#this clicked on this rewatch and i have rewatched this before | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pucksandpower · 27 days

Text

Young Love and Old Money

Max Verstappen x Stroll!Reader

Summary: Max quickly learns that life with the paddock’s favorite nepo baby as his girlfriend is never boring

You take a deep breath as the town car pulls up to the grand arched doorway of your family’s Montreal estate. Beside you, Max squeezes your hand gently.

“Don’t worry, schatje,” he says, “Your father will love me.”

You smile nervously. “I hope so. But you know how protective he can be.”

Max grins. “I can handle it.”

The driver opens the door and you step out into the crisp night air, your heels clicking on the cobblestone. Max follows, straightening his suit jacket.

Inside, the foyer glitters with crystal chandeliers. A maid hurries to take your coats. As she leads you to the formal dining room, your heart pounds.

This dinner needs to go perfectly.

Your father and Lance are already seated at the long mahogany table, chatting. They look up as you enter and break into smiles.

“Y/N!” Your father exclaims warmly, standing to embrace you. “So wonderful to see you, mon minou.”

You hug him tightly back. “You too, Papa.”

Lance grins as he hugs you next. “Hey sis. Long time no see.”

You playfully mess up his hair. “Too long, little bro.”

Finally, you turn to Max, who is waiting patiently. “Papa, Lance, you already know my boyfriend, Max.”

Max steps forward confidently and shakes their hands. “Mr. Stroll, Lance, it’s an honor to finally meet you both properly.”

Your father looks Max up and down appraisingly. “The honor is mine, Max. Please, call me Lawrence.”

You let out a small sigh of relief as you all take your seats. So far, so good.

The first course is brought out — a decadent lobster bisque. You all sip appreciatively.

“Delicious,” Max compliments.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” your father says graciously. “Now, tell me Max, how is your season going so far?”

You tense slightly. Here it comes, the interrogation.

But Max just smiles. “It’s been excellent. A few tough races, but I’m leading the championship at the moment. The car has great pace and I think we have a shot at the title again this year.”

Lance jumps in enthusiastically. “I saw your battle with Charles last race when I was rewatching the tape. Epic stuff, man!”

“Thanks, mate,” Max chuckles. “It was a fun one for sure.”

You exhale in relief. Max is charming them perfectly.

The conversation flows easily through the next few courses. You can’t help but gaze admiringly at Max as he seamlessly meshes with your family. He has a natural confidence and charisma that puts everyone at ease.

Over dessert, your father says warmly, “Max, I can see why my Y/N cares for you. You’re clearly an exceptional young man, both on and off the track.”

Max smiles, touched. “Thank you, sir. Y/N is very special to me.” He squeezes your hand.

You beam, your heart swelling. This is going even better than you hoped.

You finish up the chocolate mousse and set down your spoon contentedly. “That was delicious. This dinner has been wonderful, thank you Papa.”

“Of course,” your father says fondly. “I’m so glad you both could make it out here from Monaco.”

“Thank you for having me,” Max adds.

“Anytime,” Lawrence smiles.

You glance around the table happily. Your boyfriend fits right in with your family. Everything feels so natural and perfect.

“Daddy, could you please pass the sugar?” You ask amiably.

Immediately, both Max and your father’s hands reach for the small pot of sugar in the center of the table. They both freeze awkwardly for a second, before Lawrence pulls his hand back slowly.

You feel your stomach drop as you see the dawning realization cross your father’s face.

Oh no.

This is bad.

Lawrence’s smile becomes forced. “So tell me Max, what exactly does my daughter call you?”

Max’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Um, just Max usually.”

You sink down in your chair, wincing.

Your father lets out a hollow laugh. “Is that so? Because it didn’t sound like that to me.”

A leaden silence descends on the table. Lance glances between you all, smothering a smirk.

Max clears his throat awkwardly. “Well, uh, that’s just a casual nickname really ...”

Lawrence raises an eyebrow. “A casual nickname you say? For my daughter to call her boyfriend in front of her family?”

You close your eyes, willing yourself to vanish. This is excruciatingly embarrassing.

“Dad, come on,” Lance snickers, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “They’re young, it’s whatever.”

“No Lance, it’s not whatever,” your father snaps, an edge in his voice now. “I would like Max to explain himself here.”

Max holds up his hands placatingly. “Sir, I apologize if we’ve made you uncomfortable. But I assure you our relationship is completely respectful.”

You nod quickly. “Papa, he’s right. Can we please just move on?”

But Lawrence is unyielding. “I will not have anyone take liberties with my daughter, do you understand me, young man?”

Max looks properly chastened. “Yes sir, of course. I meant no offense.”

Your father bristles as he glares between you. The awkward tension hovers for several painful moments.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. “Papa, stop!” You blurt out. “I’m an adult now. You can’t control what I choose to do with my boyfriend.”

Lawrence looks stunned, then hurt. “Y/N, I’m just looking out for you ...”

“I know, but I don’t need protecting from Max. He’s wonderful and he makes me so happy. Can’t you let me make my own choices?”

Your father’s expression softens. He sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just … so hard for me to think of you growing up.”

You reach over and squeeze his hand. “I know. But I’ll always be your little girl.”

Lawrence smiles tenderly at you, then turns to Max. “Forgive my outburst, son. I can see how much you care for each other.”

Max looks relieved. “Of course, sir. I understand completely.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Crisis averted.

Your father stands, raising his glass. “To young love. May you always treat my daughter with the honor and respect she deserves.”

“I will, sir,” Max promises earnestly.

You all clink glasses, the tension dissolving. Conversation resumes, lighter and more relaxed now.

Later, as Max helps you on with your coat, your father claps him warmly on the back. “Thank you for making my daughter so happy. You’ll always be welcome in our home.”

Max’s face lights up. “Thank you, sir. That means the world.”

Lawrence winks. “I was young once too, you know. Just maybe keep the nicknames to yourselves around me.”

You all laugh together. Your heart swells with joy. Despite the awkward moments, the evening couldn’t have gone better.

As the chauffeur drives off into the night, you snuggle contentedly into Max’s shoulder. “Thank you for being so wonderful tonight,” you whisper.

He kisses your hair. “Of course, liefje. I would do it all over again for you.”

***

The sleek red Ferrari glints under the showroom lights as you and Max admire your reflection in the gleaming curves.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Max grins, running his hand along the hood. “I can’t wait to take her out on the open road.”

You smile at his childlike enthusiasm. “She certainly is gorgeous. You have great taste, babe.”

The salesman steps forward eagerly. “Yes, the Ferrari SF90 Stradale is our newest supercar model. Twin-turbo V8, 720 horsepower. She’ll do 0 to 60 in under three seconds.”

Max’s eyes light up. “Incredible. I think I’m in love already.”

You laugh. “Should I be jealous?”

“Never,” Max winks, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

The salesman smiles indulgently. “Why don’t we step into my office to finalize the paperwork?”

“Sounds good,” Max agrees, lacing his fingers through yours as you follow the salesman.

In the sleek minimalist office, you both take a seat across from the desk as the salesman pulls up Max’s file.

“Excellent. Everything looks in order, Mr. Verstappen,” he says briskly. “If you just sign here and here, we’ll get you all set up.”

Max eagerly scrawls his signature on the documents. You watch in amusement — he reminds you of a kid on Christmas morning.

“Alright, congratulations!” The salesman stands and shakes Max’s hand. “The SF90 is all yours. We’ll have her prepped and ready for you within the hour.”

“Amazing, thanks so much,” Max grins, standing up.

You’re about to follow him out when a flash of black catches your eye. Through the office window, you spot a brand new Ferrari model on display in the showroom.

“Ooh what’s that one?” You ask curiously, gazing at the aggressive curves and styling.

The salesman glances over. “The new 812 Competizione A. It is a limited edition 599-unit production run. Just unveiled last month.”

You feel a thrill run through you as you take in the stunning hypercar. “It’s incredible. I have to have it.”

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? You want that one too?”

You turn to the salesman decisively. “I’ll take it. My family has bought from Ferrari for years, my name should be in your client database.”

“Of course, Miss Stroll,” the salesman nods, typing rapidly into his computer. “I see you right here. Let’s start the paperwork and we’ll get the car ordered for you right away.”

You grab your purse, immediately fishing out your black Centurion Card. “Just bill it to my usual card, thanks,” you say breezily, handing it over.

You can feel Max’s stunned gaze on you but you keep your focus on the salesman, reviewing the spec sheet and customization options.

This new Ferrari is just too sexy to resist.

Within minutes, the paperwork is signed and you’ve secured the very first 812 Competizione A destined to stay in Monaco. You grin excitedly — you can’t wait to get your hands on it.

“Thank you so much, just have it delivered to my place in the Fontvieille district when it’s ready,” you tell the appreciative salesman before turning to leave.

You lace your fingers through Max’s, still smiling about your new spontaneously purchased hypercar. “Ready to take your new baby out for a drive?”

Max is quiet as you walk back to the showroom, seemingly lost in thought. He stays silent as the gleaming red SF90 Stradale is pulled around, not even cracking a smile when the salesman hands over the keys with a flourish.

It’s not until you’ve been driving for several minutes, weaving along the coastal roads overlooking the Mediterranean, that Max finally speaks.

“That was 2.13 million euros,” he states flatly. “And you just ... bought it. Without a second thought.”

You glance over, taking in the unreadable expression on his face. “I mean, yeah, it’s a beautiful model. Why not just get it?” You say casually.

Max shakes his head slowly. “I just can’t wrap my head around having that kind of money. That you can just drop over two million without thinking twice.”

You shift slightly, feeling defensive. “I’m sorry, does it make you uncomfortable? I know I grew up with a very different lifestyle ...”

“No, that’s not it at all,” Max interrupts. He pauses, gazing out at the sparkling blue sea pensively.

“It’s just … I’m not used to being with someone who’s on my level. Financially, I mean. All my previous girlfriends, I always had to take care of everything. Pay for dinner, vacations, whatever they needed.”

He turns to look at you. “But you’re different. You have as much money as me, more even. You can buy a hypercar on a whim, no problem. It’s new territory.”

You chew your lip. “I don’t want you to feel emasculated or anything. If you want to pay or take care of things ...”

Max shakes his head again, more firmly this time. “That’s just it — I don’t. I like that you’re independent. It’s really ...”

He pauses, blushing slightly. “Sexy. That’s the word. It’s sexy that you have your own money and success. I’m not used to feeling that in a relationship before.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. That was not the reaction you were expecting.

Max glances at you almost shyly. “Is that weird to say? I just mean, it’s different than what I’m used to, but in a good way. Like we’re equals, you know?”

Slowly, a smile spreads across your face. “No, not weird at all. I get what you mean.” You reach over and squeeze his hand. “This is new territory for me too. But I like discovering it together.”

Max’s face lights up with that radiant smile that melts your heart. “Me too, liefje.”

Your conversation flows easily as you cruise along the seaside, the setting sun glittering on the water. And seeing the look in his eyes when he glances at you now — equal parts love and admiration — you realize just how right it feels.

Being with someone who can match you in every way is new and different for both of you. But you have a feeling it’s the start of something beautiful.

***

The energy buzzing around the paddock is electric as you walk hand-in-hand with Max towards the Red Bull motorhome. Fans line the barriers, cheering and shouting his name. Max smiles and waves, slowing to sign autographs and snap selfies with outstretched phones.

You hang back politely as he interacts with his adoring public. You know the drill by now, having attended countless races with your dad and brother over the years. Blend into the background and let the drivers have their moment.

“Max! Can we get an autograph?” A young girl calls out eagerly, brandishing a cap and marker pen.

“Of course!” Max says graciously, letting go of your hand to walk over.

You hang back contentedly, happy to let him have his moment with his supporters. You catch snippets of their supportive comments as Max signs item after item, posing for selfies in between.

“You’re the greatest, Max!”

“That last win was epic. Get that fourth title this year!”

“We love you so much!”

You smile to yourself. Seeing how much joy Max brings to these fans makes your heart swell with pride and affection.

As you stand waiting patiently, you overhear the girl lean over to her friend and not-so-subtly whisper, “Who’s the chick with Max? She looks kinda stuck up if you ask me.”

Your smile freezes. You see the girl jerk her head rudely in your direction, glaring at you.

“I know right,” her friend agrees in a carrying whisper. “Another gold-digger who managed to sink her claws into a rich man too blind to see what she’s doing.”

You clench your jaw, stung by their spiteful words. Who do they think they are, judging you when they don’t even know you?

Max is still occupied with the other fans, oblivious. You debate whether to just ignore the rude girls. But their jealous gossiping has sparked your defiance. Why should you stay silent?

Squaring your shoulders, you turn and level a steady gaze at them. “For your information, I don’t need a rich man. I am a rich man,” you state coldly.

Their eyes widen in shock, mouths dropping open stupidly. Clearly they weren’t expecting you to confront them.

Before they can react, Max is suddenly beside you, slipping his arm around your waist.

“Whoa, everything okay here?” His gaze darts between you and the embarrassed fans.

You take a breath, ready to explain it away. But Max doesn’t give you the chance.

“You know, if anything, I’m the one who got my claws hooked into her,” he announces, lips curving into a smirk.

Now it’s your turn to gape at him in surprise. The nasty fans look completely bewildered.

“That’s right ladies, I’m just a kept man,” Max continues lightly. “Her arm candy. A sugar baby, if you will.”

He pretends to examine his nails arrogantly and you have to stifle a shocked laugh. Is he actually joking about being your boy toy right now?

Max leans in conspiratorially. “Between you and me, dating a Stroll has done wonders for my bank account. I mean have you seen the new and improved garage decor?”

You smother your grin behind your hand as he prattles on, winking at you.

“So don’t worry about Y/N here, she can buy and sell me twice over.” Max presses a smacking kiss to your cheek. “Isn’t that right, schatje?”

Finally you can’t hold back your laughter anymore. Max joins in and the fans stare, unsure how to react.

“Come on sugar mama, we’ve got a race to win,” Max says breezily, steering you away.

Once safely inside the garage, you turn to him incredulously. “What was that all about?”

Max shrugs, his expression sobering. “I heard what they said. Just wanted to shut them up and defend my girl.”

Your heart melts. Standing on your tiptoes, you kiss him soundly. “My hero. Thank you.”

Max still looks bothered. “You shouldn’t have to deal with stupid gossip. Especially not lies about you using me.”

You slip your arms around his neck persuasively. “It usually doesn’t get to me. Let the jealous haters talk. We know the truth.”

He sighs, gently moving a strand of hair from your face. “I just hate anyone thinking badly of you. You deserve the world.”

Touched by his sincerity, you pull him down into a soft kiss. When you finally draw apart, an idea pops into your head.

“Although ...” you begin thoughtfully, “Maybe we should lean into it.”

Max looks confused. “What do you mean?”

You grin mischievously. “You’re my hot trophy boyfriend. I need to show you off and treat you right.”

Comprehension dawns on Max’s face and he barks out a laugh. “Well I won’t say no to being spoiled.”

He winks roguishly and you dissolve into giggles. The stupid gossipers don’t know anything. You and Max are just perfect together.

For the rest of the weekend, you shamelessly flaunt your new role as Max’s “sugar mommy.” At every opportunity, you shower him with over-the-top gifts and PDA in front of the other drivers and team members.

Designer watches, bouquets of flowers, bottles of decadent gin for his favorite drink — you deliver them all publicly to Max along with cooed compliments and kisses. You can see the amusement hidden behind his mock protests at being “objectified.”

The other drivers are endlessly entertained. Daniel teases Max about latching onto an heiress, while Charles jokingly asks if you have a sister he can date.

By the time Max wins on Sunday, cementing his spot at the top of the championship, the silly gossip from earlier in the weekend is long forgotten.

As you snuggle together on the flight home from the race, you turn to Max curiously. “So, how does it feel being a kept man?”

He pretends to consider it deeply. “Hmm, tough to say. The gifts and pampering were nice ...”

You swat his chest indignantly and he laughs.

“Kidding, kidding,” he assures, pulling you tighter against him. “Obviously I love you for you, not your money, schatje.”

His voice softens. “Thank you for this weekend. I know the gossip bothered you, even if you didn’t show it. I’m lucky to have you by my side.”

You tilt your face up to meet his lips, kissing him tenderly. No more words are needed. Being together says it all.

***

The roar of the crowd surrounds you as you step onto the red carpet on Max’s arm, cameras flashing wildly. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and leans in close.

“You ready for this, liefje?”

You take a deep breath and nod, pasting on a smile. “Ready.”

This is your big formal debut — attending your first FIA Prize Giving Ceremony as Max’s girlfriend. And with him just winning his fourth World Championship, all eyes are sure to be on you both tonight.

You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you begin the walk down the carpet, waving politely to the fans shouting Max’s name. He looks completely at ease, his fourth-straight title boosting his confidence even higher.

You, on the other hand, feel like you might trip over your gown at any moment under the blinding spotlights. But you keep your chin high, channeling the poise that’s been drilled into you since girlhood.

Perks of growing up in high society — you know how to fake it on a red carpet.

About halfway down, an interviewer steps forward, microphone in hand. “Max Verstappen! Congratulations on your fourth championship. How are you feeling tonight?”

Max smiles easily. “Thank you, it feels amazing. It was a great battle all season long so this one feels very satisfying.”

The reporter nods, then turns her attention to you. “And who is this lovely lady accompanying you tonight?”

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N,” Max introduces you proudly.

“Y/N, you look absolutely stunning tonight, if you don’t mind me saying,” the interviewer gushes. “That gown is exquisite!”

You relax slightly, warming to her friendly tone. “Thank you so much!” You smile.

“In fact, both of your outfits are fabulous,” she continues. “Who are you wearing tonight?”

Max’s face lights up. He squeezes your hand excitedly. “Funny you should ask — we’re both wearing custom Y/N Stroll originals!”

You have to resist the urge to giggle at the unconcealed pride in his voice.

The interviewer’s eyes widen. “No way, you designed these yourselves?”

You nod, enjoying her reaction. “I did, yeah. Fashion design is a bit of a hobby of mine.”

“A hobby she’s amazing at,” Max interjects adoringly. “She could have her own luxury brand if she wanted. I feel so honored to wear her work.”

You blush at his high praise. “Oh Max, stop. But thank you, that’s so sweet.”

The reporter seems thrilled at this exclusive scoop. “Incredible! It looks like you have some serious talent, Y/N. Any plans to pursue that more seriously?”

You hesitate briefly. Your father has been gently nudging you to take over his fashion business when he retires. But that’s still in the future ...

You decide to give a lighthearted answer. “We’ll see! Fashion does run in my family so it’s always a possibility.” You finish with a coy smile.

“How wonderful! We’ll be keeping an eye out for Y/N Stroll designs in the future then,” the reporter concludes enthusiastically.

You grin and wave as she lets you continue down the carpet, Max’s arm securely around your waist.

“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” He murmurs in your ear.

“Not at all,” you admit. “I might get used to this whole red carpet thing after all.”

Max winks. “Stick with me and you’ll be a pro in no time.”

Your heart flutters happily. Being by his side just feels so right.

Inside the lavish venue, you’re shown to your table near the front with the other top drivers and their partners. Max pulls out your chair politely before sitting down beside you.

You chat with the other girls at the table, fellow WAGs you’ve gotten to know over the course of the season. They gush over the dress you designed, making you promise to create something for them too.

Soon, the lights dim and the ceremony begins. You clap loudly as Max wins Driver of the Year, bursting with pride for your champion.

Finally, the moment comes for the big one. The announcer begins the buildup, recapping the season’s epic title battle between Max and his closest rival.

"… And in the end, one man emerged victorious for the fourth time in his young but dazzling career,” the announcer concludes. “Formula 1 World Driver’s Champion ... Max Verstappen!”

The room explodes into thunderous applause as Max squeezes your hand and makes his way up to the stage, beaming. You watch with tears in your eyes as he accepts the trophy, looking so handsome and accomplished.

After the ceremony finishes, Max makes his way back to you, trophy in hand. You throw your arms around him. “I’m so proud of you!”

He hugs you tight, then pulls back, his expression earnest. “I couldn’t have done it without your support this season. Having you by my side means everything to me.”

Your heart swells and you kiss him tenderly. “You deserve this so much. And nothing makes me happier than being with you.”

Max’s eyes shine. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Max.”

2K notes · View notes

madlori · 16 days

Text

On Tommy Kinard

"It's not that I don't like Buck and Tommy, it's just happening so fast, he's underdeveloped!"

*clears throat*

Here is a recap of what we know about Tommy. And this is just off the top of my head, I didn't rewatch anything.

He was closeted at the 118 before and found the atmosphere repressive. He (probably) acted like a dick to fit in. When presented with the chance to make things better, he took it, and developed positive relationships with Hen, Chim and Bobby.

He was in the army and trained there as a pilot.

He knows Muay Thai and has a set up in his house.

He likes to work on cars and has a lift at his house (where TF does he live is my question - he has some nerve being agog at Buck's loft if he has a muay thai gym and a car lift)

He is down for violating departmental policy at the drop of a hat (has done so on at least two occasions) to help a friend and has no problems fucking with the fire chief.

He is a nerd. He likes pub trivia and has incorrect Star Wars opinions, and can keep up with Chim in the movie-quoting department.

His favorite movie is "Love, Actually" and he likes craft beer and monster trucks.

He came out when he transferred to Harbor and felt comfortable enough to stop lying about who he was.

He follows MMA and has friends in Vegas who like him well enough to hook him up to a frankly insane degree.

He'll risk his own life and engage in helicopter skulduggery to save people he doesn't know...I mean, apart from doing that for a living.

He'll take time out of his day to give a tour to the cute boy who called him up and offer to give that boy flying lessons (a significant time investment) which was probably maybe about more one on one time with said boy.

He yearns for the belonging and found family that the 118 became after his departure and probably befriended Eddie hoping to earn a plate at the cookout, aside from just clicking with him.

He likes Eddie and Chris a lot and they like him. Chimney also likes him.

He was attracted to Buck right away and was emotionally aware enough to pick up on Buck's jealous feelings over Eddie and his friendship, even if he was surprised that it was him Buck wanted to get to know.

He respects and values Buck and Eddie's friendship and wanted to make sure Buck knew that.

He's brave enough to shoot his shot by planting one on a dude.

He's a lil bitchy but also generous and ready to throw in with this insane guy who's inviting him to a family wedding after 0.5 dates.

He showed up to a bachelor party when he was on call because Buck asked him to, then showed up in turnouts after fighting a fire for like 12 hours yadda yadda we all know this part.

He has got it BAD for one Evan Buckley, who he only calls "Evan" which according to LFJR is a conscious decision by the writers, which fascinates me.

He was willing to take a chance with a man just discovering his sexuality BUT wasn't willing to put himself through that if the man in question wasn't ready for it. When Buck showed him that he was, he was all in.

He does NOT take his coffee like that.

Oh and

He's a beast.

This is VASTLY more information than we knew about ANY of Buck's previous girlfriends with the possible exception of Abby. Even Taylor did not get this much development over 20 episodes (things we knew about her: she was an ambitious and ethically flexible reporter, did not eat fudge, had a dad in jail, and sometimes jogged for exercise, she was capable of being nice and did love Buck, I believe). And as for it being fast? Sometimes it just be like that? A relationship doesn't have to have year(s) of buildup. Sometimes people do just meet, like each other, and start dating, in fact in the real world that's usually what happens. It's in TV Land that you have to have eighteen seasons of UST before pulling the trigger. Most of the time in reality people just vibe off each other and decide to go out and THEN they learn about each other.

And they've got a great start. You'd think they'd barely spoken by how a few naysayers are talking about it - the loft scene was like a solid five minutes of very open conversation, the Cringe Date seemed to have gone well and again, open and honest (if cringey) conversation before Cockblocker Eddie showed up, and the coffee meetup was again....open and honest conversation. They're not gonna show us long scenes of them exchanging firefighting stories and workout preferences (I mean, I'd watch that, but it's not what the show is about).

In conclusion, anyone saying he's poorly developed or the relationship is "out of nowhere" either is being willfully obtuse or has ridiculously unrealistic expectations for relationships and/or what constitutes character development.

As for whether they have chemistry, that's a matter of subjective opinion. Given that a TON of people watched that harbor tour scene (even when it was posted as a sneak peek) and started going "wait...what's going on here...are they flirting??" might be a clue. People were talking about Bi!Buck maybe happening with Tommy based solely off that clip of the harbor tour and what they were seeing between them. And imho that loft scene was crackling. But we all see things through the lenses of our biases, myself included.

Got that off my chest, whew.

#9-1-1 #evan buckley #bucktommy #911 #tevan #kinley #tommy kinard #9-1-1 meta #9-1-1 shipping #fandom discourse #firepilot #trying to use all the ship tags we have #buck x tommy

1K notes · View notes

sanjisblackasswife · 3 months

Note

Can u pleaseeee do a part 2 to the nanami cam girl fanfiction 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

Part 1 Of Nanami x Cam!Girl Reader Here

Blk!Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Pervert Nanami, Nanami with a voice kink, Idk. Smut fr w some plot.

“Sssshit, yes baby….” Nanami’s voice growled from the back of his throat, his legs beginning to rise as his body tenses for a moment. His groans echoed through his empty apartment, only thing luminating his room was the lights of the city and his phone in his hand.

He threw his head back to land on the headboard, mind feeling a little fuzzy. This orgasm definitely drained him way more than any this week.

Maybe because this particular video he was using to get off was his and only for him.

“I um…i hope that was good for you Mr. Nanami.” She spoke breathlessly holding up the camera above her face as she laid on the fluffy pillows on her bed, eyes were dilated, cheeks flushed despite her skin tone, strands of hair on her forehead. She must have overworked herself this time. She did cum more than usual, as requested of him. “I never came that much, I almost feel embarrassed i couldn’t last as long as I should of.”

“You did amazing, sweetheart.” Nanami thought as she began to ramble a bit….per requested. Her voice was almost the equivalent to an angel through his ears. So soft, feminine and gentle.

Almost the polar opposite of her whiney, loud, slutty voice when she moans his name.

“I never gotten a um…private suggestion and you’ve been…so sweet with your donations I actually was able to get a new camera for it so of course I had to show you!”

“I noticed.” He thought, a faint smirk arising on his face.

“As promised though please do not share this video or post on any other platforms. Please.”

Nanami clicked off the video to give a long sign of relief. Her voice was too cute;

“Please.”

His thoughts still going a mile a minute, “Maybe next time she can beg to cum for me.”

Shaking his head to clear some of his perverted ideas he got up to take a quick shower and put on some new sheets. He actually tired himself out tonight, but he still couldn’t completely fall asleep.

He was tired yes, but everytime he shut his eyes they fluttered back up.

Tossing and turning on his bed he reached for his phone again, maybe another rewatch?

The shame nanami felt watching the streamer was now completely gone, he only watched her anyways and something about her voice always helped him not only get off, but fall asleep.

He remembers hearing a very….perverted conversation with Geto and Gojo about listening to sexual audios when they are too sleepy to watch a video, but too awake to fall asleep.

…It was 7am and honestly Nanami tried to ignore it, but Gojo was so damn loud.

With a moment before reconsidering he reached for his airpods and phone off the dresser again and scrolled through her videos.

This one. This video where she first moaned his first name was soothing

….to him.

Laying on his back, gently allowing the weight of his lids to fall shut he turned up the volume of his phone and just listened to her.

He replayed the video so much he almost can invision what she was doing in the exact moment she was speaking.

Nanami had no intention to touch himself again, just to simply hear her, but how naive of him to think he can listen to the wet sounds of her cunt and her soft moans and NOT have a body reaction.

He felt himself get hard, palming his shaft he rubbed it through his boxers, face getting red from the lewd thoughts he imagined from the video.

Nanami invisioned him on top of her, throwing her pretty thick leg on his shoulder, kissing her ankle to distract her from the full feeling of his tip and a few inches of shaft pushing its way inside her. When she moaned Nanami’s name he imagined that’s exactly how she’d sound the moment he bottomed out.

Without noticing his hand was down his boxers moving his fist at the same pace she was fingering herself.

Nanami wasn’t the type to make A LOT of noise when hes self pleasuring. He’s more vocal when with a woman, but his thoughts almost felt like reality he started to speak to himself as if she was there.

“Goooood good girl, sweetheart. Keep your eyes on me…yesss fuck—-so good taking me in like this….”

He never really got off to just audio before, but somehow with his eyes shut he felt more sensitive and it wasn’t long until he felt close again, but he tried to hold on until til she was as well.

“C’mon baby…just like that cum with me. Yes fuck—-“

It probably would seem embarrassing to see such a big strong man whimpering in his bed alone at the thought of fucking a girl he doesn’t even know, but fuck it he did not care. It felt too good to him

It wasn’t too long until he made another mess. Sucking his teeth he just grumbled to himself knowing he needs to grab a towel, but before he does that, he moves over the table in his phone and clicks “New Message”.

While still coming down from his high, Nanami sends another $200 donation and private message to the pretty streamer stating;

“How much would it be for a private phone call?”

2K notes · View notes

aviawrites · 24 days

Text

when we were teenagers (challengers)

pairings/relationships: tashi duncan x sister!reader, patrick zweig x fem!reader, art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: Tashi Duncan’s younger sister, Ava Duncan, never gets a chance to be seen past her sister’s shadow. When Ava gets injured and Tashi starts gaining fame, the two become more and more at odds with each other. Tashi juggles Art and Patrick while Ava struggles to keep up. When over a decade passes and a peace isn’t reached, either the Donaldsons or Zweigs, either Tashi or Ava, has to come out on top. (7.2k)

a/n: you know the movie was good when you have to rewatch so you have all the info for the fic🥴 with that being said, the dates and stuff may be a little off but i did my best with what wikipedia had to offer. regardless, im a patrick zweig stan 4L. anyway, as always, ur interaction is greatly appreciated, ily<3

warnings: description of injury, allusions to sex/almost a smut scene, swearing

in this story, yn is: Ava Duncan

March 16, 2006 //📍home, 9:35pm

The goofy grin on the brunette’s face and the blond’s childish giggle replays over and over in your head. Your mother’s muffled snores mix with Art’s laughs as a smile grows on your face, your eyes closed.

You’ve found yourself in this position too many times, imagining what could’ve been if the cute guys were eyeing you rather than your sister. But you’ve experienced it enough times to not even be hurt by it anymore. No guys approach you at volleyball events, especially not hot ones. So if anything, you find some comfort in lying upside down on the corduroy couch making up scenarios in your head.

The click of the front door forces your eyes open, sitting upright and perking up like a dog as your sister tip toes through the door.

“So…” You rest your chin on your fist, “Which one was it?”

“Shh,” Tashi smiles, pointing to your mom’s closed door. “Which one was what?”

“Come on,” You continue as she stands in front of you, “Which one did you…Y’know.”

“Oh my- Neither of them, Ava.”

“What!?”

“Shh!”

You lower your tone, “Seriously? You were alone with them both and didn’t make a move?”

“It wasn’t like that.” She laughs, “They’re like…I dunno, they’re weird.”

You scrunch your face up, “What, are they gay?”

She pauses, cocking her head.

“They’re actually gay?”

“No, no they’re not.” She giggles, “I just didn’t do anything with them. I mean we kissed but that’s it.”

“Did you kiss the blond?” You interrogate, “I really like the blond…”

“His name is Art and I kissed them both.” She smirks.

You roll your eyes, “Whatever.”

Tashi laughs at you, plopping next to you on the couch and resting her legs across yours.

“They did ask for my number again.”

“What’d you tell them?” You stroke her leg.

“I said whoever wins the match tomorrow gets it.”

“God, I wish.” You sigh, throwing your head back. “I’d kill to see Art just one more time…”

———

May 15th, 2006 //📍home, 6:00pm

You wince as your mom tightens the brace, covering your face in frustration.

“It’s okay, baby.” She kisses your head, “You tell me if you need anything, okay?”

You nod as she presses one more kiss onto your hair before walking out, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Almost every athlete you know has been injured before, half of the girls on your team are covered in braces and tape all season. A torn ACL seems more like a right of passage than a serious and life changing injury. But when you heard the pop and felt the ligament rip, it was almost immediate; The realization that you very well may never play again. You’re not sure if yours was worse than others or if you’re just weaker, but the trauma of the blistering pain has turned you away from getting back on the court for the last month.

You already can tell who’s on the other side of the door from the lack of a knock. You internally sigh, wanting to be left alone, as Tashi sits at the foot of your bed.

“Hey, I was thinking we could go to the courts today. I could practice with you.”

“Tashi…”

“I know you haven’t been wanting to go but since you just hit a month I was thinking, you know, maybe you’d want to start working again.”

You shake your head, “Tashi, I don’t think I’m ready.”

“When will you be?” She asks, her voice stern.

You stare at her, “I don’t know, Tashi. Why?”

“I’m just saying Ava, it’s not good to stop for this long. Some people never get back out there and you have to at least try.”

“I am trying.” You raise your voice, “My insides tore apart. Sorry if I’m not eager to put pressure on myself again.”

“There’s no pressure I’m just asking you to get up and at least walk on a court again.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I’m fucking scared, Tashi!” You shout, tears falling from your eyes. “I’m fucking scared of it happening again! I am not ready!”

She stares at you, a look that you can only describe as disgust on her face.

“…You don’t even want to drive out there just to see-“

“Get out.” You cover your eyes, a headache creeping up on you.

“Ava, I’m not going to let you waste away in here-“

“Get out of my room or I’m calling mom.” You stare back at her, “Go.”

She stands, giving you one last look of disapproval before leaving, slighting slamming your door behind her.

———

September 18th, 2006 //📍Stanford Tennis Courts, 5:00pm

“Passing…Down the line…Cross…”

Tashi’s grunts echo throughout the court as you throw shots at her, a pile of green tennis balls forming behind you. It took a few weeks but she got you back on the court, just not the volleyball courts. You’ve watched Tashi’s practices long enough to know the game, so when you reluctantly offered to help her train, she jumped at the opportunity.

You zone out, robotically tossing the balls as Tashi dashes across the court. You silently hope for a specific someone show up. Patrick Zweig had your sister in his phone and occasionally in his bed, but Art Donaldson was a free man. The only Duncan in his phone was Ava, an achievement that you pride yourself on even weeks later.

Sure, the two of you aren’t a thing, not the way Tashi and Patrick are. But you’re happy to be anything with Art, so the talking stage that you seem to be stuck in doesn’t bother you at all. You can only pray that it’ll blossom into something. Something meaning you being Ava Donaldson in the near future.

As if you summoned him, a very familiar blond boy opens the wire door, locking eyes with you. Your heart skips a beat when he waves at you, your hand immediately dropping the ball and waving back.

Your sister turns around to see Art, a smile growing on her face as she walks over to him. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him in for a hug as you watch. They barely pull away before Tashi begins chatting, her face too close to his for your liking.

Across the court, they’re too far for you to hear their conversation. But judging from Art’s hand draped over her waist and her arm resting on his shoulder, you see enough to be angry. You can only look down, waiting for the conversation, along with your humiliation, to end.

After an abundance of giggles, Art turns and walks away, giving you another wave.

“I’ll see you.” He smiles.

You purse your lips, terribly embarrassed as you nod, “Yeah. Good seeing you, Art.”

The door shuts and with it, your smile drops. Tashi gets back into position like nothing happened, waiting with her racquet. Playing along, you throw her the ball. Only, you don’t call the drill. You throw with a little more force and much more unpredictability as the anger in you rises.

“Ava…” Tashi calls, frantically chasing the ball.

It’s only when the ball flies past her head, barely missing her, that she stops.

“Ava, what the fuck!?”

She walks toward you, meeting you at the net.

She shrugs, “What’s up, what’s going on?”

“Are you serious?”

She only looks at you, confused.

“Tashi, come on. You were literally all over him.”

“Wh- Art?” She deciphers, “Oh, Ava my bad I didn’t mean- I really didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, sure you didn’t.”

“Seriously, I didn’t. He’s my friend I was just saying hey.”

“Saying hey with your arms around each other? That’s bullshit, just say you still like him.” You look down, mumbling. “It’s fine, it’s just annoying that you go after every guy I like knowing they’ll choose you.”

“Hey…” Tashi softens her tone, stepping over the net and nearing you. “Ava.”

“What?” You look at the ground.

“I didn’t mean it like that…” She insists, “I’m just stressed with school and stuff, he’s the only one who gets it.”

“Right.” You roll your eyes, not in the mood for ‘I’m stressed,’ to be the excuse for going after your guy. “It’s not like I go to school too or anything.”

“No, I know you do. It’s just…Stanford’s different, you know?”

“Whatever.”

“Ava,” She lifts your chin to look at her, “I’m sorry, okay?”

The two of you ogle at each other as she waits for an answer. She always does this, almost forces you into accepting her apology which you do not.

“We good?” She asks.

“…Yeah, sure.” You shrug, pulling away from her, “It’s whatever.”

Tashi just looks at you once more, seemingly satisfied as she steps back over the net. She gets back into position as you pick up another ball, a look still on your face.

“Down the line.”

———

December 21st, 2006 //📍Stanford Dining Hall, 12:00pm

“How many?” The employee asks.

“Umm, can I have three?” You lean on the counter, “Or four, actually.”

She reaches under the counter before handing you four mayo packets.

“Thanks.”

You start the walk back toward the table, Patrick having picked the one in the far back. He clearly hasn’t returned from the bathroom as you see Art and Tashi still sitting alone. As you near them, you catch a glimpse of their conversation.

“Don’t you think you deserve it?” Art asks, his eyes so focused on your sister that he doesn’t see you walking up. “I mean, who wouldn’t be in love with you?”

Tashi doesn’t respond, only angrily stands and walks away, nearly knocking you over. She passes you, smoke practically coming out of her ears. You watch her go before sitting where she was, handing Art the packets.

“Thanks.” He smiles, “Patrick still in there?”

“I guess so.” You laugh, insecurity lacing your voice as you simultaneously try to decode the conversation they were having.

“I’m so not surprised.” He takes the bun off of his burger and tears open the white packet with his teeth.

You watch him, hesitant to speak. Though, your words spill out before you can stop them.

“Do you ever wish Patrick let you win the match?” You ask.

Art looks up at you, mid squeeze. He cracks an unsure smile.

“What kind of question is that?” He laughs.

“I don’t know,” You do the same, tragically self conscious. “Maybe you wonder what it’d be like to date my sister or something. I don’t know, it’s stupid.” You look down, fiddling with your fingers.

Art pauses, putting his burger down and placing his hands on yours.

“Hey,” He grabs your attention, “I’m here with you today.

You smile, “No, I know. It’s just…She’s like better than me in every way so I wouldn’t blame you.” You chuckle.

“What? I don’t think so, I think you’re great.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t get in to Stanford. Nor do I win all of the tennis tournament or-“

“Ava,” Art stops you, shaking your head. “You’re just as good as Tashi.”

Your eyes tread on each other as you try your hardest to believe him. But you do realize that this is the exact same way he looked at Tashi on the courts.

The two of you are snapped out of it as Patrick returns, taking his seat next to Art.

“Sorry, they had like no toilet paper.”

“Oh good, thanks for letting us all know you took a shit, bud.”

“Whatever. Ava doesn’t give a shit, right?”

“No,” You laugh, “You’re all good, Pat.”

———

📍Tashi’s dorm, 2:00pm

“So if he’s seeing other girls I won’t even fucking know now.” Tashi vents, stretching for her match.

You scroll on your phone, sitting at her desk. “It sounds like he was just trying to be nice, Tash. He was trying to help you out-“

“No, he’s not nice. Nothing about them is nice, Ava. They’re fucking weirdos, both of them. Art just hides behind this persona that he’s so caring and team Duncan when really he wants the same thing from me as Patrick.”

‘He wants the same thing from me.’

You sigh, tired of hearing the same things and watching her run back to them minutes later.

“Then stop complaining and fucking leave him already.”

Tashi stops in her lunge, “What?”

“You keep complaining about them.” You grunt, “If you really didn’t want the attention you’d just drop them both.”

“If I didn’t want the attention?”

“Yes.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” You say, irritated.

“Ava…” She stands up, looking down at you. You continue scrolling until your phone is snatched from you. “Hey.”

“What the-“

“Do you have something to say to me?”

“Give me my phone back.” You stand up, reaching for it.

“No, say what you mean.”

“Really?” You grab for your phone once more but she pulls it away from you like a child, “Fuck - Okay, Tashi, all you talk about is how hard your life is. How hard training is for a tournament that you know you're going to win. How hard it is dating a famous and touring athlete. How hard it is being friends with the nicest guy who only wants to help you. How fucking hard it is to have two guys fighting over you. How hard it is to go to an ivy league. How hard it is to live the fucking dream. How about you actually do something about it instead of rubbing it in our faces that you're above us and can play with two guys at once because you're so fucking amazing?"

The two of you stand nose to nose, a stance Tashi used to always initiate in order to intimidate you.

“How long have you felt this way?” She asks, her breath shaking.

“Ever since you became the Tashi Duncan and I was left in the dust. Now give me my phone.”

“Are you fucking serious, Ava? You think I asked for this?”

“Asked for what? A great life where you succeed in fucking everything? No, Tashi, you didn't have to ask for it. We worked so fucking hard and only you survived it. I succumbed to my fate, I quit my dream, I went to a shitty college, had shitty friends, watched shitty games, and watched the boys I liked fight for my sister. But no; Please, continue bitching about your hard situation."

You snatch your phone from her hands, walking toward the door. "Good luck at your fucking match."

———

2:45pm

You barely look up as you exit the library, occupied with connecting your earbuds to your phone. It’s only when you see a familiar black head of hair sitting in the common area that you stop.

“Patrick?”

He looks back, taking his feet off of the Stanford branded coffee table.

“Oh, hey Ava.” He makes space for you to sit beside him on the small loveseat. “How’s it goin’?”

“Good, um…” You put your stuff on the floor and sit next to him, “Why aren’t you at the tournament?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He smiles that same crooked smile from the night you met him.

You curl your legs up, leaving your arm on the back of the seat. “Did y’all fight too?”

Patrick leans back, looking over at you. “Yeah. Yeah, we did.” He laughs.

“What was yours about?” You pry, smiling.

“Uh,” He rubs his eye, “Just…not letting her control me. I’m my own boss kind of shit.”

“Seriously?”

“…Yeah, why?”

“That’s what our fight was about too!” You burst into giggles, “Well, not her controlling me but her controlling you. And Art, him too.”

“Shit, Art too?”

“Yeah, I mean, especially Art. You’re the only one who stands up to her bullshit.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, “I don’t know, you seem to put up a good fight.”

“Yeah, but I’m her sister. It’s takes a brave man to break free of Tashi Duncan.”

“Oh god, did I break free?”

“You definitely broke free.” The two of you laugh.

“No but I see what you’re saying, she definitely had me whipped.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like I remember one time,” He turns toward you, getting comfy, “The first time her and I, um…”

“Oh, Jesus.” You cover your face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He laughs, “But the first time we did, I remember she said she’d leave me if I told anyone. And I was head over heels, so of course I didn’t want to tell, right?”

“Right.”

“But Art’s my guy, y’know? So instead of being straight up and jeopardizing Tashi’s love, we made this stupid ass signal.” He tells in between laughs, “The way that Art serves - Like, you know how he puts the ball at the neck of his racquet?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You listen intently.

“Well, if I served that way, that meant yes, we did sleep together, And if I served my way, it meant we didn’t.”

“…And?”

“Well, I put that motherfucker right in the middle.”

“Oh my-“

You and Patrick erupt into laughs, covering your mouths as the librarian eyes the two of you. Your stomach starts to ache, not being able to remember the last time you had this kind of belly laugh.

“Well, cheers to breaking free of her.” You put your fist up.

“Oh hell yeah, cheers to that.” He bumps it.

———

3:05pm

The crowd outside thins out as you and Patrick head down the back halls and toward the parking lot. In true honor of breaking free, the two of you decided to not say goodbye. Instead, you’d go home without saying a word to your sister.

You’re a few doors down from the exit when Patrick stops in his tracks, looking into the nurses office.

“Tashi…” He walks in.

You enter the doorway, peeking in behind him. Inside, you see Tashi sitting on the table, Art by her side.

“No, out.” Your sister points.

“I’m sorry-“

“Get out!”

“Tashi, listen to me-“

“No, get out!”

“Please-“

“Patrick, get the fuck out!” Art shouts, standing.

Patrick stays for a moment, taken aback as he looks from Tashi to Art. If he has the same vision as you, it’s clear that it’s them against him. It’s no longer Patrick and Tashi, but Art and Tashi.

He looks back at you before obeying, walking down the hallway.

Now alone, you come into full view, nearing your sister.

“Tash, what happened-“

“You too.”

You stop, tilting your head. “What?”

“I don’t want you here, leave.”

“Wh- Are you serious?”

“Ava, I think you should just go.” Art says lowly, wary to step in between you too.

You ignore him, “Tashi, I’m your sister.”

You get no answer, she only looks forward. You look at Art as he stands over her like some bodyguard.

Just as Patrick did, you back away, realizing what this is. You frantically look between the two as you wait for Tashi to change her mind, to see that regardless of what fight you had you’re still sisters. Though, it’s clear that doesn’t mean anything to her, it’s been clear for a while now.

Now, it’s only Art and Tashi.

———

10:03pm

“Coming in from Stanford; Student and highly lauded tennis player, Tashi Duncan, took a hard hit at her match against Pepperdine this afternoon. Sources say a hard fracture to the knee has Tashi in the care of medical professionals. It is unknown if she’ll ever be able to play again.”

The blinding fluorescent lights of the cheap fast food place burn your eyes as you and Patrick look up at the TV.

You bury your head in your hands, groaning.

“Fuck.”

“She probably thinks she’ll never be able to play again.”

“Please, please don’t say that, Patrick. I’ll feel so guilty.”

“Ava, there’s nothing we could’ve done.”

“We could’ve at least showed up.” You rub a hand over your head.

“Hey,” He forces you to look at him, “None of this is our fault, okay? Injured or not, she still treated us like shit. Art only gets to stay by her side because he’s whipped.”

“I just…” You sigh, “I just wish I had been there.”

The two of you stand up, leaving the restaurant. Outside, a huge Adidas billboard with your sister’s face on it dominates the sky.

The two of you get into Patrick’s car, him cranking it up and turning down the radio.

“Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay.” He nods, looking at you.

“Like…” You think, “Your tour.”

“Oh, God.”

You laugh, “When are you set to go back?”

“Uh, next week I’m pretty sure. But if I’m being honest, I don’t even want to go. I’ve been getting my ass kicked out there.”

“Patrick, Tashi would lose it if she heard you say that.”

He leans in, resting his arms on the center console as he examines your face. “Let’s not talk about Tashi…”

“Okay,” You hold the intense eye contact that he began, “What do you want to talk about?”

His nose is almost touching yours as you unconsciously near him, eyes flickering from his eyes to his lips.

“Let’s talk about you.” He grins, rubbing your waist.

“What do you want to know?”

“Tell me what you like.” He says, lowering his lips to your neck and softly pressing.

“I, um,” You tilt, holding the back of his head as he gets sloppier, “I loved volleyball. My team was out of California but we travelled for tournaments. We ranked…fuck…we ranked second in the country-“

Patrick cuts you off, his lips ravaging yours as he runs his hands over you. You can’t stop yourself from leaning into him, crawling over to sit on his lap. Both of your hands get more and more heavy as he pulls your shirt over your head, tossing it in the backseat.

“Fuck,” You say in between kisses, “Fuck, wait.”

“What?” He looks up at you, “What, is something wrong?”

“Is this wrong to do?” You ask, out of breath. “Should we stop? What about Tashi and Art?”

“They yelled at us to leave when we tried to help.” He reminds you, “Why should we stop when they treated us like that?”

You look at him, convincing yourself that you’re considering it when all you want to feel is your mouth on his.

And you do, pushing the thoughts of Tashi and Art far from your mind.

———

February 15th, 2011 // 📍Zweig condo, 9:30am

5 years later

At one point in your life, it would take you multiple seconds to figure out how to say the dollar amount that you and your husband had in your bank account. Now, as the number almost falls short of five figures, you feel ashamed just looking at it.

You switch tabs on the laptop, the light from the ceiling to floor window behind it hurting your eyes. Scrolling through tournament options, the distances only get further and the prize money higher. Years ago, you and Patrick wouldn’t even consider the amount, as Patrick just wanted to play tennis; And that still holds true, only you’ve been stuck in your ways for so long that he’s forgotten how to play to win.

Nails scratch the hardwood behind you as your golden doodle, Bear, comes barreling down the hall. Right behind him is your husband, chasing the dog around the living room.

“I’m gonna getcha, I’m gonna getcha!” He says, the dog running desperately from him.

You chuckle, “Good morning.”

You hear Patrick give Bear a smooch before walking over to you, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“Good morning, baby.” He kisses your neck, looking at the screen. “Found anything good?”

“Not really,” You groan, frustrated. “I don’t know when these matches got so fucking far.”

“It’s okay,” He strokes your head, “I’m sure there’s one we can make it to.”

You continue scrolling, the qualifier maximum getting smaller and smaller.

“What about this one?” He points.

“Atlanta? Patrick, that’s on the other side of the country.”

“I know, I know. But we can make the trip, no? I hear some of our friends may be there.”

You turn your head, furrowing your brows at him. A sly smile plasters over his face, one that makes you realize all too quickly.

“They’re going to be there?”

He nods.

“God, why would you want to be anywhere near them?”

“We probably won’t even see them, baby. But if they’re there we’ll have a big crowd.”

You think on it, the thought of seeing Tashi making your stomach turn in knots.

“…And look at that winner’s reward money.” He says convincingly.

A sigh escapes you before clicking submit, Patrick’s entry automatically being sent.

“Mm,” He kisses your wedding ring finger, “Thank you, baby.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You jokingly roll your eyes, pecking him on the cheek.

——

February 24th, 2011 //📍Atlanta, 7:40pm

Nausea consumes you as Patrick’s smell fills your senses. The aroma of the city is one thing, the aroma of your husband another, but the scent of your sister’s old perfume radiates off of him like a cancer.

You watch as he sets his coat down, coming behind the couch to kiss you.

“Did you-“ You pull your face away, not able to let him touch you, “Did you see anyone we know?”

Patrick is taken aback, looking at you with a confused smile.

“No…Why?”

His eyes bore into yours as you search for any answer than the one you’re imagining. Though, as he hands you the chinese takeout bag and takes a seat next to you, you find yourself voiding the conclusion entirely; Your mind not willing to believe the man you love would be meeting her.

He wraps his arms around you, watching the TV. As the smell seems to corrupt every sense you have, a tear sneaks into your cheek, the possibility still piercing your gut. Even so, you wrap your arms back around him.

As of this moment, the comfort of hiding in his arms trumps the possibilities of the truth.

——

June 3rd, 2013 // 📍Zweig Condo, 3:00pm

2 Years Later

‘Hey, I know it’s been a while. But if you’re willing, I’d love to come out and see you and the baby. - A ♡’

The ‘Read’ under your message seems to taunt you the longer you stare. Your phone screen is interrupted by a call, ‘Mom,’ at the top of the screen. You answer.

A small gasp escapes you as you’re immediately met with the smallest human you’ve ever seen. You’d know she was Tashi’s in a sea of babies. You wave your husband over, eyes staying on the baby.

“Oh my goodness.” You whisper, “Hi, baby.”

Her eyes stay closed, her hands in small fists.

“Oh, Ava, she’s so beautiful.” Your mom lowly says down the phone.

“Is…” You wipe away a stray tear, “Is Tashi okay?”

The camera flips from the baby to your mother.

“You know you could always ask her yourself, honey.”

“No, I know. But- Just tell them we said congratulations. She’s precious.”

Your mom lets out a sigh as she looks from you to behind the camera.

“Mom, who is that?” You hear your sister’s voice in the background.

Your hands turn clammy, your heart beating faster and faster as she begins to turn the phone to Tashi.

“Um, Mom we gotta go, we’re breaking up. I love you-“

“Wait, Ava-“

“Love you, mom.” You spit out, hanging up and turning your phone face down.

You stare out for a minute, shocked at your body’s response to your sister’s voice. Sobs escape your mouth before you can stop them. You shove your face in your hands.

“Oh, baby.” Patrick holds you, rubbing your back.

“It’s been too long.” You cry, “She fucking hates me.”

“You don’t know that.” He reassures you, “She may come around. You did good.”

———

May 1st, 2019 // 📍New Rochelle, 10:00am

6 Years later

Making it to New York from home took up the rest of Patrick’s savings. The house that you downsized to is completely funded by you and your remote sales salary. Patrick continues to fight a losing battle with tennis, barely able to pay for food for himself every week. Straining your marriage was the last consequence of his money struggles. Though, it has the biggest impact on your day to day. Nonetheless, you remain by his side. In all honesty, you’re not completely sure how to continue anywhere else.

“I’m going to see Art today.” Patrick tells you, downing a handful of trail mix.

“Art?” You ask, holding Bear’s paws on your

thighs, “Why would you do that? It’s been years.”

“I think it’s been long enough, we’re already here.” He shrugs, “I think it might be good for me.”

You focus on Bear, still not seeing a clear reason as to why he’d want to speak to Art after a decade.

“Maybe you should go see Tashi.”

Your eyes snap to him, her name barely being spoken in your house for the last six years.

“…And do what?”

He shrugs, “Might be good for you…”

…

1:00pm

Your stomach seems to twist in a thousand ways as you continuously fix your hair and outfit on the way into the far too fancy hotel. As you pass the lobby, you almost turn around and throw up. But as your sister heads for the elevator, you know this is your one chance to speak to her.

Your shoes thump against the marble floor as you jog after her.

“T- Tashi!” You whisper shout, reaching her just in time.

She turns around. Taking one look at you, she looks to your left and right, utterly confused.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, tone laced with disgust.

It’s been so long. She looks so different, her voice has such a maturity to it. But that dominating energy that she brings everywhere hasn’t changed a bit.

“Well I…” You fumble, all of your practice going out the window. “ I heard you were here, I wanted to say hello.”

“Say hello?” She looks you up and down, turning her full attention to you as she steps forward. “Honestly, I don’t want your fucking hello, Ava. Really, I don’t.”

You shake your head, “Tashi-“

"I can't believe you have the balls to be here. After what you fucking did to me."

"What I-“ You compose yourself, remembering exactly how arguments with your sister always go. “Tashi, what the fuck did I do to you?"

"Are you serious?" She asks, "You're joking, yes?"

"No, I'm really not."

"You left me for 13 years by my fucking self." She raises her voice, "I had a wedding, I had a baby, and where were you? My sister was too stuck on a grudge to ever come back into my life, you're a waste of my fucking time." She begins to walk away.

“Hey.” You follow her, grabbing her arm and spinning her back around.

“Get off.”

"Not one of those events was I invited to, Tash. Not one. If you wanted me back, if you gave a shit, you would've acted like it. But you're not going to sit here and act like I was in the wrong and I should've reached out to you. Hell, I did fucking reach out to you.”

“In the wrong?” She snatches her arm from you. “Ava, are you clinically fucking stupid? You're hung up on a situation from 13 years ago-"

"No, but it's not from 13 years ago, Tashi.” You cut her off, getting in her face. “Because you're doing the same thing right now that you did when you were 18. You're sitting here blaming the world for your life decisions. You're blaming me for being angry that you were and are a narcissist who wants someone else to be the athlete that you never were. Every time I thought of coming back l'd imagine what my sister would say and I couldn't do it. But guess what Tashi, now I see through you. I fucking see it, Patrick sees it, and when Art finally opens his eyes you'll finally see yourself for what you are."

She stares at you, a chuckle escaping her. "Ava, this is pathetic. Genuinely. Because at the end of the day, it's not my fucking fault that you gave up. Now l'm in a position where I don't have to be here. I have a life, a pretty fucking good one, outside of this. Outside of you. This Final, it's practice. It's fucking child's play for us, whereas for the Zweigs...This is it for you. Your last fucking loss.”

“Yeah. Okay Tash.” You roll your eyes, "Keep throwing insults at me to distract from the fact that you're a shitty person."

"I'm a shitty pers- You fucking abandoned your family for 13 fucking years!"

"Because my sister is an insufferable egomaniac who can't accept the fact that her husband doesn't want to do this shit anymore and her tennis life is over!” You shout back, your voices echoing throughout the hotel. “It's fucking over Tashi, give it up. That's why I left you, because you're fucking dreadful! You're dreadful and everyone knows it."

Tashi slowly nods, the hotel staff looking at the two of you.

"...Ava, do you know what your husband does late at night?"

Your eyes widen, your heart skipping a beat as she addresses the unspoken.

"Fuck you." You spit.

"I'm really asking, because from what I experienced...You're a lucky woman."

Now you’re the one with disgust in your eyes, the urge to spit in her face stronger than ever before.

“…Say hi to mom for me, Tashi." You say, your hands balling into fists.

“Happy to.” She utters, walking toward the elevator. “Tell Patrick I’m wishing him good luck.”

…

3:00pm

You only tell your husband bits a pieces of your encounter, not daring to remind him of the man he was in Atlanta.

“I don’t even know why I tried.”

“Both of them are assholes.” He agrees, “At least now we’re sure of it.”

“I guess.” You bite your nails, stroking Bear’s ears. “Patrick you have to beat him in the Final. We can’t let them win.”

“I know, baby.” He nods, on your wavelength. “I know.”

——

May 4th, 2019 // Night Before the Final, 11:25pm

“Pat, it’s really coming down out there.” You look out of the hotel window, tarps flying into the street. “What if they cancel the match?”

“They’d never do that.” He watches the TV, “It should lighten up by morning.”

You hum, snuggling next to him as the bright screen flashes through an action sequence. Patrick’s phone vibrates, his phone brightness lighting the rest of the room.

“Oh, baby.” He shifts his body, making you sit up. “I gotta go.”

“Now? Why?” You try to look on his phone but he pulls it away, scrolling.

“I have to, um,” He rubs his head, looking stressed. “My racquet, I have to pick it up.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“They just messaged reminding me that we have to have this certain racquet to compete tomorrow.” He stands up, rushing toward the door.

“What- Patrick,” You follow him, “It’s like a fucking flash flood out there, can you not do this tomorrow?”

“Baby, they close at midnight, I gotta go,” He kisses you, “I love you.”

“Patrick, wait-“

“I love you, I have to go!” He shuts the door behind him.

…

12:30am

You have a strange urge to cry as you scroll through Art Donaldson’s instagram. Photos of him and his seemingly perfect family are plastered all over, an ‘@Tashidonaldson ♡’ at the top of his bio.

Patrick never wanted kids, said they’d cost too much and you couldn’t care for them. He was correct about the former, but care for children, you are willing and able to do. But when you married him, he did a lot of the decision making for you.

Now, as he’s blown all of your savings, lost his tennis touch, and been out of the damn hotel room for an hour doing god knows what , you wish you could shout at past you to get a grip.

Though, looking at these picture now, you wish you could do the same to past Art Donaldson too.

———

May 5th, 2019 // 📍New Rochelle Courts, 1:00pm

Final Day

The crowd’s heads robotically turned side to side as Art and Patrick dog it out in a vicious match. You sit in your assigned seat next to your sister, the endless stream of slander not ceasing, not even today.

“Is he retiring after this?” You ask, your head still going between the men.

Tashi shrugs, her expression hidden behind her sunglasses. “Maybe.”

"...I don't think Patrick will ever retire. I think tennis is all he has."

She hums, "If only he'd start winning his matches."

"He doesn't always play for the wins, Tashi."

"Yeah, he plays for the participation money."

"Maybe he does." You say, "At least he does it by choice."

She looks to you, her attention no longer on her husband’s tie breaker. "Art does it by choice."

“Like hell he does.” You scoff, “He wouldn't be retiring after becoming a Career Grand Slam if he wanted to be doing this.”

“Art is an adult, he does what he wants.” She looks back to the court.

“Art is your slave, he does what you want.”

Tashi continues trying to get to you. As Patrick sets for his next serve, he looks in your direction. Only, he isn’t looking at you, he’s looking at your sister. He returns his gaze to Art, placing his ball in the neck of his racquet.

Both you and Art freeze, staring at your husband. The men seem to be in their own world, but Patrick must’ve forgotten that you know too. The word seems to muffle around you as you stare at your husband’s evil grin at Art.

You stand on shaky legs, grasping your stomach as bile threatens to come up.

“Hey…” Tashi calls after you, “Ava, what the fuck are you doing?”

You run to the nearest exit, Patrick’s blatant disrespect and repulsiveness making you want to genuinely die where you stand.

It’s only as you stumble to your car that it truly hits you who the man you married really is, and how he really sees you.

Like everyone else, he thinks you’re a pawn in Tashi’s game. A piece that can be battered and bruised but will never go away, as it’s crucial to the game of Tashi. You want to vomit as you sit in your car, Patrick’s scent sending you into a violent sick.

———

May 14th, 2019 // 📍Zweig home, 12:00pm

9 Days Later

Three knocks at the door echo through your almost empty house. You pause your show, unlatching the chain and opening it.

Patrick stands in front of you, a hysterical attempt of a sad expression on his face.

“Everything’s here.” You walk him in, pointing to the boxes full of his stuff in the kitchen. “The only things that aren’t are your racquets, trophies, cups, stuff like that. Those are in the closet so they wouldn’t get mixed up.”

“Thanks.” He says, feeling like an alien in this house.

“Yeah.” You give him a thumbs up, returning to the couch next to Bear.

He spends an hour loudly moving his things from the kitchen to his car, the sound almost drowning out your show. Regardless, you stay put, wanting him to be done as fast as he can.

“Ava…” He calls over the reality TV. You ignore him, popping another veggie straw into your mouth.

Suddenly, his arm comes from behind you, grabbing the remote and muting it.

“Hey.” You turn around.

“I’m talking to you.”

“Okay, well I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Ava, I’m sorry-“

“Pat,” You chuckle, not being able to keep it in. “Don’t even.”

“Baby, listen to me, okay? I fucked up-“

“Patrick, Patrick!” You stand up, “Just stop, okay? Leave me be, finish getting your shit, and I’ll have the papers served to you by the end of the week.”

“Baby, no. Please.”

“Honey, there’s nothing you can say.” You shake your head, having prepared for his begging days ago. “Go beg to your mistress, yeah?”

He continues rambling, stumbling over his words. “Ava, it was such a bad mistake. I told myself it was strategy and- And because me and her have a complicated past I couldn’t see straight-“

“But nothing about us is complicated, right? We are married, we’re supposed to be a team. But you betrayed me, plain and simple.” You lay it out for him, “You’re a cheater and we’re done, now go.”

“It was a mistake-“

“Patrick…” You inhale, “I’m trying not to lose it, you need to get the fuck out.”

“Just hear me out-“

“Get out of the house, Patrick.”

“We can come back from this, Ava. We can.”

Your jaw hangs agape in genuine disbelief. He seems to notice he fucked up again as he stops speaking. You walk around the couch, getting in his face the same way Tashi used to get in yours.

“Patrick,” You begin, “I gave everything for you. I gave up my life, I gave up my family, I gave up Art, I left it all for you. I abandoned so much to be in your corner because I was in love with you, I really was. Whether you felt the same about me, I’ll never actually know-“

“I loved you, baby. I still love you-“

“But I thought you were the one who understood me, Patrick. But somehow every time I gave you a chance to correct yourself you threw it away to be with Tashi. Over and over. She’s constantly being picked over me, her feelings over mine, her body over mine, her opinion over mine…You’re just another one of her fans. You’re just like Art- Honestly, you’re fucking worse. At least he pretended to like me all those years ago. Now, as my husband, you just don’t give a shit. Just publicly showing that you slept with my sister.”

“…Why do you keep bringing up Art?” He looks down at you, “Do you- Do you feel something for him still?”

“Oh my fucking-“ You cover your face, composing yourself once again before continuing. “Pat, it’s been a long, long time since this all started. And if I could go back I’d change many things. But at the end of it all, I’m here because I worked for it and I endured it. You and Art can stay stuck under Tashi’s finger, that’s fine. But I know that life is bigger than that. Bigger than this weird threesome love triangle shit that you circle back to every few years. I am a grown woman who is in control of her own life so if you don’t have anymore comments, you need to get out and sign the papers when they’re served to you, Patrick.”

“…Baby, please,” He cries, his lip quivering. “You love me, we love each other. Please just think about it.”

You tilt your head, “Do you want me to be honest?”

Patrick nods, hiccuping on his tears.

“…All of this is really really beneath me.” You quietly tell him.

He lowers his head, his hands covering his eyes.

“When I was 18 I might have been broken over stuff like this but…” You shrug, “Things are very very different from when we were teenagers.”

#challengers #challengers fic #challengers imagine #challengers fanfic #art donaldson #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #art donaldson fic #patrick zweig fic #art donaldson challengers #patrick zweig challengers #challengers film #tashi duncan fic

506 notes · View notes

haveihitanerve · 14 days

Text

No but okay guys i want you to imagine Damian Al Ghul.

Little damian who is only ten years old. Who doesn't understand the concept of affection.

Who colors instead of watching a family favorite movie because he believes it is a sacred family tradition and he is not truly a part of the family, even though they picked this movie specifically so that he could watch it

Who watches Bruce laugh with Dick and Tim and feels resentment because he has never been looked at that way, even though Bruce tries

Who sees Duke and Cass look at him in concern when he gets injured on patrol and thinks its because they think hes weak, not because they care

Who has never once felt any ounce of love from his Grandfather for just existing

Who jumps when Dick tries to hug him

Who almost stabs Tim for grabbing him from behind for a little sibling cuddle

Who does end up punching Steph in the nose after she tousles his hair

Who tries so hard to fit in to this new environment he was unceremoniously dumped into by his mother and grandfather but who does not understand because these people are kind and laugh and seem to like him????

And Damian is confused and scared and on guard because everything comes at a price and it breaks Bruce’s heart every time he sees Damian straighten when he walks in the room, when he eyes Duke and Tim with suspicion, when he tries to hide injuries because he does not want to be seen as weak.

Just a Damian who is trying so hard and his family is too but hes still so scared and they don't know what to do….

Until Jason shows up. Bruce has been careful to keep the Red Hood away from Damian, to not shock the kid, not freak him out. And Jason is more than happy to stay away, even though it hurts him a little that Bruce just randomly cut off contact. But Bruce misses his son so he invites him for dinner, just the two of them at the manor, in one of the lesser eaten at dining rooms, and its good and easy and almost like old times…

When the door creaks open.

And Damian walks in.

And promptly freezes when he spots Bruce.

And then stares like a deer in headlights at Jason.

And Jason's spoon clatters to the floor.

And before Bruce can react Damian is sprinting across the room and Jason has thrown his chair back with the force of his standing up and suddenly his youngest his cradled in his second oldest sons arms, legs wrapped around his waist, head buried deeply in his neck. And it all clicks and Bruce scolds himself because how could he have been so stupid??? But its okay because jason is there now and Damian is no longer shaking and when Tim gives him an affectionate punch in the shoulder there is not murder in his eyes but an unfamiliar gleam and suddenly Tim is tackled in a hug and he stands there in shock for a second before relaxing, his arms wrapping around the kid and they rewatch the movie and hang up Damian's drawings and tousle his hair and its okay. Its not perfect, but its okay. And for the Batfamily, that is more than perfect.

#batfam #jason todd #damian wayne #batkids #damian is in a new environment #damian adapting to his new family #damian baby they just want to love you #bruce wayne #batman #batfamily

436 notes · View notes

siredtosturniolos · 24 days

Text

Wild Thots

Paring: Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: You’ve only been recently dating Matt, and you can’t help but rewatch one of his most famous TikToks, and when Matt notices the same sound on repeat he can’t help but get a little curious as to what you’re up to.

Warnings: None! (first pov)

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

So don't you worry 'bout them bitches I don't entertain them

Matt’s singing along to the lyrics in a blue shirt, headset over his ears. I bite my lip as my eyes glance around my screen, the TikTok audio repeating as it continues to play.

They only want me 'cause I'm famous

The way he subtly crosses his arms to show off his tattoos. His sexy little half smirk as he continues to sing along has my heart skipping a beat. He licks his lips making my thighs clench together, how the hell can this man be so fine? How the hell did I manage to bag him?

I'm A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie but just call me baby

The way he looks off camera and changes his facial expression has me biting my lip, I need to tell Matt to stream again. Matter of fact, I wanna hear him call me baby more, he just looks so pretty saying it.

And I be rollin' with the gangstas

The way his mouth curls as he says gangstas and his head slightly shakes, does me in. I must’ve been too lost in my trance because when I lock my phone and take a deep breath, I see Matt leaning against his door frame, that same sexy smirk on his face. My cheeks flush as I realize I had been caught, and quickly scramble to hide underneath his silk sheets.

“You don’t get to hide from me.” He laughs as he shuts the door behind him, before slowly walking towards the bed.

I let out a huff, “Leave me here to die in embarrassment.” I jokingly plead, before the covers are suddenly yanked from my grasp and Matt is grinning down at me.

“You gotta see what I filmed while I was at the warehouse.” He spoke, joining me on the bed. I shuffle to make more room for him, just to be dragged into his chest.

He opens TikTok on his own, and hits the profile at the bottom of the screen, then goes to his drafts. He clicks on the most recent one, and I hear the infamous song begin to play.

“Shut up.” I gasp, watching as he starts singing along. He’s got a slight stubble, his fluffy hair looks so grabable, and I nearly whine as he lifts the camera above him slightly and holds eye contact with it.

“Get away from me!” I whine, shoving him away. “I can’t handle this.” I continue, flopping onto my back as Matt is laughing. I cover my red cheeks with my hands and attempt to roll away from him, but he quickly flips our position. Now I’m resting on top of him, my legs on either side of his hips. He slightly sits up to lean against his headboard, then takes my hands off my face.

“I love that I have this effect on you.” He grins at me, placing kisses over my warm cheeks. I roll my eyes in response, settling for wrapping my hands around his neck, playing with his hair.

“I can’t help it.” I tell him, making him pull back to look at me lovingly, “You’re just too hot to handle.” I tease him, making him groan.

“That was corny.” He tells me, making me nod in agreement, “Doesn’t mean it isn’t true though.” I say with a slight laugh, as Matt pulls me in for a kiss.

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #sturniolo’s #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut

385 notes · View notes

vln-vibes · 1 year

Text

Amity Park; Clone City ?

It started with a video.

Tim had been scrolling through social media, as one did when procrastinating doing boring paperwork for Wayne Enterprises. He found himself going down the rabbit hole and somehow ended up going down the Unreality/ARG path.

He had to appreciate the dedication to bringing these stories together, some of the stories could actually happen given all the shit he'd seen in his hero career. Anyway this ended in him getting fed back to back Not Real videos. At least that was until he found The Video.

The caption on the screen was the first thing that popped up in front of the face of a latina teen who was trying not to laugh; Imagine getting wrecked by a twink

The camera flipped two buff guys wearing red and white Leatherman jackets, one was on the grass with his head tilted to the side and a basketball next to him, the blonde guy was looking at his friend with tears in his eyes before turning red and turning to the side and yelling out.

"You're dead Weston!"

"I said sorry!"

The camera then did a sharp turn to zoom in on a lanky ginger teen. It looked as though the blonde was about to go beat the shit out of the guy before the ground shook and the sky turned momentarily green.

"Ah shit, must be Skullker"

The audio began to glitch before the cameragirl began to run, the blonde could be seen carrying his companion, the ginger guy running besides them. A sudden cry came from behind as they could hear what seemed to be a girl trip.

"Star!"

The video started to glitch again and the camera fell from the girl's hand. As the girl picked up her phone the video showed that the ground where the blonde fell was now charred. When the girl panned to the side he could see that the ginger guy had tackled her.

"Are you guys okay?" her slightly accented voice could be heard with a weird echo, the ginger guy had his head back to the camera as he helped the girl up.

"Ugh Skullker's the worst, I still can't believe Ember dates him" the girl groaned. She looked up;

Kara?

"At least Phantom's already on it" the ginger guy turned around.

Wally?

The video ended and Tim found himself rewatching it over and over again--- There was no doubt that those two were Kara and Wally. Sure they looked younger but it was them.

There had to be more to this, was this really some sort of ARG? The explosions and the weird glitches, was that just all some part of a gimmick? Also why were there two younger versions of prominent heroes? Were they clones? Was Cadmus involved?

If it was clones then Cadmus was definitely involved.

He clicked on the girl's profile--- PaulinaxPhantom<3

Most of it was blank, not in a 'She doesn't really post much' sort of way, like her photos and video were whited off. He could see a sporadic picture and video here and there but they were divided by blank pictures that never loaded or video that crashed without ever showing anything.

He knew it had nothing to do with his connection so what the hell was going on. Could it be something with the site?

On a recent picture it was a selfie of herself with 'Star'/Kara with a link to 'Star's' profile.

Same thing as Paulina; pictures and videos surrounded by never loading and permanently whited out.

He checked the blonde jock's, Dash, and had the same result. Apparently the guy he’d been carrying was named Kwan—

Was that Garth? Sure he was a lot bulkier but he had an uncanny resemblance to the Atlantean.

Then he found 'Wally' again, or Wes apparently; Wally West and Wes Weston? It wasn't giving him much hope.

Wes was apparently part of Casper High's journalism club given his video about trying to meet the deadline and ranting about how annoying 'Boxie' had been, having trashed their clubroom and making them pick up after him.

"Stop complaining and actually pick up the slack Weston" a female voice spoke up from behind him.

"Yes, yes Chief Editor Manson"

Raven!?

Another video had him in a local food joint where the waitress was taking an order from a black haired customer, scowling as she noted the camera on her and flipped him off as the camera zoomed in on her, which was a dick move on the guy's part (as if service industry workers didn't have to deal with shit customers in the first place). The customer she was helping didn't even look back and also flipped him off.

"Get a life Weston"

Karen?

Oh holy hell bats! Was that Dick!?

Oh crap. Oh motherhecking heck!

This was bad.

Fumbling off of his bed and out of his room with a single drive to get to the Batcave, where he knew Bruce would be at the time and be able to assemble an Emergency Meeting with the League, he only had one thing in mind.

Why the hell would they hide clones in the middle of bumfuck Nowhere Illinois?

#dpxdc #dcxdp #Batpham #dp x dc crossover #Amity park is weird #They suspect secret clones #thats how the JL find out about the GIW #counterparts #danny fenton & dick grayson #Wes weston & wally west #Sam Manson & Raven #Tim is spiraling #Tim is panicking #Is everyone a clone???#Jazz fenton & Barbara gordan

2K notes · View notes

where-does-the-heart-lie · 1 year

Text

East Blue Crew modern au!

Ive been working on this on and off for a while now.

There’s a lot here so [rings dinner bell] come get y’all’s meal

ASL Modern Au Post

Grand Line Crew Modern Au

Friends We Made Along The way post

Friends We Made Along The Way Part 2 post

Additional Headcanons:

Nami needs her own episode on extreme couponers. Sis has an entire binder dedicated to it.

Zoro cannot for the life of him beat Luffy in an arm wrestling match. No matter how much he lifts or trains, he always loses.

Zoro is actually pretty good at grilling. Sanji was pleasantly surprised when the burger that was presented to him wasnt a pile of ash/ so raw its still walking around. One day the two will have a grill off.

Usopp and Luffy love playing yugioh with eachother. Neither of them actually know the rules of the game, they just make it up as they go.

Nami used to collect american girl dolls and she keeps them in a closet in her apartment. One day when usopp luffy and chopper were snooping around, they found the accursed closet and were scared shitless.

Usopp has an ant farm and luffy thinks its the coolest shit.

In this modern au, sanji takes the place of that one guy on tiktok who makes duets with cooking videos, and films until they put the entire block of cream cheese in the crock pot.

Sanji is also this guy

Even though nami has scary dog privilege when walking with zoro, its not just beneficial to her. In fact nami has outlawed zoro from going on walks in general alone, as he would get lost and need nami to walk to him to direct him home. Nami has scary dog privilege and zoro has sense of direction privilege when they walk together

Sanji and Nami rewatch Pretty Little Liars/ Gossip Girl/ Glee/ and other CW drama shows together.

Nami and Usopp always be shit talking someone/something. They are hateful bitches.

How luffy meets each of them:

Zoro- they met each other because the 24 hr gym Zoro works in is right down the street from Luffy’s apartment and one day Luffy was walking by at around 3 am and noticed Zoro in there. Luffy asks him if he wants to join him fucking around at 3 am on the streets of this city area they live in and Zoro accepts after a little convincing from Luffy. When they get outside Zoro’s like

“where’s the rest?”

“Of what?”

“Of your friends”

“Its just you rn”

“… :| i mean, i had assumed you werent alone”

“Nope!”

“HA OkAy”

Nami- they took the same economics course together. They were paired up in a project and hit it off after that and often had study sessions together. Their defining friendship maker though, was they teamed up to steal the answer key to the test they were both definitely going to fail because the class was bullshit.

Usopp- they had taken a graphic design course together. Luffy had no idea what he was doing the entire time and Usopp was very happy that he could impart his wisdom uponst this newcomer to the arts. Although luffy did already have some… incredible(?) art skills of his own already. It was instant chemistry for them honestly, their synergy just clicked and before they knew it, they were besties.

Sanji- works in the restaurant thats underneath the ASL brothers’ apartment complex. Their fist encounter with the restaurant was not of them going in to eat there, though. The trio were throwing around the ol’ pig skin in the street in front of their complex when luffy failed to catch the ball, and accidentally ricocheted it into the front window of the Baratie, through the eating area, over the counter, and into Mr. Zeff’s face. Zeff stormed out of the eatery and asked which of them destroyed his glass and hit him in the head

And luffy looks over and notices his brothers selling him out and is like “HEY!!! D:” So luffy was stationed as the place’s chore boy and met sanji while working there. 2 years later the debt was repayed, sanji and luffy are friends, and the Baratie is ASL’s fav eating place due to the great food, delightfully violent vibes, and great company.

thats all for now, hope you enjoyed!

#my art #one piece #one piece fan art #monkey d. luffy #headcanons #east blue crew #roronoa zoro #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #usopp #nami #one piece modern au #straw hat crew

3K notes · View notes

idyllic-ghost · 1 month

Text

title: To Choose A Mortal Life

pairing: Vernon x gn!reader

genre: fluff, comfort, established relationship

warnings: mentions of having a bad day

synopsis: you've just finished watching your favorite film trilogy, and Vernon has the nerve to insult your favorite character.

wordcount: 1k

taglist: @enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag, @d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @seunghancore, @woozixo, @niktwazny303, @lllucere, @uniq-tastic, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz, @cali-snow, @pearlygraysky, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang

rating: PG 13

a/n: yes, this is self-indulgent leave me alone. got this thought last night and had to write it out this morning, so this is for all of the nerds and vernon lovers who follow me

join my taglist

masterlists

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Vernon looked over at you as soon as the credits rolled, a content smile on his lips. You, on the other hand, were gripping the edge of the blanket like your life depended on it - tears staining your cheeks as you sniffled. Although he didn't mean to, Vernon couldn't help but laugh. It was quick, barely noticeable really, but you heard him. You whipped your head towards him with a glare that could kill a man.

"I'm sorry-"

"Why are you laughing?" you whined. "That was beautiful!"

Vernon let out another laugh as the tears came rolling down your cheeks again. The two of you hadn't been sitting far apart, but for the sake of your well-being, Vernon moved a little closer and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"Babe," he whispered, "you've already seen this movie... a lot."

"Because it's good! You think so too, right? Why aren't you crying?" you whaled, and Vernon couldn't help but laugh again.

"I've also seen it-"

You buried your face in your chest, and Vernon grinned as he wrapped his arms around your frame. His unwillingness to cry only made you more upset. It was cute, really. Then he saw a name on the credits that he recognized and something he had been trying to figure out clicked.

"Oh. Now I remember where I've seen him before," he said, referring to earlier in the movie where he had tried to figure out one of the actor's filmography from memory. "He's that guy in the second season of Stranger Things."

Your sniffles stopped, your body stopped quivering, and Vernon knew he had said something wrong. He let you go as you tried to get out of his grip, and when you looked at him you were met with a cheesy smile that screamed "Please forgive me!"

"Sam did not carry Frodo up Mount Doom to be known as 'that guy from Stranger Things!'" you exclaimed.

Vernon threw his head back with laughter as you tried your best to argue with him - it was impossible, he was laughing so hard that he could barely catch his breath let alone answer you. He had spent the majority of your rewatch of the Lord of the Rings trilogy trying to figure out where he had seen Sam before. It wasn't anything he had thought of before, so of course he wanted to know. You had asked him to not go on his phone, watching the movies was very serious for you - even if you frequently talked over the movie to explain certain things. That was allowed, of course. Vernon didn't complain, he enjoyed watching you be so enamored with a movie. He was just happy that you had finally started to relax after your hard day at work.

"I'm sorry," he said in between snickering. "I just saw the actor's name on the credits, I didn't mean to offend Sam."

You looked at him with a pout, your eyes still glossy from crying and the skin around them slightly puffy. You looked like a mess, but Vernon still thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on. His grin never faltered; eventually, it got you to break into a smile. You cuddled up next to him again, and he wrapped his arms around you. The credits kept rolling, but neither of you felt like moving to turn them off.

"I still don't understand why Arwen was dying," Vernon mumbled.

"She chose a mortal life," you murmured, "And since she was opposed to Sauron, she would've died if he got the ring back. They all would have."

Vernon nodded at your explanation. You were tired; he could tell from the way you yawned and the fact that you didn't go into a full-blown explanation of why Arwen was dying towards the end of the trilogy. He placed one of his hands on the top of your head, letting you take the other in your hands and play with his fingers.

"Would you choose a mortal life for me?" he asked.

"Yeah." You intertwined your fingers with his, looking at them as if you were studying the way his hand fit in yours. Usually, you would've teased him for asking such a question - called him lame, and maybe flicked his forehead, but not tonight.

"Even if I called Sam 'that actor from Stranger Things?'"

"You're pushing it." You looked up at him with a teasing grin. "But yeah."

"Thanks," he said with a grin that matched yours.

You pursed your lips at him, silently asking him for a kiss, and he obliged. It was short and chaste, almost just a peck. His lips were slightly chapped and tasted like salty popcorn, but you didn't care. When you pulled back from him, his eyes were still closed as if he was trying to savor the moment. You put your head back on his chest without saying a word, even though you had plenty of ideas on ways to tease him floating around in your mind.

"Do you want to go to bed?" he asked after some time of silence.

"Could we just stay here for a moment?" you asked. "I'm comfortable here."

"Sure."

Even though one of Vernon's legs was falling asleep, even though he actually needed to go to the bathroom, and even though he was so tired from watching Lord of the Rings for nine hours straight, he wasn't going to move. Because you were comfortable because you were relaxed. If you felt this safe with him, that you could yell at him for not respecting your favorite film character enough and that you could fall asleep in his arms just a moment later, he was going to do everything in his power to let you keep sleeping. Maybe he wasn't as brave or as good with a sword as Aragorn, but he still wanted to protect you at all costs. He wrapped his arms around you tightly. As cheesy as it was, he really would choose one lifetime with you over facing forever alone.

#svt #seventeen #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop writer #fanfic #svt fluff #vernon imagines #vernon chwe #vernon #vernon x you #vernon x reader #vernon x y/n #vernon scenarios #vernon fluff #bee buzzed εїз✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

237 notes · View notes

fairytsuk1 · 4 months

Text

mile high club | (smut)

pairing: alex quackity x reader

words: 1.9k

warnings: sexual content, surprise visit, riding, quickie, couch sex, mild femdom, mild sub!alex, unprotected sex, pre-established relationship

summary: "Sooo, What about Quackity dating someone who lives in a different country, and since both of them have been really busy they haven't seen each other in person in a couple months, so he decides to give his s/o a surprise visit?"

It was as normal of a day as ever. You’d woken up early and greeted Alex, who happily called you while you brushed your teeth and washed your face.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Good morning,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes, “what have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know,” he avoids the question, “just getting on with the day. You have your little morning voice right now, so cute, you know.”

Your laugh rings prettily into the phone as Alex blatantly flirts with you. He still made you feel like a teenager, all giddy with excitement and want. Plus, you miss him. It feels like eons ago that he would pull you closer to his chest mornings like these, firm arms snug around your waist as he curled around you like a mama bear. Your heart ached at the thought, even just sharing breakfast or coffee felt special.

“Well, whatever! I just woke up and gotta start my morning routine. But seriously, what are you up to? It sounds kinda noisy?”

The mild hustle and bustle cuts through the phone's static. It’s too muffled to hear anything, and you’re too sleep-addled to decipher it, “it’s nothing, baby. I’m just at the store. It’s crowded today, but I need some groceries.”

“Oh, right, Target?”

Alex pauses, “Yeeeah. I gotta go, honey, but I’ll talk to you later!”

Something feels off, but you swallow your worries.

“Yeah, we’ll talk later! I love you.”

“Te quiero mucho.”

There’s a quick click and then silence. Usually, Alex was more carefree with his thoughts. He had no problem freely expressing himself to you; he even told you that you were someone who made him feel like he could. But maybe you’re just being an overly attached girlfriend! You’re just thinking too hard about this. It’s probably fine, right?

You brush your teeth hastily with vigor, and you make record-breaking time on your skincare routine. The faster you get your day started, the bigger head start you have against those anxious thoughts.

It was an extreme relief when you received sporadic texts from Alex.

[lex <3]: what’s up babe??

[lex <3]: I’m thinking of youu

[lex <3]: te quiero verte pronto <3

It made your heart race and make you want to look bashful and hide underneath your lashes because he was so charming. You eagerly reply to him with a plentiful amount of hearts and kisses. Just knowing he was thinking of you made you feel good. It uplifted your day as you flicked on mascara and tied up your New Balances.

Things were average that day. The loud ringing doorbell broke you out of your TV rewatching reverie. You’re expecting some religious fanatics; damn, they could be so annoying. No packages you ordered that you knew of, no plans left forgotten, who could it be—

You’re absolutely taken aback. The breath in your lungs seemingly dissipates into the air, condensing into invisible wispy strands. What’s this? Alex stands before you with a bright smile. His jacket is black and puffy, and he’s got his striped beanie that turns beautiful wild locks of hair into a shape resembling an egg. It’s your boyfriend. He’s suddenly materialized on your doorstep with rolling luggage and smooth words, “Are you gonna invite me in?”

“Alex! Oh my god,” you fly into his arms, darting into them like the floor was a springboard, “this isn’t real. How are you here? This is insane!”

“I flew here; I had to see you,” he says earnestly, “I’m so fucking glad to see you.”

“I’m glad to see you, Lex!”

The two of you are locked in a cozy embrace. Your arms cradle Alex's head like he’s a baby, your baby, as you pepper soft, freckled skin with kisses. He tries to tell you to stop and tries to squirm away, but you aren’t letting go now that he’s here in your hands.

"You totally lied about the grocery store!"

"Come onn, I couldn't give away the surprise!"

Alex holds you by your waist and takes deep inhales in your neck. Something about your scent and knowing that you’re there in his arms makes him feel high. That makes him feel more than elated, indeed in a near-delirious state of love.

Both of you adjust to him being back. His luggage is left haphazardly in the bedroom while he kicks his shoes off to get comfortable. You can’t help but hang off of him and touch every single part of him as if this is a dream that could not be possible. He preens, feeling your hand smooth down the expanse of his back, covered with a fit Planet Duck t-shirt that made him look so delectable.

You were always attracted to Alex; there was no question about that. However, the combination of not having seen him for long, along with his freshly cut hair, was doing things to you. The experience of being in his space was sending your pussy into overdrive. Even the first shared kiss the two of you have leaves you wanting more as your clit quivers. Alex seems like none the wiser to your needs as the two of you settle down together.

“What do you wanna order, pizza?”

“Whatever you want, handsome,” and your nails scratch at his forearm just to feel his goosebumps prickle up.

“Handsome? Why thank you,” he smirked, giving you an Eskimo kiss. “Are you sure you don’t have a craving for anything?”

“I think… the only craving I have is you.”

“Wow, you must really want me to be begging like this,” he teases, bringing his face so close that his breath hits your lips, “what do you want?”

“I want my boyfriend, who I haven’t seen in months, to fuck the shit out of me. Think that can be arranged?”

“Absolutely,” Alex brings you into a kiss.

His hands weave into the hair at the back of your neck. When he brings you closer, the tension of the pull makes your jaw drop in a gasp. Alex takes advantage of your blatant thirst through your lips by slipping a slick tongue to toy with yours. He tastes like mints, and you fist your hand in his jacket with a crinkle. Both of you sway, shifting first to lean back before you press your lips against him harder and swing a leg over his wide legs.

It feels sweltering when the two of you pull away with panting breaths. You’re perched high in Alex's lap, and his hands possessively hold the curve of your ass. His lips are pink if slightly bitten, as they swell. You’re sure yours aren’t any better, but it hurts in the best way when you rejoin your lips together for another kiss.

“Extrañe tanto tu cuerpo, quiero comérmelo,” he rasps and rolls you further into his chest, further against his hardening cock.

His words leave you shivering as you roll your hips against him again.

“Wanna ride you first, I’ve missed your cock filling me up sooo much.”

Alex blushes at hearing your praise. Your hands caress his shoulders soothingly as he relaxes more on the couch, “I think about you all the time. Fisting my cock pretending it’s your pussy, fuckk, but it’s never the same.”

“My fingers never do it like yours do,” his sweatpants are expertly undone and tugged down.

“Oh, I know. I always make you feel good,” his hips lift as you lower his boxers to reveal the tan skin of his thick cock.

Your mouth instantly waters at the sight of him. His head is dark and weeping with pre-cum as it twitches in the cool air. Spitting on your hand, eye contact is captivating as you begin to work your hand up and down his cock. Your wrists twist, and Alex lets out a high-pitched moan, hand digging into the plush cushion of the couch. He only whines sweeter and pants heavier as your slick up his dick, working him up till he feels his balls churning with the need to release.

Alex whines when you let go, hands pawing at your waist to align your dripping hole with the head of his cock. His mouth is fast to latch onto your nipples or to lightly nibble at the soft skin of his tummy.

“Be patient,” you lightly chide.

“Can’t, need you too bad,” he moans as delicate fingers touch his cock, “I wanted to surprise you, so now you treat me.”

“What a demanding boy.”

“Ah! Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfuck,” your soaked pussy sinks down on his fat cock.

He’s not impossible to take, but the stretch still makes your stomach quiver after such a long time. It’s welcoming, though. Your pussy is carved to take Alex, to be fucked relentlessly by him as he makes your tongue loll out your mouth.

“God, fuck! I missed this so much, Lex,” your eyes are teary as you wetly rise and lower yourself on his dick, “making me feel so full.”

“You’re amazing, riding me so well. Hah, ah, you always make me feel good!”

You’re preening and crawling closer with faster hips as Alex wails for you. There are lewd smacking sounds that reverberate through the room as you fuck yourself on his dick. Things heated up so fast that everything felt as though the intensity of your fucking had been turned up to eleven.

His cock curves in your gummy walls. Every downstroke leads to the tip pressing against the spongy spot inside you; it makes your hips seize desperately as you pound yourself against Alex. He’s moved to lightly jerking his hips, mouth suckling on your tits and leaving gentle marks on your back. His nails are blunt, but the sting makes the coils inside you grow tighter and tighter with tension.

You feel so wet, wet, wet. Your walls are squeezing Alex, desperate for every single drop of release, and his orgasm is about to slap him in the face, “I-I’m getting close, oh shit. Babe, fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum inside me, Lex. I wanna feel it, breed me,” it comes out in a whine as you grow closer and closer to your peak, “gonna cum all over this cock, papi. Fuckkk, you own this pussy! Oh, oh!”

Alex cums first. His hot ropes fill you like warm lava, filling your pussy to the brim with his seed as he groans out from under you. He was at your mercy as you milked him through your orgasm, milky walls squeezing his dick for all it’s worth. Your thighs ache in the best way as you sink into his lap.

His cum leaks out of you lewdly around his softening cock. Both your eyes meet as you regain your breath. He looks a mess, and you know you do two as your sweaty bodies rest against each other. A flicker of fondness turns into a full-blown flame, “I-I love you. I missed you so much.”

“I love and miss you too, a ton,” he whispers, “and I’m glad I came to surprise you.”

You smile at him with watery eyes, “Yeah, me too.”

#quackity imagine #quackity scenario #quackity x reader #quackity x y/n #quackity x you #quackity fanfic #quackity smut #quackity thirst

292 notes · View notes