
milaaa 🤭🤭🤭
username milaaa WHAT DO YOU KNOW
milaaa oh nothing at all 🤭
yn_porsche 🫣🫣🫣
username y/n drop the pie recipe because it looks delicious
username y/n drop the makeup routine because you are gorgeous
username well that too
f1
liked by porscheagracing, yn_porsche, papaporsche, and others
f1 Welcome to the paddock porscheagracing!
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porscheagracing Excited to be here!
username JSHSHD OMG
username RACING ROYALTY IS BACK BABY
username ….wait…does this mean we will be able to see THE Y/N Porsche in the paddock
yn_porsche no promises but I do hope to make it to at least one Grand Prix!! Most likely the German one 😉
username DOES THIS MEAN THAT HOCKENHEIMRING IS RETURNING TOO
username THE RUMOURS WERE TRUE
username 11 teams f1 is so back
username I CANT WAIT
porscheagracing
liked by f1, mickschumacher, yn_porsche, and others
porscheagracing Get to know us!
Who We Are: Originally founded in 1931 by Ferdinand Porsche, Porsche was meant to represent excellence, luxury, and class.
Our story starts with the creation of our first sports car, the 356, to our unveiling of the legendary 911. But those are simply designs of luxury sports cars, they do not encapsulate our rich heritage of motorsport.
We have dominated various endurance championships, most notably being the 24 Hours of Le Mans. It is time, however, to take that dominance to open wheel and Grand Prix racing.
What We Do: We will be competing in Formula One starting from the 2025 season. Our goal is to bring a sense of rejuvenation back to the world of Formula One (and of course take a few world championships while we are at it).
Our team: Holding the words power, precision, and performance in mind we created a team of uniquely qualified individuals to make sure we excel in all aspects.
- CEO: Henrik Porsche
- Team Principal: Sebastian Vettel
- Technical Director: Julia Wagner
- Chief Aerodynamicist: Karl Becker
- Chief Mechanic: Michael Braun
- Strategy Coordinator: Lisa Fischer
Information on our drivers will be released shortly.
Wagen Sie es, sich von Träumen mitreißen zu lassen.
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username is that Sebastian Vettel I see???
username try as he might he can’t escape motorsport 😭😭😭
mickschumacher 🖤❤️💛
yn_porsche F1 BABY
username please please please let Mick Schumacher be one of the drivers
username if his hearts mean anything you might be in luck
username maybe I’m just dumb but did anyone else just realise that the Porsche team colours are the same as the German flag 🧍♀️🧍♀️
username it’s not just you I promise 😭😭
username any predictions on how good they’ll be? Cause I’m thinking they’ll start as a midfield car this year and then very quickly work their way up to the top
username i agree, they had Vettel on board as TP so he’ll give them plenty of experience in that regard but otherwise it will probably take them a bit of time to get used to f1 itself. once they do however….the rest of the grid best be prepared
username honestly i just can’t wait till they gain major sponsorship deals
username from twitter i heard they may have deals from Apple, Hermès, and of course Volkswagen
porscheagracing
liked by arthur_leclerc, mickschumacher, yn_porsche, and others
porscheagracing Please give a warm welcome to your drivers for the 2025 season arthur_leclerc and mickschumacher
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mickschumacher Lass uns gehen Porsche 🖤❤️💛
arthur_leclerc Thank you so much for this opportunity
charles_leclerc Congratulations little bro, f1!!!
username THE LECLERC BROTHERS IN F1 IM GONNA CRY
username NO BECAUSE IM SO PROUD LIKE THESE ARE MY CHILDREN
yn_porsche Zeit, Rennen zu fahren 🫡🫡
arthur_leclerc I am going to pretend I understand what you are saying
yn_porsche someone is going to need to teach you German
milaaa I volunteer as tribute 🫡🫡
yn_porsche ah yes because you are known for your brilliant teaching strategies
milaaa shush
papaporsche Welcome to the team you two! Here’s to an incredible first season in Formula 1
mickschumacher Wir lassen Sie nicht im Stich, Chef
arthur_leclerc Gonna make Porsche proud
sebastianvettel Pleasure to be working with you both 😊
username plsssss he’s such a dad
username and we love him for it
username oh for sure
Charles Leclerc
alors... Y/N Porsche
Arthur Leclerc
frérot c'est quoi ce bordel
#f1 x reader#f1 social media au#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#formula one imagine#writingworlds
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cw. teasing bladie <3 fem! reader
you teasingly grab onto blade's hips and ground his lower half against the mattress with his hardening cock resting against his stomach, aching, hurting.
you don't touch him yet, instead, you kiss all around his tummy and pelvic area, everywhere, touching up his v-line with your plump lips while focusing on how his erection twitches against his stomach, when it throbs even harder and how filthily it drizzles with precum.
you know you shouldn't keep him waiting any longer, but hearing blade whimper for once was addicting, because in any other case it was him making you cry.
the gorgeous stellaron hunter was entirely erotic in his setting, with a tender perceive of hidden beauty that took ones breath away, not to mention that prominent scarlet red on his facial features that swallowed his hazy gaze, walking hand in hand with a dazed, fucked out demeanor beneath you.
blade was growing harder every time your lips would brush against his stomach and come so close to his cock, although still missing it. ugh, how he desperately wanted you to wrap those warm, wet lips around his cock and swallow him whole, like you used to!
how you licked his length until he twitches in you excitedly, a faint grin warming up your features in the darkened room, something stronger than developing pride on your face.
now, sliding your tongue from his stomach to where his cock was resting, you silently press your tongue to his oozing slit, tasting blade for the first time this night— he tastes good, always better actually, wonderful with every drop of his seed making your skin feel hotter.
blade immediately sets his hands on your shoulders before squeezing hard, shaking himself back into the present as he groans through a strained jaw. he gasps as you begin to suck him properly, his hardness poking at your throat before he shivers in pleasure when you attempt to deep throat him a little, only a bit, while carrying on to let your hands roam freely over his stomach and muscular chest.
blade could feel himself fill your mouth, aside from turning thicker while your tongue slurps the pre cum off his shaft— and the moan he spills is so throaty, gravel-alike you almost wonder if he's actually in pain.
your head was bouncing vividly now, lips plumped and painted artfully as you take him, because you see— blade just had been so fucking aroused tonight, and you teasing him was a little mean, you know? evermore when your boyfriend was so infatuated with your sensual moves and how your cheeks hollowed ever so wonderfully.
he certainly hadn't been thinking straight and had just wanted to touch you too, explore your body and give the pleasure all back, until it's you who wants more of the sweet contact again, entirely forgetting yourself.
©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr smut#honkai star rail smut#blade x reader#blade smut#blade x you#hsr x you#honkai star rail x you
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✮. ⋆ 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 (𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧) ⋮ slightly suggestive. not-so-accurate accent for hobie. not completely proofread.
hobie tended to be touchy, not in a bad way though. that’s how he displayed his affection after all, his loyalty. whether it be draping his slender arms over the shoulders of pav and miles, or even giving a playful nudges towards gwen whenever miguel gave his weekly lectures about absolute order and his canonical philosophy (total “control freak”, hobie adds).
his physical affection ends with him coming up behind you and caressing a spindly finger over your hips. his lip piercing grazing the back of your neck— cold yet familiar.
“finally foun’ you darlin’.”
or when you’re itching for his warm touch, you simply rest your hands and head onto his knees as you sit prettily onto the carpeted floor— completely halting his tapping leg and eyeing you with curiosity.
“wha’ is it lovely?” his voice sounded silky and it rumbled deep into his chest, like a purr.
the only response you give him is simply tracing a light touch onto his open palm, following the crevices of his rough skin. hobie only smiles, he knew you too well.
“did you miss my touch tha’ badly?”
he slowly reached over towards your cheek, playfully patting the plushness of your skin, making you whine. hobie chuckles at your neediness before brushing a handful of your soft cheeks— a hushed curse slipping through his lips as he witnessed an unholy sight.
you, on your knees, leaning into his touch, your eyes never leaving his. it was driving him crazy, to the point his palms started to tingle.
what really drives him nuts is when you teasingly deny his touches. hobie has been used to you begging for his touch, his affection, but denying his advances catches him by surprise.
“wait wha…?” his words are slurred in confusion when you swatted his lingering hand away from your waist, not even sparing him a glance.
“not today love, gotta catch some anomalies.” you adjusted the watch firmly onto your wrist, pressing colored buttons that projected your target— reeking havoc as it sprinted around a dimension that’s foreign to them.
hobie kept his cool as he spun in front of you. “not even a lil’ kiss?”
a hexagon portal ejected from the settings of your spider watch, illuminating orange light onto your features that made hobie ache for you even more.
“not even a little kiss.” you stuck your tongue with a sly smile, walking into the portal with a sway to your hips. “but i’ll see you at dinner!”
before hobie can even reply, your body was engulfed by the closing portal— leaving him utterly speechless and edged in the bleak darkness. he shakes his head with a crooked smile, tucking his tingling palms into the pockets of his leather vest as he strutted back into his own dimension.
though hobie hated to admit it, his touchiness was also his biggest weakness.
MOCHIFILM © 2023. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.
#✩.*˚ — ina’s works🎂#— ౨ৎ ࣪ . ⊹ : drabbles#ੈ♡˳ — (spiderverse) 📁#ੈ♡˳ — (atsv) 📁#ੈ♡˳ — (hobie brown) 🎞️#hobie brown x y/n#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown fanfiction#spiderpunk x reader#spiderpunk x you#spiderpunk x y/n#hobie brown x you#atsv x you#atsv hobie#atsv headcanons#hobie x reader#hobie x y/n#atsv fanfiction#atsv fic#spiderverse x reader#spiderverse fanfic
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storiesforpeanut [ lando norris ]
[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — bf!lando norris x pregnant gf!reader . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °. *
[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — soon-to-be-parents, fluff, mentions pregnancy, no specific timetable . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °. *
࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ this is inspired by a filipino actor, ryan agoncillo’s instagram hashtag, #storiesforlucho ! something about dad!lando makes me feel so soft >_< i’ll post this first before posting the written version of fine line (bc i am in a deep pit of writer’s block) anyway, enjoy <3
this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.
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storiesforpeanut
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storiesforpeanut the day mum and dad went to the hospital to make sure if the tests were true, if you were true. and you were. mum and dad are both confused, scared, but are confident that they could take care of another human being. peanut, the moment we saw this sonogram, our hearts were filled with joy.
this is the day dad called you ‘peanut’ because look at how little you were, my peanut. dad even convinced mum to name you peanut, but mum shut that idea right away. our little peanut, this account is dedicated to you, so you can look at our memories as a family.
peanut, mum and dad loves you so much. you may have changed the trajectory of our lives, but we are still grateful enough to have you in our life. we love you, peanut.
love, dad.
storiesforpeanut
8 likes
storiesforpeanut you were getting bigger day by day, peanut. bigger and stronger that mum was starting to show. mum never left my side, never missed a weekend supporting whatever it is dad was doing. she started wearing bigger clothes to avoid people seeing. not that she was embarrassed, but because mum was afraid that something would happen at the early stage of your growth.
mum did not believe in superstitions during pregnancy, but when you were growing inside of mum, she didn’t want to jinx anything that might harm you, peanut. avoiding the public eye was hard, but heck, your mum did such a good job doing so.
we love you, peanut. and we will protect you from any harm. we will protect you for the rest of our lives.
love, dad.
storiesforpeanut
16 likes
storiesforpeanut our first day back in abu dhabi after a year. mum got ready for our friday schedules and we arrived earlier. people were shocked to see her, after hiding her bump with oversized clothes for at least two months while accompanying dad. people took photos of mum and dad, people started congratulating the both of us.
we hid you for a little while, peanut. that’s because of dad’s work where almost everyone in the world is staring at us and that scared mum and dad. that someone might mob the both of us and could cause you and mum harm.
negativity aside, peanut, your aunts and uncles were excited when they saw mum. everyone, including dad’s big boss had a huge grin on their faces. everyone was happy to meet you, peanut. even though it will still be a few months until we meet you personally.
we love you, peanut. we can’t wait to meet you here.
love, dad.
storiesforpeanut
20 likes
storiesforpeanut mum and had has two moods: beach mood and winter mood. this is taken after our weekend in abu dhabi. we stayed for a few more days, exploring the beach and enjoying the sun before going to a cold place to spend some time with dad’s friends (and ski! which mum can’t do as of the moment, don’t want to harm you, peanut).
you won’t believe it, peanut. mum threw a snowball on dad's head, her revenge because i insisted we call you peanut.
mum enjoys the sun and winter, peanut. those are her favourite season. dad, however, loves all seasons as long as he gets to spend it with mum and you, as well, peanut. mum and dad will experience these seasons with you in a few months.
we love you, peanut. we can’t wait for you to experience your first snow, first beach, first autumn and first spring.
love, dad.
storiesforpeanut
29 likes
storiesforpeanut taken while mum and dad are on their way to maccy d’s in the middle of winter. mum said she wanted fries without the salt. /fries without the salt/. even though that was a weird request, can’t deny mum her weird cravings. after all, she’s growing a literal human inside her–which is you, peanut.
also, mum only ate three pieces of fries and made me eat it while she watched. that i didn’t like. but you know what? dad is ready to give you everything you want. you and mum. be it a weird craving, late night feed or nappy change–i will be there for you and mum. always in all ways.
we love you, peanut. we can’t wait for you here.
love, dad.
storiesforpeanut
37 likes
storiesforpeanut mum took this video. the very first time you kicked, and dad was in the shower (unfortunately). mum and dad are visiting mum’s family where mum reunited with her childhood dog. mum’s pup, poppy, immediately went to her and checked. poppy sensed your existence, peanut. even poppy was excited to meet you.
mum and dad’s family are delighted to have you, peanut. especially your grandmums. they now named themselves, nan from dad’s mum and granny from mum’s side.
we love you, peanut. we are all waiting for your arrival.
love, dad.
storiesforpeanut
55 likes
storiesforpeanut 30 weeks in, and we finally saw your beautiful face, peanut. mum and dad haven’t gotten over the first time they heard your heart beat, felt your kicks, yet here you are... so beautiful as mum’s doctor showed us your face.
peanut, mum and dad were scared the first time we found out that mum was pregnant. but seeing you now, all those fears are gone and we feel confident that we can do this–together.
you are such a happy baby, peanut. you even got dad’s dimples, said mum. you are a perfect balance of mum and dad.
we love you, peanut. 10 more weeks until we finally meet. we can’t wait for that day to come.
love, dad.
storiesforpeanut
79 likes
storiesforpeanut last week of mum’s beautiful belly. any day now, we will finally meet you. you’ll have your first breath, first cry. mum and dad and other family members cannot wait to finally meet you, peanut.
the last nine months has been crazy, peanut. it was crazy, but it was fun. brought mum and dad closer than ever. you’ll be so loved, no, you are so loved already, peanut. and a little spoiled because some of dad’s friends from work have sent you numerous toys and clothes and even diapers to last for the next year or two.
we love you, peanut. we’ll see you soon.
love, dad.
storiesforpeanut
249 likes
storiesforpeanut well, it’s nice to meet you, peanut. mum and dad are delighted to finally see you. mum laboured for almost 24 hours, and by the time stroked at exactly 04:49 am, you were born.
dad almost passed out during your birth (for some reason), but dad got through it. mum was so brave, dad held her hand throughout the procedure and never left mum’s side.
peanut, the second they returned you to mum and dad after cleaning you and helping mum, we couldn’t stop looking at you. how could we make such a beautiful baby like you? said dad.
we love you so much, peanut. welcome to the real world.
love, dad.
yourusername
liked by mclaren, lilymhe, landonorris and 1,839,937 others
yourusername baby olivia norris checking in 🫣👩🍼
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mclaren congratulations, y/n and lando! 🧡 welcome to the world, olivia 😍
landonorris my girls ❤️
user OMGGGGG shes hereeeeee
user congratulations 😭😭😭😭😭😭
user shes so tiny!!! 😭😭 so cute
lilymhe congratulations girl!! 😍 can’t wait to officially meet ms. olivia and see you soon 🤗
yourusername thank you babe 😚 you and alex can visit us anytime
alex_albon on our way NOW
yourusername dont bring any more toys ok
lilymhe aww why not :(
yourusername WE HAVE NO SPACE ANYMORE
landonorris
liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell and 1,990,827 others
landonorris me 🤜 🤛 peanut
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maxfewtrell will i be able to hold olivia 😁
landonorris no
maxfewtrell ☹️
yourusername lando be nice
landonorris ok fine
user let him hold olivia!!
landonorris 😐😐
oscarpiastri congratulations mate 🫡 on my way to give gifts
landonorris thank you and pls dont bring anymore
oscarpiastri it’s a koala bear
landonorris ...
landonorris ok fine i guess
oscarpiastri 🐨🐨🐨
user no way lando’s first picture with olivia is them doing a fistbump 😭
user why are there two babies in this pic
storiesforpeanut and landonorris
908,729 likes
storiesforpeanut on your very first boat ride, dad had the courage to finally ask mum an important question. a question dad has been wanting to ask mum since he saw your very first sonogram. and guess what, peanut? mum finally agreed to marry dad!
you may not remember this at all, peanut. but it was a day to remember, indeed. dad really wanted this to be perfect, and he got what he wanted. this is a year full of surprises.
we love you, peanut. we love you so much.
love, dad.
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user omgomgomgomgogm
user LANDO GETTING MARRIED JFJFHFJF IM CRYINGGG
user OLIVIA MAY NOT REMEMBER IT BUT SHE JUST WITNESSED HER PARENTS GET ENGAGED AND GET MARRIED IN THE SAME LIFE TIME
user congra😭😭😭😭tula😭😭😭😭tions
yourusername
690,857 likes
yourusername beach days with the loves of my life 🌅
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user i love this family so much
user THE KITTLE FINGERS
user PEANUT’S SMALL FINGERS IM CRYIGN
landonorris i love you babies
yourusername we love you, daddy
landonorris 😳😳😳
yourusername sleep on the couch tonight
landonorris I WAS JUST KIDDING
landonorris BABE
landonorris PLEAAAASEEEE
#lando norris imagine#lando norris fluff#lando norris one shot#lando norris oneshot#lando norris instagram edit#lando norris insta au#f1 imagine#f1 fan fic#f1 one shot#f1 instagram edit#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader
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late night bubble bath
((oh yeah the brainrot has hit HARD!!! IM IN LOVE!!! please send me asks / requests about miguel o’hara i might just melt ...))
gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara
comfort, fluff. a needy miguel who is just a big kitty.
warnings: mention of wounds, very little blood. taking care of him after a night of insomnia. use of spanish pet names, yet a translator helped me because my spanish isn’t the best. lmk if i missed anything!
word count: 3027
A sigh escapes your lips as you shakily grasp the cup of water along your bedside table. You weren't one to have intense insomnia, yet the anxiety bubbling within your gut served as a painful reminder that you haven't been blessed with a moment of shuteye.
Was it something you had forgotten? You ran through a mental checklist that consisted of taking after Miguel's late nights, and not a single chore was unfinished.
Leftovers for dinner could be found neatly packed away in the place he always checks in the fridge, so there was no need for your love returning from work hungry and tired. Today's laundry was already fluffed and ironed, which will make it easier to begin the upcoming morning. Miguel mentioned off-handedly to you how an important board meeting at his lab had been stressing him out, so you couldn't help but surprise him when he got back home even if it was just prepared outfits.
You leaned back against your pillow before rolling towards Miguel's side of your queen sized bed. You felt so jumpy, your hands itching to do anything. Nights like these you craved Miguel's presence tenfold, as he would be snuggled right in your arms, smoothing the stress out from the tips of your fingers through a careful massage. You could remember the sleepy rambles he'd murmur into the air over the ambience of the television, "Pasar tiempo contigo, brillante. Encantador. Mi pequeño amor. Could bask in your presence always, mi conejito." Miguel would whisper into your ears with a cute sleepiness, peppering your jaw with his lips. It's almost as if he was right beside you, brushing his thumb against your skin as he held your hands.
Thinking so fondly of your boyfriend's habits soothed the anxiety of your insomnia as you tried to remind yourself that he always stays safe and remembers you love him. Once coming home for the first time from work, he can't help but smother you in kisses and silly pet names, showering you in soft reminders of how much love and affection he has for you. And then the second time of the night, he'd do the same thing under different circumstances. It had happened the night before, and it'll happen again.
Miguel, soft groans escaping his bruised lips, would come through the balcony of your shared apartment that stored your little collection of flowers and greenery, slip through the door you always made sure to crack, and wake you up in the dead of the night to be bandaged and treated by your caring touch with hushed pleas. Whispering sweet things, neediness in every touch. "I missed you, cariño. Been waiting to see your pretty face all day, can I kiss you? P-please, let me kiss you."
And so you did, resting your fingers on his shoulders and slowly trailing up until they cupped his bloodied face by the jaw. Then, you'd painstakingly kiss him until his blood would mix with spit, his fangs desperately wanting to sink into your tongue.
Getting so caught up in your little dream, the blaring of a shrill beeping car down below your apartment startled you. Interrupting the glass upon your lips, it spilled onto your nightgown with a gasp.
"Fuck.." you mumbled to yourself, missing your boyfriend more than ever. Changing in a rush, you pulled over one of his flimsy lounge shirts over your head to bask in his smell as a reminder of his presence.
Nueva York was a city that didn't sleep, as the chatter of passersby rang through busy traffic. Bars down below thrived under the limelight, people not in their right mind hid in the shadows of skyscrapers.
You wondered what Miguel could be doing right now. Scouting the vibrant lights as his claws dug into the beam of a building? Knocking someone senseless under the conditions of justice? Saving a civilian as they fall from great heights?
Wondering made you sick, the anxiety bubbling in your stomach as if you were the one downing margaritas and cocktails in a scummy bar down below. You needed to distract yourself. So you did anything an adult on a late night would do.
So when you finally came to your senses, you slapped a flour dusted hand over your mouth and groaned.
Apron tied to your waist, hair in a loose bun– nothing too serious, in fact you appreciated how this style still kept your androgynous but still staying practical. Wisps of hair straying from the hold would cloud your vision every now and then, which you'd have to blow out of the way subconsciously while preparing the whipped frosting. The TV, distantly able to still be heard from the living room, echoed quietly through the apartment with an ambience that lulled you to a calm. It was the news, you couldn't help yourself due to late night paranoia, but your hands were busy and your attention was snatched away from your beloved creation.
You've truly outdone yourself this time, you decide as you watch the oven in front of you with an exhausted gaze and a yawn. The kitchen was messy with egg residue and splashes of water and vinegar oil, the clock on the microwave read "2:49" in the morning. It was a kind of chaos you normally wouldn't find yourself to, as Miguel loved a schedule, a routine. It wasn't as if he didn't want you to have your fun, far from that, he simply just loved doing whatever was eventful with you. And you couldn't help but find baking amusing as you observed the small cakes in the shaped pans inflate as time went on.
You found yourself in the middle of your small apartment kitchen floor, sleepily peering into the oven until that sleepiness shifted into fully dozing off. It couldn't be helped, crashing so hard after pulling off a mission to pump out more than a dozen cupcakes, half chocolate batter and the rest strawberry flavoring. Thankfully, you were able to stay awake long enough to take the cakes out to cool, but as soon as the oven made the beep to turn off– the couch was the closest thing to fall into a needed rest.
It's hard to know how long you had exactly fallen asleep for, yet the frantic arms encompassing your form must have been any kind of indicator. It was a startle to wake from, as your mouth couldn't keep quiet before your brain began working.
"Eeugh! I- God Miguel, you scared me so badly–" You heaved into his shoulder as he practically slumped on top of you, whispering his usual panicky tangents he'd spew after returning from his late nights.
"Lo siento, lo siento mucho." Miguel buried his face into your neck, nose pushing against your pulse. "Would never purposely scare you, mi lucero del alba. But not seeing you in bed, that made me feel… not like myself." Miguel confessed with a shaky breath and a pause, breathing in the floury smell and just you, swearing a purr erupted from his throat. "Would have fallen on the floor of our apartment if you weren't here, in my arms. "Te necesito más que al propio aire, baby."
A subtle smile peeked through his tone despite the desperation, the longing in his touch. His forearms pushed against your back ever so slightly, reminding himself that you're here. That you're safe. His hands met your sides, thumbs circling in a soothing motion. You knew it calmed him down to trace shapes within your skin, but you wouldn't be lying if you said you loved the burn of his touch when he isn't even truly doing anything on purpose. It was as if the warmth of his finger tips ignited into flames, searing his touch into you. You'll never be able to forget each circle, heart, or even a very rare star traced into your skin, accompanying every freckle or birthmark you have. Every part of you is adored, loved, cherished.
"I'm going to be here, waiting for you. No matter where you are or where I have to be."
"I hope so." Miguel hummed, "If anything happens to you," His claws found themselves underneath his shirt that you wore to bed that night, trailing your sides like handing a delicate doll. "Tengo miedo de lo que pueda hacerles. For you I'd do anything."
His body didn't feel suffocating to be lying beneath, as he cradled the both of you to be meeting halfway. It was heartwarming, being clung to like a teddy bear by a man who's trying to hold up an entire city with his own two hands.
You realized his suit was only partially off, head uncovered as well as part of his chest– the suit clung to his waist like a lifeline. Needing to see his soft little smile that he held so selfishly against your neck, you led his face to be held over yours. A soft whine escaped his lips, missing the warmth your neck provided, but a quick hush quieted himself easily.
"Don't act like a sad puppy, my love." You whispered into his lips, breath fanning an old cut just underneath. Inspecting the damage, Miguel's eyes fluttered shut as you smoothed over the stress lines between his eyebrows. Not too rough today, expect a few cuts and bruises. So in your terms and conditions, today may even be considered a great day. "Aww, look at you. You did so well today, didn't you?" Awarding him with a kiss, Miguel melted into you like a weighted blanket.
Both hands cupping his jaw, you held him there for a long while, relishing in the moments of peace and quiet with him. Peppering quick, feathery kisses over his lips and gliding over cheekbones and freckles upon the nose, kissing the stress line you smoothed out, before doing the routine all over again. You strayed, always did– couldn't resist his alluring features and soft pleas to continue kissing him.
Miguel isn't always so docile. Some nights he'd storm into your bedroom in a trance of pent-up frustration and stress with bruising kisses and bites that took home amongst hidden skin. But most nights, he could be handled like putty. It was an adorable sight to see, as his fangs peeked through his plush lips from the tension going slack in his jaw.
Your lips finally met his for the first time that night, yet it wasn't heated or filled with ulterior motives. Miguel's mouth met yours, and he lazily tasted every inch of your mouth, grazing his fangs against your tongue by accident. He needed to know every inch of you, and remind himself a hundred times over.
"Miggy.." you mumbled between his kisses, and happiness dripped from your voice as he barely let out a "mm?" Separating for just a moment, he decided to simply nuzzle your hand as a substitute.
"Let me run you a bath."
This sparked his attention, a quirk of the eyebrow and a stare of disbelief. "Eh?" Miguel chuckled stiffly, his nuzzles coming to an abrupt end. "¿Qué piensas de mí, un niño pequeño? I'm no toddler." By his response, he hasn't heard such things in ages. But as you slipped away from underneath his grasp, you padded towards your shared bathroom without a word. He was the one to bicker, but once the plan was in motion Miguel couldn't help but abide with a light begrudge in his step.
"The little cakes can wait, honey. Don't try to use those as an argument to get out of this." Your words would come out as a scold to anyone else, but as you turned to start the water it was clear you simply just cared. Too much for your own good. "Let me just do this for you, I missed you today." You admitted.
"It's too late for this still, cariño." He groaned with a tint of guilt as you started helping him undress. "I'll just shower, go on. Vete a dormir." Yet he did not swat away your advancements to prepare a towel, nor even the drop of bubble bath mix in the water. Miguel looked at you like a deer in headlights, mouth agape as you did so.
"I added the bubble bath formula only because you told me to sleep." You said deadpan, grabbing the suit that's fallen to the floor to hang it on the rack. Miguel's expressions contorted to annoyed, then shocked, to just downright amused of your antics that always had him guessing. He cackled as you kept yourself busy, until you finally signaled to get in.
It was as if you tried to get a cat in the water, as he stared at the mountain of bubbles that rivalled the skies. "I'm not getting in. I can't lose the rest of my dignity." This time, his tone was solid– nothing sounded as if it could get through to him. But you could read your boyfriend like a book, solve him like a puzzle in a matter of seconds.
"Miggy, my love. My other half. My everything." You cooed, dropping to your knees to poke at the bubbles. "You don't get in this forsaken bathtub with just the right warmth and the bubbles I made with my own blood, sweat and tears, you will sleep on the couch until I give you explicit permission to lay with me." His scarlet eyes glowed with genuine fear in his eyes. "And then, you will just lie with me. You would not be able to hold my hands or waist or twirl your finger around my hair– you will be in timeout. No bed, no holding–"
A splash interrupted your words, wetting your legs as his size struggled to stay in the tub. His arm hung out of the side as his feet kicked up on the tile walls, and he looked as flustered as ever. "No me lo puedo creer." Miguel blew at the bubbles that settled on his face. "I'm no dog who needs a bath, cariño."
Shaking your head at his rare childish antics, you leaned over the tub to kiss the bubbles upon his nose. It was a sweet, domestic little moment between the two of you.
Small little scars littered his form as you glided a soft wash cloth over the grime of the city that washed off onto him. When the fabric slid over a sensitive muscle or wound, he'd hiss a curse and a "be gentle with me, love." You only responded with a lick into his mouth, which earned you a bite to your lips. "I'm not trying to hurt you, just wanna take care of you, my angel." You whispered into the bubbles, shuffling your knees the closest you can to the tub without falling into it– and massaged the tension in his shoulders.
This elicited a groan to rip through the bathroom walls, a low rumble that he couldn't contain to himself following. Miguel was like a domesticated tiger, all bark and bite yet the rare moments of silly tenderness peeking through his rough exterior. "Ah, that feels–" Miguel hisses again in pleasure, his brain short circuiting under your graze. ".. increíble. Tú eres mi medicina."
His forearm hanging off the side of the tub twisted to bring his grasp to your face, locking the both of you into a heated kiss, one that stored the unspoken words of lonely nights as Miguel's shifts grew longer and more tiresome. "Missed you, baby. I need you, need you always with me. Wouldn't know what to do without you, I'd go crazy." He rambled as one of your soap filled hands snaked into his hair, to lather his curls and simultaneously scratch where he loves.
It was an endearing sight whenever Miguel openly expressed his adoration of you, both his thoughts and worries.
"I love you more, Miguel." You giggled as his nose scrunched together at the abrupt sensation of water cascading over his head, the bubbles falling from the softness of his hair and down the ridges of his jaw and nose.
Silence comfortably enveloped the two of you as you rinsed him off, scattering kisses on his skin whenever he mumbled declarations of affection.
As you wrapped his curls in a soft, small towel, his sleepy grumble of a question caught your attention. "What about your little sweets, mi amor? Do you need me to help you finish them?"
Laughing, you shook your head only to shush him softly. "No, no baby. Let's just do it together tomorrow once you get some rest." Leading him to stand, you began draining the tub.
Miguel didn't argue with the idea of that, purring softly as he imagined the two of you frosting little delicacies– something incredibly cozy and lovely. He loved that about you, the way you reminded him about his own humanity, the little hanging reminder that he needs his own time to help to heal and thrive.
"All done, baby." You slid your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest with a sigh. The towel hung around his waist was as soft as the fleece of a sheep, lulling you into the serene sleepiness your body craved to have. "How was your bubble bath?" The words tumbled from your lips as Miguel led the both of you to your shared bed, tucking you into the bundle of blankets scattering about.
Before long, he slid into the opposite side with his own sigh of relief. Your hands grabbed at his now clothed chest, peeking at his exhausted, but content expression staring right back at your own. "Perfect, mi conejito." Miguel whispered with honesty, bringing you closer than ever as his breath fanned the crook of your neck.
Sleep began to take you as the strong scent of bubblegum flooded your senses, the slightly damp curls of Miguel tickling your neck and cheek. He intertwined his soul with yours, purring with a calm he could only achieve with you.
"Cupcakes tomorrow?" You murmured into his shoulder, soft and sleepy.
"Cupcakes tomorrow, cariño." A kiss to your neck. "Dulces sueños, goodnight."
#miguel o'hara#into the spider verse#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara x reader#spiderman 2099#miguel o'hara comfort#miguel o'hara fluff#x gender neutral reader#x fluff#x comfort#comfort#fluff
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lavender haze | lee know. smut.
Your boyfriend is not prone to communicating his feelings through words, but luckily for him, you always know exactly what he needs. (1.9k words)
CONTENT: smut, boyfriend!lino, creampie, unprotected sex and cum eating. minors and empty blogs do not interact.
© all rights reserved. i do not allow reposting and/or translations of my work.
Contrary to popular belief, Minho sulks often. You do understand why people would believe that isn’t the case—your boyfriend’s dry jokes followed by a sarcastic smile being one of the reasons why you were drawn to him in the first place. When you first met him a couple years back, when he was still doing busking events with his dance crew alongside a common friend of yours, you’d watch in doe-eyed adoration as he’d flash his bunny teeth in a playful grin to his crewmates each time they got one move slightly wrong. What pissed them off the most is they could never get back at Minho—he never forgot any moves, never missed a beat. His justifiable confidence made him oh so irritating—you were attracted like moth to a flame to his character, his knife-sharp features matching his equally piercing sense of humour were fuel to the fire.
But the thing about your boyfriend's sulking is that it is often unjustifiable. Of course he doesn't need a reason to want to be pampered by you, but it'd be nice if Minho admitted he also likes to be taken care of at least once in a while.
“What did I do to deserve this torture?” The ever so intimidating choreographer mumbles from his spot on your bed, your pastel pink pillowcases being a little counterproductive to the assertive tone he's been trying to use on you.
Minho can’t suppress the smirk forming on his lips at your scoff, “Torture? I'm just asking you to wait! These bedsheets got here like, two weeks ago!” You're on your feet, struggling to fold one of the new huge linens to store in your closet. “If they stay in these bags any longer they're gonna start smelling weird.”
“You know that's not how it works, right?”
“I don't care. You know you should be helping me, right?” You look back, a smirk of your own automatically taking place when your eyes find his.
Despite the lopsided smile that seems to be permanently plastered on his face, Minho grunts as he drags his body out of the comforter and towards you, “You know you should wash these before putting them away, right?”
And as soon as your eyebrows raise and he sees the very familiar smile on your lips as you push the sheet into his arms, your boyfriend realizes he fell right into your trap, “Have it your way, then!”
The man watches as you jump in bed, getting comfortable on the spot he previously was—eyes filled with the similar overwhelming fondness they usually hold when Minho looks at you. “You’re annoying.” He takes off the rest of the sheeting from it’s flimsy plastic bags, making his way to the laundry room. “Don’t fall asleep!” He exclaims from the hallway.
“I’m not making any promises!”
“Don’t sleep! I wanna spend time with you!” Unfortunately, no amount of stubbornness can take away Minho's super power of having you giggling into your pillow. He wants to spend time with you. He's the love of your life and he wants to spend time with you.
Those are the feelings you can't quite understand. You’ve been with Minho for so long—at least long enough you've been through the “honeymoon stage” everyone seems to fear the ending of. For you, it feels like this stage never seems to be over. You pray it never ends.
So here you are, kicking your feet because your long term boyfriend said he wants to spend time with you. At least you know he's as obsessive as you are, if not slightly more.
Minho's way of showering you with love was overwhelming. He isn't the type to communicate his feelings through words, instead, he'd do things like casually tell you about getting into a rather serious argument with his manager, trying to get the day off so he’d spend your birthday with you. Of course he would be busy, cooking your favourite meal as he casually narrates the dramatics him and his group went through trying to get his needs respected. He doesn't look you in the eye when he says he got emotional, the only reason why his manager gave in being Minho “never behaved like this before”. This is his way of saying you're his utmost priority, can't you tell? The redness of his ears and fidgety eyes are a big hint of the nervousness Minho prayed you wouldn't pick up on. Unfortunately for him, you know him like the back of your hand.
You know that a quick glance your way means someone said something he found amusing in a way. If his hand fell to your lower back in social gatherings, it means Minho is a bit nervous and needs some grounding. If he's too silent, you know to sit beside him and wait until it all comes pouring out. With you, it always does. If he's vocalizing how tired he is, you know he'd enjoy talking for hours on end about anything that comes to his mind. Minho always needs you, he just has very specific patterns to show you exactly what he's currently craving from you. Fortunately for him, he's your favourite subject matter. He's the only thing you ever want to pay attention to—the sole owner of your entire focus.
That's why you know exactly what he needs when he flops back on the bed, and after a few moments of silence, blurts out “I miss you. I missed you a lot this week."
You crawl out of your nest and straddle your boyfriend's lap, dragging your comforter along and covering you both with it.
You're both silent as you hold his cheeks, taking your time as you kiss them, then his forehead, and the mole on his nose—at least a couple times each. Minho's hand slides down your lower back when your lips find his, tongue slowly tasting his as you feel his heart beating tranquilly against the palm of your hand sliding up and down his chest. You feel his right hand gently cupping the back of your neck, holding you close against him as the other sneaked under your shirt, slowly caressing your bare back.
Minho doesn't try to take control of the kiss like he usually does—neither do you. Your bodies seem to move in harmony, the glacial movements of his tongue making you sigh against his mouth every now and again, promptly resulting in a smirk of his. You loved kissing his smile.
“Missed you so much, baby.” He repeated softly against your lips. Minho now had both hands under your shirt, his touch leaving goosebumps as he caressed up and down your sides.
“Missed you too. Always miss you so much, Min.” Your breathing is a bit compromised now, hands moving on their own as you remove your own shirt.
Minho quickly follows, his palms back on your hips as soon as his shirt is tossed to the side. “I know you do, pretty. I know.”
His hands lay on your ass, groping as he whispers against your lips. “Spent the entire week thinking about fucking you. Gonna lay on your side for me, pretty? Hm? Gonna do it just how I like it?”
Too much, too much, too much. You don't think you're really moaning anymore, but you're sure your mouth's been hanging open for a while. Minho’s hips are slow as he hits the deepest parts of you, holding your squirming body for a few seconds each time he bottoms out. The sweet, lazy drag of his cock inside you make your lust disable all of your senses. He felt heavy, thick, so deep inside you. Full. You felt so, so full.
Somewhere in the haze you feel his palms making their way towards your chest, you process a bit of squirming as he squeezes them, massaging your breasts as he continued his torturously slow assault on your g-spot.
Minho can feel every cell fighting against his urge to mount and pump into you as fast as he pleases, but he'd endure anything if it means he gets to hear your drawn out whines as he rocks his hips back and forth, your entire body shivering every time he pauses deep inside of you for a few moments.
He runs his hand through the goosebumps of your arms and back to your chest again. After feeling you up a bit more, your boyfriend takes your hand and drags it south as he presses on your lower stomach, making you feel him moving inside you.
“You're feeling how good I fill you up, honey? Can you feel it?” His breathing is much more ragged now, Minho's body is visibly shuddering behind you as well. You squeeze around and him, bringing his hips to a stop.
You look back, staring at his open mouth as you inhale each other's heavy breaths. As if snapped out of a trance, Minho kisses you roughly. He swallows each of your moans when his hips start swaying back and forth again, still as slow and rough as he was.
His hand leaves yours as he reaches for your chin, spit dribbling down your lips.
“So fucked out you're drooling for me. God, you're so good, baby. You take it so good.”
“Holy shit, Minho! So close, so close, so close-” Your voice is no longer a whisper as it's pitch gets higher, your orgasm dangling in front of you in a fever dream. You feel him everywhere and it's almost too much, but certainly not enough. You're so overstimulated you don't know what to focus on to reach your high—both your senses and judgment so clouded you can't muster the brainpower to figure out what you need.
Luckily for you, Minho knows you like the back of his hand. “I love you. Love you so much.”
You can't tell how long it lasts, you're barely able to process Minho coming inside you. You feel the ghost of his hands holding your hips still as he whimpers in your ear—the sound alone making you shiver all over again. Your body shakes in his hold, limbs giving out after a prolonged orgasm you're not used to experiencing.
“Love you too… Love you so much…” The words mindlessly escape your lips as your head slowly sways, fingers twirling the ends of your splayed out hair.
Your eyes are closed as he lays you on your back, adjusting the pillow under your head as he chuckles. “Love you too, pretty. Hang in there just a second.”
You feel his hands caressing your body as he handles you, a sixth sense making you chuckle when you realize he spread your legs but didn't start cleaning you up.
His hands run down your thighs, you can hear the smirk on his voice. “What's up?”
“Stop staring.” You say, humming with your eyes still closed.
“Don't wanna.” You feel his fingers sliding through your core. “Mouth wide open for me, baby. Come on.”
You sigh when you get a taste of his coated fingers, lips wrapping around as your tongue licks in between them. You open your eyes to find him hovering above you, eyes fix in your mouth.
The look you give Minho makes him dizzy—the way you stare up at him with your big doe eyes in such adoration while sucking cum off his fingers almost made his heart burst. He can feel how each beat of it belongs to you, his heartbeat chained to a rhythm that followed your own.
Chest to chest, Minho watches as your eyes sparkle, your hand softly stroking the back of his head. A smile forms on your lips when you pop his fingers out of your mouth as you breathily mutter against them. “You know I'm gonna marry you someday, right?”
#excuse the fic “”“cover#if u can even call it that#im too lazy to make them so thats what u can expect from me lolz#skz smut#stray kids imagines#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#lee know x reader#lee know smut#lee minho smut#skz imagines#lee know imagines#skz x y/n#skz x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids x y/n
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imagine reader has an oral fixation and toji (or any jjk man) lets her suck on his dick to calm herself down
✩ ˛˚ . FUSHIGURO TOJI — your glad toji is there to always help you let off some steam.
ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, m!receiving oral, he grabs your hair but no particular colour / texture mentioned. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hiii nonnie, i went with toji since he was the one u mentioned + i gotta get used to writing him :3 <3
it takes toji off guard the way you slam the door as you enter back into your apartment, you’ve had a particularly pissy day at work— your co-workers driving you crazy, an ever increasing workload. you’re so glad today is over; but not before you let off some steam.
“god damn, princess. who pissed you off?” he grunts from where hes sprawled out on your couch, sweatpants low on his hips as he scratches at his bare abdomen. hes got the tv on particularly loud, but he can still barely hear it with the way you stomp your way into the living room, standing infront of the screen a few moments later as his lips downturn.
“huh?” toji grumbles as he tries to look around you, clicking his tongue when he comes up unsuccessful. your hands are on your hips and the frown you’re wearing looks a little misplaced on your pretty features— he’s gotten used to it at this point though, he sees it a little too often.
“fuck sake. you good?” he begins but the sigh you let out cuts him off as he lets his cheek rest on his fist.
“shutup, just let me do this.” you finally speak but your words are so cold they almost cut through him as you take a few steps towards him, eagerly pushing your way between his thighs before your fingers are immediately reaching for the waistband of his sweats.
“oh yeah? don’t be so impatient. shoulda just said so.” toji grins as he helps you with the fabric, the sexual freedom feels nice and he’s already half hard, heavy cock resting against his muscled thigh like he’s been waiting— he always thought you were hot when you were pissed off.
you pull a low crooning growl from the man above you as you experimentally drag your tongue up the length of his thick cock, his fist wrapping in your hair gently as he watches you bob your head slowly up and down. you relax your throat for the push of him before you gag lightly and he pulls you back with a hiss, watching you slurp at the blunt head as he gazes at you through dark, lust blown eyes.
toji watches you blink away your own tears to look back at him, frown still lacing your brows as he sends you a lopsided smirk.
“atta girl, can let off all the fuckin’ steam you want.”
he drawls as his hips twitch up, pushing his cock back between your lips as you suckle at the sensitive tip, smoothing your tongue along the precum gathered there as he lounges back against the couch. his jaw is slack, lips parted and eyes heavy while he smoothes his free hand through his already mused dark hair.
“can do better than that, princess. thought you wanted to feel better?” toji’s fingers tighten in your hair and you allow your neck to go lax, allowing him to guide your movements as he rolls his hips into your waiting mouth, allowing his cock to push down your throat with another breathless growl.
his thick thighs spreading wider to allow him to push you deeper while his fingers flex tightly into your scalp, earning a whine from you that only causes his cock to thicken and throb as your lips stretch around him. but you already feel the tension in your shoulders begin melting away with the weight of him on your tongue.
“feels better already, do’nt it?”
© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#toji x reader#toji smut#toji x you#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji smut#fushiguro toji x you
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