#also sensing a pattern with how i end fics
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lolita ☆ cs55
genre: age gap (10 years), porn with plot, affairs, forbidden romance, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature
word count: 14.9k
You were young, alluring, floating through a disastrous life with the touch of a thousand angels. Carlos was successful, irresistible and someone who often kept a distance from catastrophe. Never in a million years did he think he would have a complete moment of weakness. Especially the week of his wedding.
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, riding, size kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), semi - public sex, deepthroating, praise, fingering, handjobs, lots of dirty foreplay, slapping (like once AH), a bit of edging, overstimulation, a bit of crying, sucking on fingers, squirting - i should stop now, oh god.
inspired by this and this !
STOP AND READ:
This by no means - in any shape or form - is something that should be admired or looked up to. It does deal with serious topics such as: grooming, suicide, and drugs. While the reader is of age (19), this is not my way of impulsing my own readers - especially younger ones, if by any chance they come across this - to follow this mindset. Dark themes will take place and if that is not something you are comfortable with, then that is okay, I definitely have more light hearted fics in my masterlist. “Love stories” aren’t always filled with flowers and rainbows, they can also be hurtful and confusing, often misunderstood. This is fictional. Given, this is inspired by Lolita and Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey (*everyone cheers*) – what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. Verses of Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov are also mentioned (extremely controversial book - as it should be).
cherry here!…hi, guys! i hope you all enjoy and i’m gonna do it now: I’M SORRY.
She was as dangerous as poison could ever be - with no good intentions. She was malicious, sweet laughter that would make anyone fall in love. An Angel walking on Earth, curiously making it her playground.
He was intelligent. A man of few words, but also simply so, the seven deadly sins all wrapped up in one. Keeping a distance from things he knew would bring him no good.
But in order to understand, we would have to take you back to where it all began.
Where Paradise met Hell.
-
Growing up in Italy for some odd reason made you out to be the girl you were. Men there would throw themselves at any opportunity if they saw a single daisy looking girl in eyesight. At first it felt as if you were walking a tightrope; you knew it wouldn’t be the wisest idea to fall straight into their traps. Except, slowly, it made sense.
They knew how to sweet talk someone so young and naive - you’ll give them that. It only took one taste and that was the moment you knew.
You liked them older.
Men fucked in a way boys never would. Every single one would always put your needs first - but there was this one man that had you realizing how fucked up you could be in order to get what you want. That’s one prize you’d cheat to win.
And that’s a story for later.
-
Moving away for college was the best decision you felt you would ever make in your entire life. Given, Italy was home, but the people in it weren’t. Often, you find yourself missing your rendezvous but studying abroad in Spain wasn’t much different.
Note; you didn’t grow up with a tight knit family. Your mother was a drug addict with half of her days knocked out on the couch, your father was someone who was occasionally in the picture. He tried his best.
And your older sister, Ollie?
Well, you’d honestly forgotten you even had one.
Some may say that you’re a whore, a slut, a homewrecker, or any other Spanish slur that spits Madrid, but you never cared. You were having fun and why were you the one always being blamed? Perhaps, men, too, should think with their heads rather than their dicks.
Which is how you find yourself still repeating the familiar pattern you had started a long time ago. Riding your professor shouldn’t feel this good. Mierda, he would groan as you bounce up and down like a bunny. Mewling, you shake the feeling of remorse. Not when he felt this good.
Your phone ringing is what makes you stop, him still inside of you, twitching. Ciao? His calloused fingers would slide up to pinch your nipples as you lightly gasped.
“Tesoro! Haven’t heard your voice in so long.”
Your father’s tone makes you wince at the reminder. Occasionally, he would check up on you in a way you would assume other fathers did for their daughters. You could never hate him, though. In his own way, deep down, he still cared.
“Papi, how are you?”
Sliding off of his lap, you zip your dress back on as you pace the lecture room. Bored, he takes out his secret whiskey from under his desk. Your sister is getting married in a few weeks! I was thinking you could fly back home so you could join us. The thought alone made your stomach churn as you bit down onto your thumb. Signaling at the older man, you click your fingers, hinting for a glass of your own. He obliges, handing it to you.
“I’m busy with summer courses. Maybe I can send a gift?”
You try everything in the book in order to get out of what seems like a crappy, dull, Italian wedding. It had been ages since you last stepped foot there. In no right mind would Ollie’s wedding be the one to change that. But he says things that get to you. I haven’t seen you in years. Neither has your sister. She misses you, you know?
You bite down on a snarky remark as you down the rest of the gold liquid. Last time you spoke, she promised that you were dead to her. That she never wanted to hear from you again. In the moment, it hurt, but you grew used to the idea. And what younger sister doesn’t pick up on what older sister says? Now, you despised her as much as she did you.
“Ovviamente. I’ll be there.”
-
It’s hot as soon as you land. That you didn’t miss. Ale, your fathers chauffeur, picks you up with a bright smile. Saddened, it dawns on you that you hadn’t seen one of those in ages. He’s nice. Let's you sit in the passenger's seat as he introduces himself. He mentions he has 5 granddaughters and has been married for almost 50 years. It’s sweet. Makes you feel human.
Pulling into the driveway, you almost want to correct him. This isn’t my fathers house. You must be mistaken. Only, he says he isn’t. That he had recently moved into his Italian mansion a year ago. You’re skeptical for a minute, but realize you can’t be one to tell. Years have passed; things change.
Still, that didn’t stop you from gawking at the ginormous house that sits on a hill; overlooking all of Tuscany. It even had a beautiful view of the ocean. Why couldn’t you grow up with this?
“I’ll inform your father that you have arrived safely.”
Taking it all in, you slowly pace the entrance, analyzing everything in sight. The crystals hanging from the chandelier, large - expensive - portraits, shiny mirrors. Quirking your head to the side, you glide over to the golden trophy sitting in the middle of the spacious entry.
Carlos Sainz Sr. : Rally Driver of-
“That belonged to my father. He passed away a year ago.”
Startled, you grip onto the trophy tighter as you slightly jump in panic. You curse yourself for being caught as you delicately place it back down before turning your attention to the booming voice.
Instantly, you’re hit with lust. Standing in front of you is a tall man - around his 20’s, perhaps - dark brown eyes narrowed down on you like knives. Messy, untamed, brown hair. Large nose, plump lips, dark brows. His figure is something you can’t wrap your head around that even exists. Richard Mille's watch clung onto his wrist. Giorgio Armani pressed up against his chest, it almost looked as if it didn’t fit due to his rippling muscles. Woody, rich, scent filling up the room.
He was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on.
“I am so, so, sorry.”
Your voice is so soft, it has him intrigued. You wore a short pastel yellow dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination; paired with converse and tube socks. Rosy tint on your cheekbones from the humidity. Berry lips. Wide, innocent eyes. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t take his own breath away. Even though you stood far enough away, he could still smell your vanilla perfume.
Inching closer, he waves you off. “I was kidding. My father is well and alive.” You tippy toe nervously before planting your feet back down.
“That’s not a nice thing to say.”
And he’s surprised with your response. Yet, he finds himself extending his tan hand out to you. “I’m Carlos.”
Carlos. His name sounds as attractive as his appearance. Strong and sure. But also…dark. You shake his hand, legs quivering at his warm touch. Deep down, he knew how much he affected you - it’s something he’s grown quite accustomed to, having people admire his looks, but it took a lot to not show that you had the same effect on him.
“Nice to meet you, Carlos. Do you work for my father?”
Amused, he lets out a deep chuckle. Even a simple sound like that had you pressing your legs together, arousal dripping in between.
“You don’t know who I am?” You shake your head, confused. Should you? He smiles. “That’s okay. We haven’t met before…Though you should get to know me since you’re already here…”
Wait.
“You know,” he leans his head a bit, floppy hair following, “Ollie.”
No, no, no.
“It’s so nice to finally meet my fiancée’s sister.”
Foolishly, you try your best to hide your surprise. How does a man like him end up with a bratty, narcissist, like your sister?
What was so fucking special about her?
Envy fills your veins as you try to show that this hasn’t phased you. Excited cheers echo down the hallway as your father runs over, embracing you into a warm hug. You’re here! Wincing, you lean into his touch, eyes still trained on the magnetic man.
Only then, did Ollie fly down the stairs, immediately running into Carlos’ arms. Making a big deal out of it, she kisses him as she runs her hands against his chest.
“Come here, tesoro. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”
The entire time; Carlos kept his eyes trained on you.
-
It didn’t make sense. Part of you knows it never will. You’ve only just met him, but you can tell he must’ve been fucked in the head to willingly choose someone like Ollie. Sure, she seemed sweet and kind, but she was anything but that.
Dinner that night is carbonara. Carlos is extremely talented. He cooked this just for you. Tight lipped, you thank him, looking down at your plate to avoid his burning gaze.
“How’s school?”
Turning to your father, you remind yourself that you were here for him; because he wanted you there. That’s all that should matter. “Very good. Thank you for asking, papi.”
The sound of glass hitting the table erupts as Carlos hurriedly goes to pick it up, quickly murmuring a strong apology. His dark gaze shortly flickers past you. It leaves you squirming.
Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of his wine. “Where do you study?” Spain, you tell him as he beams. “No way. I was born and raised in Madrid. Moved to Italy a few years ago for work.” Letting out a laugh, you find the coincidence funny. He moved from Spain to Italy and you moved from Italy to Spain.
“What do you do for work?”
“He’s a Formula 1 driver. Drives for Scuderia Ferrari,” Ollie weasels in as she smirks down on you. Anger bubbles inside of her when your attention remains on the Spaniard. Drumming your fingers against the table, you lick your lips. Formula 1? He’s about to explain it all up until Ollie butts in once again. She rubs his hand, a glistening ring shining right in front of you. You physically have to force yourself to look away. “Oh, amor, she doesn’t know what that is. She’s too…young.”
You know she’s trying to make a weak point: you’re only a baby, therefore, you don’t compare to her. And yes, you are young, 19, but it was stupid of her to think that it bothered you. You tsk before leaning back against your chair.
“Of course, my mistake. I forgot I was still a pure flower instead of a wilting one.”
Ollie’s face switches to bright red as she grips onto his hand. An entertained smile slips onto his lips before flattening back out. He rubs her hand, trying to calm her down. You can’t stop the jealousy burning from within.
“I didn’t mean you, Mr. Sainz.”
The 29 year old brushed you as if nothing, a smile displayed. Eyeing you both, Ollie suddenly stands up, chair screeching. Why don’t you help me bring out the cookies I baked? Ever so gracefully, you nod. Following after her, you stop suddenly as she spins, hair slapping her face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? Are you here to ruin my life with your existence?”
“I might.”
Her left eye twitches as she growls angrily. If she didn’t make it this easy to tick her off, then you’d be bored, but luckily for you, it was unchallenging to get under her skin. “This is my wedding; my future husband - so don’t fuck that up like everything else you’ve ever done.”
You try to pretend as if her words didn’t affect you as you stare back blankly. Marching over to the counter, she opens up a box of cookies before sliding them onto a polished dish, leaving you standing there alone.
-
You thank the higher Gods for not letting you cross roads with Ollie for the next few days. Though, you’re a bit bummed out that you haven’t seen Carlos much either. Peeking out the window, you could see the way a group of workers hurried to set up for the joint bachelorette taking place later that night, right on the beach. The waves look magnificent, so without a second thought, you slip on a bikini before rushing out the door with your necessities.
Lathering a goop of coconut sunscreen, you hum softly to yourself. Weren’t you going out with your sister? Looking up, you see Carlos standing in front of you with his face slightly scrunched up from the bright sun. His cheeks looked as if they’d just been pinched. “Where to?”
He takes a seat next to you. “She said she was going out to go buy a few flowers for later. Said she would invite you.” You shake your head, already bored with the idea.
“You know her,” you tap your head, “Forgetful.”
He cocks his head to the side as he shuts his right eye for a moment. “You two don’t get along, do you?” You try making up a silly excuse. Of course we do. We’re sisters. But he’s looking right into your orbs as if he sees right past your weak attempts. “You’re right. I could be wrong.”
It stays quiet for a while - only the soft breeze being heard. You can see him from your peripheral vision; eyes shut as he takes in the moment of peace he hasn’t had since dawn. Long lashes fan his face, freckles scattered all over.
“Aren’t you too busy to be talking to me?”
“No. Plus, I should take time to get to know my future sister-in-law. Especially since I don't know anything about her even after dating her sister for 7 years.”
7 years.
Squinting at the waves, you slide your sunglasses on. “There’s not much to know, but I can try. I’m 19 years old, studying abroad in Spain, and grew up in Italy. I love the ocean, love a nice cup of hot chocolate - even though I’m allergic - so I only allow myself small sips during the winter. I like to pretend I know how to dance and I kill it in karaoke.” He laughs. You can’t dance? “Unfortunately, I can’t. Once, during my friend's wedding reception, I twirled right into her cake. I spent the entire day on supervision.”
“Dios mío…Remind me to watch out for you on our wedding day.”
Our wedding day. His words slightly sting as you pinch your nose swiftly. Standing up, you brush beads of sand off your legs. Your eyes roam the area before you find your father waving you over. “I should go,” you say as you look down at him. His brown eyes scan you before nodding and standing up. He, too, looks over to where your father waits to introduce you to a group of businessmen. He frowns and that's when you realize just how revealing your bikini might have been, only it's too late now.
“Papi always taught us to greet our elders.”
He clenches his jaw, eyes closing for a second. When his gaze meets yours, you almost choke with how dark and twisted it’s become. “Aren’t you too old to be calling him that?” Confused, you tilt your head.
“Calling him wh- Papi?”
He grinds his teeth together - and then just like that - he’s smiling again.
“Forget it. How would I know?”
-
Standing next to an empty table, you watch as Carlos and your sister dance along with everyone else. This party has allowed you to pick up on the fact that they seemed to be a much more important couple than you had anticipated. Everyone looked at the Spaniard as if he were a God himself - and being quite truthful - you would agree. There was nothing about him that wasn’t flawless.
Then, Ollie, just looked like any other person. Her eyes were bright, but any time anyone would walk up to him, her stare would become threatening. As if she was his owner and no one else could get close enough to breathe the same air.
Everyone here was older; that much you could tell. Attendees were accompanied by girlfriends or fiancée’s of their own. It made you feel a bit childish, since you clearly were the youngest one there. Reaching out for your margarita, you twirl the straw.
“Not having fun?”
Your attention directs itself to a dirty, blondish, brunette. He looks a bit tipsy, face flushed as he smiles sweetly. He’s tall, handsome. But not as much as Carlos.
“Max,” he introduces himself. Politely, you shake his hand. He points to the large group that dances on the sand. He lets out a croaky laugh. “They could get a bit much sometimes.” You laugh, nodding along with him. He continues talking to you. Brings up how he knows Carlos from driving with him; except he’s signed to Red Bull.
“Everyone here is invited only if they're a driver, huh?” It’s a lame joke, but he laughs and throws his head back as if it were the most fascinating thing he’s heard all night.
“It’s a small circle, but I promise, they're all nice lads.” Discreetly, he takes in your appearance. The way your black dress dances with the wind. Painted red nails glistening under the golden lights.
You were beautiful. Tragically, beautiful.
“You know the groom or the bride?”
“Bride.”
He nods, taking a sip of the beer bottle he had been nursing. You both continue your conversation for a while longer. He’s Dutch. Recently 26. You mention your headache before he brushes his fingers against your hand. Looking down, he pulls away before clearing his throat. He apologizes and asks if you would like to dance. A soft melody now plays and you find yourself taking his hand. It's big as yours disappears into it.
Almost as if he’s shy, he carefully slides his hands down to your waist. You giggle as you throw yours over his shoulders. “I hope slowing down helps get rid of your migraine. Sucks. I get lots of those during race weekends.”
“It is. Thank you for caring.”
He’s sweet. You can tell with the way he blushes when you mention the way you like his dimples. Slowly, you find yourself enjoying his company. You’re in the middle of laughing at some stupid joke he just told, when someone rudely clears their throat. Carlos’ smile appears bitter as he shakes his head.
“I’m sorry - I’ve probably killed the mood.”
“No problem, mate. We were just talking.”
He clicks his tongue before turning to you. Under his scrutiny, you feel as if you’ve just been caught smoking weed for the first time. Dazed, you hum, waiting for him to say something. You know it’s not your place to feel as if he owes you an apology, but you can’t help it.
“Ollie said it’s best if you went to bed.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. Since when does she care if I get a good night's rest? He huffs before running a hand through his hair. “She - she…Just do as you’re told, please.”
Now you’re bothered. Up until that point, you were actually having a good time. Dumbfounded, you turn to Max as he smiles understandingly. Pursing your lips, you apologize. Tippy toeing, you lean up to press a kiss against his stubble. He smiles.
“See you around?”
“See you around, Maxie.”
Walking into the lonely house, you let out a sigh as you pour yourself a cup of water. The summer heat had completely dehydrated you. You could still hear the soft beat playing from outside as you sway in the kitchen. You were upset - angry - that your sister had cut your night short. And any other time you would have put up a good fight, but thought it’d be best to not make a fool out of yourself. Especially in front of people you barely knew.
The door sliding open has you alert as you look up. Carlos silently makes his way in as he groans with exhaustion. Loopy eyes match yours as he clears his throat awkwardly. “So��What were you talking about with Max?”
“Nothing that should concern you.”
His jaw clenches, a large hand running along it. Stepping closer, he takes your cup of water before chugging it down. It leaves you hot and bothered just how close he is. It’s a mixture of salt and musk, his scent. It makes your head spin. Lazily, he takes a step back before nodding.
“Right. Have a good night.”
-
Carlos knew he had messed up. He had no right lying and saying Ollie had ordered for you to go to bed. That was completely him. It’s just that - seeing you with Max, laughing, smiling, made him seethe - when he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend, after all.
So, he was embarrassed. He kept his distance. In his head it made sense. If you weren’t near then he wouldn’t feel the need to keep his eyes on you all the time. The house felt lonelier, colder without you sliding down the hallways. Rightfully so, you had spent your days locked up in your room. The only person that made happy was Ollie.
Either way, maybe it was for the best. He had a ton of shit to do. Starting with changing their honeymoon destination for what seemed like the millionth time that month. First, it was the Maldives, then Cancún - God - he knew that in a few hours his fiancée would come up with a new place.
“I know, I know we said that, but it’s changed.” He paces the office, stressed. “Can you please just make it fucking happen?”
“Ouch.”
Turning his attention, he sees you peeking at the entrance, phone still pressed up against his ear. Pouting, you enter, sweet aroma filling the room. Excusing himself, he ends the call. “Need anything?” He honestly cared for your response. It had been days without seeing you and he was afraid he blew it before he even had a chance to marry your sister. He told himself it was only because he cared for your relationship with Ollie. But fuck that - he knew not even you both cared that much about each other.
Shaking your head, you walk closer. “You sounded mean. Not a nice look on you, Mr. Sainz.” You’re teasing. You had to be.
“That wasn’t mean. It's called being straight forward.”
Ignoring him, you curiously eye the dark office. Books, trophies, helmets. Letting out a snort, you pick up the nearest picture frame. In it, it’s Carlos and Ollie, smiling wide. Tears brim her eyes as he looks down at her. The sight makes you want to puke.
“When was this taken?”
“The day of our engagement.”
You hum, already setting it back down. You can’t help but picture the impossible. That in the picture it was you instead of her, that you wore that diamond ring, that he looked at you.
Fuck her, honestly.
“Why’d you propose?”
He’s thrown off by your question. He’s expecting you to bring up the fact that it was a joke, but when you looked back for a response, he found himself with a dry mouth. Because I love her?
“Jesus,” you shudder, taking a seat on top of his desk. His eyes wander down your tan legs as you rest them on top of his chair. You're playing mind games - he’s well aware - and still he found himself following them. You were the worst temptation out there. It’s as if you knew the power you held. “I bet fucking her is a chore.”
Shocked at your words, he finds himself dumbstruck. He knew you two didn’t get along, but what the fuck happened for you to aim such insults?
He knows Ollie. Sure, she was a bit much at times, but she was nice. She was pretty. There was no need for your vile words.
You can tell he’s about to get defensive about her and that makes you shrink. Willing, you had handed him a reason to choose her over you.
Looking back at the picture, you purse your lips. “Sorry. That wasn't the right thing to say.”
“You should leave.”
You’re embarrassed over him kicking you out, but you knew you had crossed the line. So much for a peaceful afternoon. You comply, jumping off the desk. Not before making your way over, pressing your soft lips against his neck, which was the only place you could reach, even after tippy toeing. You felt him get stiff.
“Excuse my manners, Carlos.”
Skipping out the door, he’s left with a single thought.
He’s fucked.
-
The next morning, you’re forced to spend the day with your sister. Whether it was for running errands, fighting; it didn’t matter. As long as you made your father happy. All he wanted was for his girls to get along.
“Go,” Ollie growls as she hands you your bridesmaid dress. Snatching it from her, you slowly climb up the stairs to your room.
It’s a beautiful dress. Strong, dark, cherry red. Just like blood. It hugs your curves the way you’ve always thought all dresses should. For that reason, too, it made you look…older. Trying your best to get rid of the wrinkles, you smooth it down before making your way back.
Papi loves it as he starts throwing out compliments. You look beautiful, tesoro! You are a true gem. His eyes are bright and proud as you stand there with a shy smile. And though you thanked him, nothing else mattered but the man right in front of you.
The Spaniard had just gotten back from a meeting. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to eat and sleep the rest of the day, but as soon as he saw a balsé Ollie and an eager father-in-law, he was interested. She had told him to go relax; practically pushing him away. But as soon as you walked down those stairs, he swore his heart had never melted with such a sight.
His eyes became fixated to the point of no return. You stand there like a divine temptress. A siren who was mixed with innocence. Enough to drool over, but also, to adore from afar. Someone he could worship. If God decided this were his last day on Earth, then he would happily follow, since he finally felt as if his life were complete.
His big brown eyes are glued onto you as your father spins you. Ollie’s attention flickers between her younger sister and her fiancé. Tears fill up her eyes as she springs off the couch. You’re not bothered by it; don’t even bat an eye. That is until Carlos quickly runs off after her. That was a slap to the face as you show off a wounded smile to your father who stands there lost at the sudden commotion.
Later on that day, you find yourself trying to forget it all with watered down tequila. That’s really all you could find in such short notice. Leaning against the balcony, you study the soft waves, cold wind causing your skin to flash small goosebumps.
“Disgusting,” you mumble as you finish the rest of the alcoholic drink. Who knew a simple encounter would set you off?
“Woah there. Are you okay?”
Max cautiously steps closer as you shrug with a sigh. What was there to say? I’m a horrible person. I’m a horrible sister. And yes, we might not get along, but never in a million years did I think I would be falling in love with my future brother-in-law.
“What are you doing up so late?”
Sheepishly, he raises his cigarette. Letting out a low hum, you raise a brow. “Can I have one?” He knows he shouldn't be the one to give a teenager a form of drug, but you looked so upset, so drained, that he felt as if you needed it. Lighting it up, you bring it up to your lips as you squint at him. He laughs.
“First time?”
“No. It’s just been a while.”
You’re still not looking at him, but he notices the way you let out shaky breaths. The way you softly pinch your forearm. He frowns.
“I know we only just met, but do you want to talk about it?”
And maybe it was the gist of the moment. Or that he was being sweet - showing that he cared, but it worked because next thing you knew, you were kissing. He lets out an erotic moan with the taste of your lips. All a mix of cigarettes and tequila. This is wrong. He was friends with Carlos and you were only doing this in a moment of weakness, but you just couldn’t stop. Neither could he. Not when you tasted like a thousand crimes.
His large hands grab your ass as you gasp, brushing against his cock. He hissed as he pressed his lips much harder. Surely, you will have bruises tomorrow. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you grind against him. Clumsily, you both make your way to the couch that’s nearby. Straddling him, you continue to dry humping. Slowly, but surely, the warm sensation between your legs starts to form. Panting, you pull away as he tries to angle his face closer to yours. You smile tauntingly.
“You know what you remind me of?”
You hum, leisurely picking up your filthy actions. He bites back a smile as he grips harder onto your hips.
“A Lolita.”
A menacing smile looks down at him before you kiss down his thick neck, soft bites being left behind. You can’t recall the moment you start bouncing on his cock, or when he sprawls you open like a map, kneeling down in front of you. It’s all a haze; a delicious one, too. You’re falling like a feather from your climax when you hear a thud. Did you hear that? No, he would mumble as he peppers kisses onto your soft skin.
The tides are crashing harder now, signaling that the night was growing older. Timidly, you share a goodbye as you start to skip your way back into your room, but one last thing caught your attention.
A broken flower pot on its side and dirt trailing into the Italian home.
-
More days had passed since your last encounter with the devilish Spaniard. If you were ever in the same room, he wouldn’t even glance at you. He would simply just walk past by. He was mad. Upset about something. You tried to think of what it might’ve been, but when he walked into his office with an infuriated expression, you decided it was time to call a truce.
Knocking, you flinch at his sharp tone when he commands you away. Ignoring it, you still step in. Head thrown against his chair, man spreading, he has his eyes screwed shut.
“Are you okay?”
Your tone is sticky like honey. It annoys him the way it strings him in. Drumming his finger against the large chair, he angles his head to look at you. You’re almost scared to ask again, so you decide to stand still until he speaks up.
“Why’d you do it?”
Puzzled, you purse your lips, waiting for further explanation. What was he talking about? Did you do something to make him upset? The thought alone made you feel queasy. When he notices you still don’t understand, he clicks his tongue.
“Why would you fuck a friend of mine?”
Oh. Was it possible that this was something he was jealous of? Bewildered, you know you can’t deny it so you start to word-vomit. I am so sorry, Carlos. He came onto me that night - he kissed me first. I was confused. I was lured in by his words. I didn’t know what I was doing-
His eyes soften up as you try your best to break it down. But you were a liar; a good one. You knew damn well it was all you. You had kissed him first. You threw him under the bus and you knew that. Did he deserve it? No. Of course not. But you couldn't handle the Spaniard being mad at you.
He signals for you to get closer. Securely, he grasps your hand and hauls you onto his lap. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve suddenly become; how your mind replicates a plate of jello.
“I’m sorry he made you feel like that.”
His rough fingers slide up and down your arms and even that leaves you buzzing. Suddenly, you feel feeble. You assure him that you were fine - that it was no big deal. The way he looks at you is what gives you the confidence to lean in closer. A trace of panic slashes his face for a second. He should probably stop this before anything else happens. There was nothing okay about your ass pressed up against him. Or him craving to taste your plump lips.
“He didn’t make me feel anything I haven't before.”
Your implication irks him far too much, he starts to consider this all an unhealthy encounter. He can’t stop the images of you being with other men. Someone else kissing you, pleasuring you. Whilst your words were suggestive, your features were anything but that. Wide eyes stare back at him, slightly crinkled. Moving your body, you scoot closer as if you weren't already. He growls as he pinches your hip. Then, you're kissing his neck, and he should be pushing you off, but he’s too far gone to pick up on how wrong this all was. I’m sorry I’ve upset you, Mr. Sainz. I didn’t think you would care who fucked me or not.
“I-I don’t. It’s just that you shouldn't be doing stuff like that. You’re too young for all that.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” You narrow your eyes. “I’m wiser than one might think. I’m mature enough to know who can and can’t fuck me the way I like.” Your gaze focuses extra hard with your confession. As if it were meant for him.
Pressing your ass one last time against his tight pants, you leap off, giggling.
“Take care, Carlos.”
-
It's a business dinner, your father fills you in as you sit nearby, enjoying a bowl of ice cream, hairollers dangling around your head. Pouting, you reach up to clip one back into place. He smiles.
“You know, lots of young, talented guys are going to be here. It could be a great opportunity to meet someone.”
You make a face at his idea. “Yeah. No, thank you.” Marching over to him, you gently pat his cheek. “I’m not here to meet anyone.”
Signhing, he grabs your hands. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Are you and Carlos…” Choking on your own saliva, you push away. What? No. Of course not! Why would you even think that? He lets out a breath of relief. “It’s nothing. Ollie just brought it up, but I told her you would never actually do something like that. I know my precious girl.”
The door creaks open as Satan herself walks in, followed by an Angel. First thing you noticed are their intertwined hands. Ollie tries to be coy as she flashes the action right in front of you. She mainly greets your father as she sticks by Carlos like a piece of gum. Hello, he would say to you as you bite back a smile.
“What are we talking about?”
“Your sister might have a boyfriend by the end of the night, that's what,” your father jokes as you slap his shoulder. Boyfriend? The Spaniard’s eyes burn you, subtle threat evident. Ollie fakes a smile as she tugs him back a bit.
“Wow. You know what? That might actually be a good idea. Could help with how uptight you are. But I’m confused, boyfriend as in Max?”
Fury fills you as you shoot daggers right at her. Ollie’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction. You’re dating Max? “Of course not, papi! Ollie is just being a bitch.”
“No, no, no - I don’t think telling the truth is being a bitch. You should be happy, baby sister! You sure sounded like it when you let him fuck you out in the balcony.”
Shocked at her words, you can’t bring yourself to look at your father who stands disappointed. Ollie, that's enough, Carlos warns as he squeezes her hand. She yanks it away, jewelry clinging against each other.
“My bad. Shit, I forgot. I forgot no one knew what a slut you are. Opening your legs for any man around you. We’re lucky you’re not attracted to your own father.” She lets out a sour laugh. “Now, that would be fucked up.”
“That’s low, Ollie,” you spit, skin feeling as if it's on fire. You know where all this pent up anger is coming from, but she had no right to make up shit for fun. What kind of sister does that? Embarrassed, your eyes flicker to where Carlos stands with a hopeless expression. Licking your lips, you force yourself to walk away.
Slamming the door shut, you let out a loud scream. Why? Why was she always like this to you? A hard knock is what makes you wipe your tears away. Ollie slithers her way in. It hurt you how proud she looked. As if she had achieved something spectacular.
“The fuck - Are you crying?”
“What do you want?”
She takes a seat on your desk as she dusts off imaginary lint. “I just want to talk. The way sisters do.”
Ricocheting off the bed, you march over to her as you glare. “Sisters? No. You’re nothing of mine.” Ollie yawns as she rubs her eyes. Then, she clears her throat.
“Do you want to know why I hate you? You’re so stupid you probably don’t even know, but don’t worry - that’s what older sisters are for. I’ll explain it to you. Do you remember, Romeo?”
You do. It hits you all at once; the memories of the first man you ever slept with. He was nice - kind enough to teach you what a man likes. He had jet black hair, a smirk always lingering on his lips. He was tall and a local from where you grew up. He was the perfect experience.
But that still didn’t make any sense. What did he have to do with Ollie?
She lets out a wet laugh. Already, you can see her own tears as she tries to quickly wipe them away.
“I loved you; I did. You were my sister before my enemy. But I also loved him. He was my first love. Promised me a home high up in the hills. But do you know what it feels like to see someone you love fuck your little sister against a wall?”
We probably shouldn’t-
Don’t worry. I’ve got you. No ones going to see us. Men love a good thrill.
“You and him…”
She licks her chapped lips. “We had barely started dating.”
“I didn’t know - I swear to God, I didn’t know!”
If you had, you never would’ve looked his way. Ollie was everything to you growing up. You admired her. Loved her. That’s why it broke you when she started pushing you away as if you were some disease. Later, when your parents got a divorce, she didn’t second guess it when she made the decision to stay behind; causing you to leave with your mother. She never cared for you after that and you never knew why.
But now you did.
“I was young…Younger than I am now, how was I supposed to know?”
“Well, I’m glad we agree on something. You truly don’t know anything.” Strolling over to you, she smiles at your desperate state. “Which is why I’m not making the same mistake twice. Stay away from my husband.”
-
Ollie’s words felt as if they had opened up past scars. You meant what you said. Romeo would have been someone you would have disregarded if you had known the truth. But like always, you were the one with the entire blame and that you didn’t like.
Despite wearing a pretty dress - one that everyone gawked at you for - you felt ugly. Has it always been this way? Maybe it did make sense as to why she despised you. Playing with your bracelets, you try to pretend you’re interested in meeting your fathers investors. You feel completely exposed when they all stare straight at your chest area.
“How are we all doing?”
They all look up at the Spanirad as they start spitting out their congratulations for his upcoming wedding. He thanks them before checking up on you. His eyes connect with yours. Butterflies swirl inside your stomach as you smile weakly. He’s the first one to truly talk to you that night. To show he cares about your wellbeing rather than the way your dress fits you. Though, you looked stunning as always. Excusing yourself, you make your way into the kitchen, looking for something stronger.
Serving yourself a shot of vodka, you throw your head back, burning sensation sliding down your throat. Coughing, you grip onto the counter. Soft moans whisper in between the walls. You stop breathing for a minute as you try your best to identify where it might be coming from. Striding closer, you press your ear against the closet door. Fuck, a mans voice groans. This is not something you should intervene with, it's not your right, but that all changes when you hear a name that makes you burn all over again. So fucking tight, Ollie.
Pushing the door open, you see your sister banging one of your fathers investors. Ben, you think his name is. Honestly, you could care less. Briskly, she pushes her gown back down as he zips his pants. You let out a cold laugh as you clap in amusement.
“Oh, God. This is great. Amazing. You really outdid yourself, Ol.”
Stepping forwards, she grabs your arm harshly as she tugs you out. “How much did you see?”
You purse your lips as you theatrically scrunch your face up in pleasure. “Oh, Ben! Fuck me! Oh, oh, yes, baby, right there!” You bow. “That much.”
“How old are you, sweetheart?” The brunette says as he scans your body. Ollie glares at him as he steps back.
“Not a word of this to Carlos.”
“Why would I keep this a secret? He deserves to know. What do you think, Benny?”
Panicked, the older man shakes his head as his eyes plead for mercy. That’s enough. Raising your hands up in defense, you grin back at Ollie. “You’re not mentioning anything if you know what's good for you.”
“Oh, yeah?” You tilt your head back. “And what’s good for me?”
“If you tell him anything of what you just heard - saw - then I’ll just tell him how you’ve been bending over for every man in this house. Charles, Lando, Lewis, Pierre…you name it.”
“He won’t believe you…”
She laughs sinisterly. “No, I think he will. I mean…You’ve already done it before.”
“Hey,” his soft voice enters the room as you turn to look at him. The Spaniard’s eyes dance between you and your sister and Ben. “Is something wrong?”
Ollie shakes her head with a bright smile as she walks up and kisses him. You flinch. “Nothing, amor. We were just talking.” She runs her hands through his hair as his eyes remain on you.
“Are you okay?”
Nodding, you grind your teeth together. “Yes. Ollie was just introducing me to Ben.” Awkwardly, the man waves from behind you. Slowly, Carlos nods.
“Papi asked me to introduce them. You know - with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing!”
“He was serious about tha- Oh. Okay.” He reaches down to take your sister's hand as he eyes you and Ben. “We should probably leave you two alone then.”
Hastily, you nod. “Sure.”
-
If you were willing to try and fix your relationship with Ollie before, then that was long gone. This is what you knew her for. A pretender. She wistfully makes everyone believe she’s some sort of saint, when really, she’s a wolf in sheep's clothing. She’s a hypocrite. She has a man that everyone desires and she does this?
You hated her.
You hated seeing the way she beams when Carlos’ mother gives her a necklace that belonged to her own mother. She didn’t deserve it. Or the way his sisters helped her slip in and out of her dress, making sure it's perfect for the big day.
Still, you try your best to be a supportive sister. Especially around the woman who raised a man like Carlos. Biting down on your lip, you take a sip of your champagne as Ollie disappears behind the curtains with the lady who is taking some last minute measurements. Reyes smiles warmly.
“We didn’t know Ollie had a younger sister.”
You smile. “Best well kept secret, right?” The older lady laughs. Your heart warms up as you notice it's the same way Carlos does. Ana and Blanca grin.
“Well, we’re glad to finally get to know you. Might I add, you’re beautiful. Those eyes!”
“Thank you,” you blush.
Ana takes a sip of her drink before clicking her fingers. “That’s what you remind me of! You - Carlos - almost have the same puppy eyes!” She turns to her mother. “Mamá! What’s that saying? Soulmates look alike…Something like that, no?”
“Be quiet, Ani,” Blanca hisses before smiling apologetically. “Excuse her - she can be a bit invasive.”
“No problem,” you reassure as you bite back a smile. Ana frowns.
“Lo siento, I don’t mean to come off as overbearing. It’s just that you do…”
Reyes clears her throat as she winks over at her daughter. “Don’t misunderstand us, please. We love Ollie, we do! It’s just…you’re different.” She examines you. “I like you.”
Their words stick with you like a post it. Do soulmates look alike? Playing with the sand, you circle your finger agonizingly slow. Why did their words matter so much to you?
“I always find you alone.”
You stick your tongue out at Carlos as he chuckles at your childish behavior. You pat the sand, inviting him to join you. What are you doing out here? You point at the ocean. “I told you it was my favorite place.”
“Ah. I see.”
You sneak in a quick look before looking straight ahead. “Nervous?”
“About?”
“Marrying a monster.”
He gives you a deadpan look, bumping his shoulder to yours. “She’s not that bad, you know.” He glances at you. “Ollie has been there for me through so much. Through my failures. Through my accomplishments. She’s the one who convinced me not to quit racing.”
“You were thinking of quitting?”
He nods. “It’s not as easy as it looks. It fucks you up mentally. But she…” He smiles. “She helped me overcome that. I thank her everyday for it.”
It’s a bittersweet feeling hearing him talk about her like that. On one hand, you’re thankful that she had made him realize that he should carry on doing what he loved. On the other, you knew her true reasons. She loved having a famous fiancé; someone she can brag out to the rest of the world.
Somewhere, far away, you hear a melody. It’s low enough that if you didn’t pay close attention, you wouldn’t catch on to it, but you did. You grab his hand, leading him to stand up. He quirks a full brow.
“Want to dance?”
“I thought you said you didn’t know how to.”
“Nice memory, old man.” You gently kick some sand towards him. “But I feel like dancing. Plus, you should be practicing.”
Tugging you closer, he hums. “Alright. Only because that's true.”
His hands feel warm against you - so much so - it feels as if he’s on fire. An ease comes to it, too, as you both sway under the moonlight. You giggle when he spins you, dress flying around you like petals. The way you grin makes his heart speed up in a way he’s never felt before. It’s alarming. He pinches your hip as you yelp.
“Mentirosa.”
“Wha- No, I’m not! Can’t dance to save my life.” Clumsily, you dig your toes into the sand. He winces playfully.
The air grows heavy the moment he brushes your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean against his warm hand. One look, and he’s hooked. It’s meant to be something lighthearted, but the way he wishes to feel your soft lips against his indicates that it’s not. He’s tried his best to see you for what you are; his fiancée’s little sister. Someone he shouldn’t find himself caring if they slept well, ate their three meals a day, or that they didn’t talk to any other man that wasn’t him or your father. This was sick and twisted and yet…
His lips meet yours as your eyes spring open for a nanosecond before letting yourself go under. It feels as if you’re exploding like firecrackers on a Fourth of July. Something about the way he cradles your face endearingly has your head spinning. Knees become weak, but his grip is secure. It’s better than you could have ever imagined. His tongue fights for dominance and when you don’t give it to him, he squeezes your ass. Moaning, you open your mouth and that's all it took. He kisses you the way you’ve seen in movies - only better. He’s hungry - desperate - for you as you smile against him. Biting down on his bottom lip, he groans as he kisses you harder than before. You were beginning to think your lips were about to snap.
Letting go, he stands there, staggered. He’s ashamed when he realizes that he regrets nothing. You both stay quiet; only waves crashing and heavy pants being heard. At first you think he’s going to apologize, and maybe that might have been the case, but no words would come out. Pressing a peck against his swollen lips, you smile.
“Goodnight, Carlos.”
-
Carlos rues the day that he kissed you because that only made things more complicated. He couldn’t find a way to not look for you when he walks into the garden, full of family and friends. Or the way he would want to punch Max when he made you laugh. But there is also something sweet. Like the way you would gossip with his sisters and share stories with his parents. He had never seen them laugh and smile so much, not even with Ollie.
He flinches at the cold hand that wraps around his own. Faking a smile, he presses a soft kiss on top of his fiancée’s head. Continuing the clicking against her glass, she smiles widely.
“Grazie a tutti per esservi uniti a noi!”
Everyone claps and a few of the drivers whistle. Rolling your eyes, you lean your head against your father’s shoulder. His heart skips a beat. Ollie continued her speech filled with thank you’s, thank you’s and more thank you’s. Your father kissed your cheek before making his way up to his eldest. Taking the microphone from Ollie, he starts to share warm felt memories about her. You have to admit, you’re jealous about their bond. Somewhere in the past, that had been viciously stolen from you. He notices the way you shrink with sadness and he finds himself about to walk over to you when Ollie laughs awkwardly. Amor. It’s your turn.
“Right.” Fixing his rolled up sleeves, he smiles at the crowd of guests. “Uh…Well like my fiancée said, we’re extremely happy to have you all here. It takes a lot to get this many people out here all at once.” A few laughs echo as he continues. “This means a lot to me, too, to have my friends and family. To have met new faces.” His gaze flickers past you as your breath hitches. “Many ask me what about Ollie made me fall in love with her…And I’m here to be as brutally honest as I could get. I love the way she makes me feel as crazy as the ocean. I could spend calm days with her and not worry about getting bored. Or I could find myself getting into trouble. Ollie has made me a better man. Because of her I know what true love is…” His loopy eyes meet yours. “True love are the waves that meet the shore.”
He lets out a sheepish smile. I want love like that, Lando yells out as he downs his glass of milk. Everyone claps and cheers and that’s where your nightmare begins.
Let’s give it up for the happy couple! Kiss, kiss, kiss!
The chants continue as Carlos let out a nervous laugh. That’s something private between me and her, he tries but finds himself being booed. Leaning down, he pulls Ollie in for a peck before pulling away with a tight lipped smile. He hates himself for his sudden realization.
Kissing her suddenly did feel like a chore.
With all the whoops and whistles being thrown out by friends, he finds himself trying to find you. It doesn’t take long as he notices you had picked up on your conversation with the Dutchman. His jaw clenches.
“Maybe Ollie’s younger sister would like to share a few words.”
Why would he say that? Frozen, you choke mid sip. Me? Your father beams as he nods excitedly. Oh! That’s such a great idea! Unfamiliar faces turn to look at you as they wait. Taking in a deep breath, you nod as you make your way over.
As he hands you the microphone, he can’t stop himself from grazing his fingers against your hand. Coughing, you yank it fast.
“Ciao a tutti.” Everyone greets you back as you lick your lips. You take a moment to figure out what to say, but there’s not much. Cringing, you try to come up with anything. “As some may know, I’m Ollie’s sister…And I could go on forever about how great she is-” You suppress a sarcastic laugh as Carlos knowingly winks. Your nerves ease up. “But I think I should talk about the man who makes my sister the happiest. Carlos Sainz…When I first met you, you seemed uptight - more than the Grinch - but slowly I got to know the man that even my papi swoons over.”
True, your father laughs. “You’re kind, respectful, and charming…Ollie is one very lucky girl. But there’s something also sensitive inside of you…Despite the permanent frown on your face, you still seem to like days by the ocean. Maybe it's a reminder that peace still exists or maybe it's the way…” Looking up, you see everyone staring deeply. Suddenly, you feel like this might be oversharing as you twirl your dress. “...Or maybe it's the way your face lights up when you take my sister dancing on the sand. Uh…Thank you for making her happy.” Handing the mic back to Carlos, you smile weakly at the strong claps.
“That was quite sentimental,” Max points out as you bite down on your finger. Was it too much? He shakes his head. “Don’t worry. It looks like you and Carlos get along well enough. I, for sure, thought he hated you with the way he looks at you.”
“Oh. Yeah.” You pause. “I thought so, too.”
-
Aside from the fact that the wedding was approaching quickly, the mansion was quiet. The silence can almost be heard; it's scary. Carefully, you fix your dress as you skip down the stairs barefoot, lollipop painting your lips red.
Peeking around the corner, giddiness fills your body as you snatch a handful of pre-washed cherries. Earlier that day, your father had scolded you for finishing the new batch. Popping them into your mouth, you hum a song as you kick your legs against the kitchen counter. It creeps you out the moment a chill runs down your spine. As if someone were watching.
“Boo!”
“Santa mierda,” you yelp as you clutch your heart. Laughing loudly, the Spaniard bends over as he gasps for air. You pout and kick his knee. “Cabrón, you scared me! Warn a girl!”
“Fuck - I’m sorry.” His lips form a thin line as he stands firm. Slowly, the corners lift up, wobbly at his poor attempt to not burst out laughing. You frown.
“You’re fucked up.”
Again, his laughs echo the dimly lit kitchen. “Can I have some?”
“No. They’re mine. Grab your own.”
He narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you on cherry prohibition or something like that?” You gasp as you look around before flipping him off.
“Keep your voice low or papi will disown me!”
He zips his lips as he whispers. “I won’t tell a soul. But I want one of those in exchange.”
Tapping your finger against your lip, you pretend to think about it before nodding. You extend your hand out, a single red cherry for him. You’re waiting for him to take it and leave to where he came from, but what he does instead has you swallowing a lump down your throat.
Crouching down, he opens his mouth as he picks up the cherry, lips slightly wrapping around your fingers. This was triggering you as you tried your best to keep sane. But there was no way of going about that when he looked up at you with deep, brown eyes. Licking the red juice sliding down your hands, he steps back. He licks his lips before swallowing. It amazes you the way his Adam’s Apple jumps up and down; thick neck begging to be sucked on.
“Fucking delicious.”
Blinking, you look down at the rest of the cherries in hand. All of a sudden they seemed like a sultry fruit rather than a drupe.
“Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Of cours-s-e.”
Stupefied, you throw the leftovers straight into the trash bin. You had no clue what made you do that. A small chuckle escapes past his lips as you shut your eyes in embarrassment. Maybe they weren’t as sweet as you made them seem. Too mortified to speak, you keep your eyes focused on the way your feet hit the wood as a distraction. It takes all of you to not run away as he steps closer once again.
“Is there something in that dirty little mind of yours?”
The room feels hot all of a sudden as you shake your head. There’s no words in your vocabulary when he stands this close. You can smell his cologne mixed with shampoo. If richness were a scent then this would definitely be it. His hands cage you in like a butterfly behind glass. Clicking his tongue, he steps aside as you let out a shaky breath. Taking the opportunity, you jump off the edge, bare feet slapping against the cold tiles. Cuidado, he mutters when you almost slip from the sudden action.
“If you need anything I’ll be upstairs.”
Not sure why you said that, but it seemed like a rationalized excuse. Por supuesto. And that would have been the end of your night. That would have been another successful day of not falling for the forbidden apple. You had held out for so long; the kiss didn’t count. But it only takes a few steps for him to clear his throat. Almost as if this were your secret language, you spin and you find him staring after you; dazzling eyes following your every movement as if he’s trying his best to decipher anything you do.
Smiling wide enough for your eyes to look as if they had a smile of their own, you think - fuck the consequences - as you clumsily run up to him; jumping like a kid onto a tree. Legs wrap around his torso and his hands hold you close to him.
“Do you-”
“Yes,” he whispers. “Since the first day you walked through those doors: yes.”
If you had thought you were obsessed with his kisses before, you were wrong. So very wrong. Because now you were addicted. He kisses you with urgency as you run your hands through his locks, so soft against your fingers. He grunts when you tug on it.
His kisses were stimulating enough for you to plead for something. Anything. Smirking, he pecks your nose before leading you both upstairs. It amazed you how he could continue kissing you as he hurried to get to the bedroom. Noticing him making his way into his and Ollie’s, you pull away. There’s no way you would let him do that. You spin your finger lazily through his hair.
“How about mine?”
He doesn't care if he fucked you against the floor, he needed you. Kicking the door shut, he throws you onto your bed as you squeal. He smiles fondly as you brush your hair out of your face. He’s had his fair share of girls. Models, nepo-babies, Ollie, but none of them compare to you.
He was almost scared of touching you again, even though that’s exactly what he wanted. Doe eyes stare back at him as his cock gets harder at the sight. Ollie had always tried her best to look at him that way, but you didn’t even have to try. It naturally happened. Nothing about this felt forced.
You look untouchable. Like a complete goddess waiting to be ruined. Carlos, you would say as you squeeze your tits, eyes struggling to stay open. Carlos, please. Don’t be mean. Towering over you, he shakes his head.
“Linda, I could never be mean to you.”
Slipping your dress off, he groans when he sees you weren’t wearing anything underneath. He shuts his eyes as he tries to not finish inside his pants, which by the way, were starting to hurt. He pinches your nipple before slapping your tits. You hiss.
“Please tell me you did this for me and no one else…”
“You know it’s always been for you.”
With that, he stands up as he yanks his shirt off; jeans and boxers following right after. A bit worried, you find yourself staring at his rock hard dick. You had never been with some as big as him; it kind of looked as if it would split you right open. That didn’t stop you from wanting it, though.
“Don’t worry. I’ll prepare you nice and good, cariño.”
His lustful tone snaps you out of it as you nod. His fingers rub your wet folds as you cling onto his bicep. C-Carlos. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos as he focuses on the way your face pinches. He slowly starts slipping his finger in as you gasp at the thickness. So big and long. He chuckles. “Oh, come on now. It’s not even fully inside of you yet.”
Stunned, you look down and sure enough, it isn’t. You almost cry out when you notice it’s barely even the tip. “I don’t think it’s going to fit.” He kisses your temple as he slips his finger back out.
“Let’s start off with something else then.”
You almost pass out when he angles himself in front of your pussy. Glistening clit stares back at him as he moans. So pretty, he thinks as he touches you slowly. He stops himself, though, as he goes in for kitten licks instead. You squirm. His large hands pushed you down against the bed, to keep you in place.
“Do you want me to make the ache in between your legs go away?”
“Yes.”
His pink tongue teases you as he hums. You bite down sharply. “You’re going to have to stay still. Relax, bonita.” Following instructions, you close your eyes, trying your best to not think of the handsome Spaniard. As if that were possible. Impressed, he leans in again as he licks you, picking up your pre-cum. Oh, fuck.
Then it’s almost as if Carlos is taken over by something as he dives in like some animal. His stubble burns your legs, but you’re too fucked out to even care. You’re sure you're being loud, but how can you not be when he licks and sticks his tongue inside of you, exploring places you never knew existed. You choke back a moan when he rubs his nose against your clit, only adding to the euphoria.
“Yes. Oh. Fuck, yes.” Looking down at the brunette, you find him taking in your appearance as he rubs himself against the sheets; a way to try and pleasure himself. And that’s enough for you to cum all over his face. He smiles as he greedily tries to drink up everything you give him. He knows he lost control, but he loves the way you were able to keep up. To take everything he gave you.
And that was only going to multiply.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans in between your legs, picking up the white nectar. Crying out, you push his face away as you gasp for air. He sucks your tits as you take a break. His tongue swirls around your bud as you wiggle against him like a fish that jumped out onto land. He laughs. “Can you handle my fingers, now?”
No, you whisper as you push him away. But he knows you’re giving up too soon. He knows there’s an animal inside of you and he’s just waiting for it to decide to join him. He ignores you as he slides his fingers down to your center. You mewl against him. “Hey, hey, I got you, cariño. I’m right here.”
His voice makes you clench harder against his fingers as he grins like a kid at a candy store. Slowly, you start dripping more than before, making it easier for his fingers to slide in and out of your hole. Can you handle a third? “Yes,” you respond, eyes still screwed shut. Hot air hits your ear.
“There she is…Good girl. Justo asi.”
Picking up speed, his fingers reach the gummy part inside of you as you scratch his arms in an attempt to remind yourself to not black out. His long fingers cross, doing figure 8’s as he touches your g-spot as if he knows your entire body better than any map. Leaning up, he bites down onto your nipple before sucking hard. You should be embarrassed with the way you squeal and shake against his actions, but he just made it so hard not to. Much to your surprise, if you dare believe it, he does the thing you last expected.
He adds a fourth digit.
“No, no, no,” you pathetically chant as your eyes fly open. He cocks his head to he side as he clicks in tongue as if seeing you struggle filled him with pride.
“Ah, ah, ah. Just trust me; do you trust me?”
He didn’t need to ask because he knew you did. I do, you whimper out as you start grinding against his fingers. Amazement fills his dark eyes as he looks down to where you clench around him, juices sliding down his arm. It only takes a couple of more swirls before your shriek, velvety walls clenching around him as you reach your climax.
Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he licks your cum as if it were a meal he’s dreamed of having his entire life. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him lick them clean. You’re sure he’s going to fuck you now, but that flies out the window as he lays down as he drags you onto his face.
This man had stamina. Lots of it. You're trying to beg for a break of some sort. I can suck your dick. Give you a handjob. Just please let me rest. But he wasn’t even listening.
Maybe somewhere deep down, he knew this would be the only night he would have you to himself and if that meant no pauses, then he would push all your buttons.
Like a starved man, he starts licking you all over as you grind against his face. The way he sucks on your clit and adds his fingers make you squeal as you push down harder. His nose rubs against you in such a way, it has you seeing stars. He seems to be enjoying that though, as his moans vibrate against you. Biting hard onto your lip, you try to distract yourself as you reach behind you for his rock hard cock. The moment your small hand wraps around him, he growls like a lion.
Smug over his reaction, your hand slowly starts jerking him off as he eats you out with more urgency. It takes all of you to control your actions as he shakes his face in between your legs. S-slow down, Carlos. He grunts as his actions speed up, but so does your hand. Gripping onto his erection much harder, you furrow your brows as you twist your wrist. Choking on your juices, he opens his eyes wide, whimpers flying past his lips.
Smiling down like the devil, you nod as your hand picks up its pace. Now it's his turn to be groaning with pleasure. He seems to have forgotten what he was doing as he takes in strong whiffs of your aroma. You shudder when his warm breaths escape to warm up your dripping pussy.
His cock twitches and he seems to snap right back into it; already diving back into your hole. Lurching forward, you grip onto his hair as the other remains wrapped around him. It’s a game to see who can make the other cum first, and you were not about to be the loser.
Lively, you circle your thumb around his pink tip as he groans and finishes all around your hand. Sucking hard, he bites gently onto your clit as you screech and trap his head between your thighs. Shaking, you twitch against him as you reach your third orgasm that night. Huffing, you roll off him as he laps his tongue.
The way he looks at you makes you want to ride his face all over again, but you know you needed a break if you didn’t want the night to end so soon. Kneeling in front of him, you raise your ass up high as you lean down to wrap your lips around his cock. He flinches, slightly sensitive, but doesn’t dare push you away. Instead, he rubs your face with his calloused thumb; encouraging you. There's something so hot about the way your lips stretch around his fat cock. The way drool exits your mouth, messy blots of mascaras on the corners of your eyes.
Light of my life. Fire of my loins.
Gagging around him, you squeeze your eyes shut, feet curling up along the way. For sure, your throat would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you wanted that. Deepthroating him as best as you can, your small hands wrap around the rest of his length. He was huge. Dirty slurps bounce off the walls. You try your best to not pull away when you feel his sticky pre-cum connect inside your throat. Not when he looked so good with his head thrown back. His thick neck is a clear display. With his large hands wrapped around your hair as he fucks your face like theres no tomorrow. Spanish curses flowing past his lips.
“Que linda. Arrodillada como una santa.”
When you giggle around his erection, he groans, head thudding against the headboard. His mind quickly slips over to Ollie - but not in the way one might expect. It hits him like a truck when he compares her to you. With Ollie, she would last at least 20 minutes before calling it a night. He pretended not to mind - he would never force her to do something she doesn’t want to, of course - but once she would knock out, his large hand would slide down past his boxers, looking for a new release.
Then there’s you, ever so pretty. It seems like with everything you do, you want more. You sucking him off as if you’ve done this for him a lifetime ago. Sure, you’re struggling, but that only makes him harder. You’re trying to keep up with him and it’s working. Now, it’s like he’s the one trying to keep up. Swallowing, your throat closes around him as he flies forward, voice cracking as he presses for more.
Glossy eyes look back up at him as you repeat your action. With one last blow, he pulls out as he cums all over your face. His dick immediately gets hard again when you smile wide, fingers going to pick up his mess. Greedily, you pout as you wrap your lips around your finger like the lollipop you had been sucking on a few hours ago.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, abs contracting together as he tries his best to even out his breaths.
“Will you fuck me now?”
You’re moving at a snail's pace as you lick his sweaty neck. A chill runs down his spine with the feeling of your warm tongue. Grinding slowly against his thigh, you throw your head back with pleasure, wet lips rubbing against him. He smiles.
“You’re a dirty girl, you know that?”
“I thought that’s what you liked about me, papi.”
In a flash, he flips you onto your back as he hovers over you like a giant. A beautiful, beautiful, giant. His large muscles he works so hard for stare back at you as you admire with an open mouth. It looks as if he could carry mountains on his shoulders. Dilated pupils admire you as you let out a pathetic whimper. Long gone were his brown eyes as they now appear completely black. Sensual.
“Then you should be fucked as such.”
With that, he swings your tan legs over his broad shoulders, practically bending you like a pretzel. You pat yourself on the back for all those pilate classes. Jerking himself off a bit, he looks straight at you, making sure this was something you wanted. The way you bat your cartoon eyes is all he needs to slip inside of you.
First thing he notices is how tight you are despite him already stretching you out to perfection. Raw moans leave both your lips as you try your best to adjust to his size. You had been with men before - that’s all you really knew - but no one’s cock had ever made you burn with such satisfaction. More than satisfaction. He’s reassuring you with his words in order for you to relax.
I’ve got you, preciosa. Just let go for me. I’m right here.
Still, you can’t help but squirm underneath him. His fingers make their way to your mouth as you stare back confused. Suck, he commands before forcing them in. Caught off guard, you gag around them for a bit before your tongue begins to twirl around them. Your cheeks burn up as you hear your low mewls. Ah- ah- ah, you cry out against his digits as he grins down at you. Retracting them, he slides them down to your clit as he starts rubbing small circles.
“Oh God.”
Instantly, you open up against his tired cock as he hums. There you go, he praises as you make it easier for him to thrust into you. You should both be ashamed of the way gushy sounds bloom from your mixed cum. Or the way he pounds into you so hard and fast that it has you sliding further back against the bed, hair tangling along the way. His fingers dig into your calves as he holds them in place.
“Mierda,” he wheezes as he throws his head back, ripping his eyes away from the way your puffy clit envelopes around him. Pants and whimpers escape you as you arch your back from the fulfillment.
Carlos is a man - you know that - but in this moment; right now: he’s proving it the way a scientist would their hypothesis. His cock brushes against your g-spot as you gasp at the sensation. He’s looking at you as if you held the key to all secrets.
The keys for the gate to Heaven.
Though he knows that this all feels like Heaven, he deserves nothing but Hell for cheating on Ollie. But that’s the least of his worries.
“Does that feel good, bonita?”
Wide eyes look up at him desperately as you nod to the point where your neck starts to ache. Yes - Oh God, yes. So good, Carlitos. Yeah, baby - right there. Snapping his hips harder against you, your mind goes foggy with the way his hair flops around him. Sweat causing long strands to stick to his face. Beads of sweat drip down your legs as he presses sloppy kisses. His cheeks look as if he’s been out in the sun for hours.
In this moment; he looked immortal.
“Carlos, I’m gonna-”
“Hold it.”
Like a doll, you flop back against the bed as you start to leak acid. No - please. Don’t ask me to do that. Feeling a sharp sting, you gasp. His hands dives back in to massage your cheek after slapping you. He cocks his head with fake sympathy. “I know you can do it,” - thrust - “Wait for me, yeah?”
You have no word as you wail - tits bouncing with every assault from his hip. Your stomach burns with the way his abs glisten, with the way his bottom lip juts out, or the way his muscles shine with a layer of sweat as they hug your legs like a teddy bear.
He was yours. In this moment, he was yours.
“Alright, linda-” He brushes your hair out of your face as he wipes your sweat with his hand. “Cum for me?”
It’s an out of body experience the moment you squirt around his dick - the way your tummy feels like it's on fire. Sore groans leave his lips as he finishes inside of you, brown eyes trained on the way you gush around him. He freezes in place at the feeling. You squirm for a few seconds below falling limp against the bed. The room smells like nothing but filthy sex.
Pulling out of you, he carefully places your legs back down before kissing your ribs. Then your bruised tits. Then your cheeks, forehead, and lastly, your lips that taste like home. Sighing against him, you try your best to remember the way he kisses you as if you're the only form of oxygen that exists. As if this were a dystopian world and you were the only source of survival.
He pecks your lips once more before brushing his fingers against your temple. “Get some sleep.” Yawning, you nod as your eyes flutter like a butterfly's wings. Will you stay? And he doesn’t know what takes over him when he says-
“I will.”
-
When you wake up you notice it’s still dark out. The moon shines, eyes flickering around, looking for the Spaniard. You let out a low breath of relief when you see him sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Ollie,” he whispers into the phone as he runs a hand against his jaw. “...I made a mistake.”
Your heart stops with his words. He makes sure to speak low, thinking you're sound asleep. She - I - it was a mistake. She’s just a kid…Fuck. She’s just a child. Your heart shatters with the evident blame in his voice. You weren’t a kid. Sniffling, you stop breathing when you realize you’re crying. He pauses for a moment before standing up and making sure you’re okay. Bringing the phone up against his ear, he shakes, already walking out the door.
“Where are you? Let me just see you, amor. I’ll explain it all.”
-
There’s a saying that goes: You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating, just the same.
You would personally like to punch that person in the face. It’s not true. It doesn’t beat the same - because then why does it hurt everytime it pounds against your chest? Why is it hard to breath when the priest says-
“You may now kiss the bride!”
Everyone’s faces are blurry; cheers sound far away. You can’t be too sure you're standing upright as your father beams at the sight of Ollie pressing her lips up against Carlos. The way his hands slide down to her waist as shows her off proudly like some champion ring is what hurts the most. You feel flames all over your skin, letting out a flinch when your fathers signals for you to clap, too.
You don’t know what happened after that night. Whether Ollie forgave him or not - though clearly she had. Maybe she didn’t know about you the same way he didn’t know about Ben. This was all starting to feel like some nightmare. But it’s very much real life with the way the newlyweds hold hands, smiling brightly as guests throw a mixture of confetti and baby breath.
“Nice ceremony.”
“What? Oh.” You shrug towards Max as he points over at the couple. “Y-yeah. It was…”
He goes over his next words for a moment because Lord knows that if he has it all wrong then he would appear to be the biggest jerk to ever exist. “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”
“I-I-I’m not sure I understand,” you trample over your words as your cheeks burn the same color of your red dress. He shares a small smile.
“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”
Walking away, you’re left alone, second guessing everything. The violin seemed too happy. The guests seemed too bright. All of this was fake, couldn’t they see? Pursing your lips, you try your best to hide your broken heart as you catch up with old friends. How is college? How does it feel like having a brother-in-law who drives for Formula 1? Must feel pretty great, right?
The night is boring. Half of it you spend faking smiles and the other you spend trying to avoid the Spaniard. Life was better back in Spain, where ironically, he was never around despite it being his home country. You’re in the middle of conversing with the Dutchman - who quite frankly is an honest listener - when Ollie walks up looking like a ball of whipped cream. Can I talk to my sister alone, please? Max’s concerned eyes ask if you’re okay with that as you nod. Slumping away, he squeezes your knee one last time.
Blue Velvet plays as she fixes herself onto the stool right next to you. “Have you tried the cocktails? They have cherry flavored; your favorite.” Something about her sweet voice makes you unsteady as you raise a brow. She shows off her veneers. “This is weird. Sorry. I’m just so…happy.”
“Good to know.”
“But enough about me!” She places her left hand over yours, shiny rock sitting perfectly. You wince. “I want to talk about you! How’s school?”
“Like you care.”
She pouts. “I do now…” You furrow your brows. What do you mean now? She gasps. “Oh, you poor thing! You don’t know I know!” Your stomach drops. “Well, you know, as your older sister, I’m also your guardian since our mother is too fucked up to look after you…And a little birdie filled me in on your reputation back in Spain.” She giggles as she takes a sip of your drink. “Doesn’t surprise me, though. It only makes sense that you keep messing around with men old enough to be your father. You always had a thing for those.”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
Ollie grins ear to ear when she notices how annoyed you’ve become. “Carlos told you he was born in Madrid, right? Okay, well, he also has a whole bloodline there. And let’s just say, a cousin of his - my goodness, his daughters are beautiful - is a professor at your Uni.”
No.
“And well this birdie also told me how you’ve been sneaking in and out of his lecture room, late at night. And I wonder…What have you and him been doing behind closed doors?”
It can’t be.
Professor Vázquez de Castro, he says as he extends his hand out, eyes roaming every inch of your body.
Suddenly, the name sounds familiar. The surname is Carlos’ extended one. Ollie’s eyes shine. “I see it’s clicking.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to leave me and my husband alone. I want you to grab your things and leave. Don’t look back; just leave. Don’t contact papi ever again. I don’t want to hear a single thing from you. It’s bad enough you’ve already fucked my spouse.”
She knows. He told her. And they still got married.
“Ollie, don’t…”
Tugging your hand harshly, she slaps her phone on it. And you don’t know how, but in it, it’s a video of you riding your Professor - Carlos’ cousin.
“Leave or I’ll show this to him. Your choice.”
Wet sobs leave your mouth as you shake your head in disbelief. How did this happen? Who took this video?
“Ollie, please…I love him.”
Her gaze sharpens as she takes the phone back and stands up. “You know what to do.”
Bringing your shaky hand up to your lips, you stare in shock. Wobbly legs walk past Max as he asks if you’re okay. One last smile looks back at him before you brush past by.
Carlos is craning his neck, looking for you. He had confessed that night, but so had Ollie. He was breaking off the engagement. Spilling apologies as she cried against his chest. Despite it all, he still cared for your sister. But he knew it wasn’t going to work out. He was ready to leave when she brought up the tape of you and a cousin he didn’t even know he had. I’ll get her expelled. Don’t do this, Carlos. And so he stayed. He knew how much you loved school, regardless of what others might think. I just want to help others, you swooned one day by the pool. It’s what I wish someone had done for me.
You get to him before he spots you as you tap on his shoulder. He fills up with worry when he sees your red brimmed eyes. Sheepishly, you take his handkerchief as you wipe your rosy nose. What happened? Who made you cry? You shrug.
“Carlos…I love you.” He blinks. You let out a wet laugh as you lean up to kiss him. You didn’t care who saw anymore. This was it. He doesn’t seem to care either as his hands wrap around your waist. Holding you close, as if you might vanish into thin air. He was the waves, you were the shore. Pulling away, you wink. “Save me a dance, yeah?”
Then, you’re walking away. Becoming smaller as you stroll over to the Italian house. Clutching his chest, he chokes: I-I…I.
“Carlos!”
Turning to face Ollie, he sees her waving him over to the giant cake.
“Coming.”
-
Running into the quiet house, he calls your name. He looks behind every door, hoping to find the girl in red. Stumbling up the stairs, he swings your door open. He breathes heavily when he doesn’t find you, even here. Panicked, he grips his hair in despair. Only then, does it occur to him to open the restroom door, hoping to not scare you.
“¿Bonita?”
Silence. He still pushes it open as he carefully walks in, finding no harm in checking. And why? Why couldn’t he be as truthful like you were? Risk it the way you would have willingly done. Why did he let you walk into the house alone?
Falling to his knees, he desperately crawls over to your lifeless body, dark blood flowing from your wrists.
As red as your dress.
He must be dreaming. This can’t be real. Surely, it can’t.
“No, no, no.” He drags your limp body into his arms. He can’t even pinpoint the moment his tears flow down his face. “Bonita, no. No. No. No.” The Spaniard cradles your colorless face into his hands. He gently taps your face a few times, but almost stops breathing himself when it only rolls back. Blood stains his white shirt. “Hey, hey. C’mon, please. You want me to say it?” Hurriedly, he picks up your head as he kisses your lips over and over. He winces when he feels how chapped they’ve become.
“It doesn’t feel forced. I’m not saying it because I think it’s what you want to hear - I love you. I do. I love you as infinite as the ocean. I love the way you laugh, the way you trip over anything in your way, the way you say my name…I love you.”
But he knew you weren’t listening. Not anymore.
A piece of him died that day along with you. After that, life was a sickening blur. He’s out of it the moment he hears your father yelling out in agony or when Ollie screams at the gruesome scene.
None of it mattered anymore.
#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc drabble#charles leclerc f1#carlos sainz one shot#carlos sainz imagines#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz angst#carlos sainz drabble#carlos sainz icons#carlos sainz instagram edit#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen icons#max verstappen instagram au#max verstappen drabble#max verstappen angst#lando norris#lando norris smut#f1 fanfic#formula 1#f1 fic#charles leclerc#max verstappen#charles leclerc smut#carlos sainz smut#carlos sainz#max verstappen smut
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I’m kinda new to tumblr tbh but I need someone to write this so here goes lol
I love your writing and I was wondering if you could write a smut story where Chan is feeling kind of insecure about himself and the reader ends up jerking him off while like cooing to him how pretty he is
basically a fic where the reader praises the fuck out of Chan cause he deserves it 🥰
.·:*¨ insecure!bangchan x reader ¨*:·.
wc: 1.3k (the shortest i've written)
warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, kinda subby chan?, established relationship, insecurities, comfort, praise, body worship, sweet, fluffy, slight oral (m. rec), handjob, (lmk if i missed any)
a/n: omg. i just finished writing and i was about to go to bed and then i read this and immediately needed to write it. tysm @hyunjinx42 for this suggestion <3 i hope it lived up to what u wanted
i love getting suggestions so if anyone has anything they'd like me to write, pls lmk!!! i also have a taglist if anyone is interested!
.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.
You and your boyfriend were nestled comfortably on the plush, oversized couch, the soft glow of the table lamp casting a warm, inviting hue across the cozy living room. The air was filled with a serene ambiance, created by the gentle hum of the TV, which played a movie neither of you were particularly invested in. The flickering light from the screen danced across the room.
Your head rested gently on Chan’s broad shoulder, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest providing a comforting background to your quiet evening together. His arm, strong and reassuring, enveloped you in a protective embrace, pulling you close to him. The plush blanket draped over both of you felt like a cocoon, wrapping you in warmth.
Chan’s fingers traced idle patterns on your arm, his touch light and soothing. Yet, there was something different about his demeanor tonight. His usual warmth was overshadowed by a distant look in his eyes, as though his thoughts were caught in a whirlwind of uncertainties and insecurities that clouded his mind.
Sensing the shift in his mood, you shifted slightly, your instincts telling you that something was amiss. “Hey, Chan,” you said softly, your voice tender and concerned. “You okay?”
He sighed deeply, a sound laden with unspoken worries. His gaze flickered briefly to the TV screen, but it was clear his thoughts were elsewhere. The movie played on, a mere backdrop to the inner turmoil that occupied his mind. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, but his voice lacked its usual warmth, replaced by an undertone of hesitation.
With a gentle movement, you propped yourself up on one elbow, your eyes locked on his troubled expression. Your heart ached at the sight of him so distant, and you knew he was carrying a burden he wasn’t ready to share. “You don’t seem fine,” you said, your voice carrying a quiet intensity. “You’ve been distant for a while now. Talk to me, what’s on your mind?”
He hesitated, a fleeting moment of vulnerability crossing his features. He nervously bit his lower lip, a gesture that spoke volumes about the feelings he was experiencing. “It’s just… stupid thoughts,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your frown deepened, your concern growing. “Chan, you know you can talk to me about anything, right? No matter how silly it seems, I want to know what’s bothering you.”
He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of apprehension and sadness. “It’s just… sometimes I can’t help but think you could be with someone more attractive. Someone who’s… I don’t know, more everything than me.”
The words struck you like a cold wave, leaving you momentarily speechless. It had never occurred to you that he, the sexiest man alive, might harbor such insecurities about his appearance.
Before you could gather your thoughts, Chan continued, his voice trembling with a mix of vulnerability and self-doubt. “Like, I see the way other guys look at you, and they all seem to be models or something. And then there’s me. I mean, I know I can be sexy when I try, but it takes a lot of effort and makeup. Sometimes I just feel like you could do better, you know?”
The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, and you shook your head vehemently, your heart aching for him. “Chan, that’s not true,” you said firmly, your hands gently cupping his face. “You know that’s not true. You’re right about one thing—you look nothing like those other guys.”
You trailed your fingers down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate care. As you slowly opened the shirt, revealing his well-defined muscles, you couldn’t help but admire the smoothness of his skin. Your touch was tender, each movement imbued with love and reverence.
“They could never look like you,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his neck. “They could never have this sexy body, and your sexy voice, and your adorable dimple.”
As you kissed a trail down his chest, your lips lingering on his skin, you felt the tension in his body begin to dissolve. Your hands roamed over his muscles, appreciating the hard-earned contours of his physique. You adjusted your position, gracefully moving off the couch and onto your knees in front of him.
Your hands traced the lines of his toned abs, your fingers gently caressing the faint lines and bumps that spoke of countless hours in the gym. “Too sexy,” you whispered, looking up at him with a playful yet adoring smile.
His face flushed a deep crimson, and he looked down at you, his breath hitching in his throat. The vulnerability in his eyes was palpable, but there was also a flicker of desire that ignited as he watched you.
Your hands moved lower, reaching the waistband of his jeans. With a slow, deliberate motion, you unbuttoned and unzipped them, pulling them down along with his boxers. The anticipation in the air was electric as you exposed him to your view.
His half-hard cock was freed, and you wrapped your hand around it, gently stroking it.
"Nobody can have a prettier cock than you," you murmured, admiring its size and shape. "Not even a porn star."
Your hand ran slowly up and down his length, looking up at him.
He groaned, his cock twitching in your hand.
You smiled, moving closer. You pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock, then licked the slit, tasting the bead of precum that had formed.
"Did I mention the sexy voice?" you asked, looking up at him again. "And the pretty face? And the way your dimple looks when you smile?"
You gave the head a kitten lick, your hand moving faster.
"So beautiful," you whispered.
He moaned, his cock throbbing in your hand.
You smirked, pressing a wet kiss to the head. "Too bad nobody else can have you, you're all for me," you murmured, your other hand giving attention to his abs.
His face was flushed as he watched you touch him.
You stroked him faster, kissing his cock again. "I bet none of those guys could make me cum like you can," you whispered, licking up the side of his cock. "No one makes me feel as good as you."
His cock twitched in your hand, and he bit his lip, stifling another moan.
"Nobody stands a chance against your hot body, your cute face, and your amazing cock," you whispered, pumping him faster. "You're so sexy, you're too much."
He gasped, his cock pulsing in your hand. He was close.
"You're mine," you whispered, stroking him faster.
"Yours," he groaned, his cock throbbing in your hand.
"So pretty honey, nobody else compares," you mumbled, stroking him harder.
You pumped him faster, eager to feel him cum.
"Come for me baby," you whispered, licking the tip of his cock.
His body tensed, his hips jerking as he came. His cock throbbed, shooting hot cum over your face and hand.
"Even pretty when you cum," you murmured, stroking him through his orgasm.
His body shuddered as he finished, his cock twitching a few more times before he relaxed, breathing heavily.
You released his cock, smiling up at him. You looked up at him through heavy eyelids. "So sexy, and all mine."
He smiled, reaching for your face, and pulling you up for a kiss.
You smiled, breaking the kiss. "Is that enough proof?" you asked, wiping his cum off of your face.
He nodded, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you back onto the couch.
"Thank you for that, I love you," he murmured, holding you close.
"I love you, too," you said, nuzzling against him.
The two of you lay there in each other's arms, the TV still humming in the background.
.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.
taglist for my beauties: @loverbangchan, @reignessance
#stray kids x reader#skz#stray kids#skz smut#skz imagines#skz fic#skz x reader#stray kids imagines#straykids#stray kids bang chan#skz bang chan#bang chan smut#bang chan#bangchan smut#chan smut#chan fluff#skz chan#christopher bang#bangchan fluff
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Devil's minion fic rec list!
these are just a few recs I was putting together for some friends. this list isn't exhaustive, it's just what I've clicked on and enjoyed so far. the tag is updating at lightning speed right now (bless you all) so there is absolutely a bunch of amazing fics I haven't read yet!
btw these are majority show canon. I haven't read the books. also I made categories that made sense to me, if they don't make sense to you don't worry about it just ignore them lol
Post season 2
Dubai penthouse immediately after (turning daniel)
hold me like water (christ, hold me like a knife) by sahwen (6.7k) the vulnerability of armand in this one is so intriguing. I really loved it
in the detail(s) by infinitevariety (6.7k) a favorite line so far ‘armand curled up like a dying spider’. that's exactly him right after louis leaves
The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning by trinityofone (1.9k) daniel gets turned, but with an added power
Post turning daniel
two truths and a liar by andrealyn (9.9k) daniel goes on a book press tour and armand turns up
what's it called when a young guy pays old men for their company by
chaosandteo (1.3k) daniel's daughters find out he's a homewrecker
Couch Surfers' Honor by tihsho (1.3k) two things in my head: 1. armand curled around daniel like a creature 2. the way daniel stops drinking to bitch at armand I'm shrieking
During s2 (alternate canons)
how memory makes monsters into myth by blueskiddoo (5.9k) alice is armand theory, wip but I'm BIG EYES over it. I love the set up so far
the spiral is unspooling by reedroad (60k) wip but pretty hefty already (60k!). the devils minion chapter incorporated into the past of the show, with daniel uncovering his memories of armand. very good read with lush world building. my fav thing in this is how daniel is written, and his daughters popping up in the fic.
Past hijinks (post s2 canon)
you're sharp alright by LuckyDiceKirby (4.4k) mid 2000's daniel gets picked up by a weirdo at a bar :) it's a pattern
Post season 1 (before s2 came out)
outcast of all this night by gaypiratedivorce (37k) long and fun, armand follows daniel back to new york and stalks him while he writes this book. "Please don't tell me Louis dumped you and now you're fucking with my work to get back at him."
icarus' life has only just begun by andrealyn (15.9k) daniel gets de-aged (on purpose by armand) he wants to live a life with him from the beginning again
#devil's minion#armandaniel#fic recs#rec list#fanfic recs#iwtv#interview with the vampire#armand#daniel molloy#i may update these at random#or not idk lol#this is just a casual thing i was typing up for friends#not formal at all ok#if i messed up any of the links let me know!!
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hi dear author! how are you?
I have a request for Spencer where reader has a head injury and passes out and Spencer's reaction to it and the aftermath. I found your fic around 15 mins ago and I'm in love with them<3
Thank you!!
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Medical inaccuracies
A/N: I’m sensing a pattern with the request writing I’m doing—most of them deal with a head injury of some sort but I am having fun trying to make it different the the earlier works. No further editing was done but I hope you enjoy it!
Main masterlist
Bundle of Nerves. // Spencer Reid
The bright and playful disposition of your kindergarten students was one of things you looked forward to every Monday. How each student would go up to you to chatter about how their weekend went—family went to the park or to the library or to the beach—and how in return, they’ll ask if you also enjoyed the weekend as much as they did.
But something seemed off today, you really couldn’t specify where it all started. Maybe it was you falling back to sleep after your alarm went off, or maybe it was you missing breakfast, or maybe it was just all of the above.
Either way, everything was going sideways and it was just about to get worse. The lights seemed darker, the children’s voices were distorted, and the room was starting to sway. Feeling the need to sit down, you were only able to take a couple of steps to your desk before promptly fainting—smacking your forehead on the floor and the children screaming for help.
———
Spencer wasn’t one to wish for a case to land on JJ’s desk but at 1:30pm on a Monday, he found himself twiddling his thumbs and calculating his rocket launches using his expansive brain capacity—all paper filings done and submitted early. He swiveled to face Morgan who was caught red handed about to throw a paper clip in his direction.
“Hey Kid,” he cleared his throat, trying to act nonchalantly. “You done with your paperwork?”
“Yeah, now I’m thinking of how to improve my rocket magic. Hey do you think if I add more—”
The vibration of his phone on the table interrupted his sentence. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in the unregistered number. Curious but definitely wary, he pressed ‘accept’.
“Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Who is this?”
A female voice answered. “Hi Dr. Spencer Reid, I’m calling from Virginia State Hospital. Y/N had you listed down as her emergency contact. She was admitted—”
The remaining information all sounded muffled. His breathing was spiking up and all he could hear now was the rapid staccato beating of his heart. He couldn’t think straight. Is this what unknowing family members of victims feel when they receive a distress call? Like the rug was pulled under their feet? He couldn’t comprehend what to do, how to—
“Dr. Reid, are you still there?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes—yes, I’ll be there soon.”
Before the voice could say another word, he ended the call, was out of his desk, and up the steps to his unit chief’s office, SSA Aaron Hotchner.
“Reid, what is it?” the stern BAU leader clocking in the distress painted on the genius’ face.
“I-it’s Y/N. She was admitted at hospital and—”
He nodded. “Go, Reid. I’ll explain to the team and HR.”
With a quick ‘thank you’, he ducked out of the bullpen to the elevator, grateful that he opted to drive to Quantico today rather than take his usual train route.
Maybe he should have borrowed the government owned SUV instead, he thought to himself when he turned to the main road and saw the congestion. Hotch would have understood, he just wasn’t sure how to explain that in paperwork but this counted as an emergency, right? It felt like a life or death situation to him—for him and for you.
When he exited the bottleneck traffic, Spencer wanted to floor the gas. His foot itched to stomp on the accelerator and worry about the fines later. But the idea of getting caught, being pulled over, and wasting more precious seconds away from your side was enough for him to second guess it—that and his tight white knuckle grip on the steering wheel.
He should have asked for more information over the phone call but the second his mind registered the words, it went to overdrive and out of the window—his emotions were running high and clouding every logical thought possible. He had an IQ of 187 but all he could think of was you. You, the love of his life. You, his fiancee, lying down on a hospital bed, alone and unconscious. Any man, no matter how smart they are, would react the same way he did when it involves a loved one.
He parked his car at the first slot he could find in the hospital parking lot and ran straight to the reception.
“I’m looking for Y/N. She was admitted a while ago. I-I’m her fiancee.” Spencer hurriedly introduced himself.
The nurse nodded once, stating your floor and room number. Without so much as an acknowledgement, he ran to the nearest elevator and willed it to open any faster.
Spencer felt like he ran a marathon by the time he found your room and seeing you there, lying on your bed—conscious, thank god—took a little weight off his chest. He breathed out your name in relief. “What happened? Did you—did you hit your head?”
Your hand gingerly touched the bandage on your forehead. “I think so. I started to feel faint so I was walking back to my chair. I must have hit my head on my way down—”
He took your hands into his, kissing it. “You had me so worried. Did the doctor say anything? Diagnosis? Cause? Treatment?”
“No. When I came to, only a nurse was here. She left to page the doctor but it’s okay—I feel fine now.”
Spencer opened his mouth, no doubt to chide you about minimizing your pain and health, but then the doctor walked in with a clipboard on hand.
“Hi, I’m Doctor Smith. How are we feeling?”
“She said she was feeling faint before she hit her head. Does she have a concussion? Why did she feel faint—was it stress? Hypoglycemia? Labyrinthitis? Vertebrobasilar insufficiency?” Spencer rattled off.
“Well, your husband sure knows medical terminology. Are you a Doctor too?” the physician asked.
Spencer’s brows met in between, finding the whole interaction off-putting. Here he was about to have a nervous breakdown and your doctor was as calm as a cucumber. “Fiancee, actually, and yes Doctor, 3 Phds not MD.”
“Impressive, and to answer your questions, Doc. None of the above.”
His eyes widened. “Then it could be hypo—”
Dr. Smith smiled and shook his head. “It’s not that either.” He reached into his clipboard, removing a prescription pad, and quickly jotting down medicine. “Here you go. She’ll need to take a capsule a day and I suggest a healthy balanced meal, exercise, and plenty of bed rest.”
Spencer’s eyes widened when he realized what the chicken scratch handwriting said.
“What—what is it?” You asked in worry as Spencer seemed to have glitched.
The doctor grinned at you.“Congratulations, you’re pregnant.”
Silence.
“I-I’m what?!”
The doctor chuckled. “You’re 3 weeks along so you’re still in the early stages. Your body is still adjusting—the fainting spell was caused by change in your hormones and low blood pressure. I suggest you schedule an appointment with your OB/GYN as soon as possible and get ample rest—” he looked at the couple once more before exiting the room. “—congratulations, again.”
The tears that started to gather in your eyes seemed to bring Spencer back to life. “Oh love, are those—are those happy tears or—?”
You nodded. “Happy tears, Spence. I can’t believe it!”
He reached out to hug you to his chest. “I love you, Y/N. You make me feel like the luckiest man in the world.”
You giggled. “I guess we have to tell your team about the baby genius on board, huh?”
He laughed, remembering how Emily once asked him if he ever planned on having one and here he was about to become a father.
You gasp, causing him to lean back and look at you with worry—did he hug you too tight? Did you feel—
“I’m not going to fit in my wedding dress by then! Penny will have a fit! She had this vision and—”
He leaned down to interrupt your ramblings.
“I’m sure she’ll forgive you, especially if you're turning her into an aunt.”
You smiled, peering through your eyelashes. “Y’know we might have to find a new apartment soon. Just imagining how much shopping Penny would do for our baby genius even before he or she is born is making me shudder.”
He laughed. “Me too, love. Me too.”
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#gw fics#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#pau’s request inbox
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HIII!! just wanna preface that i LOVE your blog and your fics are my fav!! ilysm
So i have a general fic idea abt which is mainly js a bunch of different aspects i want mushed up into one fic but imagine virgin!miguel and semi-experienced!reader, and this involves his underrated wristussy, so like reader is super horny and ALSO mixing sub!miguel and this fic where miguel has a lot…of yk, so basically virginsub!miguel with his wristussy, lots of cum, and a reader with a mission.
sorry ik this is literally a mash up of 20 different things and fics and it might not make any sense but ik your mind can create great things! thank you so much and ily! ❤️❤️❤️
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Creampie, Loss of Virginity, Sub!Miguel
A/N: Thank you so much, lovie! Enjoy!!
Unedited
You would have never guessed.
To think the Miguel O'Hara had even less experience than you did was extremely surprising, yet completely satisfactory. It made you feel powerful, like you were slightly better than him. It fed something carnal in your brain, unlocking a hungry beast that was thirsting for more.
It made it easy to get Miguel under you, straddling his naked waist and teasing the tip of his twitchy, swollen cock with your warm hole. Having his breath seize in his throat as his hips tried to push up into you, seeking that undeniable pleasure that his body knew lay just between your parted legs. Something so close yet so painfully far away. It made you chuckle, seeing this big, strong man melt into a desperate mess under you with the slightest touch. All because his poor cock has never been choked by someone's warm walls before.
It's fascinating to watch, to study every jump of muscle as your hole parts to take him in. How his eyes roll and a look of desperate pain washes over his face as you take inch by inch of his cock until he's balls deep. Observing the way he whines at your moan as his cock twitches inside of you as the thick length tries to mold you to the shape of him. It's so delicious, especially when that's all it takes to break the poor hero.
You laugh meanly when you start moving, giddy when he starts to chase after your hole with no pattern. Sloppy, need-driven thrusts that don't completely align with your movements and make him whimper for more. Words escaping him until the only thing grounding him is the saturated image of him messily pumping his spent into your tight opening. Having it fill you so well that it ends up dripping around his dick and staining his balls. It has him drooling and pawing blindly at your skin.
It makes you puff at the stupid mutt under you, your hands grabbing his until you force them above his head. He tries to fight you- quite pathetically- as his mind screams at him to touch your skin in any place he can reach. You grunt as you have to readjust your hands, your thumb catching on an almost hollow spot just above the bone of his wrist. It catches you by surprised when he makes a tortured noise, body arching and lifting you up with him slightly. He makes the noise again when you're forced to tighten your grip on his wrists to keep you from falling off, your thumb pressing into the dented spot of his wrist.
Confused, you swipe your thumb over the area, understanding clicking in your brain when he whines and tries to twist away from you. A slow smirk covers your lips as you lean down to his ear, grinding your hips against him and ever so slowly swiping at the sensitive area.
"Miggy," You coo in a saccharine voice, "Are you okay? You seem flustered, baby."
Miguel pants, eyes lidded and his mind barely registering the words coming from your mouth. You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement before leaning back and taking one of his wrists with you. Your hips continue to buck against Miguel, letting his cock drag against your walls as your free hand comes to grip his chin. His eyes lock on your face, his lips parted in an attempt to get air into his lungs and let his pleasure escape in pitchy noises. You smile sweetly at him, bringing his wrist to your mouth and placing a small kiss to the small hole. Miguel lets out a noise that vaguely resembles a plea, and you hum against his skin in acknowledgement.
His eyes waver before focusing on your lips, eyes shiny with lust as he drowsily blinks. Your lips part slightly, your warm breath hitting his skin and causing his hips to buck up in anticipation. Your tongue pokes out, the tip of the muscle landing right beside the hollow, causing him to whine. You can't help the smile on your face as you give his cock a hard grind before pressing your tongue against his sensitive wrist.
Miguel's eyes roll back in seconds, a choked noise parting from his lips as his body quivers violently. You gasp as you feel him release inside of you, warmth rushing inside of you to the point that your lower half feels heavy. You desperately try to help him ride out the pleasure, moving your hips fast against him until your body gives out with it's own release. You slump into Miguel with a moan, your breath tickling his sweaty skin as you both calm down.
You can feel something warm and sticky beginning to slicken your thighs, but you simply sigh in content as you still hold Miguel's wrist to your mouth and give the hollow slow kitten licks. You giggle when you hear Miguel's breath hitch, his cock slowly chubbing up inside of you again.
You would never oppose a second round.
#cherry's requests🍒#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel ohara x you#atsv miguel#spiderman 2099 x you#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099#miguel 2099#miguel o'hara smut#miguel x reader#miguel spiderverse#miguel spiderman#miguel atsv#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o hara#miguel x you#miguel smut#miguel ohara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara smut#miguel ohara x reader smut#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel o hara x y/n#miguel o hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader#miguel o hara x you#spiderman 2099 spiderverse
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hi can u do headcannons (or a fic idm) of like people pleaser!reader and bf!matt who like stands up for her or tells people off on her behalf?
I really hope this makes even the slightest bit of sense
thank you so much, I love ur writing sm🤍🫶🏼
people pleaser!reader x matt headcannons!
(I have never done hcs ever, so if its bad thats mb, also I didnt know if you wanted nsfw but I js didnt bc I dont rllt know how to nsfw people pleaser x matt but if tou want me to retry it dont hesitate to ask!!)
warnings: angst, swearing
a/n: I dont rlly know how to write people pleasers and such so thats why its short, but I can try again if you’d like, I also love this idea, thank you anon!! <33
~
- the second someone pushes you around and or walks all over you hes quick to shut it down.
“alright listen man, it was one thing when you told her to fuck off, but telling her to shut the fuck up is another. I need you to leave.”
- when matt notices that someone is using you to their advantage or even notices you going out of your way to please them on several occasions hes getting it done and over with, quick.
“okay. enough y/n, come sit with me. you dont need to do everything for that asshole, k?”
^ he made sure to say it extra loud so the guy heard what matt had said about him.
- after matt had told someone off for being rude to you, you sat down next to him with your head hung low and your eyes filled with tears of guilt.
“baby, whats wrong?” he asked, his arm coming over to your back and rubbing your shoulder.
“that wasnt nice of you to yell at him.. look at him, I feel guilty now.” you spoke, your voice slightly shaky as you motioned to the man whom was anxiously biting his lip with his mouth closed shut, after matt had told him to keep it shut.
“it also wasnt nice of him to yell at you and call you names, was it?” he grumbled, just looking at the guy made him angrier, especially knowing you felt bad for him.
- “no, no, if you want me to. I can!” you spoke, a soft smile on your face as you talked to the girl infront of you, in which the girl had a smirk on her face, catching onto your patterns.. doing anything for the sake of pleasing her.
matt, on the other hand, stood behind you and glared at the girl, his jaw clenching with pure irritation. matt cleared his throat, trying to get the girls attention. and once her eyes met his he brought his hand up and flipped her off.
- in ways of showing you he wasnt happy with what you were doing he’d do subtle motions with his hands or look at you a certain way. you’ve learned that his jaw clenched tightly shut and his eyes glaring at you, then a quick look at the person you were currently giving your everything, is a way of him indicating he wanted you stop what you were doing.
- watching you adapt someone elses personality to try and seem more approachable and less weird truly angers him, despite knowing he cant do anything about it. he feels you should know that you’re perfect just the way you are and dont need to be accepted by everyone, they should like you for who you are.
- “oh..” you mumble, your head hung low as somone insults you and your interests. you cant say anything nor do anything, its not in your nature. you just have to sit there and take it, in fear of disappointing them. and since matt wasnt with you, there wasnt any way in stopping the next few minutes of being insulted.
later that day, when you come home your cheeks are tear-stained, you have mascara running down your cheeks and your breathing is uneven.. theres no way in hell you’re hiding this from matt. you take gentle steps as you walk to his room, slowly pushing his door open and taking small sniffles.
with hearing the door creak open matts lips turn into a grin, that is, until he lifts his head up to the sight of you, looking like you just bawled for hours on end. he quickly tosses his phone on his bed and walks over to you, engulfing you in his arms. already knowing what was going on he didnt ask anything, instead just comforted you.
- “ok! im fucking tired of your shit dude! you’ve been bossing, walking all over her, degrading and just overall being a total dickhead to her!” matt yelled, finally getting enough of this kid being rude to his girlfriend. he stood up from his chair and walked over to carlos. he stood tall and high infront of him. y/n moved behind matt and grabbed his hand, holding it and lightly squeezing, at an attempt to calm him down.
“matt, baby, its okay. im fine. dont yell at him.” y/n whispered, your voice quiet as you spoke. you avoided eye contact with carlos. “no, its not okay! hes being a total asshole to you, y/n. you dont deserve to be treated like that.” he turned around to face you. his voice no longer being loud as he spoke with sincerity towards you.
- you being treated rudely didnt always end up with him yelling at someone. when he wasnt fuming with anger, he would grab your hand and hold it, rubbing his thumb gently over your skin, then pull you into him, in a sense of protection and to tell you ‘enough’ without speaking.
- matt would act almost immediately when he even sees the beginning signs of you starting to act and do everything possible for the person you’re talking to. he would lean down in your ear and mumble quietly, “relax, my love.”
- again, he would make sure to be extra loud about shit talking someone when calling you over to him just to make sure that they know what matt thinks of them.
“cmon baby, that poor excuse of a friend doesnt deserve you.”
“hes being an asshole, my love. dont suck up to him.”
tags
@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @genshin-addict @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @dollyspsychoxo @sturnib-tch @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns
#sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#the sturniolo triplets#matthew bernard sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt x reader#matt girl#matt#sturniolo triplets imagine#sturniolo triplets fanfic#headcannons#hcs#matt sturniolo angst#angsty#angst ig#angst#light angst#mollys requests
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library affections - rafe cameron x fem!reader
pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
synopsis: there are two things that you love in this world; rafe and books
word count: 0.9k
warnings/tags: none, just fluff with sweet boyfriend!rafe
a/n: hi everyone! i don't think i can ever thank you all enough for your support in all of my works :< tbh i did not expect to gain so much interaction because this blog is still relatively new but here you all are and i appreciate each and every one of you <3 this fic is another fluff boyfriend!rafe fic (is it obvious that i like fluff so much lmao) and i've written this a while ago. i hope you'll like this one! if you have a request or prompt in mind, feel free to send me a message. happy reading!
masterlist
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
Being a regular visitor at the Camerons' estate has familiarized you with every corner of the house. Now, you have memorized every room and decoration, immediately spotting whatever is newly added. The Camerons didn't mind your presence, with your family being a close friend of theirs. Thus, it was no surprise that you ended up dating the one and only son of Ward Cameron.
With his father and stepmother often occupied and his sisters frequently out with friends, you and Rafe usually find yourselves with the house to yourselves, save for the occasional presence of the household staff. Yet, you've never minded.
Today follows a similar pattern. Ward left for a morning meeting, Wheezie went to school, and Sarah departed at noon to join John B's group. Surprisingly, even Rafe isn't home, having agreed to a golf outing with Topper and Kelce. Although he initially invited you to join, you declined, preferring to avoid the "boy talk" and the scorching sun. Thus, you find yourself waiting for Rafe in the living room, idly scrolling through your phone.
It's been around two in the afternoon when you got bored, sighing and deciding to stand up to walk around the house. Your feet already know where you're going when you face the familiar entrance to the Camerons' Library.
This room is your most loved spot in the whole estate, apart from Rafe's room. The vast shelves of bright book covers from different times always amaze you. If you could, you'd live in this room. Rafe has found you exploring this library countless times; even his sisters know it's the first place to check when you're not around the house.
Quickly scanning the shelves for a book, you settled upon a fantasy fiction novel, clutching the book as you made your way to a couch by the window. The first few chapters had you hooked immediately, eyes rapidly passing through every word as you moved chapter by chapter. The book was so good that it blanked your other senses, making you jump when you suddenly heard Rafe's voice.
"I knew you'd be here." He smirked, still in his golfing outfit, as he stood over you.
"Hi, Rafe." You smiled up at him, putting the book down on your lap. "How's golfing?"
Rafe plopped beside you, stretching his legs and putting an arm around your shoulder. "It was good. I got bored with Top's whining about his break-up with Sarah, so I left."
You chuckled when you saw his eyes roll, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. "They were together for a long time. You can't blame him."
"I guess." He shrugged before flashing you a flirty grin. "But I also want to spend time with my girl."
You snorted. "Yeah, okay."
"What? I do! I feel guilty about leaving you here alone." He defended.
"I don't mind, Rafe." You spoke.
"Hm. I bet you don't. But still."
You raised your brows, silently urging him to explain what he meant.
"I just mean that you were too distracted by that book, baby. I could've been an intruder, but you wouldn't even know. What is that about anyway?"
Your eyes lit up at his question; you've always loved speaking about the books you've read. And Rafe loved hearing you talk, even if he's mostly confused.
"I just started reading it, so I don't really know what it's about yet, but there's this girl, and she has electricity powers!" You started excitedly.
Rafe listened intently. He couldn't help but feel affection for you, marveling at how your eyes sparkled with passion for the story. Despite the chaotic world outside, at this moment, it was just the two of you, surrounded by the tranquility of the library.
As you continued to talk, Rafe's mind wandered, reflecting on how much you meant to him. You were the one person who could effortlessly penetrate his tough exterior, revealing the softer, more vulnerable side of him that he often kept hidden from the world. He felt at ease with you, free to be himself without fear of judgment or ridicule.
Lost in his thoughts, Rafe reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You paused mid-sentence, startled by the sudden touch, before leaning into his hand, relishing the warmth of his touch.
"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as you noticed the distant look in his eyes.
Rafe shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Nothing, I'm just... happy. Happy to be here with you."
A soft blush colored your cheeks as you met his gaze, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. At that moment, surrounded by the scent of old books and the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the window, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.
Leaning in, Rafe pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling away. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity.
"I love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with emotion as you returned his affectionate gaze.
With a contented sigh, Rafe settled back against the couch, pulling you closer until you were nestled against his side. Together, you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the simple pleasure of each other's company.
At that moment, surrounded by the familiar comforts of the library, you knew that no matter what the future held, as long as you had each other, everything would be okay.
#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n
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pretty girl, me94
in which mark has a little bit of an unwarranted jealousy problem you help him get over. (18+!!)
part of the sophomores best girl mini series! also set in last season, a couple days after mackie's fic (2.6k)
she’s long awaited, she’s hot, and she’s not proofread!! (typical). i hope she lived up to the excitement, i love you all, i need to pack and i need to go tf to sleep
jealousmarkjealousmarkjealousmarkjealousmarksdhsjdhsdjdh
to the public you were mark's. it made the most sense- he'd probably be around until his graduation, at which point the arrangement you had with the sophomore's would probably be over- but it would still prevent people begging the question of why you hadn't followed any of the other's to their respective draft cities despite the lack of any 'breakup'
he was touchier with you than the rest, as well. so being his 'girlfriend' had allowed for that to translate well when the group of you were out, for him to stay mindless about his fingers twirling the ends of your hair and his palm having a home on your thigh.
to top it all off- it was so embarrassingly evident that, although he liked sharing you in general, sometimes his mind went to places it shouldn't, and sometimes sharing was the last thing he wanted when it came to you.
so at a party where you and mackie had been stuck to one another like glue, partnering in beer pong, sharing a cup when nobody was paying attention, passing fleeting touches once everybody was too far gone to notice, mark could only sulk.
the biggest downside of being your so called boyfriend was that, no matter how badly he wanted to leave, it would look a little wrong for him to ditch his love at a frat house with absolutely no warning.
so he pulled you aside, your giggles stinging a little as you fell into his chest, looking up at him in the dim lighting like he was something of a god, whisking you to heaven, or, in this case, the entrance hallway of the most trashed building possibly ever
"it's time to go home now, baby," he murmured, wrapping you in his jacket, knowing you refused to bring any warm one, arguing it ruined your outfit.
you pouted, clutching the hem of his shirt and trying to pull him back to where some of the hockey team had stationed themselves
"but i'm having fun, marky," your genuine displeasure at his words had his jaw ticking, shaking his head at you.
"is that how this works now? you bossin' me around, baby?" he tilted his head and the look in his eyes made your mouth water. you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, shook your head and watched in real time as his face got more laxed, his body getting closer to yours.
he gave you a lazy grin, pressing a kiss to your lips and leading you out the door.
"we're gonna go home n' you're gonna be good, yeah?" he whispered, earning a nod as you tried to lean in for more kisses. he hummed, accepting the gesture but quickly pulling back to get you onto the sidewalk and towards the house.
you pawed at his arm, an attempt to get his attention back on you. he quickly eyed you before deciding to lean into his jealousy, see if you caught on and see what you'd do about it.
"look who's just gettin' all the attention from anyone who'll spare it tonight, huh?" you blushed, shaking your head timidly
you stepped in front of him so he’d stop walking, only for him to lift you into his arms and continue on without a thought
you giggled, tucking your face into his neck. "just want your attention, marky," you gave him a sultry look, watching as his tongue poked the bottom of his cheek in frustrated contemplation
"don't seem to want any of me when mackie's around," he stated, feeling your nails scratch at his bicep absentmindedly.
now that you thought about it, you were starting a little bit of a pattern. you'd be caught up in marks lap, giggling at everything he said and being the perfect, attentive girlfriend. then, mackie would come into a conversation and you'd be entirely distracted.
the first time, his food had come to the door and you never bothered to come back to mark after bringing it upstairs. tonight, he asked for you to partner him in games and you spent the whole night looking at mackie the way mark felt he deserved instead.
"then you're always runnin' around the house in luke's clothes, snuggling up with him on movie nights, sleeping in his bed," he continued, despite your lips on his jaw and neck, nipping at his skin
luke always preferred softer affection from you to cheer him up unless he was particularly angry- which meant him dragging you into his lap and hugging onto you, giving you his clothes so they'd smell like your perfume and having you fall asleep on his chest.
"best of all, ethan's been taking you out to lunch dates when you're meant to be my girl, not his," he walked through the front door just as you were about to explain to him that he seemed afraid to be affectionate with you other than to sleep with you or touch you, and that's why you kept getting whisked away.
the other boys had found a nice middle ground of relief and relationship, and you never denied any of them what they'd asked of you- mark had been stuck on relief, and always seemed to try and catch you when the rest had already whisked you away.
"m' not tryin' to pick favourites, i promise, marky. wanna have a thing with you, too. i don't know what you'd like, though," he grumbled, like your explanation hadn't quite met his standards for an excuse
"right now?" he dropped you on his bed, peeled his shirt off. "i'd like to fuck you,"
you giggled, pulling him down on top of you and tugging at his hair, kissing him and letting him tug your shorts off. his hands slid down your waist and hips to find your panties, only to feel that you'd gone without.
he groaned into your mouth and you smiled. one hand abandoning his hair to scratch down his back.
he moved off you, earning a needy whine and your arms reaching out at him. he smirked, sitting at the edge of his bed and nodding for you to come over to him while he ditched his pants and boxers
your response was to start kneeling in front of him, only for him to shake his head. "on my lap, pretty baby," he gripped your waist, pulling you onto his thigh, pressed tight to his chest.
"think m' gonna make you work for it," he smiled, looking in front of you at the full length mirror, watching as you stared at the two of you. you licked your lips slightly, watching the way he was holding you.
"what?" you murmured, finally looking into his eyes, a little distracted by his hands and the way you looked.
he chuckled, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple.
"said i'm gonna make you work for it, baby." his hands moved to your hips, teasing for a second before he lifted you forward and then dragged you back, bare cunt dragging on the muscle of his thigh and making your legs clench together
he gave you an expectant look through the mirror, watching with a smirk as you slowly rocked forward, a shaky whine spilling from your lips when his leg tensed under you
your hand planted on his other leg, nails digging into his skin as you rocked yourself as well as you could manage, a sticky mess building on his leg from your arousal
"the boys and i.. we talk about you, you know?.." he trailed, leaving kisses on your shoulder while you moaned at the though of them talking about the things they'd all done with you.
"and none of them can shut up about how well you respond.. when they tell you how good you are for them," your core pulsed, hips stuttering in your pace.
you weren't quite sure where he was going with his rant, which side of the coin he'd choose.
"is that true, pretty girl? you like it when they pretend you're this perfect angel, like you're not the prettiest little slut for us?" your eyes fluttered closed, and reopened to look into his own.
both. he was choosing both sides of the coin.
"mark, mark-" your grip on his leg tightened and he hummed, serving as a repetition to his question and not an acknowledgement of how close you were, nor your whimpers of his name.
"answer me," he murmured, bringing a hand in front of you and making light circles over your clit.
"m' a good girl. good for you, always. s' not- ah, not pretend" you breathed out, leaning your head back on his chest and looking up at him from there, rather than in the mirror
"please," you gasped, and you didn't even know yourself whether you were pleading with him to confirm you were good for him, or just to let you cum. though, one would probably result in the other.
"oh, look at you.. you do like it, don't you?" he teased, and you nodded obediently, peering up at him with all the hope you could muster.
though apparently your hope was for nothing, cause he moved his fingers away from your clit and grabbed your hips roughly, stopping your movement and effectively pressing pause on any stimulation you'd been feeling.
"no, no- was so close," you whispered, tears collecting at your waterline and both of your hands trying to pry marks off your body so you could go back to fucking yourself on him.
"shhh, pretty baby. m' gonna take my hands away and you're gonna sit nice and still, yeah? don't be a fucking brat, now," his voice was low and stern, your core throbbing against him and earning a chuckle
he hummed in satisfaction when you halted your attempts at forcing his hand, and you watched patiently as his forearm slayed over your stomach and he lifted your whole body with a one handed grip on your waist.
using his other hand, he aligned himself under you, pulling you down onto his cock and dropping you so that he immediately bottomed out.
you squealed, squeezing him so hard that he grunted and pried your thighs apart, slapping the inside of one hard enough for you to come back to yourself and try and relax your pelvis.
you gulped when you finally got used to the sudden intrusion, eyes fluttering shut and hips rocking gently.
he gripped your jaw, eyes jolting open as he forced you to look into the mirror in front of you.
"i told you to sit still" he barked, and you were smart enough to will away every aching desire to squirm.
since the last time you'd acknowledged yourself, you found that the lust drunk bliss on your face had increased tenfold and that you were now dripping down your thighs and onto marks, despite the two no longer rubbing against one another.
you also found that mark was staring, as well. drinking in every inch of exposed skin and massaging at your thighs when his eyes spent far too long focused between them, eyeing the way he was pressed into you and how stuffed you looked.
his arm made it's way back over your stomach, fingers gently grazing the imprint he was leaving on your stomach on their way across to your waist.
his voice was deep and crisp in your ear when he started to fuck up into you, one hand pulling you up, slamming you back down, and the other placing your thighs over his knees so they'd stay spread while he moved to paw at your tits, pinch your nipples.
"have you ever let any of us come inside?" and he sounded so calm that it hurt your head, confusion and fear melting together into a look that you gave him through the glass of his mirror.
".. s' against the rules," was all you said, shaky and wanting so desperately to grip onto him but wanting to be well behaved far more, so choosing to stay as he put you.
"that's not what i asked, pretty baby. i asked if you've let anyone," his fingers stopped messing with your nipple, instead his whole palm enveloped your left breast and the lines of his hand soaked in the scattered beat of your heart.
"no," you whispered, and it couldn't have been a more evident lie even if he hadn't felt the skip in the rhythm beating through your chest. he slammed up into you particularly roughly and you struggled not to scream, your eyes fluttering and tears dripping down your cheeks.
"no?" he asked again, his condescending tone ringing in your ears. if only you'd known he knew before his question even fell from his lips, you would've apologized rather than lying.
"so.. what was it, that you were begging mack to do the other night? promisin' him you wouldn't tell, saying you'd been so good," he tilted his head, the hand over your heart sneaking up around your throat, keeping your head straight so you'd look him in the eye.
"nothin'.. nothing, mark, i swear. just know he likes me talking, beggin'.. wanted to be good t' him," you cried, and he let out a dry chuckle.
"good girls don't lie.. n' i thought that's all you wanted, was for me to validate that little fantasy in your head where you're obedient, and sweet, and the best girl, and then.. you lie to me? m' starting to think the boys are liars, too. tellin' me you're this angel baby.." he trailed off, tutting breathily.
"if you're a good girl, you'll make it up to me, right, pretty baby?" he asked, coming up with his very own resolution for the problem he'd stuck you in.
"i'll- m' gonna make it up to you, swear it," your lead lolled back onto his shoulder from how dazed you were and he quickly perched your head right back up.
"gonna let me come inside? need to- i need it. need to know what it feels like to fill you up, baby," he squeezed your throat a little, your walls clenching around him and your eyes flickering between open and closed. you'd never been so loud, so twitchy for him and he was loving every last second.
you nodded, almost frantically, staring at where you and mark connected in the mirror while he hummed in satisfaction and gave you one last, rough thrust, leaking into you and dropping his hand from your neck, squeezing every inch of skin he could reach and moaning gently in your ear.
"there's a good girl. prettiest fucking whore f' me," he murmured, smiling blissfully when your legs made their way over his knees, clamping together while your walls pulsated around him.
you squeezed your eyes shut hard and clawed at his arm, shaking against his chest and moans spilling violently from red, swollen lips.
you heaved in his arms, chest rising and falling prominently while he used light circles on your clit to bring you down from an intense orgasm.
his hands slid to your hips, ready to pull you off him and you whined in retaliation, turning to nestle your face into his chest.
he smirked, keeping you taught to himself while he laid back, keeping you in top of him and petting your hair out of your face.
"mh. was always so annoying you never wanted cuddles, so warm, big," you babbled, clinging on tighter.
"always wanted cuddles, pretty baby. didn't know how to ask for 'em."
"kay, well. you're an idiot," he raised an eyebrow, adjusting his hips and earning an oversensitive whine
"watch yourself"
#e’s fics#e goes a little feral#best girl mini series !#mark estapa#mark estapa x reader#mark estapa smut#hockey imagine#nhl imagine#fINALLY MAN#sry im slow thank you for waiting on me
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So this is a thought I had after the unmedicated post, but what if ya had chronic pain? Like my good days are constant emergency levels for someone else, and on the bad days I just don't function or function by acting really bitchy. Like, imagine the sweet or chill prefect suddenly being a complete asshole then someone (probably Rook) reveals it's because their meds completely left their system.
Yes!! This kinda works with the post that inspired the unmedicated fic, which you can check out here.
I raise you this though: imagine the yandere bois tm finding out the sweet/kind/chill/patient ramshackle suffers so much all the time.
I can imagine Floyd not even fully squeezing you and you yelp out in pain just from that. You play it off as best as you can, but Jade's curiosity is piqued.
You probably tell your freshman besties first, but everyone will quickly learn from there. I mean, Sebek will absolutely tell Malleus and Epel will end up telling Vil.
The information gets to Jade and Floyd, who take it to Azul.
Deuce ends up spilling it to Riddle one time while trying to defend you. Ace will then blab to you about how Deuce messed up.
Its a whole mess
But now everyone knows about your chronic pain, and all of a sudden everyone's treating you like you're glass.
Even the ones you wouldn't imagine!! Like you'd think Leona would be Mr. Tough Love "Go walk it off." But no. He's still an asshole about the whole thing, but he's a condescending asshole, always telling you you can't do shit by yourself so let him handle it. Or at least let Ruggie handle it. He doesn't understand why you try so fucking hard, you have a great excuse to just relax. So he forces you to.
Everyone is kind of like this, with varying degrees of affection and subtleties.
Riddle is also very rood about it, yelling at you to just stand still.
Azul is more subtle, always creating illusions of choice, making you think you have options, when you don't. Tricking you into taking easier paths while you think you're roughing it.
Jamil basically treats you like he does Kailm. Which, if you're like me, makes you feel bad. But even just the fact you feel bad reminds him why he prefers you over Kalim 1009000%. He wishes you'd stop fussing and let him take care of you.
Vil is also fairly patronizing while he dotes on you. He treats you like a doll, dressing you up and styling you, because with your fragile little bones this is kinda the best thing for you. And he also really doesn't understand why you won't just sit down and let him love you.
If you're sensing a pattern, you are correct. No one fucking understands why you won't just fucking relax and let everyone take care of everything for you.
Idia sees your chronic pain as the PERFECT excuse to never have to go somewhere in person and yet??? You keep going out in person??? Bro, just stay with him, then you BOTH have an excuse to just fucking chill in his room while a floating iPad handles all your school problems.
Finally, Malleus. Awwww, you're so cute, trying so hard. But also he feels so hurt everytime you try to do something without him. To him, your chronic pain is the invitation for him. It's your very body crying out to him for comfort. And Malleus never turns down an invitation.
#yandere#yandere rambles#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#twst#mha#yandere asks#twst headcanons#yandere twst asks#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere leona kingscholar#yandere azul ashengrotto#yandere jamil viper#yandere vil schoenheit#yandere idia shroud#yandere malleus draconia#Stuck in twst without meds
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I've been thinking about how I could contribute to the ACD/Granada Sherlock Holmes fandom for a while, seeing as I'm neither an artist, a writer, or anything actually useful lol. But then I realized something I myself always treasure are curated fic recs, which I could actually do! I've read probably like 25% of all the h/w ACD and Granada fics on ao3, so I compiled a short list for anyone who is just starting out with the fandom. Without further ado, may I present
Eden’s Top Picks for Beginning ACD/Granada Fics:
(edit: i made a second list here!!)
The Adventure of the Doctor's Heart by mistyzeo
12k | Rated E
Summary: Holmes has observed much of Watson's habits and tastes over time, which is why it surprises him when his friend objects strangely to a folk song sung at the conclusion of a case. Disturbed by the Doctor's unexpected display of emotion, Holmes becomes determined to lift his spirits by any means necessary, with mixed results.
Notes: obviously if you're going to read canonverse h/w, you are going to read mistyzeo. this one is just so good and angsty and features music (!!). it's got some steaminess but it also has wooing. basically it has everything you ever need. this is my odyssey, my iliad, my hamlet, etc.
Cameo by what_alchemy
8k | Rated M | For Archive Users Only
Summary: Holmes and Watson become embroiled in a case Scotland Yard refuses to acknowledge. A soulmate AU.
Notes: i honestly skipped over this fic for a while, since i'm not the biggest fan of soulmate aus. do not make the same mistake i did, because this shit HITS. this fic has hit after hit: soulmate-mark based case for our main duo, angst, hiatus feels, MORE ANGST, and ofc a happy ending. ugh. read this fic if you enjoy being happy.
A Tide That Does Not Turn by tweedisgood
3k | Rated T
Summary: Holmes is a very bad patient with a devoted doctor who adores him. Watson wishes it was safe to speak up, but his friend is a tide that does not turn.
Notes: do NOT read this if you don't like angst... ok now i'm sensing a pattern. anyways this is the first hurt/no comfort fic i read for this tag and i literally have cried more than enough tears over it. poor, poor watson :( iconic author though, read everything they write!
The Adventure of the Glad Outlaw by radondoran
7k | Rated T
Summary: While Sherlock Holmes solves the mystery of a student's disappearance, Dr. Watson is more puzzled by the changing dynamic between his flatmate and himself.
Notes: cute pastiche! a nice little mystery and a nice little get-together. ahhhhhh.... this fic is like cotton candy to me, so sweet and fluffy. defo recommend
Hands by MinorObsessions (draculard)
1.4k | Rated T
Summary: Naturally, there are some things Watson thinks about Holmes that don't make it into the books.
Notes: i'm also in the star trek fandom, so if you know anything about that then you know that hands are kind of A Thing in both circles and ergo i now Have A Thing about hands. so this is a nice little ode to holmes' hands, featuring some doctoring by watson AND a nice reverse appraisal at the end. it's so sweet :)
Conductor of Light by ColebaltBlue
1.4k | Rated T
Summary: A Victorian stiff upper lip won't prevent you from falling in love, but it might prevent you from realizing it.
Notes: they finally get their shit together! honestly i would recommend this fic to anyone just starting out with h/w fics in any medium. the characterization and dialogue is A1, and their argument is really realistic to me, idk. also features the iconic HOUN quote for its title so props to that!
A (Mis)fortunate Man by sans_patronymic
1.5k | Rated T
Summary: December, 1880. Watson writes a note which may be his last. December, 1899. Watson writes back.
Notes: READ THE TAGS BEFORE READING. this was a gut-wrenching read but god i cried at the end for watson. don't worry, this one has a happy ending. ugh now i wish there was a second chapter where watson lets holmes read the letters. to sum up: oof, my heart
The Second Smartest Man in London by FairSinner
73k | Rated E
Summary: Dr John Watson returns from Afghanistan to Victorian London, wounded, traumatised and alone. When he meets Sherlock Holmes, his life begins to seem worth living again. But Holmes is a man who despises sentiment and Watson cannot seem to expunge it from his heart.
Notes: congrats, you've made it to the end!! so now i must confess that it's been a loooong time since i've read this fic, but the private note i left on my bookmark was just "holy shit", so i'm sure it's a banger. i'm also sure it has angst because i love angst and i love bookmarking angst so i can read it again and again and suffer infinitely. enjoy :)
anyways, now that i've put these all here i realized how much i enjoy angst and hurt/no comfort fics. if any of you guys have a favorite fic you want to link or want to plug your own writing, feel free to!
#i hope this is coherent#or at least helpful to someone lol#sherlock holmes#acd holmes#granada holmes#granada johnlock#acd johnlock#fic rec#acd johnlock fic rec#granada johnlock fic rec
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Tips on character voices when writing fic
This is written in mind for people writing fic in MCYT/QSMP/DSMP/Life series/etc kind of fandoms. But if anyone finds it useful for anything else, well then, hell yeah.
Character voice is big in all, uh, fiction, and mimicking it in any fanwork is big. But I think it’s especially big in these fandoms where the voices are so distinct – it’s usually how a Real Person Somewhere (the streamer) talks, versus something very scripted that you’d see in a TV show or novel. And it can be a big difference in your character sounding generic versus really feeling true to the original.
Listen to a bunch of your subject talking. If you want to write a character well, watch vods from their point of view, or episodes where they show up a bunch. Take note of what they say and how.
2. If you don’t know how to start doing that: try literally writing down what they say. Transcribe an actual exchange in fic-format. You probably won’t want to publish a literal exchange from canon, but it will give you a sense of how to physically write what they say.
3. If you do this (or just pay attention to how they talk), you will get a lot of: Stumbling, pauses, repeating words, filler words, weird sentence constructions, fragments, etc. I love em! Here’s something that comes through in improv much more than in novels or movies: Most people, even very charismatic people, are not very eloquent when they speak. Writing out conversations or sentences will give you a sense of the unique and delightful way in which your subject is not eloquent.
vvvvv way more under cut vvvvv
(People use a LOT of filler/etc when they speak. It’s reasonable to cut back on this if it’s interfering with a nice-looking or readable result. I believe this is the eternal struggle of people who write transcripts – you want the transcript to be accurate, but there are also a lot of things you can obviously simplify and not lose the meaning. So you’ll end up falling somewhere on this spectrum either way. But I do think a lot of mediocre/generic fic dialogue is very stylized – it doesn’t sound like your guy because your guy literally wouldn’t say that. They would say it worse and more confusingly.)
(I’m serious, if you’ve never sat down with a short non-completely-scripted clip or real conversation or whatever and just written out exactly what was said, do it. It will make you better at writing.)
4. Wonda-cat made a really incredible list [link] of characterizing speech patterns for the Dream SMP members. But you can also do your own reconnaissance and come up with your own patterns, common phrases, etc.
5. You do not have to get EVERYTHING right. You’re not going to, like, get so deep into the speaker’s brain that you can produce “exactly what they would have said if they were somehow in your fic.” That is impossible. You’re just trying to evoke a character, and if you get a few turns of phrase to ring true, you’re doing great.
6. A lot of these people are popular because they are hilarious. Include jokes. Yes, even if your thing is angsty or serious. A lot of the most serious lore I can think of from, e.g., the Dream SMP or 3rd Life or the QSMP - the really story-defining, life-and-death moments - were absolutely hysterical. If you’re writing characters who are usually funny, then add some humor. It can heighten angst via contrast and a sense of realism.
Ask yourself what a funny streamer would make jokes about if they were possessing a character in this situation.
7. Some people have the mystical ability to “hear” character voices in their head, and read things in their voice. If you can, do this with all of your dialogue during the editing process. This won’t always get you there, but sometimes it can catch things that sound wrong by invoking "that's really hard to imagine them saying". If you don’t have this power, try recruiting a friend who does.
8. So there’s dialogue and then there’s narration that’s still from a character’s point of view. I’ve mostly given you tips about dialogue, but a lot of this is also true for narration. IMO, narration is less about phrasing things the way the subject would, and more about recreating the way they think. I don’t have concrete rules on how to do this, but here is my wisdom:
You can get eloquent again - narration is more of an abstract and artistic process than dialogue.
Spend time with your subject’s source material.
Pay attention to what they notice and care about. How do you think they think?
Don’t be afraid to get weird with it.
That last one also applies to all art ever.
9. MCYT tends to give you a great boon you don’t see in other media: what the speaker says to their chat/audience when nobody else is listening. This can be incredibly characterizing even if you’re writing a story where people don’t have chats. It’s your person talking about their thought processes and feelings! Mine that shit.
10. Some questions that might help guide both characterizing narration and dialogue (that you’d get from dialogue):
How open are they about their feelings?
How often do they lie? What do they lie about?
What kind of metaphors do they use, if any?
How quickly does their mood change?
How can you tell when they’re in different moods?
What kind of things do they pay attention to?
How formal is their speech?
11. Finally, this is a little odd, but I find it’s much, much easier to write a character that sounds good if I, the author, like them and am rooting for them at least a little bit. If a character needs to be there who you don’t love, try to love them. Or at least get a sense of what other people love about them. It just makes everything else easier. I swear to god.
Happy writing out there!
#mcyt fic#fanfiction#writing advice#writing tips#fanfiction tips#qsmp fic#dsmp fic#works for whatever too I'm just not gonna try to tag everything#fanfiction advice
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Holy Grail 1
Authors note: the poll fic is coming along with a few other ideas I’ve been churning out. In the meantime here is a SFW stitching together of last week’s fics with some extra story at the end
“Picture this: it's the final round of Core-A’s Tatsunoko VS Capcom blast from the past tournament and my friend Bonsai is facing off against a new challenger whose gamer tag is Mothra. (she also happens to be his girlfriend Olivia Hye, but more on that later) The set is tied between Bonsai and her. She's been wrecking His team of Frank West and Tekkaman so to throw her for a curveball He goes Polymer and Morrigan. Mothra is confused “No one plays Polymer,” she says perplexed at Bonsai's choice, but Bonsai smiles at his opponent, and says confidently "I do," being a strong competitive player Bonsai easily beats Mothra with his unique team.”
Our friends clap happily as I recount the tournament story for those who weren't present; Jacob, Haseul, Arin, Nagyung, and Tobi. Olivia Hye (Mothra) was less than happy with my recounting of events.
“Yeah, I don't know why you're so cocky; you came in third,” Olivia rolled her eyes, her skepticism evident.
I narrowed my eyes at her before asserting, “Yeah because I only lost to Bonsai. I beat everyone else I played against, and I would have beaten you,” I said, laughing, knowing that despite my boisterous and arrogant antics, I often backed it up with skill.
Bonsai knew I put in more hours into the game than he did. I was constantly in the training lab, mastering characters, but he still bested me because he was the better player. Bonsai also knew If I hadn't pushed him to learn more characters, including Polymer and Morrigan. Plus my strategic input, proved invaluable against high-tier players due to their unpredictability. he would have not won today's tournament
Olivia remained unconvinced. “Oh, come on, Bonsai beat you in three rounds with one flawless win,” she retorted.
Sensing an opportunity to dismantle her argument, I was ready to point out flaws in her playstyle and offer ways to improve, but Bonsai, defending his girlfriend from my unwanted critiques, intervened, “Sorry, Liv, but Daizo would level you. I only beat him because I know how he approaches the game and his patterns.”
Hyeju laughed, “Please, and like I couldn't! We all play together every Thursday, and he always comes in under us.” Bonsai and I exchanged knowing glances, and I decided to drive the point home.
Raising an eyebrow, I struck the killing blow, “Um, Olivia, what two characters are my mains in TVC?”
Olivia shrugged, “Um, Karas and Chun Li?”
I looked at Bonsai as he broke the news to his girlfriend, sighing as he explained, “Hye, he hates playing Chun Li and Karas. He only does it to you because I ask him to.”
Olivia was flabbergasted, “Why?” she asked.
Bonsai knew he had to broach this carefully. “Well, did you see his last match?”
Olivia shook her head. “No, all I heard from that was screaming while I got us lunch.”
Bonsai sighed, elaborating, “Babe, he zero to deathed his opponent after reading their first assist correctly, and he only started playing Joe the Condor today.”
Olivia looked at him, then at me, confused, as did the rest of the group.
“You just learned Joe today?” Arin inquired, struck with bewilderment.
I nodded, prompting Jacob to ask a very legitimate question, “Wait, why risk that at a paid tournament? That seems out of your win-at-any-cost mentality.”
I shrugged before answering, “Because as soon as I was in the same bracket side as Bon, I was getting third place no matter what, so why not see how far I could push my limits?”
Olivia looked at me with disgust, “How arrogant of you to think you can just waltz in and win a tournament on whim picks.”
I laughed and responded, “Liv, we had to give you an advanced tech crash course when you told us you wanted to participate on a whim, despite only playing occasionally with us. I don't want to hear about me doing anything competition-wise on a whim. I am always competition-ready.” This made Olivia go quiet.
Arin, bless her heart, sensed the tension and grabbed my hand. Her touch, as always, was a soothing wave cooling off the plasmidic heat that I felt burn in the Vacuous Core where normal emotional reactions should be.
It worked until Olivia's hurt ego resurfaced, and she said,
“Okay, then Daizo, if you're so great, how about a friendly exhibition match?” I heard Arin sigh, and I knew that either I or Olivia was going to receive a lecture later. But honestly, she already blooded the water by doubting me and further pushed me with an official challenge. So when we got to Bon and Liv's place, I was nearly delirious with anticipation.
I beat Liv 25-1. We could have stopped at 13-0, but the part of me that my friends don't like demanded I beat her more. Thankfully, before I could make Liv cry, Arin and Bonsai stopped me.
“Okay, Disaster, that's enough. You have proved your supremacy, and I don't think Hye can take anymore,” Bonsai's sad tone reached me, and I came out of that dark place.
Arin and I went back to our shared apartment, leaving Bonsai to comfort the almost in-tears and shocked Olivia on their shared couch. He cuddled next to his girlfriend, who was a little grumpy that I beat her...repeatedly
“I can't believe Daizo’s so mean,” she said with an adorable pout. You smiled and nestled closer.
“Come on, babe, you went after him and triggered one of his "episodes". Be glad we stopped it before you went 1-29,” Bonsai said.
Olivia was just revving up, though, “It's just…(He shut her up with an impassioned kiss) uh, babe, no fair.” Bonsai spent the rest of the night consoling his girlfriend's hurt feelings.
A couple of days after what I guess you could call my "bullying" of Hyeju, our little friend group met up again, as we had planned. Arin and I ended up being late due to circumstances beyond our control—a rainstorm that felt almost biblical in its intensity. Arin laughed as we finally entered her car.
"You know, this reminds me of the time we fell for each other," Arin reminisced.
"Yeah, it was a cloudy morning like this," I responded.
"Cloudy? It was pouring," Arin corrected.
I raised an eyebrow. "Huh, oh, I guess that day has such a weird recollection in my head."
"Yeah, me too, but I distinctly remember the rain and seeing how soaked Jacob and you were," Arin replied. "To think we were at each other's throats, and in a split second, we were making out on the floor."
"Yeah, love is weird," I said.
Jacob was grinning ear to ear as we walked to his car. "We're going to this party—there will be girls, grub, and, best of all, games," he said excitedly. I nodded as I got in the car with him. The synthetic smell of maple and brown sugar bombarded me uncomfortably.
"Dude, do you have to have the most obnoxious air freshener?" I teased.
Jacob laughed before saying, "Oh, so you insult my taste, huh? Well, what if I were to tell you that shirt is terrible?" He teased back.
I smiled and responded, "Nope, you can't hurt me. I'm too excited—I've been watching them for so long, so finally going to see Core-A in person seems sick."
"Me too," he said as he started his car.
When he went to shift gears he gave a weird look and then said something odd, "Oh, one thing—don't be mad," he said.
I raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"
"Arin is going to be there," Jacob responded, and I died a little inside.
I groaned. "Is it too late for me not to go?"
"Dude, she's a 5'5'' girl. You'll be fine, Mr. Legendary Spell Fencer," Jacob reassured me. I scratched my hair nervously, thinking about possible outs.
"I don't know, the last time we met, we yelled at each other for two hours," I said.
"I remember—you guys sounded like an old married couple... Maybe that's it. Maybe you two like each other, but your minds misattribute the attraction with spite. Maybe the two of you just need to kiss, and the wires will be crossed correctly," Jacob suggested as he drove off, sealing my fate.
I rolled my eyes and confidently explained, "There is no way."
Jacob hesitated as if remembering something. "Well, remember how the first time you guys fought, afterward you were all hot and bothered thinking about her for two weeks? It was also weird because you would say all these nice things about her like 'How could someone so compassionate and smart be so damn pig-headed and boorish? I hate that vexing bitch.' You know, weirdly flirty stuff," Jacob said teasingly. I looked at him with an "Are you serious?" look. He laughed, of course.
"Hey, it's just a theory," he finished.
After that, for the most part, we rode in silence until we reached Core-A's studio and the location of the party. We got out of Jacob's baby blue VW Beetle, which he lovingly referred to as the "Love Bug" (which I believe is copyrighted, but I could be wrong). We walked into the purple venue, though the atmosphere breathed competition without the sweaty smell. The air was chilled to a comfortable level as we filed in along with a few others.
"Ah, Jac, glad you could make it," a tall Korean man said as he approached us. He hugged Jacob, who smiled, and then the man sized me up.
"You must be Daizohan?" the Korean man asked.
I nodded affirmatively. "I am."
He extended his hand and introduced himself, "Nice to meet you. My name is Gerald Lee."
I couldn't help but grin widely. "I know who you are. I'm a huge fan. I've watched all your channel's videos and loved what you have done, not only for the fighting game community but for competitive communities everywhere," I raved.
Gerald Lee smiled, then said, "Please, then enjoy yourself, make friends, eat, and have fun. I only ask that you be respectful. Some pretty public figures are roaming about who would like their privacy," I nodded in agreement.
"Sure thing, sir," I replied, to which he chuckled before walking away.
Jacob nudged me, pointing out, "Dude, I've never seen you smile that big."
I squinted at him, annoyed. "Jacob, that's one of my heroes."
Jacob laughed at my expense, "I can tell. Now, don't get too excited, but I think they have your favorite over there." I turned to see the familiar loading screen and couldn't contain my excitement. I lifted my hand in anticipation and walked over to the TV. It was exactly what I had hoped for: Tatsunoko VS Capcom. I sat down, feeling nostalgic as I hadn't played the game since childhood. Despite its age and my lack of recent practice, I was instantly transported back to the date of its release, a ten-year-old rediscovering his first fighting game and embarking on a decades-long love affair. I was engrossed in the game when I heard a voice asking,
"Hey, can I play with you?"
"Uh, yeah, sure. Let me just quit this arcade match," I said as I exited my current run-through of the mode.
"I'm surprised you've been so invested; you haven't moved once since sitting here," the voice remarked.
"Well, this is my second favorite game of all time," I explained.
I noticed the voice sitting next to me, intrigued. "Oh, what's the first?"
"Kingdom Hearts II," I replied.
"Oh, I hear a lot about how complicated those games are," the voice said.
I smiled, replying, "Well, they're usually less complicated than life, to be honest." The voice laughed, causing me to smile. It was feminine and pleasant, making me feel like I was at a calming beach.
"This is my first time playing this one, so I don't know how to play. Can you teach me?" the voice asked. I nodded and turned to face her, handing her the controller. Our hands touched, and then our eyes locked, sending my emotions into warp drive.
"Arin?"
"Daizo?"
Arin and I looked at each other with equally confused expressions before she abruptly stood up and said, "Bathroom. Now." I followed her, hoping to avoid a scene. Thankfully, no one saw us enter the furthest one from the party.
Arin and I silently glared at each other until she spoke first, "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Um, I was invited by Jacob," I replied.
I watched as Arin rolled her eyes, “Yeah, of course he'd invite you. God, I hate you cameramen sometimes.”
Unaware of the growing feelings within, I gave her the response she wanted, “Damn it, why are you always so mean? Like, what did I do to you?”
Arin rolled her eyes and teased, “You? Please. I'm sorry, but why would I ever be friends with such an attention whore? Did mommy and daddy never give you enough as a child?”
Seeing where this conversation was going, I decided to do something more interesting. I decided to play into her analysis.
“Actually, yes. My parents were consumed with work much of my childhood and had a rigid structure that maintained my physical safety but preyed upon my social and emotional safety as a special needs child, leading to severely stunted emotional and social growth but excellent physical and cognitive growth. This manifested as childhood chasing and severe attention-seeking behaviors. Thankfully, I'm risk-averse enough to have that rein me in from being an absolute menace. Also, if I am attention-seeking, so are you, as often you join me happily in that, as seen by the show we put on for Nagyung’s birthday where we argued for three hours.”
Arin stood there stunned. I watched as she tried to form a response until I got bored and walked away. She grabbed me and said, “Wait, Daizohan (she was using my full name, so I knew she was serious). I am sorry, I didn't know.”
I gave her a kind smile and replied, “It's all good. I also didn't realize until just now when you were talking about it.”
Arin smiled, and that same feeling of a wave washing over me crept up. “Well, now that you know, I expect better from you,” I nodded, and we walked back to Tatsunoko vs. Capcom. While walking, I noticed how pretty Arin was. Like, she was distractingly pretty.
As we walked back, that distraction caused me to walk into a metal pole. Obviously, I fell, but Arin was quick to pick me up and begin scolding me about “staying aware.”
As Arin spoke and droned on and on, my body sent a shiver down my spine before sending a weird impulse to my brain.
“Arin’s stern scolding is kinda of hot; she makes a great and nurturing mother. I should make her a mother,” my brain told me, and I jolted. Arin noticed, and for a moment, the animosity in her eyes dissipated, and I saw something I wasn't expecting: genuine concern.
Arin’s features softened from a disgusted grimace to concerned caution as she said, “Are you okay? You just jumped!” I nodded, standing there dumbfounded. “Good,” she continued, “Hey, don't scare me like that, Daizo.”
In an instant, all that animosity turned into this overwhelming desire to kiss her. Before I knew it, all I could think about besides how pretty her eyes were with her cute glasses was how to go about kissing her. So, I did. At first, it was awkward as Arin was combating similar competing feelings of infatuation and infuriation. After a few seconds though, she joined me in choosing to be infatuated. We broke the kiss and Arin smiled at me and said, “What?”
“Oh nothing just remembering our first time together Arin smiles as we get in her car and drive to Nagyung and Jacob’s place.
While Arin and I were on our way to the meetup, she asked me what I thought Jacob would like for his upcoming birthday.
"Oh, don't worry about that. I already got his drinks, food, and presents handled," I reassured her.
"Good, I know when you're on top of things, you overachieve. I just need to remind you," Arin said, relieved.
"Oh, you never have to remind me of friends. I always show up for them when I can," I replied, which made Arin laugh.
“Hey babe, can I ask you something?” Jacob walked into the living room.
“Sure, what is it, Naggy?”
"Why did you invite Arin and Daizo? They're so gross," Nagyung whined.
Jacob chuckled before replying, "Daizo and Arin are my friends, and while they may be 'gross,' they are good company."
Nagyung sighed, annoyed. "But Jakey, they are obsessed with... that, what did you call it?"
Jacob raised an eyebrow. "The Holy Grail or fighting games?"
"The Holy Grail," Nagyung confirmed.
"Oh, well, yeah. Everyone needs friends who chase the Holy Grail. They show you where you're lacking," Jacob replied.
"What?" Nagyung responded, confused.
"Chasing the Holy Grail means chasing the impossible. Both Arin and Daizo have impossibly large goals, which is probably why they work so well together. But I digress. They are chasing impossible goals for different reasons. For Daizo, it's to see how far he can take himself in this world, and for Arin, it's to prove herself," Jacob explained. Nagyung nodded and then replied,
"But why can't they be satisfied with what they have? They're successful and have a great love life and careers. What more could they want?"
Jacob shrugged as he replied.
About 65 minutes later the couple finishing up cooking lunch.
"Wow, you guys finally made it?" Nagyung said smiling. I gave a thumbs up and Bonsai explained how traffic was terrible for some weird reason.
Arin perked up, "It's mostly because of the rain and the impromptu K-pop festival going on in Hongdae."
"Wait really? (Bonsai turns to Haseul) Why wasn't the best group ARTMS invited," Bonsai said
exaggeratedly. Haseul blushed and smiled as Arin and I both suppressed the urge to say "What are you talking about the best is obviously Oh My Girl,"
Bonsai noted our restraint and smiled, "You know it shows that there are still tickets and they're pretty cheap,"
Arin and I looked at each other before we both said "So it's settled We are all going," The group nodded excitedly as we got up and began prepping for the Concert. We all ordered Tickets and then walked to the venue. On the way, Arin grabbed my hand, "What's up?"
"Nothing just showing everyone who you belong to," She said with a possessive smile,
"Are you jealous?"
"No, I am not the Jealous type but what's mine is mine end of story," Arin said smiling. I smiled back before kissing her forehead.
"Blegh. You guys are so gross," Hyeju says as she notices we haven't moved for a bit. Arin rolls her eyes before grabbing my hand and having us catch up to the others.
We arrived at the festival and its insanely lively fantastic atmosphere despite the gloomy weather. Plenty of Alcohol for everyone except Arin, plus me, and several acts we were more than excited to see. We decided to start with H1-Key as they were the next act. (We probably should have gotten food in hindsight but it's not that big a deal.) As H1-Key performed many of their hits Arin and I danced to music, as did our friends (At one point Nagyung was twerking on Jacob which was always hilarious). when the weather dropped to a colder temperature we moved less to conserve heat but still sang along. Arin nestled herself in my jacket to stay warm due to our size difference. After that act, We decided to get food and stopped by the nearby Ramyeon place. We all congregated around a pretty big table which allowed us to stay near our partners but also be in decent positions to talk to everyone.
Arin put her hand in mine as we watched our friends. "So Daizo how much longer are you here for?" Haseul asked.
I looked to Tobi for confirmation he held up the number three letting me know I had three weeks left
"Oh three weeks left," I answered. Subtly I noticed Arin tightening her grip on me. I turn to her and clarify, "I will be back though,"
"Oh, when," Nagyung asked.
"Uh probably in the second half of the year, around September," I replied.
Arin‘s grip softened, and I looked at her before saying, “Don't worry I'll be back,”
After we finished we went back to the festival and enjoyed the rest of the acts.
We got back from the impromptu festival around midnight I want to say, and on the way back to Jacob's place we were stopped by a lady, She stood at the precipe of a crosswalk. She is holding a massive sword and she says,
"If one of you can land a hit on me; I will give you a massive prize." My friends all look at each other and then at me to stop me but I'm already walking to the lady.
“So I just gotta land one hit?” I ask
“Yes,” the lady responds
“Any other rules? Stipulations?” I add
“Nope give it all you got,” the lady says with a pleased smile.
“Okay! Let's do it.” I reply. Arin grabs my hand and says
“Go get em,” I smile and reply
“God I love you,” Arin beams and I turn to the lady. I summon my spell sword and get in a combat-ready stance. The lady smiles before taking out a needle and syringe. She injects herself and I watch as her eyes begin to glow. I stand guard as she also gets ready. I blink and in an instant, she is at my throat. I block her blade and disarm her by throwing both our blades away.
Taking advantage of her staggered and uneven stance I grapple her and throw her to the ground. As she lands I get one quick strike to her arm. She smiles,
“A thief with honor.” the lady says as I help her up. I notice her skin is a magenta color and she only has one eye. She smiles at me before saying, “Congratulations,” and everything goes dark.
When I wake up I am on a floor mat with Arin sitting above me. I sit up and Arin Jolts.
"Where am I," I ask.
"Babe relax," Arin says hearing my heart race
"Okay," I say as she has me slow my breathing.
"There has been a bad situation,"
"What is it?" I ask
"Look," Arin says sadly
I look at what she has gestured at and see my home planet shattered and exploded. I breathe in and out slowly processing what I am seeing, I turn to Arin and she grabs me tightly before saying, "It will be okay Daizo."
I had only one question on my mind, "who did this?"
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Wrath.
Jeff the Killer HCs:
General HCs:
Full Name: Jeffrey Alexander Woods (Only responds to Jeff though. Best case scenario if you call him his full name is he’ll ignore you, worst case scenario is him flipping his shit on you)
Age: 22-25 (Based on where in the story a character study/fic takes place)
Birthday: September 22 (Older than Liu by 2 years)
Wasian— Father is Chinese, mother is a born n’ raised Texan
Biromantic, Demisexual
Has autism, C-PTSD, BPD (contributor to his auditory hallucinations), NPD, ASPD, and BDD
Right Handed
6’1 (185~ cm)
Covered in burn scars, most noticeably on his chest, forearms, and back
He uses white facepaint, it makes his face’s silhouette look “cleaner” in his eyes
His cuts have healed up for the most part, although he’ll have moments where he relapses and cuts at them again. The ends will also sometimes tear if he does something like laugh too hard.
Very touchy with other people, but he despises being touched first. He prefers to initiate physical contact- both because of the control aspect of it and because of his general distrust of others.
His sense of humor waxes and wanes from extreme condescension to the most morbid sentences you’ve ever heard. Half of the time it doesn’t even sound like a joke.
Reckless driver, cursed with terrible road rage
Smokes cigarettes, his brand of choice is Marlboro
Drinks vodka straight as if it were water
I feel like his favorite band would be Tool or Slipknot. His music taste is just metal and dad rock.
Was brought up in a Catholic school for most of his life, although he obviously doesn’t keep up with the practice anymore. This is a big catalyst for why he develops a god complex however since he “has authority over life and death”— something unique only to gods from what he was taught.
Very observant of the people around him. He memorizes speech patterns, demeanors, even the way people walk. He’s gotten to the point where he can read people and their intentions well before they’re explicitly stated, making it much easier for him to spot a lie. However this also makes it much easier for him to tell when he’s truly pushing somebody’s buttons, and there’s nothing he loves more than pushing people past their limit.
Always stealing glances of himself in any mirror he walks past
He’s an opportunistic killer. Limiting himself to patterns clashes with the creativity and the thrill of the moment to him. However, there are specific elements of a kill he will often repeat if the mood strikes him. An example of this would be often including strangulation (albeit usually not the direct cause of death) to reflect his acquired need for control in all moments of his life. Sometimes he will also pose bodies in a “prayer” position to call back that god complex I mentioned.
He doesn’t always kill people immediately. If someone catches his eye, usually because he finds them beautiful in some aspect, he’ll take it a step further. He has no problem with being patient when the situation arises for it- stalking the person, learning their habits and schedules, the whole shebang. He’ll then slowly start to ruin said person’s life, isolating them through the slaughter of those closest to them and destroying any sense of peace and security they once had. He’s the sound that goes -bump- in the night. He’ll toy with his food until he eventually grows bored, disposing them like all the rest. After all, how dare someone else try to be beautiful in his presence- a punishment of the highest order is necessary.
His anger can be very… explosive. He doesn’t stick around very long for enough people besides victims to see it, but it can be as unpredictable as his own kills. It’s worse when he’s silent in his anger however, since with the former you at least have enough of a warning to brace yourself.
Backstory-Centric HCs:
(TW: csa, murder, mutilation, religious trauma, general stuff)
Takes place in college. Jeff is 22 at the start while Liu is 20.
Instead of being a one-off instance, Jeff and Liu have been subjected to bullying/borderline harassment since middle school. This builds up Jeff’s gradual distrust of others and leads to him shutting himself off from his peers.
Most of said bullying revolved around their mixed race situation. It only got worse as Jeff shut himself off and Liu became a people pleaser.
The two didn’t even have peace at home, since their parents were sexually abusive and excused it through their religion. It was “all apart of god’s love” as they said. This + the bullying leads Liu to develop DID and kickstarts Jeff’s resentment towards their parents. It also led Jeff to develop a twisted belief on what love and beauty is since god apparently “favored” the beauty of his parent’s form of “love.”
On one particular instance of bullying/harassment, a small group of people he grew up with planned on jumping and mugging Jeff behind a bar. Things escalated when Jeff retaliated in self defense, beating his aggressors with a nearby pipe found laying against a dumpster. He didn’t leave unscathed however, since one of the attackers dropped a lighter into the flammable materials (alcohol, trash, etc) that had been scattered in the fight, planning on making everyone go down in that moment. Jeff managed to survive (albeit with severe burns along his body) after being found by an employee who went to go check out the noise/smell of smoke, but the others succumbed to their wounds.
While in a heavy state of shock and psychosis (paired with being drugged up out the wazoo at the hospital) his usual unchecked auditory hallucinations worsened, leading his mind to trick him into believing this situation was a sign from god- that he was supposed to survive while his tormentors burned. Paired with his already twisted concepts of love and beauty, he began to believe that his burns were part of god’s plan to make him more beautiful- because he was favored.
This only gets worse when he’s released from the hospital’s custody due to a neglect in checking his mental state. After being sent home with his family and therefore being thrown back into the abusive environment he hoped to escape when going to college he ends up experiencing a psychotic break, mutilating himself in the process.
When his parents catch him, they attack him. In their eyes he had disgraced them, no longer upholding the “beauty” of heaven that they enforced. He ends up killing them in self defense, but furthers it by mutilating their bodies in an act of defiance induced by his break. He believes he’s outdone god in this moment, deluding himself into thinking he’s on the same level (or even better) than god.
While overcome by his psychotic break, he ends up severely wounding Liu after he wakes up to check out the noise. It becomes a conspiracy on if Liu survived or not since his body was never found by authorities.
The reason why Jeff continues on his spree after these instances is the feel of control he gets. After being forced into submission by those around him for so long, he finally feels a stable sense of power over those he deems as less than him.
He ends up wandering throughout the states after this, hopping from town to town. He never stays in one place for long, although sometimes he’ll revisit his home town to give the urban legend fanatics something to fear again.
#long post woo#questions encouraged teehee#jeff the killer x reader#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta headcanon#creepypasta headcanons#creepypasta/you#creepypasta#headcanon#headcanons#jeffrey woods#homicidal liu#rewrite#writers on tumblr#the autism is autisming
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Master Post
For easier navigation, see the links below to my various Love and Deepspace Content. More under the cut. Lots of spoilers throughout.
Also, I am willing to take requests, if you want me to write or post something from the game, theorize about a particular aspect, or request a fic. I will try to write it up as I have time and inspiration. I make no promises though. Rafayel is my favorite (obviously), but I like them all. Just my preference, but I will only write one LI x MC pairings. No poly relationships or OCs for me. I'll consider NSFW requests, but nothing with minors, dubcon, noncon, etc.
Timelines (and related in game content):
Timeline from Xavier's Perspective Part 1 and Part 2.
Old Timeline
Rafayel's Timeline Redux Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7.
Rafayel's Timeline Redux Repost (All in one post)
Proposed Timeline for MC
Trying to Make Sense of Rafayel's Timeline (old)
Love and Deepspace: the Story So Far Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.
Journey Seeker
The Necklace
Doctor Bios
Love and Deepspace Prologue
Love and Deepspace Chapter 8 Epilogue
Repeating Pattern
Other In-Game Content:
Failing a Deepspace Trial with Rafayel
Cute Emojis and Max Pokes with Rafayel
Rafayel Affinity Level: 69, 70, 71
Happy Birthday Rafayel!
Rafayel Humming Cropped
Rafayel's Lvl 70 Secret Time "Treasure"
Rafayel Text Combat Rating
Rafayel's Teary Emoji
Theories and Observations:
Motifs in Love and Deepspace
Myth Ending Thoughts
Half-baked Theories
Eternal Sleep
Rafayel Tho
Rafayel's Expressions
Reactions to Injuries
Rafayel Event Ending
What Happened to Lemuria and Rafayel
Why Did Rafayel Do That?
Primary Conflict
Wavyleaf Sea Lavender (probably really Forget-Me-Nots)
Wild Theories About Rafayel
Jealousy
(Over) Analyzing the Love and Deepspace Theme Song
Rafayel Wants to be Wanted
Theories About Xavier and Caleb
Rafayel REALLY Wants to Marry You
Rafayel's Birthday Card Thoughts
Behind the Ice
Mt Eternal/Tower of Thorns Discussion
Who Met MC First
Theories About the Creatio, Philos’s Core, and Rafayel's Heart
Fanfics
Aeternum Vinculum
Tipsy Confession
Wholehearted
Fanfic/Headcanon Requests
Fanfic/Headcanon Request!
Angsty Fanfic/Headcanon Request Filled (here) (here) (here) (here)
NSFW Fanfic Request
SFW Fanfic/Headcanon Request Filled (here)
Rafayel Fanfic Request
Just For Fun
How Rafayel Sings
Relax Time with Rafayel
Rafayel Board
Virgin or Not?
Rafayel's Tears
Rafayel Playlist
UM WHAT
So are we going to talk about this?
How old is Rafayel?
My Boys
Boast Post
Songspiration
Follow Up to Ebb and Flow
For the girl constantly trying to get herself killed meme
Rafayel Spotify Playlist
Rafayel Threw the Game
My Current 5* Levels
Rafayel I will not hurt you RP
So Cute!
#love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel#zayne love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#love and deepspace zayne#love and deepspace xavier#xavier#zayne#lads rafayel#lads#lads xavier#lads zayne#l&ds#l&ds zayne#l&ds xavier#l&ds rafayel#lnds#rafayel x reader
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Look, social media aus are very dumb but fun to do fklxkdk Illya would make short videos (mostly) about fashion, and Napoleon would be very unsubtle about being a Spy
I am formally apologizing to the uncle fandom for tiktoker Illya Kuryakin, I have no regrets (also @quijicroix is part responsible, being my evil advisor)
Here are the posts in details, and the profile pics :)
[COMMISSIONS]
No process this time, just me yapping for way to long about every choice and refs that went into this dumb au below vvv
Illya is younger than Napoleon (I usualy headcanon him at around 25 and Napoleon 35ish), so I think their use of social media would be quite different : hence Illya on Tiktok and Napoleon on Instagram. Also it's not the 60s so Illya can be like 10% less reppressed :)) but as a debuff Napoleon now has the technology to call him a nerd
Illya's page started as a cover for some affair, but he ended up kinda enjoying doing it in his free time. It's like a hobby for him, a way to experiment with fashion ! It's what made him want to pursue fashion design as a career after his curent spy job. And also I think he gets more and more nervous the more followers he gets, because as a spy having a chance to get recognise in the street is really bad dkdldlos Napoleon teases him endlessly that he became a tiktoker (as he should)-
Did I, at one point in the project, had to scrap the thirst trap idea to keep the fashion nerd vibes ? Yes I did, but just know he uses the "twink" tag :)
• The first post is a ref to the discotheque affair, not the best episode and a great miss for not including a disco Illya outfit, so I made him one to match the other :D
• The second is to the Hot number, but he gets to wear the thrush pattern !
• The third one is what made me do all of this ! Because, if you're not french, you might not know about one of my favorite yearly twitter threads : Met Gala outfits as INSEE graphs by Clara Dealberto ! Don't care about the met gala, but this is very funny :) and such a Illya Kuryakin thing to do kdkdkd
• fourth one isn't fashion related, it's a ref to popart and the "he has Dostoïevski eyes" line that made us laught a lot
• A little Fiddlesticks for the dog post, because it's a banger episode. Plus a nod to he dog expert from it, with whom Illya had palpable sexual tension fkfkfkl I like to think they kept contact ;) (shoutout to this fic (Intensity by AconitumNapellus) who absolutely get the vision, 10/10 guy to "cheat" on your boyfriend with)
• and the final one is a make over because of course it is
As for Napoleon, being older and less invested in this, an instagram made sense. But crutialy, I get such strong modern oss117 vibes from Napoleon (the way he shoots his gun, the goofy faces, the awkward stance everytime he enters a place, the inexplicable in universe rizz...) dkfkldls modern oss117 was a parody of both 60s james bond and older oss117 movies, but I'm now convinced they also whatched some uncle while doing these, it's just so obvious- anyway all this to say, in the second movie oss117 has to pose as a photographer and gets way too invested in his cover (it's his thing don't question it), and at the end of the movie we get to see all the photography he took during his mission..... Let me tell you how hard it was to resist him having an instagram full of blurry women on the street (canon 60s napoleon would have done it I'm sorry)- but what I kept was the pretty "badly" shot pics of random things, tho you sometimes get the odd decent pic taken by Illya. And he gets to be in a duck floatie as a treat and nod to oss <3
• Pinned post is because it became frustrating for him having to respond to people asking him if it was his real name or if he was a far right french man simping for Bonaparte
• first post is not a ref, but if my very sexy flat car was burning in the desert I would take a pic (ft Illya despairing) kdkdkd
• Duck floatie is a oss117 ref
• selfie with a beautiful woman (ft his finger), no ref I just love drawing women
• also Fiddlesticks for the cute Napoleon fox !! And to kinda link the two profiles :)
• and finaly Spy with my face ! He tried taking a picture of his date (I'll let you decide who it was), but oops front facing camera kdkdkdk
Can you tell I had a lot of fun doing this ? I love this show way to much omfg
PS : if you've never seen the recent oss117 movies, you should they funny ! But oh god some jokes are terrible- the first one is the best, minus one gay joke frankly not great. They nail the gay joke in the second one but oh god... They do not always win the 'is our character a piece of shit or is the movie problematic' gamble so be aware of that. And the 3rd one is shit don't bother
PPS : I don't use Tiktok, I tried my best to emulate the feeling of it but be aware I have no idea what I'm doing dkkdld
#I really like doing little tmfu sketches !#I gave my magnum opus to this fandom but rn I'm happy just doing goofy shit :)#illya kuryakin#napoleon solo#napollya#and a hint of#illya kuryakin x guido panzini#social media au#tmfu#tmfu tv#the man from uncle#illya kuryakin fanart#napoleon solo fanart#art#my art#digital art#fanart#tmfu fanart#sketches#david mccallum#robert vaughn
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Piotr Rasputin/Colossus SFW Alphabet
hi, I'm still alive I promise! Still working on fics, but wanted to throw this out here as a fun little writing exercise with the SFW alphabet! So, without further ado...
taglist: @master-sass-blast @osmiumamygdala @black-but-mildly-sunny @seconds-2-midnight
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Piotr is a very physically affectionate man - pats on the back, a hand up if you’re struggling to climb over an obstacle, a hand on your shoulder and a squeeze as he passes. He would struggle at first if you didn’t like physical affection or were uncomfortable with being touched, but his next go-to would be acts of service. Dishes needed to be washed? Done. Laundry needs to be folded? He’s already on it and put on your favorite show so you can watch as you two pair the socks together; he likes making your life easier if he can.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
He’s the type of best friend who you know that if you go to for help, he’s going to help in whatever capacity he can. That being said, he’s the type to offer you solutions and advice as he’s doing it; if you need to vent, you’re going to have to tell him otherwise he’s going to try and fix it as best he can. The type of best friend to give you a lecture for ending up in a bad situation, but still comes to your rescue even if you're an hour away and it’s 3AM on a weeknight.
The friendship starts naturally, you’re a colleague of his at Xavier’s or a friend of a friend and Piotr just…fits in your life. He slots in and makes a home for himself in your life, and you in his.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
He’s a big fan of cuddles, although always very hesitant to initiate since he is one - very large and heavy - and two - covered in a hard metallic armor almost 85% of the time. You’re going to have to initiate and assure him you’re comfortable, and only then will he willingly cuddle up.
That being said, he’s a big fan of laying on his back with you nestled up to his side and your head on his chest. He’s got an arm draped over your side, lazily tracing patterns on your skin and holding you close.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
On paper he’d love to settle down, but knows the reality comes with conditions that he could never willingly ask a partner to be okay with. He’s still a superhero, and so many people would still need his help; if he had to choose between a mission where lives are at stake and you asking him to stay, he hates to admit how difficult a decision it would be. He doesn’t know if he could ever ‘retire’ in the traditional sense, settle down and leave the hero work on the shelf, but if anyone could persuade him, it’d be you.
He’s an alright cleaner in the fact he doesn’t make much of a mess to begin with. Piotr always picks up after himself, and is a very big fan of Marie Kondo’s mantra of keeping a clean and tidy space. As far as cooking goes, he’s good at cooking very specific dishes - Russian comfort food, anyone? But beyond that his cooking is a bit bland; the type to eat chicken breasts and steamed vegetables for every meal because it’s quick, easy, and keeps him fueled. You’re going to need to teach him to use seasonings.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
If there is one man in the world who gives people too many chances, it’s Piotr. He always wants to give people the benefit of the doubt, the chance to change or improve. That being said, the point where the relationship would end would be if a major boundary was crossed; at that point, it’s time to reevaluate and have a serious conversation about the trajectory of the relationship. It would be awkward, and uncomfortable, because he would never want to intentionally hurt his partner, but also he would be quick to the point. Not wanting to drag it on any longer than it’s already gone.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Piotr likes the idea of commitment, of having a partner to share things with. Not so much having a ‘better half’ but just having someone there for him, and someone he can be there for in turn. It would probably take him 3-4 years of serious dating before he would want to get married, although he’s the type to dream about it around 6 months into the relationship.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
As Colossus, he had to teach himself to be gentle - to not accidentally crush someone’s hand in a handshake or put his foot through the floor with each step - it’s carried over even when he’s not armored up. He’s extremely gentle, very aware of the strength of his hands or how his large frame fills a room and could very easily knock over an end table (or, god forbid, a person) with the slightest brush of his hip.
He would need to teach himself to be gentle with his emotions as well, his frustration or anxiety coming off as overbearing or lecturing at first (again, you’ll need to specifically tell him not to offer solutions when you just need to vent). That being said, he’s not the type that’s prone to emotional outbursts, but rather has the need to channel his negative emotions into action rather than sitting with them and fully processing them.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Loves hugs, is perfect for hugs, hugs his friends often (if they are okay with it). He’s a big bear hugger, the type to pick the other person up by the armpits and swing them around if the occasion calls for it.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
As soon as he knows the other person feels the same, he’s going to say it. Not the type to be subtle in his affections for his friends or romantic partners, so at most maybe 6 months into the relationship.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Piotr doesn’t get jealous; if you’re in a relationship together, then he trusts you and knows not to be jealous if you’re spending time with anyone else or aren’t giving him your full undivided attention. He knows you have a life outside of him and your relationship, and he actively encourages it.
Of course, that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to be protective. He’s not jealous because somebody is taking up all your attention, but he is absolutely moving and putting an arm around you if you show any outward sign of being uncomfortable; he’s going to physically move you behind him, if needed. He’s going to check up on you when you’re with your friends, a quick text to make sure you’re having fun and then another to ask when you’ll be home; he’ll wait up for you to come home and breathe a little easier when you walk through the door.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
If he’s armored up, his skin is cool to the touch and his lips are no different as they gently brush against yours. Butterfly soft, the smallest amount of pressure as if he’s afraid you’ll break under him. He’s a big fan of forehead kisses (it’s the easiest kiss to give when you’re almost seven feet tall) but also kisses to both your cheeks and then a soft, final press of his lips against yours.
Kiss his knuckles, his palms, and he’s a goner. He’s so used to his hands being used to smash through walls and push through obstacles, that the gentle press of your lips against his joints has him stopped dead in his tracks.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Loves kids, is fantastic around kids. He is very large and is the perfect jungle gym for rambunctious children, but also can be very gentle and encouraging with any of the shyer ones who are intimidated by a large man made of metal. He’s still a bit of a stickler for rules and structure, no desserts before dinner and all vegetables must be eaten, but makes up for it by just being a really fun adult that kids kind of gravitate towards.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Piotr’s mornings are typically his busiest time; if he’s not working out in the morning, then he’s preparing for the day ahead with his various lessons. Is a very early riser as well, has an internal alarm clock that goes off at 6AM regardless of whether or not it’s a weekend and makes it so he cannot fall back asleep.
Of course, that leads to morning cuddles if it’s the rare occasion where he actually doesn’t have a million things to do that day. He never takes those mornings for granted, holding you close and inhaling the scent of your shampoo and molding his body to spoon yours. If there’s nothing else to do that day, he’ll spend the entire morning like that.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Piotr’s night time routine is less strict than his morning one, mostly focusing on winding down for the evening and getting comfortable before going to bed. A nice shower, pajamas and a chapter of the latest book he’s reading before turning off the lights and waiting for sleep to come. He tries to avoid any screen time before bed, if he can help it, but absolutely will get invested in whatever show you’re watching and will watch an episode with you before bed.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
Piotr is a fairly open type of person as far as revealing things about himself, although isn’t the type to say it out of nowhere without a proper relationship being established. If you ask him anything, he’ll almost always give you a straightforward answer, but won’t necessarily give the nitty gritty details until a proper relationship and mutual trust is created.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Patience of a saint, it takes so much to get him to show any frustration beyond general annoyance or displeasure. True anger is difficult to get from Piotr, and is usually reserved for very specific circumstances or people.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
He is the type to make notes in his phone if you mention you like a certain brand of something or a specific snack. Those flowers you mentioned offhand? He has a note in his phone and a reminder to place an order to the florist on Valentine’s Day and your birthday. It's an effort, and doesn’t necessarily come naturally to him to remember all the little details, but wants to make you happy so keeps a running list of things that make you happy.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
There’s a moment in the relationship where the dynamic shifts, where it’s less ‘I am trying to impress/entice this person into a relationship’ and it becomes more ‘this is my friend who I love but also am romantically involved with and would tear this world down for’. That moment would be Piotr’s favorite, and it would be a casual moment; the two of you in pajamas, perhaps both in the same room but idly doing your own thing. And it’s then that Piotr looks over at you, in one of his t-shirts and a face mask while you scroll absentmindedly on your phone,and there’s something in that moment when you look up at him and smile that makes his heart clench. There’s nothing particularly special, but it’s you and him and he feels so…at peace in your presence.
It’s at that moment he knows you could ask him to do anything, ask him to jump and he’d ask how high, and it both frightens and exhilarates him to know that you - wonderful, imperfectly perfect you - have this much power over him. A man who regularly faces life or death for a cause bigger than himself as casually as some people court lovers, and he’d throw it all down for the person sitting next to him.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
He’d wrap you in bubble wrap if he could, carry you down every flight of stairs if it meant your safety. Not because he doubts your ability or because he wants to undermine your autonomy, but because the thought of you getting hurt - especially when he could have prevented it - would kill him. If he can’t protect you, what is he? He’s the shield for his team, the battering ram when the situation calls for it, but for you he’ll be an entire suit of armor.
Of course he knows that’s not feasible to always be there to save you, but it doesn’t stop him from always watching you a bit closer, having a hand at your side, or walking on the side of you that faces traffic. If you’d try to do the same for him, step in front of him or try to shield his body with your own - at first he won’t know what to think. He’s so used to being the one to take the hits, and to have someone willing to take them for him? Well, it’s going to take some getting used to, and it probably contributes to him falling for you a bit faster than he usually would.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
He puts in a lot more effort than he puts on when it comes to dates and anniversaries and holidays. He has it planned down to the letter - your favorite restaurant, the flowers that you mentioned offhandedly that you liked, and the outfit you said he looked so handsome in. Of course, it’s played off as effortless, just another part of his routine, and you’ll quickly see the cracks start to form if something goes off course.
Just kiss his hand and assure him it’s perfect, as long as he’s there beside you, and he’ll quickly resume sweeping you off your feet.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Stickler for routine, needs structure or else he will quickly fall into bad habits fueled by self doubt. Often questions his place in the grand scheme of things if he feels like he is not fulfilling his role as a protector, and can spiral very quickly into depression or self destructive habits.
Also, he will wear shorts and a tank top no matter how cold it gets. He’s that kid, you know the one.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Piotr’s interesting in this regard - he doesn’t so much care for his looks as far as aesthetics go. I’ve touched on this in previous asks and various drabbles, but he lifts and works out to be strong rather than to look a certain way. It’s functional, and he's more of a strongman than a bodybuilder, if that makes sense. He works out and stays fit because it suits his lifestyle and helps him be the Colossus his team needs him to be, getting ripped isn’t so much the prerogative. Of course, he enjoys looking strong and like he could tear the doors off a car without trying, and he’s the type to change if he notices a stain on his shirt, but for the most part he’s not a very vain person as far as looks are concerned. He dresses for comfort and utility rather than fashion most of the time, but he has the capacity to dress up if needed.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Incomplete isn’t the right word. He’d feel like something was lacking, like he was missing something that would otherwise make him happy, but he would still be able to function. You don’t make him Piotr, just like he doesn’t make you…well, you. It’s an added bonus of having another person around, and it would be great if you were there and he’ll certainly miss you if you aren’t there, but he’ll be able to function without you. He’ll have to, at least that’s what he tells himself.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Okay, so the Russian stereotype of drinking vodka like it’s water is very prevalent, and yeah Piotr’s able to drink a lot and stay relatively sober, but he doesn’t really like the feeling of being inebriated beyond a slight buzz. It’s a dangerous game to get him really drunk, not only for anyone trying to keep up with him, but also for him. Drunk Piotr is a sad, sappy Piotr who is going to hold onto his friends or significant other and cry into their shoulder while forgetting his own strength. He has absolutely broken a few barstools (and a few bars) by getting too inebriated for his own good and completely forgetting that he can smash through most surfaces with little to no effort.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
I think Piotr wouldn’t be a fan of people who are completely resistant to change or self improvement - he wants to grow and try new things with you! You can be hesitant, you’ll work up to it together and he’ll be the most supportive person in your corner, but to completely shut him down or resist it altogether would really dishearten him. I also think a lack of ambition would really turn him off - if you have a goal, no matter how small, he wants to be there to help you achieve it.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Once he settles down and is fully out cold, he does not move. Absolutely still, he’s conditioned himself to not to move or throw out an arm in fear it’ll strike out and break another bedside table. This will be doubled if you are sleeping beside him, he would be terrified of accidentally rolling over in his sleep on top of you!
#colossus#piotr rasputin#colossus x reader#marvel x reader#xmen x reader#stone writings#xmen#marvel#peter rasputin
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