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topknot32 · 4 months

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Girl Dad (2/2)

Rio/OFC

summary- Rio sees his pregnant ex-girlfriend out one night not long after their breakup. He seizes the opportunity, and tries to persuade her to let him be in his kid's life, and hers, too.

warnings- 18+. Smut below the cut

word count- 3.4K

CAMILA

The smell of cigarette smoke had always been a turn off for Camila, always. Until she met Rio. Now, the smell of menthol and cedar wood cologne were comforts. The combination was entirely Christopher, and she breathed it in as he held her in the middle of the restaurant without a care who saw them.

She could blame it on hormones all she wanted, but in truth, she missed him. The few weeks they spent being consumed by one another were some of the best she ever had. There were several moments in their affair when she believed it could be something real, that he might not be the stereotype she'd originally labeled him as.

But every time she opened her mouth to tell her friends and family, something held her back. It was the lifestyle. The unpredictable and dangerous way he lived his life when they weren't together. Christopher had never involved her in his business, but she wasn't stupid or naive.

Camila understood the money he earned to buy luxury vehicles and expensive jewelry wasn't brought in by honest means. That part didn't bother her, no. The part that did was the danger it posed to him. He'd been shot, he told her so, and she'd seen the scars. She was a nurse, she knew what the three healed wounds on his chest were before he even said the words. Getting attached to someone who could end up getting themselves killed was terrifying no matter how much she enjoyed his company and getting pregnant by him was equally so.

When she looked up as he held her, she forgot all of that. He stared down at her with the kind of intensity that made butterflies take flight in her stomach, and she chanced a glance down at his lips. When Christopher put all his attention on her, no one else existed.

"Sorry for the waterworks. I always thought pregnancy hormones were an over dramatization, but nope. They are, in fact, very real."

"You good?" he asked after brushing away the remaining tears from her cheeks. She nodded just as the waitress came over with her salad.

Camila straightened up, and Chris released her, but he didn't retreat. He stayed on her side of the booth while she ate, an arm thrown up behind her on the back of the seat.

The winds seemed to have shifted between them since his apology. She didn't feel as angry, and he didn't seem as arrogant or confrontational. It didn't feel awkward between the two, and a comfortable kind of silence settled over them.

When Camila was finished, Chris brushed a few fallen strands of hair behind her ear. "Come home with me," he said softly, sending a chill down her spine.

She avoided looking at him because the second she did, she'd cave. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

He looks irresistible, she thought. "It's just not."

"Please."

The way that one word left his lips pulled her gaze. She could get lost in his brown eyes, and she nearly did. He gave her one of those up and down glances that made her breathe quicken, the kind he snuck so quickly she wasn't even sure if she really saw it.

"I don't—"

"Don't fight me. We don't have to do anything. That's not what this is." He motioned between them with a silver ringed hand. "Let me take care of you. It's the least I can do."

"I have to work early," she tried, but he brushed that off before she'd barely gotten the words out.

"I'll have you tucked in before midnight. Come on."

Chris pulled out his wallet and threw down a few bills, then pulled out his beanie and slid it on. He was always a good tipper, having sympathy for people in the service industry. She admired him for it. Wealth hadn't made him selfish, at least not in that aspect.

He helped her out of the booth, holding her hand like a gentleman. His black SUV was parked on the street just a block away, and once they were inside, he turned up the heat for her sake, knowing how much she hated to be cold. It was a warm cocoon that smelled like him, enveloping her in a sense of calm and safety she hadn't felt since she ended their relationship.

Rap music played quietly, not too loud to interrupt a conversation if she wanted to start one, and it seemed like he was waiting for just that. His fingers tapped a soft beat on the steering wheel as he drove, and he glanced her way every so often.

"I don't want you to pay for things," she said after a while. Chris looked over, a frown forming. "You said you wanted to help, to pay for stuff for the baby."

“And that’s a problem?”

Camila took in a deep, shaky breath. "I don't want to be a single mom, to do all of this alone." She shifted a little in her seat to see him better. She could tell by the tension in his jawline he didn't like the words coming out of her mouth. "Did you mean what you said, about Beth?"

He laughed, a sarcastic kind of laugh. She hated it. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. I figured you knew that by now."

"If she's nothing to you, then do this with me. I don't want your money, I can do that myself. I want you in it, too. All the way. Like, up all night, no sleep, covered in puke all the way."

The sarcastic humor vanished as he processed. He looked over at her, then back at the road. "You're serious?"

"I'm not saying I want to get back together, but I need you, Christopher."

"You have me," he said softly, reaching over to take her hand. "I promise."

Inside his apartment, Christopher pulled his jacket off, heading for the bedroom. Camila always loved his place. The open concept, the warm touches of wood and leather, the photographs.

"Strip," he said, dragging his sweatshirt off next. With his back to her, she admired the newly exposed tan skin, the muscles rippling as he moved. She loved the way his jeans hung on his hips.

She had to drag her eyes away from the lines of his hip bones. "I'm not sleeping with you."

He looked back over his shoulder, hands reaching for his belt buckle. "I'm a grown man, Camila. I can see you naked and not have to fuck. Do what I said."

He disappeared around the corner into the bathroom where she heard the sound of the shower turning on. Her stomach did a nervous flip, but she was happy to be here. She kicked off her shoes and pulled her own sweatshirt off, leaving her in jeans and a lace bralette in her favorite shade of lavender.

He was already in the shower by the time she came in. It was a massive glass box of smooth, black tile with two shower heads, one on each side. His back was to her as she unfastened her jeans and pushed them down along with her panties, then stripped off the bralette, leaving her naked. Next, Camila pulled the hair tie from her hair and let it fall. The steamy air in the bathroom felt like heaven on her skin, the tense muscles in her neck and shoulders already loosening.

When she stepped into the shower, Christopher glanced at her with heavy eyes, drinking her in slowly, like it was the first time, but he kept his distance. She liked the way he looked at her, like she was something rare and special to behold. He turned so he could see her better, but they stayed beneath their separate sprays.

While Camila washed her hair, she snuck a few glances at his perfectly tan, tattooed body. If he saw, he didn't make it known, or at least he didn't chastise her for it. She could admire him for hours and not get tired of the view. With an internal scolding, she turned so he was out of her line of sight.

She found her thoughts drifting to a very similar scene, but a different time. A series of many different times in this very room when there was no space between them, just skin on skin, his long fingers tangled in her hair, lips exploring every single inch of her body. When desire was the ruler of her emotions.

Fingertips brushing the wet hair off the back of her neck and over her shoulder yanked Camila back to now, and her heart nearly stopped. Christopher was standing beneath the spray just behind her. She'd been so wrapped up in her thoughts she hadn't even noticed him come over.

"Where you at?" he hummed, pressing his lips to the spot where her neck and shoulder connected.

Camila shivered, hyper aware of how close he was behind her, the heat of his body giving her goosebumps. His fingers ran down her arm where he laced them through hers, pulling her hand up to press a kiss to the center of her palm. The other hand slid around her waist, resting right over her abdomen.

"I was just thinking," she said softly, eyes fluttering closed.

"About what?"

The sound of his voice was enough to make her melt into him, and she found all rational thought disappearing.

"Us."

She felt him chuckle—a slow, sleepy sound as he kissed his way across her shoulder blade. "Quit makin' me ask and say what's on your mind."

Camila turned her head to see him better, and he looked down with half lidded eyes. He was irresistible, water dripping down his face, his focus entirely on her. Surprising even herself, she leaned up and connected their lips, answering his question without words.

Christopher didn't deny her. He kissed her back, deep and slow, eliciting feelings only he knew how to. It was a sensation she'd desperately missed. She tried to turn in his arms, but he held firm, keeping her right where she was. Keeping her under his control. When he pulled back, he released her hand and cupped her cheek.

"Stop it," he whispered, and she blushed, but kept eye contact.

It was a battle of wills. She waited to see if he would kiss her again, and he waited to see what she wanted, what she was thinking. She could feel his cock hardening, pressing into the small of her back, but he made no move to push her further.

"Tell me what you want, Camila," he said, ghosting his lips across hers, but pulling back when she tried to kiss him.

"Christopher—"

"No."

She bit her bottom lip, drawing his eyes down to the movement. Wanting him and asking for it were two different things. In her mind, she wanted him to let go of his restraints, for him to devour her like only he could, but she didn't know how to say that out loud.

Christopher waited patiently, holding her body tight to him, but there was that look in his eye that told her he wanted an answer.

"I want you," she finally whispered, feeling the heat of embarrassment spreading up from her chest.

He grinned. "You have me. All wrapped around your pretty finger."

“You know what I mean."

"You should be really clear because what I think you might mean, you told me wasn't gonna happen."

The hand on her abdomen slipped lower, and her heart jumped into her throat. His fingertips drew shapes just above where she wanted them. She shifted back, connecting their lower bodies firmly, making a sharp breath leave his chest. He was hard as a rock now. Heat pooled in her lower body that had nothing to do with the temperature of the shower.

"Please fuck me," she managed to get out, leaning up to kiss him again, the words vibrating against his mouth. He let her have it this time, slipping his tongue between her lips to tangle with her own.

He nudged her forward toward the shower wall just out of the spray. She nearly cried with relief. Christopher took her hand again, raising it to rest against the tile, his covering hers as his other finally dipped between her legs, brushing over her clit, making her shudder.

She pulled away from his lips, dropping her forehead and resting it against the tile. His fingers worked over her dripping pussy, mouth dropping to her shoulder, teeth grazing the skin there. It was everything she'd been daydreaming about, but everything she said she wouldn't do if she came here. And yet she needed it, needed him.

He moved his hand lower, slipping a finger inside her, and the groan that came from his lips could've made her come right on the spot. He added a second finger and pumped them slow and torturous. It felt like heaven, but it wasn't enough.

"Please," she begged, resting her other hand on the tile, lips parting when his fingers curled in a way that made her cry out.

"Fuck, Camila." He removed his fingers and used his knee to knock her thighs wider apart. The thought that he was as eager as she was made her body flush even more. He used his free hand to guide his cock to her entrance, and pushed inside.

She tried to pull her hand under his free from the wall, but he held her there, forcing the other one up, caging her in, sinking himself deeper inside her. He stayed like that for what felt like forever, letting her body adjust to him by just barely pulsing in and out of her as he kissed every inch of skin he could reach. After tormenting her for several agonizing moments, his hips moved quicker, body pressing flat against hers.

"Your pussy feels so goddamn good, baby," he whispered in her ear, making her legs turn to jelly as he fucked her. "I missed this, I missed you."

He finally let her hands go, running one up her body to squeeze one of her breasts, brushing over her nipple with his thumb. It sent shocks of electricity straight between her legs, and she gasped, chin dropping to her chest.

Christopher leaned forward and kissed her jaw, teeth nipping at the skin. "Did you miss me, too?"

"Yes." She could barely form words. His cock stroked magic along her walls, his thrusts forceful and fast enough to make her lose her breath.

His hand moved back down between her legs, circling her clit with expert precision. "Tell me."

"Yes, I missed you," she gasped, latching onto his forearm and digging her nails in hard enough to leave indents. A ball of pleasure had begun to form in her lower body.

"I want you to come for me, baby,"

She moaned his name, unable to hold it in at his encouragement, the sound of his hips snapping against hers making her tremble. He took her chin in his other hand and forced her to look up at him, to meet his gaze. She could feel herself falling apart, and by the way he stared down at her, he liked the mess he'd made. Her eyes fluttered closed as she reached the precipice, so close to tipping over the edge into sheer bliss.

"Look at me," he whispered, his own pleasure thick in his voice. She opened her eyes, her lips parting as the hunger in his voice made the ball of pleasure explode.

The orgasm took her breath away, snatching it right from her chest, but Christopher held her tight and fucked her through it, not giving her an inch of space to pull back. It went on for what felt like forever, sapping every ounce of energy from her, and she was grateful for his grip or she would've dropped like a stone.

Just as hers was dissipating, his hit him full force, and she gazed up at him with heavy, satiated eyes. She loved the way his own eyes closed, his mouth dropping open, breath hitching in his chest. When Christopher opened his eyes again, he stole a kiss, his cock softening inside her. He pulled out and rested his forehead against her shoulder to catch his breath.

The water was still running hot, and Camila had to thank whoever installed the water heater in his building. When her legs felt steady enough, she pulled out of his hold and moved back under the spray, washing away the sweat and come from her skin. Christopher watched her with a half smirk, looking satisfied.

He joined her under the spray, pressing a hand to the tiny bump of her abdomen, the other running up from her ass to the cradle back of her neck. "Boy or girl," he asked.

It was a question she'd pondered for hours and hours over the last few weeks. Who would this little life be?

"Girl," she finally said, leaning up to kiss him. "You've got 'girl dad' in your DNA."

Christopher laughed, the smile covering his entire face, and Camila couldn't help but be smitten. "Why would you wish that on me? A lifetime of ass beatings and threats."

"Come on, I'm getting wrinkly."

Camila stepped out of the shower on shaky legs, Christopher right behind. She slipped into a robe on the hook on the wall and brushed her fingers through her hair, looking herself over in the mirror. He came to stand behind her, a towel tied around his waist.

He watched her as she pulled bottles from the cabinets—facial serum and moisturizers she'd stocked here when they were together. It warmed her heart to find them right where she left them, completely untouched like he knew she would be back.

"So, a girl, huh?" he asked, and she met his gaze in the mirror.

"I hope so."

He smiled, but shook his head. "I guess I should start prayin' now. I got a lot of bad karma just waitin' to rain down on my head."

"Hey, it's going to be okay either way."

He took a step forward and hugged her from behind, squeezing her tight and pressing a kiss to her temple. "Yeah, we will."

Finally, while she was putting lotion on her legs, he walked out of the bathroom, leaving her to finish getting ready for bed in a peaceful silence. By the time she was finished, Christopher had changed into sweats and pulled down the covers on the bed. He was putting on deodorant when she came back in.

"Get in bed, mama," he said, turning out the lights, leaving them in near darkness except for the city lights shining in through the enormous windows.

Camila thought the way he demanded nearly everything in life would get under her skin and drive them apart, but after the last few weeks of work without him around, she relished the way she could turn her mind off. It made her feel cozy and warm inside.

She slid between the sheets on her side of the bed, and he followed after adjusting the thermostat and closing the door. They laid beside each other for a while without speaking until he broke the silence.

"See, tucked in before midnight," he said, and she could hear the smirk without even seeing his face.

"I do believe I said coming home with you was a bad idea, though, and I was right."

He laughed. "My intentions were pure, I promise. You were the poor influence."

She reached out and swatted at his chest. Christopher snatched her up by the wrist and dragged her into his chest. She wound her arms around his waist and pressed a kiss to one of the scars on his chest—the bullet wound that'd pierced through to his lung. The one that nearly killed him.

"I want you to fire her," Camila said softly.

"What?"

She sat up a little so she could see his face. "Beth. She almost killed you once. She should never get the chance to try again."

The wheels turned inside his head, she could see it as he held her gaze. "You gonna stick around this time?"

"I'm here aren't I?"

"You gonna keep me a secret?" One of his eyebrows cocked curiously. "I give a little, you give a little, sweetheart." He brushed a finger over her bottom lip.

"No, you won't be a secret."

Christopher kissed her softly. "Good."

#rio good girls #manny mayans #manny montana #beth boland #annie marks #netflix good girls #good girls fic #rio fic #Spotify

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lyrakanefanatic · 8 days

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KLEAAAAA OMG CONGRATS ON 250 BABES YOU DESERVE IT SO MUCH <333333

to start off my crusade may i req

🍂 for gigi (i love her sm)

AHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH BABES ILYYY!!! <333 💗💗

AND OFC!!! 🫶🫶

GIGI GRAYSON HEAD CANONS:

• her cat phase started in grade 2 when she went over to a friends house and FELL IN LOVE with her friends pet cat. like there were times where she visited just so she could chill and hang out with the cat 😭😭

• she’s the type of person to like adding 194828844 add ons to her coffee. yes, she wants cold foam. yes, she wants sweeteners. yes, she wants syrups. yes, she wants whipped cream. yes-

• can’t sing to save her life and got banned from family karaoke at one point (by savannah cuz she couldn’t take it anymore ☠️)

• used to have long hair but that kind of became “savannahs thing”, so to differentiate herself from her, gigi chopped it short and kept it that way :/

• she used to wish on every candle till she was like 13 that she could have powers like matilda 😭😭

• whenever she goes out with grayson she always demands to go to cafes, because whenever grayson tells her she can’t drink coffee (in front of the waiter), gigi just pretends he’s her abusive boyfriend (grayson just gave up and now just watches with this “😒” expression on his face as she orders her sweet ass coffee)

• she goes all out for halloween and each year she makes her costume herself

• she can’t cry without feeling guilty. she doesn’t know why, but she feels like she owes it to everybody else (esp her father before he died) to remain the happy and bright girl as she “always” is :(

• she was inspired by gilmore girls and, one year on her birthday, acacia and her made a cake that was 90% frosting and 10% cake (and she felt so special because it was JUST as good in concept as in execution)

• as soon as the candy salad trend became a thing, gigi immediately took part in it, except she did a “haribo” gummies salad bc those r her fav gummies :)

• ever since she was little she always liked to use big words in her vocabulary, even if she didn’t fully understand what they meant, because it helped her express herself better + a small part of her believed that it made her look smarter than sav (bc even if she doesn’t like to admit it, gigi tends to be jealous of her.)

• had a roller skating phase when she was 11 and bc of that she had scuffed up knees in every photo for like a year LMFAO ☠️ (scratched, bloody, bruised… you name it)

OKAY THATS ALL THANK U SM FOR THE ASKK!! 💗💗<33

#250 followers event #250 followers #gigi grayson #savannah grayson #grayson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the grandest game #the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #libby grambs #phone girl #maxine liu #headcanon

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craftykittyscientist · 6 months

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DAILY CLICK FOR PALESTINE

asks will be turned off while i’m at school! but while they’re off, you’re always free to message me! don’t expect an immediate reply though!

https://gofund.me/a2df2ef6

https://gofund.me/6b57458c

https://gofund.me/a2df2ef6

hi :3

this is a introductory post!

☆ | name: puff

☆ | pronouns: he/it/dna

♡ | likes: kirby, mario, 2000s horror media, henry eats, salad fingers, nyan cat, prettyblood, biology, pokémon, drawing, etc. :3

♡ | boundaries: i’m not looking for friends so don’t ask me to be your friend, don’t post my art without credit, spam liking is okay! ily spam likers <3, don’t call me cheeto puff it makes me really uncomfortable because of personal reasons, and please don’t spam my inbox with asks.

♡ | DNI: bigots, problematic people, mike, reese, ryzen, selfcest shippers, proshitters, comshitters, kpop stans, dream stand, allistic hazbin hotel fans, allistic helluva boss fans, people who support vivziepop, zionists, nazis, anti furry, anti therian, lesboys, gay girls, just don’t be a weirdo or a horrible person.

i am also 15 so please don’t be weird

♡ | dms: my dms aren’t open to anyone except my friends

♡ | rp accounts - @nerve-brain666, @ask-cozy-islanders, @gummy-creature-melody

♡ | artfight account: @amoebagore

here is my pronouns page!

(intro template created by im_a_fox5845 on discord and divider is by eimogji on tumblr)

below is my kirbysona and my persona <3

#my art #intro post #introduction #queer #queer artist #kirbysona #my persona #silly

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late-to-the-party-81 · 1 year

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Needy

Request: Or, or! Lately, I have been plagued by the thought of a pouty, needy Thor 🥺❤️

He just wants to stay in with his girl, but she’s got errands to run and places to be, so Thor just sits around pouting, and waiting for her 😔

He goes from straight up begging her to stay, possibly in his knees, to sending her some ~spicy~ videos and pics while she’s gone, trying to lure her home again 😈

When she finally gets home, the big, soft bear that he is, he just envelops her, grabs her and holds her 🥺 Maybe he sits her on his cock, rubbing against her like a cat and purring, and refusing to let go until he falls asleep ❤️

AN: Thank you @lauratang - I’ve tackled your second suggestion first. I hope you enjoy the neediness… I’ve decided this is the same pairing as in my Kinktober 22 fic, Food for thought

Beta’d by @flordeamatista

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and mood board by me.

Masterlist

Summary: Thor is a needy menace.

Relationship: Thor x Agent!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

CW: Needy Thor, suggestive language, sexting, masturbation, dirty talk, cock-warming, fluff

“But I want you to stay…”

Oh god, the pathetic way those words came out of his mouth. It was both amusing and endearing at the same time. Unfortunately you didn’t have the time to indulge him, no matter how much you might want to.

“Thor. Stop it, you big baby. I told you. I have a shift to do and, because you keep eating me out of house and home, I need to stop at the compound store on the way in because there is nothing for me to take for lunch.”

He at least had the good grace to look chagrined at your retort, but it didn’t lessen his pout any.

“I will go to the store for you, Skatt. Just stay here with me and I will buy you all the jaffa cookies…”

“Cakes…”

“...Jaffa cakes you like. I will peel them and feed them to you.” He stalked closer to you, blue eyes narrowed, and you giggled as you stepped back, trapped against the hall wall. He lent forward, arms braced either side of your head, his hair swinging in both your faces. “I’ll even do that thing you like…”

With a giggle you ducked under his arm, and gave a slap to his ass.

“Cool it, hot stuff. There’ll be time for that later. I have to go.”

Your giggle turned into a full on laugh when he grabbed your hand and dropped to his knees in front of you. He pushed up your top and pressed his face to your stomach, littering it with kisses.

“But I might be dead later. How do I go on living without you here? I need you, little one. There is no air without you.”

“Okay, cool it, Shakespeare.” Leaning over you pressed a kiss to his mouth and the another to his forehead, somehow extricating your hand from his in the process. “I’ll be back before you know it. Now, sit. Stay.”

You slipped out of the door, shaking your head with a smile on your face.

Your God of a boyfriend was so sappy sometimes.

You were in the middle of a meeting, your team leader droning on about mandatory refresher training, reading aloud from their sloppy powerpoint presentation, when you felt the buzz of your phone in your pocket.

Surreptitiously you pulled it out and glanced down

Thor: I miss you, kjære. What are you doing?

You weren’t really in a position to answer him, so you turned your phone over and rested it in your lap under the table.

Buzz

Stifling a sigh you flipped it over again.

Thor: I’m so lonely without you 🥺🥺😭❤️

Buzz

Thor: When do you get home?

You decided to risk it, and started tapping away, glancing back up every few characters.

You: in a meeting. Home at 4. Read a book/have a nap. Speak later. xoxo

You turned the vibrate alert off and slipped your phone back in your pocket, turning your attention back to the meeting. Supporting the Avengers in keeping the earth safe definitely wasn’t all glamour and parades. Sometimes it was lame Powerpoint presentations…

When your meeting finally finished you were glad that it was lunch time. You’d managed to pick up an overpriced packaged salad at the store on your way in and were looking forward to tucking in, but first you needed to go to the washroom.

After you dried your hands, you remembered your phone so as you exited the washroom, hand on the door, you pulled it from your pocket. The screen lit up as you touched it, showing a litany of messages. You rolled your eyes and stopped in the hallway outside the washroom, leaning on the wall as you opened your texts… and then immediately pressed the screen to your chest, looking around furtively to make sure that no-one had caught a glimpse of your screen. Luckily the corridor was empty.

With more aplomb than you ever thought you’d had, you made your way down the hall to the closest empty conference room. You bolted inside, turned the lock and pulled the window shades so you couldn’t be observed. Your body sank into one of the conference chairs, and with trembling hands pulled your phone away from your shirt.

First was another text.

Thor: I tried to sleep, min skatt, but being on the bed made me think of you.

Then, under that was a picture. It was of Thor’s torso, from the waist down, naked apart from a tight pair of boxer briefs that did nothing to hide the bulge within them.

Thor: I need you to come help me. I ache for you.

The last message was followed by a video thumbnail. Underneath the white play symbol in the middle of the image was Thor’s torso once again. You could feel your heart racing, and your mouth was dry as your thumb inched towards your screen and tapped it.

“I need you, little one.” Thor’s deep voice sounded over your phone speaker, laden with desire and you squeezed your thighs together at the sound of it. He had the camera pointed at his tented briefs, and then his other hand came in shot, stroking and groping over the soft cotton, a light tease. “How could you leave me alone so cruelly, when you know I ache for you every minute of every day? How am I supposed to survive this torture?”

His hand slipped under the waistband of his shorts to take hold of himself, and you watched, transfixed as he started to jerk himself, the tip of his cock poking out of the top of the fabric. Fuck! You could even see a pearl of precum forming in his slit.

With each stroke he exposed more and more of himself to the camera, moaning wantonly and talking dirty to you from behind it.

“Norns, if you were here, kjære, I’d worship you so. I would feast on you, over and over, just to hear you calling my name so loud that all of Midgard and Vahalla would know who was pleasuring you. I need to feel you around my cock. I need your warmth. Your wetness. Hurry home, love.”

The video came to an end and you just sat there, engulfed in a state of confused arousal.

When had Thor learnt how to sext? And how on earth were you supposed to continue with your day knowing that he was waiting at home for you like that? How were you supposed to just sit in the canteen to have your lunch with your pussy pulsing in your now sodden underwear?

Curse Thor!

Curse the handsome bastard to Jotunheim and back.

Somehow you made it through to the end of your shift, although you were obviously distracted, and twice you snuck off to the bathroom, now with your earbuds, to watch the video again. You also managed not to message Thor back, not wanting to give him any reaction that might make matters better worse.

You practically jogged through the main doors and reception of the accommodation part of the compound, swiping your card to access the private elevator and sending it straight to the floor where you stayed with your Asgardian boyfriend. When it stopped, you stepped out, ready to give him a piece of your mind for teasing you all day, but immediately found yourself caught up in a pair of burly arms.

“You’re home! At last!” He pressed kisses all over your face, before capturing your lips.

You squeaked as he hefted you in his arms, his kisses overwhelming your senses.

Before you knew it he was pressing you down onto the bed, his hands shedding you of your clothes. It was when his flesh came into contact with yours that you realised he was already naked. His cock nudged your thigh as one of his hands spread your legs apart, cupping your pussy and teasing your entrance.

“So my little message to you did have an effect.”

You snorted. “Of course it did, you bastard. I was working, not dead… oh fuck!” Your sarcastic retort was cut off as he pressed two fingers into you, stretching you out. As he did so, he continued to kiss up and down your neck, nuzzling into you. You moaned, your lust and arousal overriding your need to chew him out for his antics. Your back arched as you sucked air into your lungs, your body so tantalisingly close to the edge.

Then he pulled his fingers away and you whined.

“Thor!”

“I know, skatt. I know. It’s how I’ve felt all day. But I’ll make it better, really soon.”

He rolled the pair of you onto your sides and hooked your upper leg over his hip, opening you to him, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he pressed his thick cock inside you. His arms wrapped around your body, ensuring there wasn’t even the slightest gap between you. His lips brushed your hair, your temples, your eyelids, and then he kissed your mouth again. You opened to him like a flower in bloom, eager for his impassioned love-making, but when you tried to roll your hips he held them still.

“Relax, little one. You’ve been at work all day. You must be tired. Have a nap, my love.”

Your jaw dropped. “But… but… you… all day… I thought…” A roughened finger covered your lips, silencing you.

“I’m right where I want to be. Where I need to be. And I’ll still be here when you wake up. Then, kjære, I will worship you as I promised. But just give me this, let me enjoy you. Besides, you’ll need your energy for later.”

He continued with his soft kisses and caresses, his cock buried deep within you, and despite your scepticism about your ability to go to sleep with him like that, you soon felt your eyes closing again, your body going lax as slumber started to encase you.

The last thing you heard before sinking into the soft depths was Thor’s voice, gently rumbling in your ear. “I love you, min skatt. You are the most precious treasure in the nine realms.”

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @sidepartskinnyjeans @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @writing-for-marvel

#thor x reader #thor odison x reader #thor x fem!reader #thor odinson x female reader #late writes #fic request #thor odinson fic #thor fic

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aloysiavirgata · 1 year

Note

Hi AV! A prompt for you: rhubarb, pond, watercolor.

Pie plant, her Aunt Olive always called it, and that’s when Scully realized she’d never had rhubarb without strawberries. She started experimenting with it. She cooked it with chicken, pickled it, made cocktail syrups. There was a seemingly endless supply in the garden.

“I like it best in pie,” Mulder admits over a beet and rhubarb salad.

“Better than sweet potato?”

“Scully,” he says, looking offended. “Let’s not be dramatic.”

The pond lay like a dropped mirror in the grass, silver and still in the gloaming.

“Watch,” he whispers. “This is when they come.”

“I still can’t believe you made them meatballs!” she hisses back. “They’re literally famous for eating garbage!”

They come out of the thick tangle of raspberry canes and honeysuckle then, a mother raccoon with four fuzzy babies waddling after in a crooked line.

They snuffle around in the bracken, nosing out the meatballs Mulder set out for them. The little ones watch their mother examine the food in her clever black paws, mimic her scrutiny with their own clumsy hands.

Scully is grinning. “They really are beautiful animals,” she whispers. She laughs softly as one of the babies tumbles sideways into a sibling. They squabble briefly over a meatball.

“Cat monkeys,” Mulder says.

She bumps him in the ribs with her elbow. “What did you name them? And I know you did so don’t lie.”

He sticks his tongue out. “Mom is Judy because she reminds of the woman who used to help us out with car requisitions. Babies are Eeny, Meeny, Miney, and Moe.”

She leans against him, deeply contented as the night world comes alive.

He leaves the painting on the table for her, looks shy when she gasps.

She stares at it, at him, still taken aback at herself in his eyes even after so long. The determined lift of her chin, the long lines of her nose and cheekbones. Does she look like this?

He’s painted her in soft, sun drenched watercolors amid a field of purple irises. Her hair is swept up in a Gibson Girl pompadour and she wears a white Edwardian dress with a wide, sky-blue sash.

“John Singer Sargent should have painted you,” he says, playing with the garlic press. “Waterhouse, Cassatt, someone like that. You have the face for it.”

“I just can’t believe you made this,” she says. “I don’t have an artistic bone in my body.”

He grins, back in familiar territory. “You want one?” he asks.

#xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #my fic #msr #prompt

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petersbaby · 2 years

Text

Some EM headcanons for funsies SFW and NSFW

SFW

- Screams “you motherfucker” when he loses at an arcade game and kicks it but only hurts his toe

- Gets the zoomies like dogs do, running all over the house over and over until he runs out of energy and falls to the ground

- Never fails to get toothpaste on his shirt in the morning

- Would probably join in if he saw some kids playing jump rope

- Same with hopscotch. He loves to hop.

- Uses tuna salad to try to lure and capture stray neighborhood cats + “here kitty kitty” and kissy noises

- Will still eat food that had ants in it. “Extra protein” he says.

- Microwaved ramen noodles without water bc he forgot and blew up the microwave (more than once)

- If he gets a stain on a couch cushion he’ll just flip the cushion over instead of fixing the stain. “There. Like brand new.”

- Would play “just dance” on the wii in 2008

- He grows talons and only trims his toenails once you tell him they fucking scratch you in bed under the blanket

- Practices his rizz on mannequins at the mall until he gets kicked out

- Has 2 pairs of socks and one pair has a hole

- Can’t cook for shit so prefers takeout

NSFW

- Likes his hair pulled, whimpers when it is

- “God, oh god” moaning while jerking off to a thought of you

- “Please” and “thank you” in sexual situations

- Starts to cry when he gets teased for too long

- He loves giving head to both boys and girls, he’s a pro at eating pussy and sucking dick

- Folds his pillow in half and fucks it

- Actually probably fucks literally anything he can get his dick in

- Several boners a day, all day

- Plot twist: the handcuffs are for him. He is not a dom. He has to act like he is to match his style and personality, but once you get alone in a room with him he’s putty in your hands.

- “Mommy”

- Cockwarming

- Forgets to take his rings off until they’ve got cum all over them and it’s too late

- Jerks off in bathrooms at parties and also in his van at night

- Piss kink. I know it. I feel it in my bones.

#eddie munson #eddie munson brainrot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson hcs #eddie munson smut

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that--unusual-person · 1 year

Note

Cosmic anon gets it‼️‼️

There is so much more i would do the Starscream like pick him up with my bare cold hands and shake him like the ginger girl from finding Nemo and force him to watch all Shrek movies while all stars from smash mouth plays in the back non stop. Baking him into a cake is also a great options and the salad spinner with him in is just a great way to stim❤️. Just aggressively making that thing turn around and around. i once broke a salad spinner as a kid because i did it so agressivly breaking the handle and making the spinner fall on the floor and partly breaking into pieces. I imagine Starscream just being a puddle at this point, if so then he goes right back in the jar and then i microwaves him because i wanna know what will happen. if nothing does i would bite his head (lovingly) and rattle him around like a dog with their chew toy, barking while doing so and run around on all four running in circles.

I would squeeze him like those stress toys who's eye pop out dramatically and then throw him on the wall and hope he would stick on it right above my bed, that way when i stare on the celling i can see him before i fall asleep ❤️. Bc he is so cool and awesome he should be the last thing i see when i go into dreamland and also the first thing i see when i wake up❤️.

With the others i can't say my thirst for pathetic meow meows oozes for them. Like Starscream has just this pathetic wet sock, crying in the rain while covered in the mud, hopeing you would take him back as a lover while, i will always love you, plays in the back and you just throw a shoe at him to make him go away. He doesn't tho and looks at you with those big silly eyes, you still take him back because there is just SOMETHING about him you don't find in others, kind of vibe.

He is so pathetic and loving, his dumb stupidity grin that melts your heart while his clownery makes you wanna put him in a potato sack where only his head peaks out and put him in the damp,cold, dark basement. He is so dumb and cute and ratty.

Soundwave is just straight up my loving husband that i would wife up and give all my love without the insanity. The Bot is already dealing with so much he deserves a break and a soft tenderly kiss on the cheek while i tell him how great he is. I would draw him like an old painter draws their lover and muse; full of grace and power, elegance that you don't see anywhere else. The paintings of the time where he still was by my side the only thing reminding me how he looks like while my brain slowly withers away. My mind forgetting how his voice filled my hears like a wonderful song and his touch like the warm rays of the sun. But my heart beating for him and knowing even if i forget how he looks like my it will still remember him. Writing love sick writing poetry about the fuzzy warm feeling i had in the past seeing paintings of this mysterious person i clearly knew in the past. Writing about his beauty that shines from the inside out. Watching the moon, thinking of his dazzling eyes feeling cold and lonely not having him by my side, wishing each day that he would finally be here to fall in love a second time❤️ (but your genius for the things you wrote down).

Same with shockwave, but i have to admit i really wanna bite his mono-boob while skedaddling on his body like an insect. My feelings for shocker is in between of soundwave and Starscream.

I wanna cling on his leg and try to shake him around (knowing it won't happen because he is a THICC BOY). he would need me to put me in those child dog leashes or cages to make me stop fooling around and chewing on him. I would probably just straight up gulp down one of his chemicals to mess with him not caring if i die or grow a third arm. I honestly hope i would be his Starscream ❤️❤️ Him observing me in my silly little jar while i lick the glass like stich at the beginning of the movie❤️

I would be the fluffy cat getting petted sleeping on the lap of the villain as they spin around to face the hero of the story.

Anyway i hope it's obvious I'm very autistic about these three.(apologies for the insane ramblings I'm sleep deprived and ate like 13 chocolate muffins).

-thick shockwave/jar Starscream anon

#transformers #maccadam #soundwave #answer #digital art

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gergthecat · 5 months

Text

You PT 2 - Finian POV Finian/Scarlett

When Scar returns from the hall—Saedii now nowhere to be seen—she has a massive smirk on her face, a welcomed sight. I can’t figure out what’s been stressing her so much, but whatever it is, she doesn’t care anymore, as she tells us that we’re going to pull the prank of the millennium on Tyler.

After a brief run-down of what she’s pulling and a less brief explanation of pranks to Kal, we are all rushing off to our assignments. I’ve been given the most important job: to accompany Scar and Ty and whoever that other girl is (Rachie?) to go shopping. Tyler keeps complaining about how he needs to get back to work, which Scar, ever the genius, uses as an excuse to take Rachie and abandon us in the food court.

Ty sighs as the salad he ordered arrives in front of him and looks off into the crowd. It feels pretty intoxicating to know something he doesn’t for once in my life. His spine straightens as he spots some massive Terran guy bounding towards our table. His contempt is evident on his face for only a moment before he puts on a cordial smile as Guy closes in.

“Hey, Tyler,” Guy slaps his shoulder, unabashedly eyeing me.

“Trent,” Ty nods, clearly not trying to invite him into further conversation.

My new best friend Trent doesn’t get it.

He pulls up a chair from one of the other tables as Ty and I awkwardly drag ours away to make room.

“So,” Trent starts.

“So,” Ty just repeats it, and I can feel the disdain melting off of him.

“How’s your sister doing?”

“She’s good.”

“Good, good,” he nods, looking off at the array of restaurants behind us. “And how ‘bout that other girl, what was it, uh, Katie?”

Tyler frowns, correcting him, “Cat.”

“Right, yes, her.”

“She’s dead.”

I can see as the blood leaves Trent’s face, making him a weird shade of green.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” I can feel how much Tyler wants to roll his eyes.

“Anyway, uh, tell her ‘Hi’ for me. Thanks, Bro.”

“Okay.”

We finish our food without much conversation. I can’t help but notice the differences between Trent and me. I’m tall for a Betraskan, yeah, but Trent had to be at least as tall as Kal. He’s muscular and manly-looking, and his face looks like it could cut you in half and meld you back together again. He’s hot, and worst of all, he’s Scarlett’s ex-boyfriend.

Check me out on AO3 :)

You Part One

Masterlist

#fanfic #the aurora cycle #aurora rising #aurora burning #aurora's end #finian de karran de seel #scarlett jones #saedii gilwraeth #tyler jones

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asirenscream · 6 months

Text

a shrimptastic picnic | wren & felix

TIMING: current

LOCATION: the common.

PARTIES: @asirenscream & @recoveringdreamer

SUMMARY: wren's bad attempt at potato salad leads her to the lions & lambs picnic and felix is kind enough to taste test, until they're interrupted by a man insisting they learn more about the well respected shrimp. a totally normal picnic, right? right!

CONTENT: mentions of the potential of food poisoning.

The Lions and Lambs picnic seemed pretty daunting to Wren. Well, not just because she had to subtly find out that there weren’t actually going to be any lions or lambs, but because of how many people would be there. Standing in the grass of The Common, Wren tried not to sweat too much. Her fingers were gripping the tupperware container she had put her potato salad in. She hadn’t ever made potato salad before, but someone had mentioned how that was a common picnic food. She had taken hours attempting to boil the cubed, unevenly sized potatoes and mixing them into the mayo mustard mixture. The website on The Google she had found said that anyone could put what they wanted in potato salad! The comments were very helpful so Wren threw onions, celery, raisins, and walnuts in it. Hopefully people liked it.

Shifting on her feet, Wren tried to coax up the nerve to approach the crowd of people in The Common there for the picnic. This would be a good way to step over her anxiety and fear of humans—of people in general. Should she have brought forks or spoons? She didn’t own many of them… Or plates. Or bowls. Should she have brought those, too? Oh, she was definitely spiraling now. Brown eyes squeezed shut as Wren tried to take a steady breath and ignore the racing of her heart. Maybe if she pretended people weren’t there for a minute then it’d be okay. It’d be fine. Right? Right!

Wren slowly opened her eyes and tentatively started walking across the grass, the slightest tremor in her form. She accidentally bumped into someone and squeaked, looking up with wide eyes. “Sorry! I’m—wait. I know you, right?” She got out in a rush. She felt like she remembered him from online. “You have the cat? Um, right? I’m not misremembering.” Cats didn’t tend to be birds' biggest fans. Wren hadn’t met a cat before so she wasn’t sure how they’d in turn take to her. “I’m Wren! I think we talked before, hi!”

—

For years, Felix had felt fairly isolated. First, they’d had their father as their well-meaning warden in that house in the woods. Then, there’d been Leo and his less-than-good intentions in the apartment they’d shared for years, where Felix made themself smaller and smaller by the day in order to allow Leo space to be big. Felix had never really had the chance to branch out and meet new people until after their breakup with Leo and, by that point, they’d been so nervous that it seemed a herculean task just to start a conversation. But they were working on that. They were doing better now. They were reaching out to people, they were making friends.

They were going to picnics.

It had seemed like a good idea, in theory. They’d even managed to talk themself out of the tempting idea of dragging Mona or Natalia along for the ride, reminding themself that they needed to be able to meet people without the security blanket of someone they were already close to being there to help. They could do this on their own. Just Felix, the muffins they’d brought, and… a whole lot of people. Like a lot of people. Were there always this many people at things like this?

Someone bumped into them in the crowd, and Felix stiffened a little. “Sorry,” he said, at the same time that they apologized. Then, blinking down, they realized they recognized the girl. “Oh! Hi! You’re, um, the bird girl. I mean, the girl who likes birds. I mean, person. Bird person. Person who likes birds.” All right, Fe, reel it in. “I’m Felix! Um, what did you…” The trailed off, looking down at the tupperware in her hand and what they could see of the… substance inside. “...make?”

—

Bird girl. Well, they weren’t wrong. It caused Wren to let out a high-pitched, nervous laugh. That felt a little too on the nose, even if they didn’t realize it. “Yup! Yeah, bird girl seems… fitting.” Her laugh strained just a tad bit more before she reeled it in. “Big fan of birds! That’s me, yes. Um, anyways!” She rocked onto the balls of her feet as she tried to ignore her own anxious, awkward tendencies. “Hi Felix! I’m happy to see a friendly face.” He really did seem friendly from their brief conversation. It did little to ebb her already overwhelming anxiety, but it was something at least.

Looking down at the container, Wren had to take a moment to remember the name. “Uh, potato salad!” She looked back up and smiled. “The recipe said to just add whatever I wanted! So I did that. I’ve never made potato salad. I didn’t even know what it was! I had to search what picnic foods were, because I don’t think people would like my go to foods.” Raw meat, raw fish may be more accepted, but she didn’t know how well either of those would hold for human consumption.

There was plenty of activity around Wren and Felix. It was overwhelming, so Wren did her best to ignore the push, push, push of it all. “Um, did you bring anything? Or just come for the fun? Would you want some potato salad? I didn’t bring forks! Should I have brought forks? I don’t know how picnics work, I’ve never been to one. What do you think?” She blabbered on. Wren could tell when she was spiraling and it was definitely happening. “Oh god, sorry. When I start I just kind of can’t stop! Ha.” She winced.

—

She seemed nervous, and Felix wondered if they’d said something wrong. They had a habit of that, they knew, of speaking out of turn and generally making a mess of things. They were trying to do better, trying to improve, trying to… be the sort of person that people wanted to talk to, but it was an uphill battle. Spending most of your teen years living off the land in a murder cabin tended to make social interaction a little more difficult. Trying to save the interaction, Felix nodded. “Uh, yeah! Birds are great. I like birds, too.” They didn’t. Not more than the average person, at least. In fact, some birds freaked them out a little. But, hey! They could pretend, in the interest of friendly conversation. “Yeah! Yeah, it’s nice to, uh, know somebody.”

Glancing back down to the container again, Felix tried not to let their… surprise show on their face. That was not potato salad. Felix had seen potato salad. Felix had made potato salad. Felix had even enjoyed potato salad. That was not potato salad. But it was her first time making it, and she’d found a recipe that apparently wasn’t very helpful, and wouldn’t it be unnecessarily mean to point that out? “It looks great!” Felix lied, flashing her a bright smile. “I can’t wait to try it!” They hoped they had remembered to put anti-nausea meds in their jean pockets.

“I brought muffins,” Felix replied quickly, holding up the muffins and offering one to Wren. They liked to think they were some quality muffins, but they might have been a little biased. They glanced back to the ‘potato salad’ Wren was holding with a forced smile. “Oh, yeah. I’d love some potato salad. I think, uh — I think there’s forks where the other food is. So we can go over there and get some forks. And then. Eat this potato salad!” They felt a little like they were tying a noose for their executioner here, but it was fine. “No, hey, it’s okay! I kind of do the same thing. It’s cool. Come on, let’s… go find a fork.”

—

Wren’s smile was shaky at best, but it was getting easier to breathe through the anxiety when she just focused on Felix in front of her instead. They seemed really nice and dealing with one person in comparison to several was always going to be preferable to Wren. Especially when they seemed to be as kind as Felix was. “I don’t do this kind of stuff often,” a pause as Wren tried to figure out how to word it, “go out, I guess. Being around a lot of people kind of freaks me out.” An understatement, but she could lighten it a tiny bit. There was no harm, right?

“Thanks! I tried really hard, so I hope it’s good.” Wren smiled, holding up the container briefly to observe the potato mixture in there that had taken her way too long. Humans were really strange in what they could eat and couldn’t. She didn’t want to make something she’d enjoy, but would make humans sick. That was the quickest way to give away the fact that she was very clearly something else entirely. The constant fear and itch to not be found out was persistent enough.

Baking! That was another thing that Wren was eager to try. “Oh wow, these look amazing! Thank you!” Wren took the muffin excitedly. “Do you bake a lot? Or cook in general? Baking seems really hard, but so fun. Do you have a favorite thing you like to cook or bake?” She practically bounded alongside Felix to go near the other food. Someone was going to eat her food! She was way too excited. “Fork adventure! Hah,” Wren giggled almost nervously and could feel the heat from her embarrassed blush travel all the way up to the tips of her ears.

There was a table full of other dishes and cutlery, plates, anything you could think of. Wren made work of setting down the tupperware container and popping off the lid. It didn’t look awful, at least. Or to her, anyway. It looked like vegetables and sauce? That was normal, for sure. “If you hate it, it’s okay! Don’t worry.” Wren added quickly, resisting the urge to grimace. “Rome wasn’t painted in a day or whatever the saying is. I heard that one on TV.”

—

Given her overall demeanor her words — that this wasn’t a thing she did often — felt unnecessary to really say. It was clear that she was uncomfortable, out of her element. But that was okay. Felix was a little out of theirs, too. So they smiled back at her, they shrugged their shoulders. “I don’t really do this often, either,” they admitted, wondering if they were this obvious. Being around a lot of people was pretty scary, but they’d found it was a lot better when you were around one you trusted. They could be that one for Wren, they thought. Or… try to, anyway.

Even if it meant eating her potato salad. They spared it another look, careful not to let the uncertainty shine through in their expression. They weren’t sure she would have picked up on it, but they didn’t want to take any chances. “I’m sure it’s great. I think, um, the first step to cooking and being good at it is to try your hardest. Right?” Wrong. Very, very wrong. The first step to cooking and being good at it was not making anything like what she had in her hands. Felix’s stomach was not going to be happy with them after this.

But Wren was happy, or seemed to be. That made it feel kind of worth it. She took a muffin, and Felix offered her an encouraging smile. “I love baking. It’s something I do a lot. Um, I do more of it when I’m stressed. I like to think I’m pretty good at it, because of all the practice.” They paused. “Baking, I mean, Not being stressed.” Though they got plenty of practice at that, too. “Yeah! Yeah, let’s go on a fork adventure.”

It didn’t feel like much of an adventure. They walked to the table and grabbed a fork, trying not to sigh as Wren popped open her tupperware. It smelled… interesting. Like a lot of things at once. Felix, unsure where to start, stuck his fork in. “Yeah. That’s — That’s totally how it goes. Um, I think.” They tried to remember that meal at the Raven, the one that looked terrible but tasted fine. They did their best to convince themself that Wren’s potato salad would be the same as they brought the fork to their mouth.

—

Wren swallowed hard around the small lump that formed in her throat. Ever since all but crash landing at Wicked’s Rest she had been endlessly surprised by the kindness people showed her. She hadn’t ever really considered before that this may be the norm for humans and their society. Felix was offering her kindness simply because they wanted to. She couldn’t say it made her any less perpetually terrified of those around her, but at least it was comforting to know that kindness was the go to for a lot of people she had, thankfully, already met.

“Oh, yes! I think so, too. Something about being bad before you can be good at it,” Wren agreed cheerfully. She peeled carefully at the wrapper around the base of the muffin before taking a bite. One of the things that Wren had also come to love was all the various foods humans had to offer. The muffin was sweet and the sugar went right to her head with how ready she felt to bounce all around. “Wow! This is amazing, Felix!” Maybe baking was something people were just good at off the bat. Felix seemed to be at least.

Nodding along, Wren took Felix’s words into consideration. So they weren’t good at it off the bat then. Practice was the key. She’d have to keep that in mind for herself. All wasn’t lost. “I get that, though. I’m always stressed—especially about things I can’t control, which I’ve been told isn’t great for me, but it’s hard not to and all. Do you make cookies or anything? Or cupcakes? Those are baked goods, right?” Okay, reign it in, Wren. That wasn’t a normal thing to ask someone—a fellow human. It took her best efforts sometimes to not look like a fish out of water.

Wren clapped her hands together and smiled expectantly. She hoped that they didn’t feel too pressured right now, but this was a big step for her. Cooking and trying to offer it to people without having an anxiety filled meltdown. She thought she was doing pretty well so far. “So? Thoughts? Concerns? Comments? Questions?” She asked, trying to do her best to not look over eager, but failing.

—

She was right about that, at least; the first step to being really good at something was being really bad at it. Felix’s mother had been particularly fond of that saying, smiling each time one of her children came to her to admit to some mistake. That’s how you learn, she’d tell them. So… maybe Wren’s potato salad was effectively poison. Maybe Felix would regret eating it. But this was how she was going to learn, wasn’t it? Their mother had helped them with that, so maybe it was their duty to pay it forward and help Wren.

They smiled as she took a bite of the muffin, pleased that she seemed to enjoy it. “I’ll give you the recipe, if you want. Um, baking is — It’s about being precise, but knowing when to improvise. My mom used to say it was like jazz music. There’s notes, but some of it is you making it up as you go.”

It was easy to see themself in Wren. In her stress, her anxiety. Felix had a pretty good idea how she was feeling right now, and they wanted to help. If that meant eating bad potato salad, they’d eat it. “Yeah,” they confirmed with a nod. “I make cookies a lot. Cupcakes sometimes, too, but I’d rather just make a normal cake. I don’t know why, but I like normal cakes better than cupcakes. Those are baked goods, yeah.” Man, Wren wasn’t kidding when she said she was new to cooking. Maybe she was a sheltered kid, someone who’d just moved to town for college or something. She was about the right age, and Felix had heard that some college kids didn’t even know how to do laundry when they first got to their dorms.

The potato salad sat on their tongue, and it was… wrong. All of it was wrong. The texture, the taste. It was hard not to make a face as it settled, and when Felix swallowed, it was… a little too hard of a gulp to pass for neutrality. They opened their mouth, now blessedly free of “potato salad” and tried to think of something to say.

Luckily, they were rescued by an approaching person. The man wore a red shirt and red shirts, with a red had sporting claws on either side. He came to stand beside Wren, the smile on his face a little too wide. “Shrimptastic day we’re having!” He greeted, and Felix, eyes wide, nodded.

“Um. Yeah?”

“Have you seen our booth? We’re just over there. We have pamphlets. Would you like a pamphlet?”

—

Jazz music. Wren wasn’t quite sure what that was, but she could figure it out. The website Google had been her best friend since stumbling right into the thick of human culture. “Sure! That would be really nice.” She nodded, “improvise… kind of like how I did in the potato salad!” She supplied, looking proud of herself. The website did say that you could throw whatever you wanted into it and it’d more than likely work.

“A normal cake! Like the big ones with a bunch of layers? I saw that on a TV show.” Wren gasped, trying to refrain from getting more muffin crumbs all over her sweater. She wasn’t entirely successful, but that was fine. “Do you have a favorite flavor or anything? I’ve heard that you can’t go wrong with chocolate. I like chocolate loads.” She informed them. Taking another bite of her muffin had her head bobbing along happily as if there was music she was dancing to.

Mouth full of muffin, Wren didn’t get to hear what Felix thought of her potato salad when someone came up beside her. She did her best not to choke on the baked goods in her startled state. Thankfully with that came not shrieking out loud like the impulse had been. Wren quickly chewed and swallowed, wiping at the crumbs on her face. ‘Shrimptastic day’... what did that mean? Shrimp were delicious, she’d allow that.

“Um, yes?” Wren wasn’t sure if that was the right answer. “What is your booth about? Shrimp?” Someone did say that they had been given a bunch of shrimp they didn’t want. Her brown eyes flickered over to Felix to see if they had any earthly idea what could be going on with this shrimp enthusiastic person. “I didn’t realize so many people here liked shrimp that much.”

—

Felix didn’t want to encourage more potato salads like this one. They really didn’t. But saying, no, nothing like what you did with the potato salad, do the opposite of whatever you did with the potato salad would probably hurt Wren’s feelings, and that wasn’t at all what Felix wanted. So they grit their teeth together in a forced grin and nodded their head. “Yeah! Like that!” Surely not every attempt would be as bad as this one, right?

“Yeah, like that. I like chocolate a lot, but I have to be careful how I make it. I’m lactose intolerant — uh, which means I don’t process cow’s milk well — so I have to, you know, use other ingredients instead. But you can make it work! And if you don’t have allergies to worry about, they make a lot of boxed good cake mixes. Pretty much all you have to do is add the wet ingredients!” Maybe that should be Wren’s first stepping stone if she wanted to be a baker. It was hard to mess up a boxed cake mix, wasn’t it?

It was strange, feeling grateful for a stranger approaching to talk about shrimp. After their experience at the theatre with Mona, Felix had little desire to talk about shrimp at all. But talking about shrimp would give them time to think of something nice to say about Wren’s potato salad, wouldn’t it? It was… was sticky a compliment? No, right? She probably hadn’t been going for sticky.

The man smiled at Wren, something strange behind his eyes. “Isn’t everything about shrimp? If it isn’t, it should be.” His eyes flickered down to the potato salad. “I spotted you from across the way. Your food looks very good. I think we might have similar ideologies.” He reached out, putting a hand on Wren’s arm in a way that was strange; like he wasn’t quite used to having hands. Felix blinked.

“Um, actually —”

The man continued as if they hadn’t spoken. “Of course people like shrimp. Who would deny shrimp? You wouldn’t, would you? Would you deny shrimp the respect they deserve? The fear? The awe? Be honest.”

—

“My friend Van is like that! She offered me medicine once when I cried at her work then got raw meat.” Wren informed Felix. You’re supposed to share stories with friends or people who would become friends, right? She was totally nailing this. Boxed mix sounded a lot easier than trying to bake from scratch. Maybe she’d have to give that a try. She could make something for her friends and hopefully they’d like it! “Oh, that sounds like a nice idea, thank you! I’ll give that a try. I can follow instructions, for the most part. Sometimes I like to do whatever I want since that’s more fun, but I’ll do my best to try to follow it all without too much change.” Jazz, jazz music. Had to follow it to make it work best, but with some changes is what Felix said.

The man had a certain look in his eye that was making the hair on the back of Wren’s neck stand up. She didn’t have a good gut feeling, but when did she ever? This could just be her anxiety talking, knowing her. Poppy always poked at her mercilessly for her fear over the smallest things that she wouldn’t be able to sense real danger if it smacked her in the face. Was this one of those situations? She wasn’t equipped to be able to handle this, she was sure.

“Oh, ha! Um, thanks!” Wren laughed nervously, the brief grimace on her face quickly being hidden by an equally as uncomfortable looking smile. “I didn’t think everything should be about shrimp, to be honest. Isn’t there other things to enjoy like… I don’t know? Nature? Um, stuff that isn’t shrimp? Right, Felix?” She quickly looked at them with a wild look in her eyes. She didn’t want to do this alone.

Shaking the man’s hand off as casually as Wren could manage, she looked at a loss for words. “Aren’t shrimp usually just eaten instead? Is that what your pamphlet is about? A shrimp eating contest sounds like fun!”

—

“Oh, hey, I know Van!” And… they also knew that humans weren’t supposed to eat raw meat. Felix could handle it — the jaguar was built for digesting raw meat, and they did share a body — but it made human sick. Maybe Van didn’t know that, or Wren didn’t, or both; either way, Felix felt it was their responsibility, as an adult in the equation, to say something. “You cooked the meat, though, didn’t you? You really need to cook meat before you eat it. I mean, um, there are some kinds you can eat raw, I think — like sushi and stuff — but for the most part, you’re really supposed to cook it.”

At least she seemed willing to accept boxed cake mix. Felix thought it would be a big step for Wren, the kind of thing that could really push her in the right direction. Boxed cake mix would be so much better than this potato salad, because anything would be better than this potato salad. Not that Felix was going to say that. They were not breaking kids’ spirits. “They usually put the instructions on the box with the cake mix. But, um, you know, you can still add stuff to it! Like… chocolate chips.” And not onions, they wanted to add. Definitely not onions.

They wondered what had drawn this shrimp-loving man their way. Surely he didn’t really want Wren’s potato salad, did he? He kept looking at it, something like hunger in his eyes. Felix moved to grab him a fork when Wren spoke, drawing their attention away. “Um, yeah. Shrimp is cool, but it’s not everything. Haha.”

It was like a flip had been switched. The more Wren spoke about shrimp, the less friendly the man seemed. His hand dropped from her shoulder, his eyes narrowed. “Eaten? You would eat them? Shrimp are to be adored! Worshiped! Eaten, perhaps, but only after a natural death. Only to keep them close, to make them a part of you.” He reached into his pocket, retrieving a pamphlet which he shoved into Wren’s face. “You will educate yourself. You must.”

“Hey,” Felix took an uncertain step forward. “Look, you’re being a little —”

The man turned to them, reaching out and shoving them. It wasn’t a particularly hard shove, but it caught them off guard enough to send them stumbling backwards and make them drop the tray of muffins they were holding. “You cannot possibly understand,” the man mumbled, seeming to grow more and more frantic. “You could never. But you!” He turned back to Wren, gesturing again to the potato salad. “You must! Come with me. Come with us.” As he said it, he reached into his pocket again, this time producing… a shrimp.

—

“Oh, wow! She’s great, huh?” Wren smiled happily. Oh. Right. Humans didn’t eat raw meat. Sometimes she forgot how far away from human she was the longer she was in her human form. Though, then stuff like this would happen and she’d be very much reminded how human she wasn’t. “Um, sure! Yes. I definitely cooked the sausage. Don’t worry. I am very much a food safety expert. I watched two videos on the site YouTube about it. Especially since I didn’t want anyone getting sick from my potato salad!” She looked it up after realizing that human stomachs couldn’t handle what a siren’s stomach could.

Wren really wished that they were still talking about boxed cake mix instead of shrimp. Which, that was something she never thought she’d think. She loved eating shrimp. This whole shrimp loving man seemed to take it to another level than her casual enjoyment. Casual enjoyment of shrimp was also another thing that Wren didn’t think she would ever think to herself before. The longer Wren is in Wicked’s Rest, the more she is convinced it’s an odd place to live. It worked out, though, she was pretty sure she also was considered odd to most people.

Blinking owlishly, Wren merely stared at the man with wide eyes. This… was so bizarre. She flinched back with the pamphlet being shoved in her face. At least this wasn’t as distressing as Regan taking her to see a dead bird. Wren had almost transformed in front of the woman with how upset she was, so she would take the building anxiety over that any day. Especially when it was with some man insisting that she educate herself on the worship of shrimp.

“Hey!” Wren said sharply the moment that he shoved Felix. “That was mean! Don’t touch my friend!” She shook her head rapidly as he seemed to get more frantic and set his sights on her instead. Snatching the shrimp out of the man’s hand, Wren bit off the shrimp leaving only the tail. She chewed thoroughly and shook the tail around, “that’s what I think of your shrimp! Go away! You touch my friend again and I’ll claw a chunk of you and your shrimp! Again!” Wren scowled at the man, shoving his shoulder hard to get him away from the pair. “Get out of here, weirdo!”

—

“Yeah! Van is great. And, um, so is cooking sausage. Before you eat it. Which you should do!” Did watching two YouTube videos make you an expert on something? It was hard to judge without knowing the length of the videos, Felix supposed. They’d seen videos on YouTube that were up to eight hours long, though they’d never ventured to watch any of them. There was every possibility that Wren was an expert on food safety, even if the content of her potato salad made them doubt that she was an expert at food anything.

In any case, she was probably better with food than… this guy. This guy who was so angry at the prospect of them eating shrimp, a popular food item! Felix didn’t mind the shove, really — they’d suffered far, far worse, after all — but it was nice that Wren was so upset about it. They offered her a small, grateful smile. “I’m okay, Wren,” they assured her, glancing down at the muffins. At least they’d managed to let one person eat one before they were ruined. And Wren had said they were good!

They glanced back up, away from the muffins and back to the situation at hand. The situation which saw Wren… eating the man’s pocket shrimp. That couldn’t be healthy, could it? It had been in his pocket! Shrimp needed to be stored at certain temperatures, probably! Felix took an uncertain step forward, faltering when the shrimp man’s wail cut through the air.

“You would dare? What makes you think you’re worthy? What makes you think you’ve earned this?” He pointed a finger in Wren’s face, wagging it around. His own face was red with fury, growing impossibly redder as he was shoved away. He looked from Wren to Felix and back again, eyes narrowing. “We won’t forget this,” he said lowly. “You’ve made our list now. You!” He pointed to Wren. “Are an enemy of the shrimp.”

And with that, he turned on his heel, stomping away and tossing the pamphlet behind him.

Felix knelt, picking it up and flipping through it. “Um, that was… weird,” they admitted, shoving the pamphlet into their pocket. They’d find a garbage can to dump it in later. “It was nice of you to stand up for me, though. I really appreciate that. Are you okay?”

—

Felix insisted they were okay, but Wren felt so angry. How dare this man think he could just shove people around because they don’t like shrimp? All Felix’s hard work was on the grass. It made Wren’s heart hurt and that only increased her anger. She let out a shaky breath and managed a small smile in Felix’s direction. “I’m glad you’re okay, Felix. That wasn’t okay what he did! I’m very sorry for your muffins. That’s so mean of him. Mean people don’t deserve good things!” She turned her sharp glare to the man in question.

“I would dare? No, you dare!” Wren threw back in return. Though it wasn’t the best comeback, but she was too mad to think of anything better. “Get your dumb finger out of my face, weirdo! I hope you stub your toe every morning when you wake up and every night when you go to bed! It hurts really bad and you deserve it!” Wren shrieked back at the man. “That shrimp wasn’t even that good so I’m not that worried about being on your list! List of bad shrimp recipes and storing, I bet!” She huffed. “Watch some long YouTube videos and maybe you’ll be a better person after!”

Enemy of the shrimp. Wren would eat shrimp for breakfast if it meant telling that man what’s what again. She huffed and knelt down to carefully pick up the now ruined muffins. “That was really weird. I don’t think normal people keep shrimp in their pockets.” Her head shook as she held the muffins with a sad sigh. “I’m sorry about your muffins, Felix. They were very yummy and he ruined them.” The younger girl sniffled, feeling the tears start to well in her big, brown eyes. “I’m fine! Sorry, I cry at everything.” Wren hiccuped weakly. “I’m just so sad that he was so mean to you! Maybe we could make muffins some other time? Ones that won’t end up on the grass.”

—

The anger on her face was a familiar thing. Felix didn’t get mad often, didn’t tend to rage against any machine or whatever it was that people did when they were upset with the world at large, but the jaguar did. They felt his anger in their chest sometimes, burning and directionless, upset at a situation he had no control over but was stuck in all the same. Did Wren’s feel similar? Felix wondered, sometimes, how things felt when your body was only yours. Was it preferable? Or was it good to have that ‘out,’ that thing inside of you that you could point the finger at if things went too far?

The shrimp man stormed off, not bothering to respond to Wren’s words. He’d said his piece, it seemed, put them both on some… list that Felix hoped wasn’t a literal thing. (He didn’t know their names, did he? Felix had called Wren by hers, but only her first name! You couldn’t do anything with just a first name. Could you? Anxiety ebbed in their chest.) Felix watched him go, unable to relax even after he’d disappeared into the crowd.

Turning to Wren, they tried to offer a comforting smile. They wanted to be a force of good, a steady thing to lean upon. It was hard; Felix hadn’t felt steady in years now. But Wren was clearly upset, even if she said she was fine. “I can make new muffins,” they assured her. “And, um, yeah. You could help. If you wanted to. Um… I don’t know about you, but I’m not really… feeling the picnic anymore. If you want, we could go back to my apartment, and I could show you how to make muffins? Maybe we can come back tomorrow and bring them. Does that sound okay?”

—

Using her free hand, Wren wiped beneath her eye where a tear had escaped. She felt like a tsunami inside right now. Everything was a swirling mix of chaotic emotions that she was having a hard time tampering down. She couldn’t remember a time she felt so angry and so upset in one breath. That man was just mean and he was mean to her friend. That wasn’t okay. She didn’t want her friends to be upset or hurt because other people didn’t know how to be kind. Part of her contemplated actually going flying for the first time in… well, ages, but immediately decided against it. She wouldn’t be any good flying like this, even if she already wasn’t the best flier there was.

Wren managed a small smile in return. “That would be fun.” She agreed after a moment and a small sniffle. “I don’t think this picnic sounds very fun right now, either. That sounds like a lot more fun.” She sighed shakily, standing to her feet to reluctantly throw away the newly ruined muffins. Wren wiped her hands on her jeans and contemplated whether or not she wanted to take the potato salad with her to Felix’s apartment. Maybe people would enjoy it and she could come back for the tupperware container tomorrow when they brought the new muffins.

“Okay! Okay, muffin mission time. We got this.” Wren did her best to be optimistic after the torrent of emotions that had been swirling throughout her. “I’m thinking we make sure to taste two of them, one each, that way more than just one person gets to have them.” She reasoned, practically skipping beside Felix as they headed away from the picnic. The picnic definitely hadn’t gone like Wren envisioned, but she got something out of it regardless. More time with a new friend and apparently on the list of the shrimp… Whatever that may mean she could only hope for the best and be optimistic for what could come. Not everything had to be scary, right? Right.

#para: a shrimptastic picnic #wickedswriting #para: felix #recoveringdreamer

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eeveecryptid · 2 years

Text

※ RESIDENT EVIL: WELCOME TO RACCOON CITY ( 2021 )

lines through the movie because - hello - i adore just how well done it was. feel free to adjust pronouns/phrasing if needed. May include nsfw material.

“s/he's here again. s/he was watching me.” “try and get back to sleep before (name) finds you in my bed.” “what are you doing out of bed, little girl/boy?” “s/he sleepwalks sometimes since our parents died.” “you're a good boy/girl for taking such care of your sister/brother/sibling.” “that must have been quite some dream.” “i almost shit my goddamn pants.” “if i knew you were gonna be screaming in your sleep, i would've left you at the side of the road.” “you know, one might have nightmares heading back into that shithole town.” “hey, why don't you just take a seat and leave the poor kid alone, huh, (name)?” “ten bucks says you can't shoot that off from here.” “twenty says i can knock the bottle without even looking.” “you snooze, you lose- it's (sender's name)'s sandwich now.” “i heard that you shot your partner in the ass during training.” “heard that your daddy, some big shot on the force, had to bail you out.” “what's the 'S' stand for? stupid?” “sooner they shut this whole town down, the better, as far as i'm concerned.” “we're nice people once you get to know us.” “s/he's only got eyes for the big fella, and I don't fancy your chances against him.” “you really shoot your own partner?” “still pining after (name), i see.” “never gonna happen, bro.” “i see you wax your chest now.” “after you ran away, (name) was the closest thing i had to family.” they raised me, put me through school, the academy-- they were there for me.” “where were you? i haven't even heard from you in five years.” “they've been trying to contain that shit, but the genie is out of the bottle now, and i don't think it's going back in.” “what kind of person can pick a lock like that?” “it's kind of impressive, but also, what the fuck?” “i'd never let anything hurt you.” “lock-pick the door behind you when you leave-- and don't touch the bike!” “what would the worst way to die be? to be swallowed whole by a snake or eaten alive by a great white shark?” “you're a freak, (name).” “i plan on dying peacefully in bed, snuggled in (name)'s big burly arms. “you said 'everyone into the briefing room,' so- here i am.” “i didn't mean you, you moron. not you, (name), everyone else. “what if someone wanders in and there's no-one behind the front desk? an old lady's looking for her cat or something.” “i'm sorry, (name), is that important? a new girlfriend?” “maybe you could take her out to eat at Planet Hollywood.” “they have a new one in Gatlin- oh, they got a great salad. little wine.” “maybe just take her back to your apartment, rent a movie at Blockbuster, get cozy on the couch, or put on some Journey.” “Steve Perry's voice, what it does to a woman's heart, huh? am i right?” “sounds like i might be getting laid.” “leaving, that's what they want. so they can destroy my life's work.” “it's okay, little girl/boy, because we've found you a new family.” “don't worry about your brother/sister, s/he'll be coming along as well, in due course.” “we would never separate the two of you.” “who are you gonna call? you're the police.” “i'm no medical expert, but i think that guy might just be beyond saving.” “congratulations, rookie, on the promotion.” “i'm sure your father would be incredibly proud that his pathetic specimen of a child is rising so quickly through the ranks.” “someone should confiscate that.” “the faster we find them, the faster we can get the fuck out of here.” “so you're (name)'s little sister/brother, huh? i didn't think the two of you spoke.” “my parents died in a car accident when i was eight.” “my brother and i grew up in an orphanage here.” “i ran away a long time ago.” “i had to learn to handle myself quickly.” “you're probably wondering what a guy like me is doing as a cop, right?” “oh yeah, no, he's fucking fine, yeah. who doesn't cough up a little blood on the floor when they're feeling sick? just a little cold.” “of course he's not fucking okay, man, look at him.” “you're no einstein, are you, buddy?” “get your shit together, or you're not gonna make it through the night.” “i just really want to get out of this town.” “i don't know who they are. i don't know, and i don't care.” “they're just some people with a vested interest in getting hold of whatever dirty secrets Umbrella are keeping down there and exposing them.” “come on, (name). don't look at me like that. it's just money, alright? and they have plenty of it.” “it was just a way of getting out of this . . . small town, dead-end life.” “you were just gonna leave us?” “we have to find (name 1) and (name 2) and tell them (name 3) is dead.” “come on, these are your friends!” “they bought you off, didn't they? they paid you to keep quiet about all the shit they were doing in here.” “now they've left you to rot in the gutter like the rest of us.” “don't be so damn naïve.” “you got some weird friends.” “(name 1) betrayed us, (name 2). s/he was gonna leave us here to die.” “we have to follow him/her, 'cause i think it's our only way out of here.” “this is my life's work. i'm not giving it to anybody.” “i'm not really offering you a choice here, pal.” “you didn't have to make it like this.” “what the hell is wrong with you?” “this is so fucked.” “jesus, (name), you and that fucking gun.” “i wouldn't have pulled the trigger, kid.” “did you really believe you could be part of my family?” “oh, such a sweet little soldier. such a loyal drone.” “how could you be so dumb when your sister/brother's so smart?” “i almost feel sad having to kill you. almost.” “i should have taken you and your sister/brother down to the lab. you would have made excellent specimens.” [ to an attacker ] “get. the fuck. away. from my brother/sister.” “this is really nice, but i think i broke some ribs.” “we got to get the fuck out of here, Umbrella is gonna level this place.” “trust me, i'm as surprised as you are, buddy.” “i should've listened to you a long time ago.” “i may have scratched the paint on your bike.” [ to a monster ] “hey! you ugly fuck!” “a rocket launcher? Found it in first class.” “i don't understand, i thought i was dead.” “what happened to my eyes? i can't see.” “it's a side effect, one of the things we had to do to bring you back. there will be others.”

#ask meme #resident evil rp meme #indie rp #inbox meme #rp meme #rp ask #rp ask meme #askbox meme #askbox starters #rp sentence meme #sentence starter meme #rp sentence starters #inbox memes #indie starters #rp inbox meme

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uncle-jj · 2 years

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⛔ | 🎵 | 🎵

I have a few town tunes for you to try out on your next island.

Saikosoku Fall in Love (Monster Musume)

Bubblegum K.K.

Cat Girl Without Salad

Mr. Oizo - Hand in the Fire

1-up Sound/The New Rickroll'd

Wife Forever

No credit needed when you use the tunes! ;3

#animal crossing #animal crossing new horizons #animal crossing new leaf #island tune #town tune #mr. oizo #bbpanzu #cat girl without salad: amuse bouche #monster musume #bubblegum kk #fnf sky

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elisysd · 1 year

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2. Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: The Loneliest - Maneskin

He didn’t remember what happened yesterday. Well, that was not true. He remembered going to Jimmy’z, drinking, dancing, flirting with some girls and going home with one. He remembered the kissing, the tearing each other clothes part and the sex that he knew was good. But he failed to remember the name of the brunette laying naked next to him. But at least he was at home.

He got up of the bed, threw a tee shirt over his head and open the curtains letting the sun shone bright in the room. The girl started to move and slowly woke up. Her blue eyes met his and she smiled softly at him.

“Good morning, Ethan.”

“Yeah, yeah, good morning. Well, it was nice and all but I kind of have somewhere to be, like right now so can you leave? Now.”

It was true. He was invited by his mom for a brunch before he had to leave for Bahrain. And he was late. Not that it was unusual, Ethan had a hard time understanding the notion of being on time.

“Are you not even going to get me a coffee before throwing me out? That would be the least you could do.” said the girl.

She was cute. Definitely Ethan’s type.

“I don’t have coffee.” he simply answered, dressing up without giving her a second glance. He heard her sighing in frustration, but he didn’t care. He didn’t have the time to care.

“Come on, who doesn’t have coffee at their place?”

Him. Because he didn’t really live here. It was his flat, yes. On paper. He was not in Monaco most of the time. And when he was, he would rather be with his family. His flat was only useful to bring girls and organise parties. For the rest, he was staying with his mom and dad. From the corner of his eyes, he could see his phone screen lightning up, announcing the arrival of a new notification. He was starting to get annoyed. He was not really patient, and the girl was starting to get on his nerve.

“Excuse me…”

“Tess.”

“Tess. Right. I’m not kidding when I say that I have somewhere to be. I’m not trying to let you down gently. So again. You have to leave. Right now. And don’t make me repeat myself or I’m calling the security.”

“Fine. I’m leaving. No need to be an ass. Drunken Ethan was way funnier than sober Ethan.”

He didn’t bother to react and get on with his routine as fast as possible. He was screwed. He was so screwed. A few minutes later he closed the door of his flat and went to the underground parking lot to find his Maserati. In the comfort of the leather seat, he breathed in and breathed out before typing a quick text to his mom to say that he was on his way. Twenty minutes later he was crossing the door of the elevator and entered in the penthouse. The table was dressed, the bottle of wine was already opened, and a soft jazz music was playing in the background. A nice smell was coming from the kitchen as he was about to go there to greet his mother he was intercepted by his father.

“If you had at least one inch of survival instinct you would have bought lilies on your way.” Max Verstappen told him.

“I overslept. I’m sorry. Is she mad, mad?”

“Madder than mad, Ethan.”

“Okay, perfect. I’ll let you handle my manager if I’m not coming out of this kitchen alive in ten minutes.”

“Beware of the knives, Ethan.”

Ethan ignored him and took a big breath before steeping into the kitchen.

“Hey mom.” he greeted her.

“Shut your mouth, Ethan Christian. I’m not in the mood to hear whatever excuses you’re coming up with. Is it too much to ask you to not be late, for once?”

“I get that saying sorry will just no do…”

“Bring the salad in the dining room and the lemonade. In silence.”

He gulped but did as tell. He knew better than to argue with his mother. His dad was playing with a cat that Ethan knew all too well. A cat that he didn’t like. The cat didn’t like him either and was never missing an opportunity to scratch him whenever he could or to even pee in his shoes. Ethan was persuaded that the cat was sent by Satan himself to make his life hell whenever he was home.

“I see you came out of the kitchen alive and well. Congratulations.” said Max.

“A part of me can’t wait to leave tomorrow because I won’t see mom anymore and she won’t be on my back 24/7.”

“And the other part of you?”

“It’s always weird. I love racing, I can’t wait to be back inside the car but at the same time… being free of obligations, being able to do whatever the hell I want… Feeling like a normal 23 years old… I miss that, sometimes.”

“I understand, son.”

Once his mother was back, they started to eat. It wasn’t long before his mother started to stop ignoring him and try to convince him that racing was dangerous and maybe it would be better for him to stop and find a normal job. Every time, it was the same thing and the same speech. If Ethan was used to it, it didn’t make it less annoying.

“I met Lyanna when I went grocery shopping.” she nonchalantly said.

Ethan knew what she was about to say and tried to ignore her thinking that if he would, she would just drop whatever she was about to say. But he knew it was pointless.

“Julia got a job for Skoda. She is going to work as an engineer for them.”

His mom always had a weird obsession for Charles Leclerc’s daughter, much to Ethan dismay. At one time she was obsessed with the idea of the two kids getting married. Just the thought of it was enough to make Ethan want to throw up.

“Yeah, Charles told me during one of our gym sessions. He is so damn proud of her. But it’s great, she worked her ass off for that position.”

“That means you are going to see her a lot, Ethan.” told him his mother, emphasising the end of the sentence.

“Well technically, I won’t. She won’t work with Maserati or Lamborghini, so…”

“But she will be around.”

“Great. fantastic. Amazing. Can’t you see how happy this information is making me? I’m throwing up rainbows and shitting glitters. That’s how happy it makes me.”

“First, don’t be sarcastic. Second, language please. Third, don’t roll your eyes at me.”

Her mother put down her fork and looked at him straight in the eyes.

“I don’t understand why you don’t like her. She is a really sweet girl. She is smart, she is hard working, she loves motorsport too, she is nice, and she is really pretty.”

“Nice? Nice? Are we still talking about Julia? The girl who bit me when we were three? I still have the scar from that time!”

“Oh, come on, you were kids.”

Ethan sighed and shook his head. He was not going to have this conversation. Julia liked to make people think that she was an angel when he knew full well that she was just an annoying and stuck-up girl. He hated the idea to have her near him. For as long as he could remember they always had been some sort of competition between them, no matter what it was. And most of the time she was the best. Racing was the only field where they never had to compete against each other therefore he never had to endure people, or his parents say how Julia was better. She already was a better child and better student than him but at least she would never be a better racer. And it relieved him. And to know that she would now be near him, almost every weekend, it was bringing back feelings he thought were buried deep inside.

Seeing her son tensed his mom finally gave up on the subject.

“So, what are your thoughts about the season? Any goals you want to achieve by the end of it?” Asked Max.

“The only thing I want is to finally be able to move to Lambo. That’s the dream. It’s my third year in Maserati and I love the team but… I will never be World Champion there. I will never be like you.”

“You know what you have to do to move up there. A seat in Lamborghini has to be deserved.”

“Or you could talk to Christian…”

“Ethan, no. It’s not because you are my son that it will give you an easy access.”

“It helped in the past…” tried to argue the youngest.

“But everyone could see that you were talented. You know that in F1, you are all the best drivers in the world. What will differentiate you from the others is how you’ll be on the track. If you want that seat you have to prove that you are the best.”

Ethan sighed. He wanted nothing else than to prove it but how could he when he didn’t have the car? They finished to eat and Ethan excused himself saying that he needed to finish packing. Truth be told, he would rather be away from his parents. He loved them but between an overprotective mother and a father that didn’t understand that sometimes he needed help, he felt like suffocating. He kissed his mother cheek, shook his dad’s hand, and left. He didn’t feel like taking his car, he would retrieve it later. His feet took him to the marina where all the yachts were.

He liked the sea; it was always calming him down. Growing up he had some anger issues and even if the karting had helped him managed them, taking a boat, and going on the sea had a better effect on him. He kept walking until he reached the beach and took off his shoes to let the sand under his feet ground him. He ended up sitting down and took his phone out of his pocket. He needed to forget about the pressure, he needed to let loose.

“Ludwig? It’s Ethan, are you in Monaco? I need a drink, care to join me?”

Ludwig Martinelli was one of Ethan’s best friend. He was driving for Lamborghini alongside his other best friend, Kyle. They knew each other since karting and grew up together. They probably were the ones Ethan was the closest too. They had gone through the same things in life, had done the same mistakes and had been stupid together. They still were.

“I can’t, man, tonight. We are on a strict health plan. Can’t drink before the beginning of the season.”

“Yeah, I understand. It’s fine. I guess, it’s going to be me, myself and I, tonight.”

“Sorry. Take care, okay. We still flight out together tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Lu.”

Well, it seemed that he would party on his own tonight.

The next morning was just a redo of the previous one but instead of a pretty brunette, it was a gorgeous blonde that was lying naked next to him. He said to her the same thing he said to the other girl and then rushed to the airport where his two best friends were waiting for him, a disapproving look on their faces.

“You’re late.” noted Kyle.

“If we can still board the plane, that means I’m right on time.”

They didn’t try to argue with him, they were used to his antics. They finally made it to the private jet owned by the team and they soon took off.

“So what did you guys do, yesterday?”

“Training, eating, sleeping early. It was pretty boring. What did you do?”

“Went one last time to Jimmy’z to cool down. But on my own, it was not very fun.” he shrugged.

The two Lamborghini’s drivers looked at each other. They knew how Ethan could get when he was feeling alone, it was never really pretty. He was ruthless and overconfident on the tracks, but outside of them, he often felt alone. He was not handling loneliness very well and that often resulted in him ending up in situations he should definitely not be caught in. Not that Ethan cared very much. His name might not help him professionally anymore but it still came handy in other areas of his life.

Ethan slept during the whole journey and after a very long flight, they finally landed in Bahrain. As he was thinking of having a nice night with his best friend he was surprised when they told him that they were going to stay at another hotel.

“Mid-fields and back of the grid teams are staying in another hotel than the top teams.” told him Kyle as they were heading out of the airport.

“Since when?”

“I don’t know, I’m not in charge of the organization.”

“But that means I’m going to be alone!” complained Ethan.

“See that as an opportunity to focus on yourself. And try to sleep alone in your bed tonight.” joked Ludwig.

The ride to the hotel was silent. His teammate, Haru, was going to land later since he was in Japan. He nonchalantly gave his name to the receptionist who gave him his keys and as the doors of the elevator were about to close themselves to take him to the eighth floor, a voice almost screamed to him to keep them open. Reacting fast, he pressed the button just in time for a feminine silhouette to engulf herself in the cabin. When she turned her head towards him to thank him, her smile dropped.

“And fuck… Out of all the people that I could have taken the elevator with, it had to be you.”

“Leclerc… what a displeasure it is to see you.”

Author's note: And chapter 2 is here. After Julia, it's time to meet Ethan! I'm sooo curious to know what you all think of him. But now that introductions are done, the real story and the real drama can begin heheheheh 👀

I can't wait to read your thoughts about it, so don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. It helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist:

@herondalism @aundercover @musingsbyshreya @karmabyfernando @reengard @mycenterfold @smoooothoperator

#writing #fiction #charles leclerc #max verstappen #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #f1 story #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x oc

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