#because if someone takes time out of their day to let me know some piece of fiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

auncyen · 2 days

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I think the applicable warning here would be disordered/restrictive eating?

You haven't tried to weave yourself into a group in a long time. You forgot how tiring it is, more tiring than fighting the Sadness was actually. Mirabelle (sweet, like the plum), Isabeau (beau, nice--his smile is nice, and so is his laughter) and Odile (the dark swan? Hm... why does she have a Vaugardian name, anyway) have been very nice, grateful for your help in the earlier fight, and Odile didn't give you too hard a time over your vague travel plans. You think you'll be able to travel with them for a little while, while they're looking for these mystery orbs. You're happy...and at the same time, you are so, so, so tired. It's easier talking to new people in a big town or city: you keep things casual, you drift from talking with one stranger to another as you pick up cultural nuances. It's mortifying if you make a mistake, but it's okay, because you can scurry away and try again with someone else later. You can't do that with a small group. If you mess up with Mirabelle, Odile and Isabeau will know and hate you too. You have to show your best self always while they're watching. And you can't forget names, dummy.

It's. Exhausting. But worth it! They're so kind. And they actually want you around. You think? (Isabeau is definitely exaggerating when he goes on about how strong you were against the Sadness--any traveler needs to know how to deal with those?--but you're pleased he even wants to flatter you.)

But it is tiring, and by the time evening falls and they decide to eat dinner, you've started to believe they might like you, so you relax, and so of course you mess up, and you don't even realize until the "you're already eating more?"

The tone is surprised. Or is it offended? The Ka Buan is looking at you and the plate you're refilling with raised eyebrows. You. Stop. Nice and Plum are still working on their first plates, even if they're close to done. The Ka Buan--the dark swan, you idiot, you're already messing up without forgetting names!--is barely even halfway through hers.

You...finish bringing the piece of bread in your hand to your plate, because you already touched it and you can't remember any culture where it'd be more polite to put food back in a shared setting after you took it to eat. Then you sit back with your plate only partially refilled and try to smile, but not too much (some cultures don't smile as much as others and right now you can't remember if smiling's appropriate, everything you've ever learned about any culture is falling out of your torn net of a brain) to cover up your nerves. "Fighting that Sadness made me hungry!"

Nice laughs on the log where he's sitting. "It's a good way to work up an appetite!" he says, and the dark swan gives her soft scoff of a laugh and Plum looks up with the ghost of a smile and then everyone goes back to eating, so everything's fine. It's fine. It's fine. You...pick at the bread on your plate. Your nerves have ruined your appetite, but that's good. You don't want to be greedy.

You thought Ka Buans usually liked when people took seconds? Showing appreciation for the meal and all. But maybe you're remembering wrong, and even if you're not everyone has their own preferences that can be different from the majority and a woman from Ka Bue with a Vaugardian name (that you have forgotten. stupid) seems like she'd be unique. You look down at your plate and glance at hers occasionally as she and Nice start talking about their traveling plans for the next day. Plum occasionally chips in. You don't, because you don't really care and you don't want to let on that you can't even hold on to three names. You just chew on each bite of bread for as long as you can to keep something in your mouth.

The dark swan eats her food agonizingly slow. She doesn't take a second plate at all. Plum and Nice do, but that's probably okay since they helped get the food. You didn't. You're new, you're not part of this group yet and you probably never will be, but you want to try and that means you need to be on your Best Behavior Always. Don't be greedy, don't be selfish, don't take what you haven't earned, just shut up and listen so you can get their names again.

You do. Mirabelle and Isabeau and Odile. Plum and Nice and Dark Swan. Mirabelle is sweet but nervous, Isabeau smiles easily, and Odile doesn't like how greedy you are.

You go to sleep hungry. It's not hard. When you first started traveling, you'd have sleep for dinner more often than not. And you did have dinner. And you're going to see pleasant people in the morning. What more could you want?

(Your stomach tells you very loudly what it wants. You tell it to blinding shut up.)

Plum (Mirabelle, Mirabelle, Mirabelle) scrambles up a bunch of eggs to eat along with some leftovers for breakfast. She serves you a plate. It's enough. More than enough, it's generous. No one takes seconds, so obviously, one plate is enough. Your stomach is only whining for more because you're a glutton.

Isabeau takes a second sandwich at lunch. Mirabelle doesn't. Odile doesn't. You're too unsure if it'd be okay for you to ask for another or not (Isabeau is a big man, so it's almost expected for him to have a big appetite, but you're neither of those things), so you play it safe and don't.

You're tired by the time evening rolls around again. You always do forget how exhausting it is to try to fit in with a group (but it's worth it, worth it, worth it, it's so nice not to be alone). You look up at the stars for a bit to think of other things, but then your stomach starts grumbling. You sleep for a second dinner instead, and as soon as there's light you're awake and foraging for berries, peering closely at the fruits and the bushes they're on because you don't want to poison yourself even if you're starving. Isabeau gives you a curious look when you get back to the campsite, making you wonder if the slightly sticky juice you can feel around your lips is a noticeable shade, but he grins at you and gestures you to sit down for breakfast. You pace yourself, glad you're already partially filled on berries. Make each bite last.

...You feel like someone is watching you, but when you look up, Odile is reading, and Mirabelle and Isabeau are facing each other as they talk. You try not to look at their plates. You don't need to make yourself hungrier.

At lunch, Isabeau cuts his second sandwich in half--apparently he just finds the smaller halves nicer to hold? You don't really get it, but it's no skin off your back. In fact, it's a bit more food in your stomach, because Isabeau only finishes one half before deciding he's full, actually, and offering it to you. You're nodding before the question is even fully out of his mouth, which embarrasses you once you catch yourself, but Isabeau just smiles. His name really does suit him.

The sandwich tastes delicious. Good bread, a smooth and creamy cheese, satisfying meat and tasty herbs.

At dinner, Isabeau gestures for your plate as soon as it's empty, and you hand it over, surprised when he starts filling it. A small noise of surprise escapes you, and he chuckles nervously, pausing. "You looked like you were still hungry! You are hungry, right?"

You hesitate. You don't know if it's okay to say yes. You look at Odile, who raises an eyebrow back at you.

"What are you looking at me for? If you're hungry, then eat."

But, she doesn't like you being greedy.

...Does she think you're being greedy? You don't remember what she first said about you being greedy, now. Maybe it's not that you're taking too much? Maybe you were taking a specific food she likes--oh, no, Isabeau looks worried now. You're not answering him quickly enough! Even Mirabelle's watching now! You're failing mealtime.

It's usually polite in Vaugarde to accept an offer and thank them, so-- "Y, yeah! Thank you, Isabeau."

He resumes filling up your plate. Hooray. "No problem, Siffrin! Eat up, you can have as much as you want."

You laugh. You don't think he realizes how much you want. But he looks happier you accepted the offer, and you're certainly happy for the full plate heading back to you. Even Odile sounds pleased when she says, "you kids have such big appetites." It makes you pause a second, because you're definitely not a kid--did you give them your age (or the best guess you have for it)? you can't remember--but her tone is amused, warm. She doesn't mind. She doesn't mind!!!

You go to bed that night, still tired, but full and happier. Being part of a group is exhausting, but it's so worth it.

(Months later, you'll try to commiserate with Odile about how exhausting it is to become friends with people, because you love Nille, she's just as amazing as you'd expect of Bonnie's big sis, but you're so tired from making sure you don't mess up and make a mistake that you might be giving yourself a migraine, how do people do this, and Odile will look over at you and remind you that most people do not have social anxiety to the degree you do. You'll go and commiserate with Mirabelle instead.)

#in stars and time #siffrin #odile #isabeau

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anotherocean · 6 hours

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My first pick a pile reading for you all! Been wanting to do this for a long time and hopefully add a little sparkle to your day, some guidance, maybe reassurance (?), or just a little divination fun.

This is a general reading for your life at the moment. I used tarot and my intuition to come up with these readings. If you aren't familiar with how to do this, you just pick an image that pops out at you, or choose one quickly and randomly. Whatever method you want to use it usually works. Pile readings below! Let me know if anything resonated with you! This is my first time doing this so feedback is really nice :)

Hello my beautiful pile 1s! A lot of mental energy here!

My main piece of advice pile 1 is:

GIVE IN TO THE NOT KNOWING

Looks like you could use some support with that overactive mind of yours. First thing's first it's going to be okay. It looks like you've had some sleepless nights recently and something is keeping you awake at night in worry-- whatever you are going through is not easy and would test anyone's faith. This might be the result of feeling betrayed (or a misunderstanding for some) in some way, or perhaps you are even lowering yourself to a level that feels untrue to you. In any case your soul is saying no to a lot of ways you are perceiving your situation right now and urging you to take a step back. Your idealism may be pushing up against some cold hard facts … about a person? (never a fun feeling) and disillusionment of some sort might be setting in. Your desire to win or succeed or have your own way may be clouding the best avenue toward your genuine peace and fulfillment (I've been there honey, I feel you). I am getting the feeling you are going around and around in your head playing mental games. Tap into your honesty and your intuition. Don't sneak out the proverbial back door. Patience is required right now. You'll make it through I believe in you! Things are going to work out, but maybe it's time to rest and reflect a bit babe? I'm getting the sense that rest frightens you a bit. Either you feel you can't stop, or rest has become equated with stagnation in your mind. In this instance that is not the case. Rest is a terrific idea for you because this looks like something you need to wait out. On the upside, I'm seeing that for some of you there could be some wonderful feelings of inspiration or drive or something urging you forward. Perhaps there is a complex mix of your excitement for a new idea or project, and conflict between something going on in your life, so you are experiencing some push/pull dynamics that are causing a lot of uncomfortable mental energy. My advice is rest, tap into some inner strength, and give in to not knowing and what a truly beautiful and relieving feeling that can be. You can't possibly know, so don't! You don't need to figure everything all out at once honey, or solve this problem immediately.

Hello my incredible pile 2's! I love you.

You have an incredibly clear mind at the moment. You are approaching your situation with logic, which may feel a bit at odds with your needs to be nurtured. I'm getting maybe someone studying or pouring themselves into research but forgetting to take care of their more sensual needs like eating nice meals, going for walks, etc. In the distant or recent past you may have been in a limiting situation -- either victimized by some form of addiction, or bad relationship, or something that was bringing out parts of your shadow side that were not to your liking. This was something that you may have felt chained to... I'm getting your toxic ball and chain. That said, I'm seeing that you are harnessing a lot of energy positively right now, and will continue to do so. You have the power and ability to manifest your dreams, reach toward your goals, be the creator in your life. In the past you may have felt victimized and held captive by a person or situation, but you are now finding yourself (or about to be finding yourself) holding the power in your life. The world around you is aligned with you in presenting you with new opportunities for growth and love, and this is merely reflecting all the power you have right now. It seems you may be faced with an important decision, and while you are jumping and ready for new adventures, I ask you to also make sure you align your desire for adventure with your values related to the people and relationships in your life. You can do no wrong if you truly consult your heart in this important decision and take an honest look there by also allowing the people in your life to be included in that "gazing into the heart" that I mentioned. You are not an island, you are most definitely connected. You also have some doubts it looks like, or fears of separation or loss. The pain of heartbreak. A last word of advice is talk to someone you trust, perhaps a mentor, or consult your higher power for guidance. You may find resolution in aligning yourself with your traditions, or the traditions of people around you. I have to be honest pile 2, your picture isn't crystal clear for me, so I hope I filled in enough blanks to give this reading some value for you!

Pile 3 hello! So much beauty here.

It looks like there are so many beautiful things in your life right now. Wonderful relationships, some degree of emotional fulfillment, and periods of gorgeous and harmonious socializing and abundance are all present. There is a strong, positive emphasis on community, but you also need to nurture your individual creative expressions (be that something tangible like painting a picture, or something more related to using your creative abilities for manifestation, or maybe just... spending some time in the garden planting seeds). You need to see the fruits of your own labor (!!!). Also, let it be known that as soon as I began your reading and was looking at the above image I felt such a lightness! Wish I were you pile 3! Like a breath of fresh air. Life is good. You also want to create some more stability for yourself. Even with all the good things, you have your sights set on something better and what a beautiful thing that is! You might be itching for something new and exciting, even with all the good things going on in your life, and the main and BIG POWERFUL MESSAGE of this reading is to embrace change. You may have built up something gorgeous and fulfilling but your heart is looking for more. EMBRACE the radical changes. EMBRACE the tearing down of the good things. More good things will come. You may currently find yourself feeling influenced by some conservatism around you (not necessarily a bad thing), but the stable attitude of those around you may be at odds with your need to honor your enthusiasm for adventure and break down what you have in order to build up something new again. As I mentioned, what you've built is gorgeous, but perhaps it is time to tear it down? You have some fears and worries around this, so take this advice as lightly or deeply as you like. Whatever the case, the changes you want aren't going to be a lightning bolt. You need to put effort into long term planning with patience, and perseverance. You need to carefully nurture your efforts right now, more than you need to immediately start a new life.

=====

That's it! I had so much fun doing this, I hope you enjoyed it! It was fun getting a peak into some of your lives. At some point I may offer clarification card readings if any of you want to pay for additional info or extra questions related to the above readings. I'm not sure yet, just enjoying the experiment and maybe I'll do this with some regularity :) Also let me know if there's any specific reading you might like to see me do in the future! I have been so hardcore into astrology recently (truly obsession level) so tarot is a nice little sideline.

#pac reading #pick a pile #pick a card #tarot #intuitive reading #general reading #Pile 1 wound up being my reading 😭#it’s true though stagnation isn’t always rest #sometimes you can be busily stagnant

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keelt9 · 22 hours

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Chapter 4

Masterlist

It was the second time in a row my shoulder got stiff in the middle of a session.

“Ok, let's take a time out.” Anton has been really patient with me, still I know some exercises must already be a piece of cake.

“It’s all right Y/N these exercises are the toughest ones, we are in a good time.” Liam knows this drill is helping me with my mobility and my muscle strengthening, still the stability and control in my shoulder is trouble.

5 days ago, we went through a very sentimental moment. Grabbing a bow was part of my daily routine; after I got injured, seeing a bow was odd. The effort you need for you to tighten the bowstring is around 20-30 kg; after I get injured I barely can rotate my shoulder without feeling a crashing sensation. The adrenaline that was running all over my body along my heart rate faster formed a smile on my face.

After that day, all passed in a blink. I felt I open and close my eyes, suddenly; in a week the coaches will come.

“What about if you try now with an arrow?” Anton says, picking one of the arrows next to my stuff. Where was the part of taking it slow?

“We talked about it Y/N, you need to lose the fear and try again.” I move my head so I can observe Liam who keeps hiding at the back of Anton.

“Don’t look at me.” Liam laughs and walks to stand at my left, just a few centimeters from me so he can grab the bow; without the sling, which is what keeps connecting the bow with my hand, it always comes out so someone must grab it.

“Try it.” Anton closed my hand around the bow and nock the arrow.

I hear Liam in the middle of my faltering. “Steady, calm and breath.” I adopt the anchor position, I grip the bowstring and wait a second until my shoulder finds stability along my hand, in a blink the stiffness appears and disappears in seconds. When I get the right spot and my shoulder feels right, I let it go.

The electricity I feel as I hear the sound of the arrow pass through the bow is out of this world; my wrist remembers the followthrough movement, I end with a grind appearing in my face.

“Nice shot.” Anton claims watching the arrow hit the red circle. “8”

My picky side knew with these conditions; no strong air, or gust, I always get 9 and 10, not 8 close to 7.

“Yeah, well, I’ve done better.” Liam shakes his head as he disassembles the bow, still couldn’t hold his need of teasing me before leaving.

“Couldn’t agree more, you get me used to 10.” He giggles and pats my back. “I’ll take charge of this, take your time and go rest, that's enough for today.” He grabs all our stuff with Anton's help and leaves the room.

I start to take the tape out of my fingers; I always bandage my fingers even when I use the finger tab; it gives confidence knowing my fingers have a plus of protection, especially after not practicing for a little bit more than a year.

However that last like 2 seconds because after hearing the pop of the door I heard it one more time, just in these case someone crash with me, hugging me as soon as can reaches me, one hand at the back of my neck and the other in the middle of my back, leaving me breathless for the impact.

“That…That was out of this world!” I recognize his fragrance and the difference of height. Max came out of nowhere.

“Where do you come from?” I put my hands at his back, having him near calms me.

“I’ve been watching you from that window.” He turns around not to let me go, so I can see the window. “You've been amazing. I told you, didn't I?”

This time he let me go but still grabbed me by my arms softly.

“A hazy reference.” I joke with him making his tongue click, the silence that follows, give me time to do what in these past weeks it’s been a habit, let his blue eyes bring me harmony.

The sound of people talking outside gets me back to the moment. “What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Belgium?” I move softly so we can split.

“I am.” Max laughs and grabs his cap which I didn’t realize was laying on the floor. “Ok, I’ll be, I just have to make a quick stop…”

He stops talking, I move my head and encourage him to keep doing it. “For…”

“I need a recharge.” I furrow my eyebrows.

“Recharge?”

“I will spend 3 full days surrounded by the press, which sometimes drives me crazy, so I have to recharge… of soothing.” I’m lost.

“Where do you get that?” I ask him scoffing trying to put my hands on my waist, but he grabs one and helps me to take off the bandage of one of my fingers.

“Am I allowed to show you?” This is weird, still I assent and he bites his lip before kissing forehead. “Just being here.”

He didn’t know, but that soft peck left a burning sensation on me.

“Since when have you watched F1?” Liam scares me when I hear him at my back.

“Damn it! You scare me.” I turn my phone down. “It’s early, what are you doing here?”

Liam looks at me suspiciously. “The same as you. I want to arrive early.”

Even though I have made a big progress, from time to time basic movements, exercise or releases turn it pretty bad.

“I’ll help you with that.” He sees the brown tape over my lap.

“Yes, please.” Laim sits in front of me grabbing my hand and bandages my fingers.

“Are you going to tell me or I have to ask?” He calls for my attention who is already on the screen of my phone one more time.

“Hmm?” Liams shakes his head, still grabbing my hand but points to the T-shirt which is perking in my bag. “Oh, am, right, it's… It's a gift.” A quick answer.

“A strange shirt, watching F1, in the same city as the Red Bull Facilities.” Liams cuts the last piece of tape and sees right to my eyes. “Plus a cap in your apartment.”

“Liam…” He interrupts me, a kind smile on his face.

“Just…just don't create something that could hurt you. Don't let someone create something that could hurt you, ok?” Max won't do that, but I know I would do that to myself.

“We're here just for a while, in a few months we will be in home training for the competitions, all right?” I know he says that because is concerned and wants the best for me, still causing me an unpleasant sensation.

When we called a wrap, I grabbed my phone to see Max's answer. <Call anytime> He is now in Zandvoort and in three days he has his home race.

I'm not sure calling him knowing the press is surrounding him, and I’m feeling anxious is a good idea.

<Y/N! YOU ARE SO ANNOYING!> Mia's message makes me laugh, she is so convinced that I’m worried about nothing.

I stretch my shoulder, maybe I panic but these days I feel the sensation of stiffness coming back and not leaving. I did some stretches a couple of times until the stiff disappeared.

“Try to rest ok? I’ll pick you tomorrow morning.” Liam squeezed my left arm. “Everything is going to be fine.” I just press my lips together, faking a smile. “Night Y/N”

Late at night I took a quick shower and grabbed one of the ice bags and sat in the bed, hoping that my mind is playing tricks with my body. I grab my phone taking my time to answer all my messages. Mom and dad with supportive messages, the team wishing me success and Mia keeps bothering about my overthinking; finally I take my time to answer Max.

<I’m sorry I can’t be there.> He explains his useless attempts to get rid of work but he just gets the chance to leave after the race ends. I’ll expect that, still I feel a little bit down, it’ll be really helpful having him around.

My answer was cut for his video call.

“Hi, there!” He has his messy hair sign as he probably uses his cap all day. “Are you all right?” I forgot I have the ice bag over my shoulder.

I take it off, resting importance. “I am a little bit sore but I’m fine.” He knows I’ll keep talking and saying what's on my mind. “I feel like I’m gonna cry any minute.” I shake my head, letting all my fears and vulnerability show to him. “What if I fail? What if they don’t see what they want to see? If I fail I can’t picture my life another year watching, being a spectator.”

Max hears me all the time, his eyes express compassion and a lot of understatement even though he has probably never been in my place.

“I’m sorry, which was your last medal?” I scoff because he is always taking out; I got 2 of 3 gold medals in my last competition. “I’ve seen you working hard, all the effort you put on rehabilitation and with my, now deep compression about archery, Y/N you will get the green light, you won’t have to wait anymore. Let’s make a bet.”

I wipe the tears from my eyes and take a deep breath smiling at him.

“I’ll be there. When you shoot an arrow and hit the 10, I’ll be the first one from the terraces screaming at you, I told you.” I laugh, he lifts a weight off my shoulders.

“God, I wish you could be here.” I thought I said it to myself but apparently I said it out of loud.

“I wish to be there too.” His eyes shift to an angry mood, so I change the subject.

“How does it feel to be at home?” I sit with my cross leg, seeing him rolling his eyes and covering his face breathing out loudly.

“Fine but it will be better if I don’t have a reporter every 3 seconds close to me.” Max is an introverted guy even everybody though he likes the spotlight.

“Just a couple of days and you’ll be free…” He smiles at me with his sleepy eyes stuck to my face. “For gaming all day.” He laughs with me.

“Promise me one thing?” Max says his cellphone now in what seems to be the restroom, he points at me with his toothbrush. “You will take it with calm, breath and enjoy the day.”

My eyes are half closed now. I raise my pinky finger and swear it to him. “What cost them it was just one day?” Max keeps complaining about not being able to come.

“You be with me.” He rolls his eyes bluffing.

“How?” I stretched and grabbed the T-shirt at the border of my bed.

“Here.” I show it to him, pointing to the lion in the middle of the shirt. “You say it, a small you.” I feel my eyes close, still his giggles makes me smile.

“Sleep well Y/N.” I nod, burying my face in the shirt.

“Be safe.” I whisper to him, ending the call, the last thing I saw is his smiling eyes.

I get down my head tapping my finger on my shoulder silently praying the pain I feel is for my nerves instead of something going on.

Then the sound of voices increased until I could easily recognize the voice of Anton, Liam and 3 more voices, the main coach, Robert; the coach of the team, Marie Anne and a manager of the federation, Will. I stood quickly adjusting all the equipment all over me and taking a deep breath before the door opened.

“There is, a golden one.” Robert smiles and opens his arms causing Marie Anne to roll her eyes still smiling at me. “You look great.” He kisses both of my cheeks and Marie Anne follows him.

“Y/N, you look amazing.” She said taking time to look at me. “Let’s get started, all right?”

Each one of them took a seat in one of the chairs, Liam explains along with Anton as they point different parts of my shoulder, making emphasize in how great has been my rehabilitation and how optimistic they feel.

“What about you Y/N? Are you feeling well?” Robert asks me and takes notes in his hateful green notebook.

Behind the doors, the team and I gossip about that notebook is hell in the earth, he takes notes of each one of our training, competitions, advancements and injuries.

“Yes, I’m feeling great, stronger each day.” Marie Anne smiles and claps her hands.

“Let’s see.”

We walked to the back of the center where Anton arranged all the details to make it look closer as if I were in competition; as I walked down the corridors I felt eyes on me, whispers of curiosity of who were them and why I looked so scared.

I wore my classic black cap, with red lines at the side, and a small little fish at the back, clearly these caps Mia customized are for me.

“Take your time Y/N, remember it’s not a competition, just give us a good look for future decisions.” Marie Anne said, I know she tried to calm me but that wasn’t the words I expected.

I did some resistance exercises, shoulder strengthening; tests of coordination, flexibility and before the shooting tests I whisper at my bow and arrows before starting to get in anchor position. <Please, be nice to me.>

I draw the bow as I aim at the target looking for the perfect adjustment, not before I see the ground and smile, I can see the small lion on my chest. The arrow hits the red zone multiple times, in the final test of shooting just 2 times I reach the yellow zone, not good at all.

We kept talking for hours, Will barely said more than 3 sentences together, they explained their reasons to us and we to them, after 4 hours of intense thorough examination, they left as they came with a lot of noise surrounding them.

With shaking hands I dial the first name that comes to my mind. “Hey, am, could you help me with something?”

#fic #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #max verstappen imagine

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canisalbus · 1 month

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Have you seen black sails? I don't want to spoil it but I imagine the "they live" au being similar to a certain plot in that show. Bittersweet and you're not sure if it's really a *good* life but at least they're together.....

#I'm getting recommended a lot of pieces of media and I seriously need to get cracking with them #I hope you know that I keep track of this stuff pretty carefully #because if someone takes time out of their day to let me know some piece of fiction #reminds them of me/my characters/themes/interests #then I'm definitely going to give it a look #no I haven't watched Black Sails unfortunately #I watched an episode or two forever ago and I think I liked it alright #but I can't for the life of me remember why I didn't continue with it #most likely I was just in a bad headspace or overwhelmed at the time or something but I've been meaning to give it a second chance #coincidentally I liked the theme song so much I've been listening to it regularly all these years #partly because it prominently features one of my favorite rare instruments #hurdy-gurdy my beloved

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pucksandpower · 10 days

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Worlds Apart

Max Verstappen x Sargeant!Reader

Summary: everyone seems to have something to say about your relationship with Max, but at the end of the day all that matters is the two of you

Warnings: Jos Verstappen

Based on a request by @butterflyexe

The sorority house is pulsing with noise — music, laughter, the clink of plastic cups. You weave through the crowd, feeling very much out of place amongst the scantily clad co-eds. Your sundress and sandals seem prudish in comparison.

“Y/N! There you are!” Chelsea, your big sister in Kappa Alpha Theta, comes barreling over with a few of her friends in tow. “We were just talking about you.”

You eye them warily. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, like how you’re totally wasting your college experience pining over some old race car driver instead of playing the field.” Chelsea’s friend, Brittany, smirks as she takes a sip of her drink.

You bristle at that. “Max is not old! He’s only 26.”

“Exactly,” Chelsea says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “You’re a sophomore dating a whole ass man who’s nearly 30. It’s weird.”

“No it’s not!” You protest, shrugging off her arm. “We’ve been together over a year. I really like him.”

“Like him?” Brittany scoffs. “Wake up, Y/N. He’s an international celebrity dating a little college student. You’re just his side piece.”

The words hit like a slap to the face. “That’s not true!”

“Then why does he never post about you on social media?” Chelsea counters. “I follow him and you’re never on his accounts.”

“We just value our privacy,” you mumble, but her words have sown seeds of doubt.

Chelsea gives you a pitying look. “Honey, I’m just trying to watch out for you. There are so many great guys here on campus that would treat you right.”

Your eyes narrow at the dig. “You mean like those meathead frat bros that never shut up about their high school glory days? No thanks.”

The girls all gasp in mock offense. Brittany steps closer, using her height advantage to loom over you. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, talking about our men like that.”

“Yeah?” You stand your ground, hands on your hips. “Well maybe if they acted like men instead of immature little boys, I wouldn’t have to.”

A hush falls over the nearby crowd, all eyes on your confrontation. Brittany looks murderous until one of her sidekicks tugs her sleeve, murmuring “Let’s go, it’s not worth it.” She sneers at you one last time before stalking off, leaving you and Chelsea alone.

Your big sister sighs, rubbing her temples. “Why are you so hell-bent on making this hard on yourself, Y/N? Max is a world away, both physically and in terms of life experience. You could have any guy at this school eating out of the palm of your hand. Why not take advantage of that?”

Her words are salt in the wound. You blink back tears, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Because I love Max. He makes me incredibly happy. And yeah, the distance is hard and he’s older and more established in his career. But he’s kind and smart and we just … connect, you know? I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.”

Chelsea shakes her head pityingly. “I’m just trying to watch out for you. I’d hate to see you get your heart broken over some long-distance fling.”

“It’s not a fling!” You’re sick of trying to convince everyone. Pushing past her, you storm out of the suffocating house and into the cool night air. Gulping it down, you sink down onto the steps, chest heaving with anger and hurt and frustration.

Alone at last, you let the tears come. You know the doubts eating at you are unfair — Max has been nothing but devoted and caring throughout your relationship, even with his insanely busy schedule. But the fears voiced by Chelsea and her crew have burrowed under your skin. Maybe you are just a naive little plaything for him. Maybe he’ll eventually get bored and move on to someone more sophisticated and on his level.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket — a FaceTime call from the man in question himself. You fumble to answer it, swiping hastily at your damp cheeks. “H-Hey you.”

“There’s my gorgeous girl!” His bright smile fills the screen, momentarily banishing your worries. “I only have a few minutes before FP1, but I couldn’t wait to see that pretty face.”

You can’t help but return his warm grin, though it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “I miss you so much, Max.”

His brow furrows at your tone. “What’s wrong, liefje? You sound upset.”

You want to brush it off, but maybe this is your chance to finally get those nagging fears off your chest. “It’s just … things have been rough lately with the girls. They keep saying I’m wasting my time with you, that you’re going to leave me for someone else, that I’m just a naive little girl you’re using for fun.”

He’s silent for a long moment, then curses under his breath. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. That must be really hard to deal with, on top of the distance.”

“It is,” you admit, blinking back fresh tears. “And as much as I try to ignore them and have faith in us, their words have started to get to me. I mean … why don’t you ever post about me on social media? Do you not want the world to know about me?”

A shadow crosses his features. Clearly he’s heard this criticism before. “My reasons for keeping my relationships private have nothing to do with you, okay? I keep that part of my life off social media to avoid a media frenzy and protect the people I care about.” His expression softens. “But you better believe everyone important in my life knows about you — my family, my closest mates. Hell, the whole Red Bull garage is sick of hearing me go on and on about how amazing my girl is.”

You can’t help but laugh through your tears, some of the weight lifting off your chest. “Really?”

“Of course!” He chuckles. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. No matter how far apart we are or what anyone else says, you’re the only one I want.”

Your cheeks flush at his heart-melting words. In that moment, you don’t care about your snotty sorority sisters or the distance or anything else — just being completely in love with this amazing man. “I wish you were here,” you murmur, drinking in every detail of his face. “I miss holding you so damn much.”

Max’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Maybe you can show me how much later tonight, when we’re all alone to video call properly?”

You giggle and smack your hand over the camera, feeling suddenly shy. “Max Verstappen, you incorrigible flirt!”

“You love it.” His voice takes on a deeper, huskier tone that sends tingles down your spine. “And you’re going to love what I have planned for your next visit even more ...”

You spend the next few giddy minutes shamelessly flirting back and forth, soaking up precious moments of intimacy through the phone line to sustain you until you can be together again. When his race engineer appears in the background, beckoning him to the track, you’re both full of regretful sighs.

“Duty calls,” Max says wistfully. “But I’ll call you later, okay? We can pick up where we left off ...” He waggles his eyebrows mischievously.

You can’t stop your face-splitting grin. “I’ll be counting the minutes.”

“Bye schatje. Love you to the moon and back.”

“Love you too!” You clutch the phone to your chest after he disconnects, completely lovestruck. All your insecurities have melted away under the heat of Max’s devoted words and that heart-stopping smile.

It’s going to be okay.

He chose you — Y/N Sargeant, sophomore student, for all your flaws and relative immaturity. And you’ve never felt luckier.

Spirits lifted, you bound back into the house and upstairs to your bedroom. You’ll ignore Chelsea and her nasty friends for the rest of the night, instead losing yourself in daydreams of the next time you’ll be wrapped in Max’s strong arms.

Your relationship may be a long-distance whirlwind, but you’re all in and you’ve never been happier. Let the other sorority girls whisper — you’ve snagged yourself a keeper.

***

Max drains the last of his water bottle as he exits the Red Bull garage, sweat still beading on his brow from the qualifying session. He stretches his arms over his head with a satisfied groan — even after all these years in Formula 1, there’s no better feeling than pushing a car to its limits on the track.

“Max! A word, if you please.”

He cringes at the familiar bark, turning to find his father bearing down on him like a storm cloud. So much for basking in the post-qualifying glow. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Jos’ mouth presses into a grim line, eyes smoldering behind the lenses of his sunglasses. “Well, for one, I saw that interview of yours from yesterday making the rounds online.”

Max fights the urge to roll his eyes. Of course his old man would find something to criticize. “And? I thought it was pretty standard, nothing controversial.”

“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be controversial.” Jos sneers the word like a curse. “But dodging questions about your girlfriend and claiming you prefer to keep your private life private? It’s only going to stoke more media speculation and rumors.”

“Is that so bad?” Max counters. “I like to keep things out of the spotlight as much as I can. You know how ravenous the press is.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, son.” Jos steps closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous hiss. “I know exactly who this girl of yours is.”

Max feels his hackles rising at his dad’s dismissive tone when speaking about you. He opens his mouth to retort, but Jos barrels on.

“First it was that damn Kelly Piquet and her baggage, and now you’ve upgraded to jailbait? What is it with you and dating either old hags or naive teenagers, Max?”

“That’s enough!” Max snarls, feeling his face flush with anger. “How dare you talk about them like that, especially Y/N. She’s an incredible woman, and our age gap means nothing.”

Jos scoffs loudly. “Come off it, boy! She’s just a child, a nobody playing at being a WAG. You were born for greatness, bred to be a champion. Why on earth would you hitch your wagon to some college bimbo barely out of nappies?”

It’s like a red mist descends over Max’s vision at his father’s vile words about you. Before he can stop himself, his fist lashes out and connects squarely with Jos’ jawbone, sending the older man stumbling back.

“Don’t you ever speak about her that way again,” Max seethes, cradling his throbbing hand. “Y/N is ten times the person you’ll ever be. Smart, mature, driven as hell —she’s going to accomplish incredible things someday, whether you respect her or not.”

Jos regains his footing, clutching the blooming bruise on his cheek and glaring daggers at his son. “How dare you strike me, you ungrateful little shit! I gave you everything — the training, the opportunities, the sacrifices to get you to this level. And this is how you repay me?”

Max refuses to be baited, meeting his father’s glare with stony resolution. “Maybe if you didn’t insist on being such a hateful, miserable bastard all the time, I wouldn’t have to. All I want is for you to be civil and show some respect. Is that too much to ask?”

He huffs out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “But that’s not your way, is it? You’d rather condemn me for daring to find happiness with someone, just because she’s younger or doesn’t fit into your narrow ideas of what my life should look like. Well, I’ve got a newsflash for you. It’s my fucking life and I’ll live it however I damn well please.”

Jos opens his mouth, undoubtedly to fire off more vitriol, but Max cuts him off with a raised hand. He’s said his piece, expending the last of his energy and patience dealing with his father’s bullheadedness — at least for today. Right now, all he wants is to retreat somewhere quiet and let his thoughts drift across the ocean to you.

“Save it. I’m done arguing.” He turns on his heel and stalks away, Jos shouting insults at his retreating back.

Don’t react, don’t react. His jaw clenches almost painfully as he navigates the familiar path back to his driver’s room, typing out a quick message.

You free to chat soon, gorgeous? Need to hear your voice.

The reply comes almost instantly. For you, always. Give me 20 mins? ❤️

He can’t stop the surge of warmth at your words, the tension slowly draining from his shoulders. That’s his girl — always knowing exactly what he needs, even from thousands of miles away. And isn’t that what matters most of all?

After showering and changing into casual sweats and a t-shirt, Max sinks onto the small couch placed against the wall, pillows arranged just so to prop up his aching back and shoulders. He picks up his phone and dials your number, heart rate kicking up a notch in eager anticipation.

After what feels like an eternity but is surely only a few rings, your face fills the screen. You must have just gotten back from class — your hair is tousled and loose, your makeup-free skin flushed and glowing in the South Florida sun.

“Well hey there, handsome.” Your teasing smirk dissipates as you get a better look at him. “Max? Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

“I am now,” he manages, relief already washing over him at the simple sight of you. He drinks in every last detail like a man parched. “Just had a bit of a run-in with my dad and needed an escape.”

Concern flashes in your warm eyes. “Oh no, what happened?”

So he tells you — the interview rumors, his dad ambushing him and lobbing insults, the explosive fight that caused him to lose his cool and strike the first blow. You listen with sympathy, every encouraging nod and murmured reassurance calming his frazzled nerves until the story is spent, leaving him strangely at peace.

“Thank you for sharing all that with me, babe,” you say once he’s finished. Your voice is gentle but firm. “I’m sorry Jos was so out of line, but you were totally right to stand up to him. Nobody gets to dismiss our relationship or talk about you like that.”

Max blows out a long breath, raking a hand through his shower-damp hair. “I know, I just … I hate letting him get under my skin like that, you know? No matter how much I try to rise above it, he always finds a way to trigger something deep down. It’s exhausting constantly needing to defend myself and the people I care about.”

“But that’s not your burden to bear alone, Max.” You shake your head adamantly, jaw set in that stubborn way he loves. “Let me help shoulder that weight, even if I can’t actually be there physically yet. I’m on your team, remember? We’re partners. I’ve got your back.”

Your words loosen a knot of tension he didn’t realize he was carrying. Of course you get it, you always do. He knows in that moment how lucky he is to have found his teammate, his shelter in the storm that rages on no matter how successful he becomes.

“Have I told you lately how amazing you are?” His voice comes out low, thick with emotion. “How did I ever get so lucky?”

Your radiant smile could power entire cities. “By being you, silly. And for the record, your dad is way off base. There’s nothing wrong with you wanting a mature, driven, accomplished partner — even if she happens to be younger.”

“Age shaming goes both ways, apparently.”

“Apparently,” you agree wryly. “I had my own fun today ...”

As you launch into explaining the shenanigans that occurred during your morning lecture, Max feels himself relaxing further and further into the couch, a dopey grin spreading across his face. On and on the two of you go, playfully trading stories until his father and the endless pressures of his career have fully melted away, replaced by this perfect bubble the two of you inhabit.

When you hit a lull, stifling a yawn behind your hand, Max reluctantly decides to let you go for the night. “Do you have some time before your next class? You should get some rest.”

“Aw, I’m fine!” You protest through another jaw-cracking yawn. “I’m not done talking to my favorite driver yet.”

Max chuckles fondly. This stubborn streak of yours will be the death of him someday. “We both know that’s a lie. I can practically hear your bed calling your name for a nap from here.”

“Hmph, fine.” You stick out your full bottom lip in an exaggerated pout that makes his heart skip. “I guess if you insist on being all reasonable and stuff.”

“That’s me, a real fun-sucker.” He matches your playful tone, though his eyes are serious. “But before you go … can you just say it? For me?”

You immediately soften, gazing at him through the camera with so much tenderness, it almost winds him. “I love you, Max. More than anything.”

He exhales heavily, as if your words have physically lifted a weight from his shoulders. “I love you too, Y/N. And your love, your belief in me … it’s everything. Never doubt that, okay?”

“I won’t if you don’t,” you promise with a wink. “Good luck, babe. I’ll be dreaming of you.”

“Sweet dreams, liefje.”

Even after disconnecting the call, Max sits there for several long moments, staring at the now-dark screen with a besotted grin. His chest is pleasantly warm, full to bursting with the soul-deep reassurance that only you can provide.

Screw whatever toxic nonsense his dad tries to peddle about your age gap or his career. You’re the beating heart that sustains him, the sun around which his entire universe orbits. No disapproving authority figure or rumor mill gossip could ever change that fundamental truth.

So let his father rage and splutter all he wants about how “inappropriate” your relationship is. Max has tasted the extraordinary, found his home and partner in the most vibrant woman he’s ever met. All those lonely, empty years without that missing piece suddenly feel like a hazy, long-forgotten dream.

As Max sips his energy drink and prepares for another demanding few hours at the track, he can’t keep the dopey smile off his face. You’re worth enduring a thousand more shouting matches with his dad, worth traversing any distance just to hear your laugh again.

Max is the luckiest bastard alive to have earned your heart, and he’ll never take that gift for granted.

***

You shoulder your backpack and push through the double doors of the lecture hall, finally free from classes for the summer. The late afternoon sun bakes the quad in a warm glow as you pause for a moment, breathing in the sweet semi-tropical air.

For two years, this campus has been your entire world. Endless cycles of classes, parties, study sessions, and chaos with your sisters from Kappa Alpha Theta. But now, as you glance around at the laughing students basking in the first days of freedom, you feel a strange sense of restlessness settle over you.

Like there’s some place — somewhere — else you’re meant to be.

Shaking it off, you start heading for the student parking lot to meet up with Chelsea. You only make it a few steps before unusually loud cheers and shouts draw your attention to a small crowd forming near the front entrance.

Rows of parked cars block your view, but the distinctive growl of a high-performance engine cuts through the commotion. Your pulse instantly kicks up a notch as your mind puts it together.

That’s no ordinary car.

That’s a multimillion dollar, 800 horsepower British rocket. Sleek, powerful, luxuriously elegant.

Just like-

“No way ...” you breathe out, books slipping from your slackened grip as the glossy green bodywork of an Aston Martin DBS Superleggera slides into view. Because draped over the driver’s side door in that achingly familiar display of casual arrogance ...

“Max!” You shout his name in disbelieving joy even as your feet are carrying you toward him at a full sprint.

His head snaps up at the sound and your heart nearly stops at the way his whole face ignites with radiant delight. That brilliant smile you’ve ached to see in person for so long now stretching those full lips in the most heart-stoppingly beautiful way.

He pushes off from the car, hands outstretched, and in the space of a single frantic heartbeat you’ve flung yourself into his arms with a breathless laugh.

“What are you doing here?” You demand giddily as Max’s strong arms engulf you, swinging your frame around in a tight circle. You’re vaguely aware of the other students going nuts, people shouting and whistles piercing the air, but you only have eyes and ears for this incredible man holding you tightly.

Max just chuckles warmly, murmuring your name with raw affection before crashing his lips to yours in a scorching kiss that leaves you dizzy. You melt into the fierce embrace, parting your lips eagerly to taste the slight sweetness of Red Bull and dark chocolate that is so distinctly Max.

“Surprise, schatje,” he rumbles against your smiling mouth between heated, openmouthed kisses. “Thought I would swing by and pick up my favorite student myself.”

“Oh my god!” You laugh delightedly, cupping his chiseled jaw to drink in every perfectly imperfect inch of his beloved face. The strong jawline, the dimpled chin, those piercing blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he beams at you.

“When did you … how did you …” You’re at a loss for words, overcome with giddy euphoria at having Max here, warm and solid and real in your arms again after so many endless months.

A fresh wave of cheers and hollers suddenly cuts through your joyful bubble as half the crowd seems to recognize the celebrity in their midst. Dozens of camera phones whip out to capture the unexpectedly intimate reunion between you and Max.

“Who is that guy?”

“No way, that’s Max freaking Verstappen!”

“Y/N, how do you know Max Verstappen?”

The shouts and questions reach a fever pitch, finally breaking through your amorous fugue. Blushing furiously, you pull back just enough to murmur against Max’s chest.

“Well, much as I’d love to keep making out with my insanely hot boyfriend in the middle of campus, maybe we should take this somewhere a bit more private?”

Max gives a deep, rich laugh at that, the sound vibrating pleasantly against you.

“You are a wise woman, liefje,” he praises in that deliciously accented baritone. He presses one last, searing kiss to your smiling lips before reluctantly disentangling himself. “Though I would have thought you might like to give all your classmates one more delightful bit of inspiration to remember you by before you depart for the summer?”

He leers at you playfully as a chorus of whoops and whistles greets his flirtatious suggestion. You can’t help but bark out a laugh, shoving his chest lightly in mock admonishment even as heat rushes to your cheeks.

“You’re impossible!”

“No, just hopelessly in love with you,” he counters easily, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness in his voice and touch instantly gentles your teasing mood into something infinitely fonder.

This remarkable man, so genuine and caring beneath the roguish exterior cultivated for the cameras. You’re struck by a sudden lance of melancholy at the thought of how little the world really knows of the real Max Verstappen.

But then his eyes crinkle in that way that speaks of unabashed adoration just for you and the feeling passes. Because you know him better than anyone. And he sees you just the same. Two souls intertwined by a rare, precious understanding.

Max’s hand slides around to cup the back of your neck, his thumb brushing lightly over your thundering pulse point. The tender motion instantly sets your nerves alight with renewed longing.

“So,” his voice drops to an impossibly deep bedroom octave meant only for your ears. “Shall we give the good people at the University of Miami one last show before I whisk you away for a few months of long overdue privacy?”

There’s the barest hint of a filthy promise underlying the words. You swallow thickly, unconsciously pressing closer as Max’s velvet tones wash over you like a physical caress.

“And just where will you be taking me?” You manage to tease back, forcing a bravado your hammering heart doesn’t feel.

“Well ...” He leans in until his lips brush the delicate shell of your ear. You shiver helplessly at the heated puff of air ghosting your sensitive skin.

“First,” he begins in a heated murmur, “we’re going to swing by your sorority house to gather your belongings.”

“Okay ...” You nod faintly, hyper-aware of Max’s intoxicating proximity.

“Then I’ll be driving us straight to your parents’ place in Fort Lauderdale,” he continues lowly. “Per the strict instructions of one Logan Sargeant, of course.”

You can’t help the surprised laugh that bursts forth. Trust your brother to strong-arm his way into Max’s surprise plans.

“He didn’t give you too hard a time, did he?” You ask through your giggles. “I can only imagine the threats he must have ...”

You trail off at the feeling of Max’s talented mouth blazing a trail of kisses along the slender column of your throat. Every exploratory brush of his lips and insistent swipe of tongue steals the breath from your lungs.

“Max ...” You whine out his name without conscious thought, going pliant against the solid wall of his body.

“Shhh,” he rumbles against your overwrought senses. “Let me finish first.”

There’s a maddening pause where the only sounds are the rushing waves of cheers and chaos from the delighted crowd watching your every move, hungered gazes drinking in every scorching caress Max bestows upon you. Under any other circumstances, the thought of being so shamelessly devoured by hundreds of strangers’ eyes would have you recoiling in embarrassment.

But Max’s presence, his heated touch and low, sinful voice have you spellbound, uncaring of your audience.

“After we’ve satisfied your family’s demands to see us with their own eyes,” he purrs. “We’ll be boarding my jet bright and early for someplace much more ... pleasurable.”

Your skin prickles with delicious tension as Max continues in that low, rough whisper.

“We’ll spend a few lazy days lounging on a private beach in Aruba, just the two of us.” His large hand roves provocatively down the curve of your spine to boldly grip your backside, pulling your hips flush against the insistent bulge in his designer jeans. “Catching up on all the things I’ve been dreaming about for months, schatje.”

A tremulous whimper escapes your parted lips at the blatant promise underlying Max’s words. You flatten your palms against the firm planes of his chest, feeling his powerful heartbeat thundering in time with your own.

“A-And after that?” You somehow manage in a breathy rasp, scarcely daring to hope.

Max’s only response is a low, thrumming chuckle that you feel vibrate across your heated skin. His chin dips, molten blue eyes searing into yours with naked hunger.

“After that?” He husks, stealing the breath from your lungs with a devastating grin. “Well, then I’ll finally get to introduce the world to my favorite girl.”

And neither of you can wait.

2K notes · View notes

i-am-hungry-24-7 · 1 month

Text

[Hey, how are you?] Simon Riley*F!Reader

Ten years ago, Simon lost you due to his mistake, and he meets you again after these years of regret.

Hurt and comfort, Happy Ending

“Are you married?”

He always be asked when others see the ring on his finger.

“No.” He answers while taking another sip of his wine, letting the person realize it’s a topic they don’t have the authority to dig in.

He still remembers the vow he chanted as he put the ring on your finger.

The memory is as clear as the day you left the house, and he never saw you again.

It’s his fault, you didn’t shed many tears when he yelled at you, saying that you will never be able to free him from his nightmares, who do you think you are? a fucking philanthropist?

He knew he screwed up everything the moment his taunt escape his mouth.

No, No. I didn’t mean to say that, I need you, I love you, please don’t leave me.

He watched you lower your head, trying in vain to hide your sadness, but your heart was already shattered into pieces, by him, the man who promised to protect you by any means.

I’m sorry.

The words stuck in his throat when he looked at you stepping out the threshold with your belongings.

Please stay.

The greedy wish was buried inside his heart when you stopped for a second. “Bye, Simon. Take care.” you whispered, and disappeared into the aisle.

Ten years, he’s still unable to move on.

He brainwashes himself repeatedly, she will have a better life without you.

Yet he still opens his phone every time he finishes his therapy sessions, looks at your number, and just stares at the screen for minutes.

His thumb lingers on the “call” button but never dares to press it.

Hey, are you doing alright? I’m sorry, I want you back. I went to therapy after that day. I’m not the same person caged in his past anymore.

I miss you so much.

but how selfish he is if he interrupts your life now? Such a nice person like you deserves someone to cherish you nicely, and treasure you with their whole heart.

That’s why he now stands afar from you, watching you behind the veil of autumn’s breeze.

You’re still stunning, time doesn’t deprive your beauty even a bit.

He gazes at you for a long while, and when you turn around and spot him, it’s obvious that you’re in shock and come to a halt.

The world keeps moving, but the time seems frozen between you two, as you both set eyes on each other and never dart.

You head towards him as he starts hesitating to take the first move.

“Hey.” You look at him with a shallow grin on your face.

“Hey.” He mumbles.

The silence fills the air, but no awkwardness, he’s just too indulged in your presence, which he has been dreaming of for years.

Sorry for that day. How are you doing now? Have you married? Have a partner?...

He has too many things he wants to ask, but his thoughts are like matted wool, until his eyes land on the ring on your finger.

“You’re marrie—“ He questions without a second thought, but the words get cut off instantly due to his realization.

because the ring is paired with the one on his finger right now.

It’s not until you chuckle that he’s back to reality.

“Yes, I’m married, about ten years ago? to an idiot man.”

“Why did you marry him? he’s a bloody dork.”

“Good question. or maybe that’s the reason why I married him.” Shrugging, you then meet his gaze with a smile “How about you? Are you married?”

“Yeah, ten years ago, to a woman that’s too precious for me, so I lost her.”

“If you meet her again, what do you want to tell her?”

“I’ve improved. I’ve reached for help and now I’m not the same man anymore.”

“Anything else you want to say?”

“I miss her every single day, and I hope I can have her in my arms again.”

“Well, I don’t know about her.” you step closer to him. “But I’m sure she will love to have some tea with you as her first compensation from you, what do you think?”

He blinks at the hand you reach out at him, and slowly, he takes it into his palms, that’s befitting to drive away the chill.

Your hand fits well in his, like it’s made for him to serve it with all his warmth, and he’s sure that he will never let go of it again.

“My pleasure.”

a/n: lemme give Simon a fucking punch/j

#cod imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader

1K notes · View notes

eupheme · 2 months

Text

— into the fire

[series masterlist]

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 1.6k

Tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, pwp, restraints, sex for favors, rough oral (m rec.), 2 seconds of boot riding, flashbacks, sorta implied mutual pining, threatening with a gun, light degredation, spitting

a/n: please mind the tags! 💕 I heard him say ‘sweetheart’ (derogatory) and I was a goner. (Cooper is referred to as The Ghoul because I felt like he sure as hell wouldn’t have given Reader his name yet.)

“Been a long time since I’ve had mouth as sweet as yours.”

His tone then grows sharp, as the metal digs into your skin, “Don’t make me regret it.”

(Or - when you’re captured for a bounty, you make a deal.)

Your knees sink dig into the ground, with the downward gesture of his finger.

Eyes tracking the hand that now wraps around his belt buckle, then up to the tongue that traps between parted teeth.

No more than a week ago, he had lasso’d a rope around your throat. Bringing you to the ground - his weight of his hips pinning you solidly against the earth.

“There’s a bounty out for a Vaultie like you.,” The Ghoul had growled, as you bucked uselessly against him. “You know that?”

The days since were spent leashed by his side - almost like a pet, with the way he kept a handle on the rope twined tightly around your wrists.

Making you walk ahead, a sharp tug that sent you stumbling if you wandered too far.

All the while, you still felt that gaze that slipped over you.

Dipping with the zipper that had dragged down, pinched between fumbling fingers. Just wanting to feel the breeze against your skin - luxury you never had in the Vault. It lingered where the sweat beaded, nestled down in the shadow between your breasts.

If he needed permission to want you, you’d give it to him.

“You can use me,” You had told him - desperate, one night. “Whatever you want. Please, I can’t go back.”

“You best think twice about what you’re offerin’, sweetheart.” The Ghoul has rasped. A tilt of his head, as his eyes dragged over you.

You let them, your own eyes wandering as well. Across gaunt eyes and roughened skin, trying to piece together the man beneath.

Picking up on tiny things in the days that followed. Clinking spurs, his accent - akin to old programs they used to show back at your Vault. Hints that he’s been around a long, long time.

The Ghoul was terrifying in a way that thrilled you. You’d never seen someone move like he did, drawing faster than you could blink. A nightmare shrouded in a tattered leather coat, moving like a ghost.

He could rip your throat out with his bare teeth.

But he hadn’t.

You hadn’t had much to bargain with but you begin think even if you had caps - you might have ended up right here anyways.

But he hadn’t made a move to touch you.

Not until today, when your packaged water had run dry.

Until he saw the way you eyed him, envious. Another ten miles of desert road ahead, the sun following you from above and your throat growing drier with each one.

“You want some?” He asked, letting you watch the bead of water that rolled down his chin. “Then I think you know what you need to do, sweetheart.”

He’s collecting on your offer, now.

Adjusting himself, under the shadow of a crumbling building. Your thighs parting as you find your balance, fists pressing into uneven ground. The rope tied around fixed firmly under the heel of his boot, leaving you unable to use them in a manner you’d like.

The Ghoul’s hat shields his eyes, but he can’t hide the curve of his cock against his pants - the interested twitch, when he frees himself.

“Don’t get shy on me, now.” He clicks his tongue, fingers wrapped around the base, “This was your idea, after all.”

There’s a warmth pooling in your belly, as you shuffle closer. The part of your lips, the peek of your tongue against the tip.

It’s much like the rest of him. Pulled-tight pink skin, roughened and wrinkled divots. Velvety and warm, as you take him into your mouth and suck.

He swells, as your lips wrap around him. As he inches deeper, with the shallow bob of your head. Heavy against your tongue, it’s not long at all before he’s fully hard.

You try to take more, struggling with your limited balance, the full size of him. Teeth scraping against skin, when his hand twists in your hair.

There’s a ragged groan rattling in his throat - then there’s the cool press of a muzzle against your cheek, the low growling drawl of his voice.

“Been a long time since I’ve had mouth as sweet as yours.”

His tone then grows sharp, as the metal digs into your skin, “Don’t make me regret it.”

Your heartbeat thuds beneath your ribs. His message clear - fuck around, use your teeth on him, and you won’t live long enough to find out.

You don’t test him. His grip lingers, until you go loose. Eyes lifting to meet his, letting him guide you.

The tightness in him unknots as well, when you let him into your throat. A low grunt, risking a glance down to see how well you take him - an unconscious buck of his hips into your waiting mouth.

“Not even two weeks out and you’re already sucking cock,” He grits out, “So fucking eager to do it, too. You like ghouls sweetheart? Or just me?”

His voice rips into you, sending your nerves alight. He leaks against your tongue as you trace the rough skin, unable to help groaning.

“Fuck,” The Ghoul growls, “Just mine. Let me hear you say it.”

His grip loosens, pulling himself from you. Spit clinging from the head of his cock to your lips as you swallow. A hand pinching at your chin, forcing your face to stay tipped up to his as you answer.

“Just yours.”

“Good,” He thumbs at your chin until you open again, tongue waiting against your lip. Filling you slowly this time, until he’s nudging against the back of your throat. Tears prick at your eyes, as you try not to gag around him.

The slow saw of his hips picks up. It’s difficult without your hands - messy, with the way he uses you. Though there’s something about it that itches at you, deep inside.

Something that makes the tight Vault Suit feel even more constricting. More than aware of the dampness that pools between your thighs. How the sound of his groans, the tight tug of your hair in his fist makes you clench.

It’s has your thighs pressing together, as he fucks your mouth. A shift of your wrists so you can press the back of your hand against your center - easing some of the ache.

The pull of the rope beneath his boot has his eyes flicking further downwards. A cruel smile, when he sees.

“Getting off on this, sweetheart?”

You whine, and the smile widens.

“Filthy thing, aren’t you?” He drawls, with the shift of his thighs. The other boot knocks against your wrists to move them, before fitting it between your thighs. Nudging against your center, giving you something to grind against.

It’s not enough, but you both knew it wouldn’t be.

It would be too kind, otherwise. And he’s shown that he’s sure as hell not nice.

A tear tracks down your cheek with the steady roll of his hips, your nose brushing hot skin with each thrust.

Your eyes shut - mindless, a soft buzz in your throat as you moan around him. Focused on his breath, how it grows short and panting and ragged.

Until he’s pulling himself from you with a grunt, his fist wrapping around his length.

“Unzip, darlin’.” He growls, as he works himself, “As much as I’d love to fully use that pretty mouth of yours, I ain’t about to share my RadAway.”

It takes you a second to catch the zipper on your Vault Suit, dragging it down. From your sternum to your abdomen - revealing the worn, white cotton of your bra, the inches of smooth skin beneath.

A hand frees from his grip in your hair. Touching you again, yanking at your suit and bra until it bares the tight peaks of your nipples.

“Goddamn,” He growls, “Just look at you. Bet you’re nice and messy beneath that suit.”

Fingers cup the weight, before he’s pinching down. Eliciting a soft moan, as his eyes sweep across your face - soft and half-lidded as you watch him.

“Should’ve just fucked you. Would’ve taken me so well, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” You breathe - imagining it. Bent over one of the broken tables inside. His cock buried in your cunt instead of your mouth.

The moan he makes sounds feral - bitten back between clenched teeth. His other hand sliding to wrap around the back of your neck, holding you in place as his fist tightens.

“Look at me,” The Ghoul commands, and you do. Meeting his gaze with pupils that are blown wide, watching how pretty and ruined you look as he comes.

His groan is long and low as he spills across your cheek. The next against your lips, then chin. The jerk of his fist working himself empty across your breasts, until you’re marked thoroughly with him.

Smeared sticky against your skin, leaving you empty and aching as he admires his work. A whine when The Ghoul tucks himself away, his hat tipped down low again.

“Oh,” He mocks, “You think I forgot?”

For the briefest moment, you think he means to touch you. To ease your need - or offer something to clean yourself with - but instead he’s pulling the canteen from his bag.

“Open.” He commands, before he’s taking the last remaining pull.

The protest is caught, as his hand grips your cheeks. As your lips part, like he told you to.

His jaw rolls, pooling the water against his tongue. And with the dip of his head - he spits.

This time, you swallow.

Nothing more was said, after. A cut-up scrap of cloth from his pack, tossed at you. He still clings to your skin, beneath the suit.

But as you start traveling again - as a crop of building rise up along the horizon in the north, that you realize -

You’re pretty certain the path has changed.

ahh I just finished Fallout! What did you all think?? I loved it, and I can’t see what they do with Cooper’s arc in s2 (and of course everyone’s, I loved Lucy as well!) (And would love to know what you thought about this, as well! I have thoughts on a follow-up if there’s interest!) 💖

#he’s so MEAN I loved his character #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout smut #fallout series #fallout #amazon fallout

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drchucktingle · 5 months

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Chuck, how do you deal with people who are rude about you and your work? I write queer romance and I want to put my writing out there for people to read, but I'm a very sensitive person and I know it will be hard not to take insults personally and let them affect me. I don't want to let that stop me from expressing myself and sharing my art, but I'm scared!

very good question buckaroo. i am a good example of this as pretty much EVERYONE was rude about my work for many years calling it 'so bad its good' (it is just good) and 'terrible photoshop' (i think it has a great and instantly recognizable style) and 'intentionally stupid premises' (i dont think there is anything stupid about sex being fun and whimsical and playful). even these days the reaction of the VAST majority of buckaroos who discover chuck have this reaction AT FIRST, and then learn to appreciate the tingleverse in a more sincere way over time.

all that is to say BEING DOUBTED HAS WORKED OUT VERY WELL FOR ME. art that changes meaning over time can be very powerful, so if someones initial reaction to my trot is one thing and then it evolves into another thing, well that is just good art. while it can feel bad to get a bad review, i would say a bad review just means you have entered a realm of tension and change and discord and WE ARE TALKIN ABOUT ART BUD so that, in itself, is very exciting.

i think of what i do as 'punk writing', and a big part of that means pushing against preconceived sensibilities. not many other authors will proudly say 'there SHOULD be some spelling errors in my erotic shorts because i wrote it in a day and edited it once. that is the FEELING i want to create', but that is my way. by creating what is in my soul i KNOW i am going to bother some buckaroos and that is okay.

now i am NOT assuming you are also doing punk writing (that is okay of course we all have our own styles. what i am doing with tinglers is pretty rare), but it still stands to remember that there are 7.8 billion people on the planet of this dang timeline and some of them are bound to be bothered by your creations. that is not a problem, that is just part of baring your authentic self.

the other thing to remember is theres no REAL right or wrong in art. it can be analyzed in different ways and i tend to look at it in a way of comparing intention to result, but even THAT is not strictly correct. therefore any bad review of something you make is not actually BAD it is just someones information and feedback for you to take or leave. a one star review is just another opinion, it is no more right or wrong than your own opinion, and that is wonderful. it is freeing.

if i see a bad review of my own book, lets just say CAMP DAMASCUS for instance, i do not get upset because i know this: that reviewer is not wrong. camp damascus is five stars for me, but it is one star for someone else AND THAT IS OK. THAT IS THE WAY IT SHOULD BE. THAT IS GREAT ART. also MAYBE THEY KNOW BETTER THAN I DO. just because i wrote the book does not mean i am the authority on it, and the conversation and tension between those that enjoy something and those that despise it is a creative act. the audience engaging with your work is just your art emerging from its cocoon and saying 'here i am. lets see where i flutter off to now'

do not fear the river of this timeline sweeping away your creations and carrying them where it will. this is inevitable, but it is also beautiful and freeing. you cannot swim against it and that is okay bud, because YOU HAVE ALREADY WON. you have already created something and given a piece of yourself back to this timeline and that is a great honor and privilege. it is literally all there is

by creating ANYTHING you are proving love is real, and that is something to be proud of

#buckaroo lifestyle #art #creation #chuck tingle

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lady-ashfade · 1 year

Text

Jacket obsession

Spider-Verse: You leave a piece of clothing behind with a yandere.

Characters: Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, 42!Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Miguel O'Hara

Warnings: Obsession, stealing, yandere tendencies, just them going lovely over a piece of clothing.

Miles Morales:

Oh poor boy at first freaked out trying to get your attention before you enter the portal without your jacket.

“Wait! You’ll get colded.” He shouted as you entered the portal not hearing him.

After a few seconds after with worry in his chest he looked down at the clothing in hand and realized what he had. A piece of you that he could hold while he was away from you, and he hated being away from you, but the boys heart filled up with happiness.

The clothing smell just like you and if he threw it over a pillow it would be like cuddling with you. Boy is over the moon. And I mean like so giddy it’s embarrassingly cute.

He takes it every where with him, to the kitchen it’s in his hands, watching or playing games? It’s in his lap. He smells it constantly and gets really sad after a week when it doesn’t smell like you anymore.

However when you come back to his dimension and request for your jacket his heart breaks. Boy pouts security at the lose but he sees this as a way to get it to smell like you again and steal it after a while.

Overall if you leave anything he will take it and treasure it until you come back because now he has you for the time being.

He’s more of a clingy yandere but he still can’t help but obsessive over his darling.

“Maybe i could give you one of mine- Incase you lose yours again that is.”

Hobie Brown

Cocky little man notices it before you even want to leave and he knows you’ll forget it so he just lets you.

He loves when you leave things behind, thinks it might be a way of flirting. But when you do leave clothing he just feral about it.

Like he just can’t stop smelling it and just wants to hold it all day. He thinks of how cute you look in or how you smile and everything you do just flashes in his head.

Man is devilish to me. So he has a collection of things he steals from your bedroom when you’re out and he sneaks into your dimension. Clothes, shoes, necklaces or anything he can find.

You come back to him for it but he just holds it in his hands, above you and around the room when you try and take it way. “You mean this jacket?” Boy will have so much fun making you annoyed.

Hobie will leave his jacket on your room in hopes you’d wear it and think of him like he does you. He gets a grin when he thinks about it.

“If yah’ wanted to give me your jacket all yah’ had to do was say so.”

Gwen Stacy

You think she’s just chilling? Um no, she isn’t.

She loves you so much, her whole thing is like “I’ve lost to much.” And if she’s a yandere she can’t stop loving everything you do-Anyway.

She wears it and it can be oversized or maybe tight? She doesn’t care. She doesn’t take it off her body until it stops smelling like you or until she needs to get in her suit.

Gwen is maybe fighting with her self for many different reasons and they are:

“This is creepy.” “Oh cares? They smell so good.”

“They did this on purpose, so cute.” “No they just forgot it Gwen.”

Conflict with her own feelings all the time. But she never stops holding it close.

Gwen likes the idea of wearing your clothes to make it know she’s taken and that you’re hers. Can’t stop thinking of when you get to wear her clothes.

Yes, you guys aren’t “Dating” But your all hers.

“Don’t worry, I kept it so safe. By the way, could I borrow it again?”

Miguel O'Hara

Doesn’t care-Joking.

Miguel wouldn’t think about it at first and knows you just forget it and will come back for it later. But as time goes by, a hour, he can’t stopped looking at it for some reason.

He sneaks over like someone is watching him and picks it up. His mouth waters at the smell of you and he wouldn’t be able to let it go.

It might have rinkles on it from him carrying it so much. It’s his stress ball. You guys ever seen a kid carry around a blanket? Well that’s him.

He does feel wrong for obsessing over the piece of cloth but for different reasons then Gwen. He thinks he’s above something like this, doesn’t think it’s a big deal and he should forget it.

But when it puts it down a few seconds, it’s immediately in his hand again.

Yes, he does put it on a pillow and holds it close like he’s protecting you. He’s practically for when you get to be in his arms.

When you asked for it back he stands still for a minute. He feels sad and hates it because it’s just so stupid! Of course he gives you it back.

“I could give you one of mine…Only because that one doesn’t seem like it keeps you warm.”

42!Miles Morales

He’s a lot like Miguel in this situation a bit. And even if I see him as a big, big hard yandere he doesn’t think this is to big of a deal. Now don’t get me wrong he loves it, he just isn’t crazy as the rest of them.

Though, he does like to have it near him when he sleeps like have you close to him, or smell it whenever he can. Of course he has it in his lap when he’s gaming but the jacket never leaves his room.

Will buy the same one as you so you two can match and he can give you his. He thinks about you wearing something of his, like goes crazy just thinking of it.

You ask for it back? That’s cool, just try and get it from him. He loves to tease you to the ends of the earth and he would give it to you when you ask. But you’re just so cute when you get annoyed.

“If you wanted a jacket mami you could have asked for mine. Think mine would look cuter on you away.”

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whateveriwant · 6 months

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I know you already did the 141 boys when their wife gives birth (which was fantastic btw) but maybe if they missed the birth because of a mission or whatever else your brilliant mind can think of!

Don't give me compliments because then I'll follow you home like a cat and you'll never get rid of me 😖

Price

(This goes for all the men, really) but he's absolutely gutted to not be with you as you're giving birth

Honestly, if he had the choice, he would've rather lobbed off his own arm than miss such a momentous occasion in both your lives

It’s nothing less than the literal fate of the world that's keeping him from you, and he makes sure to reiterate that over and over again

The only thing that gives Price a bit of peace of mind when leaving you at a time like this is knowing you have a strong support system to help you through it

And boy oh boy does he put those friends and family members to use by having them constantly text him with every update imaginable

What time your water breaks, how far apart your contractions are, how much you've dilated, so on and so on. He wants to know it all

While he has to remain focused during the bulk of the mission, when he's able to, he's whipping out his phone to scroll through the literal hundreds of messages that await him

The updates are so plentiful and detailed that if he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend like he was right there beside you all along

And once he gets to the pictures of you holding your little one for the first time, well… he's not afraid to admit that he sheds a manly tear or two at the sight

Soap

He kicked up quite the storm at work when he realized he was going to be missing the birth of his child

He did everything in his power to try to get out of the mission – to try to get back to you – but, ultimately, he had no other choice than to go

But he's not just going to go gently into the night. No, he has a few tricks up his sleeve to make it as if he's still there with you in some capacity

Like Price, Soap takes comfort in leaving you with a huge support system to help while he's away

And also similarly, he's recruiting your loved ones (more so their phones) into letting him video chat with you whenever he gets the opportunity

(Does that mean he snuck his unauthorized smartphone into the middle of a battlefield? …. Yes. Yes, he did. .……....… Don't tell Price)

You'll be in the midst of a call with him and a bullet will fly right by his head and embed itself in the wall behind him

Of course, this has you incredibly concerned, worrying over how you're distracting him when he should be focused on his mission

But he assures you there's no need to fret, dear. He's perfectly safe and everything’s completely fine

(Oh, and just disregard that sound in the background, hun. No, it wasn't a bomb. Heavens, no! It was a… a… piano falling out a window)

Gaz

Even when he's away on mission during normal circumstances, he's calling home all the time to check in with you

But given your current state, now he's checking in twice as much as he usually does

Expect a minimum of three calls a day just to ensure things are still all hunky dory on your end

It's during one of these calls that your water breaks, and as you fly into a state of panic, forgetting everything you're supposed to do, Gaz has to calmly walk you through the steps of what you'd planned

He's able to talk you down and make sure you get yourself to the hospital in one piece, but then after that call, weirdly, you don't hear from him again

It's not until several hours later when you've already delivered your child that you're awoken by the feeling of someone beside your bed

You look to see who it is and it's none other than Gaz himself – still dressed in his full gear, covered in all sorts of dirt and grime, a hushed apology pouring from his mouth

He's so sorry he couldn't get there quick enough, beautiful. He left as soon as he could once he'd pulled a few strings with Price

But you don't even care about the excuse because you're quickly enveloping him in a hug. With tears in your eyes, you assure him it's alright. He's here now, and that's all that matters to you

Ghost

When he was informed he was being shipped off to a remote location less than a month before your due date, he was livid

No phone, no radio, no communication of any kind with the outside world and he was supposed to be okay with that? He very much wasn't

The higher-ups had to really hammer home the whole “safety of the world” thing to convince Ghost to go, and even when he did, he did so grudgingly

He finds that as he sits in this shoddy shack halfway across the planet from you, all he can do is keep a mental tally of everything he’s missing

Going with you to your final check ups, helping you pack your hospital bag, holding your hand as you begin to push, etc. etc. etc.

But what about things he might not know about? What if something's gone wrong while he's been away?

He can't let himself think on it too much because he'll end up putting his fist through the drywall, and he needs at least one good hand to hold his child with when he meets them for the first time

Seven weeks, four days, and nine hours after he shipped out, Ghost is on a plane back home

He doesn't stop to talk to anyone when he touches down at base (not even to report to his superiors). He just gets into his car and books it, not letting off the gas until he's parked outside your home again

And when he finally reaches the front door, an unexpected tremor passing through him as he grabs for the handle, he closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath, and walks inside, beginning the next chapter of his life

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solbaby7 · 4 months

Text

Still Your Best

pairing: azriel x reader

inspo: Still Your Best - Giveon

warnings: jealous azriel, some teasing, sexual tension, misogyny, this some toxic relationship shit so don’t expect the right decisions to be made here

summary: You’re trying to move on after years of pining over a certain Shadowsinger but he’s not ready to let go

—

Damien was—nice.

A little predictable but he tried to be a gentlemen; held open your doors and pulled out your chairs at every dinner. He remembered the little things, was a decent cook, clean enough and worked hard.

But, you didn’t feel the spark.

Even after weeks of planned lunches and candlelit dinners accompanied with fine wines and good conversation but you couldn’t see yourself falling in love—at least not yet; not without effort. It’s partially why you’d never brought him around the Inner Circle; slightly worried about making your private life public in fears that it was moving things along too soon.

Was it normal to invite someone you didn’t love to meet your family?

There’s not enough time to really figure it out, to work out the kinds and tie lose ends before Damien is asking to meet them. “You’ve met mine.”

It was true; his family was—nice. A kind enough mother and a father who wasn’t exactly present but he was a good provider and Damien insisted that even without his dad around much, he still had a good life. You don’t think much of it until you start noticing little things; condescending responses when you tell him you’re leaving to go train with Cassian. “Enjoy it—a wife of mine will be too busy with our children to be running about playing with swords.”

You bite your tongue, deeming it too soon in the relationship to give him a piece of your mind and falling into a placating role is anything but love inducing. “You’re entitled to your opinion. It’s awfully early to be talking about that sort of thing anyway.”

Damien shrugs it off, already bored with the conversation and moving onto another. “Either way, I’d still like to meet them—your family,” Your eye twitches at the way he says it; like just because it wasn’t by blood that it wasn’t something real. “Get to know the people who’ve been stealing you away from me all week.”

You comply with a strained smile, dread beginning to settle in when you bring it up to Rhysand a few days later. You downplay it, reiterating multiple times that it wasn’t obligatory in hopes that he and the other would be busy for now and the foreseeable future.

Of course, that’s not the case.

“Don’t be silly, we’d love to meet your new boyfriend.”

He doesn’t miss the way you cringe at the title. “Oh, that’s just—that’s just wonderful. Great.”

Your mood is no less sour three days later when you’re getting ready for said gathering, form stuffed in a little black dress you’d been saving for a special occasion and you figured now was a better time than ever. Plus, the confidence boost would help sooth the nerves that wouldn’t stop swarming beneath your skin.

“That’s a little short, Angel.”

You try not to roll your eyes at the pet name—soft and sweet and completely non-threatening. As if you hadn’t spent the entirety of your life beating your knuckles into the bones of men five times your size in a ring meant for close combat.

Still, your hands slide over the fabric, staring at your figure in the mirror when you murmur, “Not too bad though right? I thought it was really pretty.”

“Very pretty, just not for other eyes.” Damien gives you a small smile, warm palms cupping at your arms when he continues as if he’s doing you a favor. “I’ll let it slide though, just this once.”

“How generous.”

It takes everything in you not to scream when he makes a point to throw a long cardigan over his arm before you leave; trying to distract you by asking for a full run down of everyone and you’re quick to skip over the fact that maybe, once upon a time, you and Azriel were more than just friends. But the steaming, boiling anger subsides when you winnow him to the Night Court, his cheeks green as he struggled to keep his breakfast down.

Damien hated winnowing and for some reason that made you love it.

Even as you soothing rub his back, acutely aware of the eyes staring into your back from the entrance doors. Damien composes himself fairly quickly, sparing you a look when you’d promised he’d get used to it after a while. “It happens,” The High Lord of the Night Court greets, a friendly hand patting at Damien’s shoulder and you don’t miss the way Azriel’s eyes roll at the gesture. “Welcome, I’m Rhysand and this is my wife Feyre.”

Damien’s eyes go wide, making a move to bow to his knees but you stop him with a gentle smile. “I apologize, I’ve never really met a High Lord before.”

“He’s just Rhys right now,” You soothe, tugging him along to introduce him to the others and they can tell it’s a little overwhelming so you’re both quickly ushered to the sitting room. “The same Rhys who always splurges on the good shit—“ You cringe at the way Damien clears his throat, a brow raised at the profanity and you have to hide the burn of embarrassment for being checked in front of your friends. “Stuff. He always gets the good stuff.”

Nesta and Mor share a glance, watching you pour up a glass just for it to be swiftly snagged by your date who offers you one too but it’s significantly smaller. “Should take it slow, Angel. It’s not ladylike to get drunk when you’re being hosted.”

Your friends watch you nod with a tight smile, quietly thanking him for looking out before taking a slow sip.

Azriel scoffs in the corner, eyes rolling as he fills a glass of his own and your jaw clenched in response, an arm looping through Damien’s to show him around. You point at art you’ve seen a million times and nod every now and then when he runs off into a winded explanation of a vase he was sure was a prized possession but you were certain Rhys had gotten it from Mor as a gift three Winter Solstice’s ago.

Cassian wanders over, striking up casual conversation that you use as a chance to slip away, re-filling your glass much higher than respectable and took it back in one go with a glance over your shoulder. “Where’d you find this guy?”

“Do you actually care or are you being a prick?”

Rhysand lets out a laugh, hands tucked in his pockets as violet eyes scan the room. “Are you even allowed to say that word?”

You scoff, a hand swatting at his arm but you can’t smack away the embarrassment that appears. “This is exactly why I didn’t want you guys to meet him.” You lower your voice, fingers toying with the stitching on your dress. “We’ve only been seeing each other a few months. I didnt have enough time to—“

“To dump him before we found out about him?”

A pause, your lips purse and your fingers twitch for something stronger than whatever had been filling the decanter. “Fuck off, Rhys. Not everyone gets to have a fairytale ending like you do.”

His voice is softer, more careful and it takes effort to even hear what he’s saying. “Why don’t you just talk to him? I know you’ve seen him brooding in the corners.”

“Azriel made himself perfectly clear,” You hiss, no longer caring who saw when you reached out to grab a whole bottle of wine and all out ripped the cork free. “He can brood in the corners for the rest of our lives for all I care.”

Your form radiates agitation, positivity seething over a nearly overflowing glass before taking hefty gulps to quench the rage but it only seems to fuel it. Taking you back to that night, the cool breeze sifting through a dragging duvet while standing on the balcony with Az. You could still feel the afterglow, body radiating perfect health and contentment when he finally faces you, a grimace on strong features. “I think I have feelings for Elain.”

It hadn’t even amounted to much, grazing fingers and hushed conversations; strolls in the garden and hours hunched over a table putting together puzzles.

But Elain didn’t want more, barely grasping at the strings of her life as she knew it and more anger burns when you’re robbed of the ability to enjoy it. Enjoy him being hurt a fraction of the amount you’d been but the feeling never comes, just breathtakingly aching love—the need to hold and cradle him close and make promises you weren’t positive you’d be able to keep. “I’m sorry,” Rhys rests a hand on your shoulder but you’re quick to shift away from it.

“Forget it, can we just hurry this night along?”

He nods stiffly, lips pursed at your agitation but it doesn’t stop him from swiftly blocking you from sight when Damien begins walking over, offering enough time for you to finish your glass and ditch the bottle. “Anyone hungry?”

Nesta grins beside her mate, a knowing look in her eye when she sits down, tugging Cassian along with her and it takes a moment too long to realize that she’d directed every seat be filled—except the one before you. Teeth grind against each other when the shadowsinger sits down, chair creaking against the hardwood as he scoots in until you felt the tips of his shoes against your own. “Absolutely ravenous.”

Azriel doesn’t play nice, smirking to himself over his mashed potatoes when those familiar shadows creep under the table, licking up your ankles and leaving goosebumps in their wake. You tense, grip slipping on your fork and Damien raises a questioning brow. “You okay?”

You refrain from looking at the dark haired man across from you and force a smile. “Perfect,” You lean in for a kiss, lips millimeters away when Damien’s head turns to the side, choking on nothing but air. It passes rather quickly but your hands curl into fists under the table, swatting away the shadows curling around your knees, teasing at your thighs.

“Damien, do tell us how you two met?”

Mor doesn’t acknowledge your grateful stare but you’re certain she’d noticed it, biding you just enough time to swiftly throw Azriel a look that could kill—but it only seems to spur him on further. “I ran into her in the city, asked her out to apologize.”

“Clumsy, are you?”

Az doesn’t even acknowledge your heels stomping at his foot, smirk growing over the rim of his wine glass and you straighten in your seat. “I try not to be but when in the presence of such beauty,” Damien grazes his knuckles against the curve of your cheek, watching as you pile food on your plate. “She didn’t have such an appetite back then though—slow down it’s not going anywhere.”

A brow raises, hands freezing in their place, serving spoon hovering in midair as his words settle but you’re quick to recover. Offering a smile, you put the spoon back, returning the dish to its place.

A beat of time passes in complete silence.

“Excuse me?”

“Az, don’t.” Maybe it’s the nickname that slips—one Azriel hadn’t heard you use in months—that forces him to clamp his mouth shut but the way golden eyes go dark is unmistakable. The others are staring; more so at your date than you but ever so gracefully you take control of the situation, resting a hand lovingly on Damien’s shoulder, sparing a quick kiss there over the cotton of his shirt. “It’s fine, he’s right, I had a big lunch.”

Rhys takes over, directing small talk and grilling Damien with subtle questions. Where he was from. His parents and their lineage and you wince slightly at the way he describes the relationship between his parents. “I suppose my family is like any other. My father always raised me to be a strong male who provides and instills order within his home and my mother handles the other duties—certainly none of this fighting mess my angel seems intent on participating in.”

Nesta perks up in her seat, fork scraping against her plate. “She’s actually really good—taught me when I first got here.”

“Be that as it may,” Damien doesn’t even seem to notice the displeased looks directed at him, the shared glances and mental conversations about just how fucking awful they thought he was. But, none of them say a thing, intrigued by your lack of irritation. In fact, you looked quite pleased with yourself, sparing the spymaster quick glances after each degrading comment—like you were getting off on his growing anger. “It’s just not how I was raised. Playing with swords isn’t where she belongs.”

“And where exactly do you feel she belongs?” It’s a loaded question and judging by the low growl that laces Azriel’s words you know Damien’s answer will dictate how the rest of the night goes. If he’d be able to leave the house in one piece.

Damien shrugs as if the response is as easy as breathing, not aware in the slightest of the cobalt glow beginning to push through the thickness of Azriel’s leathers. “In the—“

“Dessert?” You sharply interject, standing abruptly and smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. “Come help me carry it out.” You don’t even look back, ears catching on the linen cloth smacking against the table before the gentle scratch of the chair. You don’t make a sound until you’re behind the kitchens double doors, fingers raking through your hair when you spin around.

Damien is not behind you.

Azriel is, and he’s entirely too close, stalking forward with a growing snarl on god-like features. All sharp cheekbones and a dark brow, even darker hair that falls over his forehead and tickles at the nape of his neck but your eyes are caught on the shape of his mouth. The ripple of his nose and the tightly strung cord of his jaw as he cages you to the counter. “Dump him.”

The smell of his cologne nearly knocks you clean off your feet and your body’s reaction to the proximity was steadily becoming the ultimate betrayal. “What?” He watches you shake yourself from the momentary stupor, a hand smacking at his chest but Azriel doesn’t so much as flinch. “Are you crazy?”

“I will go fucking batshit if you keep throwing yourself all over that sorry excuse of a male.”

It’s the promise coating each syllable that has your thighs clenching but it’s the large hand that ghosts over your silhouette that has arousal pooling in your underwear. Azriel tracks the slow swallow you take, the roll of your throat and it’s like you’re catapulted back in time. Back when it would’ve been your right to lean forward and press your mouth to his, to let those hands roam wherever they pleased as long as he was planning on reciprocating the pleasure. Your fingers clench at your sides at the very thought and there’s no hiding your scent in the air. “You don’t get to do this. You wanted her—you chose her.” Your heart slams against your chest so hard you feared an imprint would begin to form. There’s nowhere to run; nowhere to go that wasn’t completely engulfed in everything Azriel and you have to close your eyes as to not get lost in the familiar touch of his shadows on your skin. “We are over.”

“No, we aren’t.” He noses at your cheek, free hand curling at the side of your neck to make room and you swear at yourself for allowing it. For falling victim to his fucked up game and the way he seemed to know exactly where to touch; plush lips pressing the softest of kisses along your racing pulse and he fucking groans. “It isn’t over—we’ll never be over.” So low and deep, hand tightening ever so slightly at your neck in such a claiming gesture that you have to rip yourself from the delusions beginning to set root. “You will always be mine.”

“You’re insane if you really think that’s true.” Hopefully it sounds more sure than it felt coming out and it takes every ounce of strength you have to pull away, to push through the thick cloud of darkness surrounding you until the glow of the lights were visible again. Fluffy cakes and neatly iced cookies rest on elegant trays and you can’t seem to stop yourself from grabbing one and retreating as far away as possible. “Absolutely insane.” A choked yelp escapes when you bump into the wall, mouth stuffed full of sweet dough and light icing to occupy from the grating thought of dropping to your knees and letting him shove his cock as far back as your throat could allow.

“I can be,” He nods, a smile pulling on his handsome features and your gut clenches. “I’ll be nice and ask you one time to break up with him.”

“And if I don’t?”

Shadows slink up the back of your legs, over your ass—higher and higher until they wrap ever so delicately around your neck. “Then, I’ll kill him.”

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar #azriel #acotar azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel smut #azriel x reader #azriel fic #azriel angst #az smut #acotar fics #acotar smut #acotar az

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traveler-at-heart · 5 months

Text

Across the Natashaverse

Summary: Through a small accident, you end up in another universe. What happens when you find out that your relationship with Natasha is very different here?

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Life is good.

No missions for the week, done with training and fresh off the shower, you walk down the halls of the Compound.

“Someone’s in a good mood” Wanda comments when you join her at the kitchen. “Did Natasha change her mind about the date?”

Your smile falls immediately and her eyes widen.

“Shoot, I’m sorry”

“Nah, it’s fine” you steal a cookie from her plate and shrug your shoulders. “It was two weeks ago. She doesn’t see me that way, I get it”

“I don’t think it’s that” Wanda insists and you smile.

“You’re a hopeless romantic, Maximoff” you lean forward and place a kiss on the top of her head. The brunette chuckles, going back to the book she was reading.

As you walk to your room, you try not to think of Natasha. But it’s a small world, and she’s on her way to the gym, America Chavez right behind her.

“I’m on training duty” the redhead explains. “Wanna join us?”

“I have so much paperwork” you lie, because you’re very tired and have been looking forward to a nap. “Kick some butt, America”

“I’ll try” she doesn’t sound convinced at all.

Natasha smiles at you, waiting for your signature wink that always gets her heart racing.

But there’s not even a look back as you go to your room.

She really screwed up this time.

—

You weren’t exactly lying about the paperwork, and you work on it for half an hour to feel like you’re doing something productive with your day.

With a yawn, you stand up from the desk in your room and walk towards the bed. As you’re about to plop down, there’s a shift in the room and you land on your ass, the bed on the other side of the wall.

“What the fuck?” you say, looking around.

The room looks different. It’s the same size, but none of your stuff is there. Same thing with the hallways. It’s the Compound, but at the same time… it’s not. You walk out of the room, this time on spy mode, ready to take down the imminent threat.

“Y/N?” Natasha calls behind you and you rush to her side.

“Nat, hey. There’s something wrong. Stay close” you take her hand, and she stops you with a pull.

“I’ll say”

“Huh?” you turn, only to find her face inches away from yours.

“Where’s your wedding ring?”

“My… what?” you look down at your hands, confused. Natasha moves her face closer and you can’t focus on anything else.

“Oh, I see. Are you still angry about the other day? Because I can totally make it up to you, detka” Natasha whispers seductively against your lips, leaving a trail of kisses all the way to the shell of your ear.

“Nat.. uh… I think…”

“Use your words, pretty girl” she smiles, her hand going up your shirt to caress the skin.

And suddenly, she looks down, frowning.

“Where’s your scar?”

“I don’t have a…”

Natasha turns into a whole different person, placing you in a chokehold and holding both your arms down.

“Who are you? Are you a skrull?”

“I don’t know what that is” you say, gasping for air. “Wait, are they the ones Carol works with?”

“Who is Carol?”

“Captain Marvel”

“You mean Maria Rambeau”

“Maria is Captain Marvel?” you say, finally piecing together what’s happening. When your eyes lock with Natasha’s, you speak at the same time.

“You’re from another world”

“I’m from another world”

Even if she doesn’t let go, her grip on you losens enough for you to breathe. She’s about to ask something else when a little girl walks up and pulls your hand, getting your attention.

“Mama, what are you and Mommy doing?”

—

“Walk me through what happened”

“Nothing happened! I was doing paperwork in my room and then I was here” you say for the tenth time.

“How about before?” Natasha asks, turning right. Her idea was to drive you straight to Wong, as a multiverse travel is more of his specialty.

“I ran into you. I mean, not you. My Natasha. Wait, not my. She’s not mine” you mumble, massaging your temples. “Please tell me there’s ibuprofen in this world”

“Relax” she reaches forward, placing a hand on your thigh and you swear you’ll combust. “I get the idea. Now tell me what happened”

“We just ran into the hallway. Made some small talk. And then I went to my room”

“Just small talk?” Natasha smirks. “Not some kisses? A quickie against the wall? An earth shattering, universe transcending orgasm?”

You try to open the door and jump out of the moving car but it’s locked.

“It’s not… we’re not a thing. Just friends” you say, flustered.

“Really?” Natasha finally turns to you, as she parks outside of the not so secret lair at Bleecker street.

“Wait. It was America Chavez” you remember, facepalming. Of course. “Natasha was training her. Maybe she created a portal by accident”

“And now my wife is in another universe where you’re too chicken to ask me out. Can’t imagine that will go well for her”

“Hey, it’s not like that” you snap, embarrassed. Natasha turns to you, ready to speak back, as usual. Because she’s so smart and she thinks she knows everything. “Whatever. Let’s just get this shit fixed, I don’t wanna be here”

Walking past her, you stand before the big doors, that open up without knocking

“Welcome” the man says. “I take it you’re the little glitch in our universe”

“Yes, I am. Can you fix it?”

“No. But America can. She has been at Kamar-Taj for a year now. Her powers are more developed. It should be an interesting test for her”

“Ok, so what are we waiting for?”

“There have been some security concerns lately” Natasha explains, coming closer. “Wong has to notify their council to follow protocol”

“I’ll come find you tomorrow. Remember, the longer you stay here, the bigger the threat for both worlds”

“Yes, fine. See you tomorrow” you say, looking at your feet as you leave the building. Going down the steps, you can hear Natasha calling after you. “I’m walking back to the Compound. It’s the same route. I can wait for Wong there”

“We don’t live in the Compound” Natasha explains, her voice gentle. She waits until you turn back and searches your eyes. “Look, I’m sorry about what I said before. Come with me. I’ll feel better if I know you’re safe with us”

There’s a pause, and she waits patiently while you look around. But Natasha’s presence is like a magnet, and inevitably, your eyes come back to her beautiful features.

“What’s so funny?” she says when you chuckle.

“You do the same thing. Tilt your head to the side, purse your lips… it’s cute. In every universe”

“Sweet talker. Come on. Let’s go” she offers her hand and you accept it.

It takes an enormous amount of effort to remind yourself this isn’t the Natasha you know. And that you’re not the one she loves.

You’re so caught up in these thoughts you don’t notice when she pulls over.

“Ice cream always cheers you up” she explains, getting out of the car.

“Yeah, I guess we’re not that different”

She smiles, holding the door open for you. Well, at least the flavors are the same in this universe.

“I’ll have the peanut butter with chocolate chips”

“You’re allergic” Natasha says.

“I’m not”

“You’re not?” she repeats, while the man behind the counter looks at both of you, confused.

“Nope”

Once that’s settled, you get your ice cream cones and leave the store.

“Why are you staring?” you say, mouth full of ice cream.

“I’m just waiting for the hives and the runny nose”

“I’m not allergic” you insist, showing your arms, skin completely normal.

“Fine” she concedes, shrugging her shoulders. You keep eating in silence, until she turns back. “Wanna tell me why you got so upset?”

“Because. I did ask you… her out. She said no. I wasn’t a chicken; I gave her flowers and put myself out there. But I’m obviously the problem, because in this universe, everything works out to the point of you two getting married and having a daughter”

You take a seat in a nearby bench, feeling defeated. What a cruel thing, to see the life you could have had.

“Maybe she’s not ready. I was terrified when we started dating. Thought I’d screw it up because I knew nothing of love”

That’s what Wanda probably meant earlier. It’s a possibility that crossed your mind as well, but whatever the reason, Natasha had declined the date (looking very apologetic, you might add) and you were going to respect that choice.

“Or maybe she just doesn’t want me. And that’s ok. Because no matter what happens, I love my Natasha. And I’ll always want her to be happy”

Silence settles after you say that, but Natasha looks back at you, smiling.

“You’re very noble. It’s nice to see some things are the same across worlds”

“It’s nice to know there’s a version of me that makes a version of her happy”

Natasha smiles and nods.

“Let’s get home. Anya is waiting for us”

—

“Home sweet home” Natasha says, opening the door for you. It’s a beautiful townhouse, with lots of space in the backyard. All the walls are covered in pictures, and you can’t help but stare at all the memories that belong to a different version of you.

They seem like a happy family.

“Mommy” Anya says, and it takes a second to remember that she’s talking to you.

“Hey, sweetheart” you don’t hesitate to carry her as she comes running towards you. Natasha is keeping a watchful eye on you. “What is that?”

“That’s my Miffy, silly” she says and you bounce her in your arms, while she shows you her plushie.

Yelena joins you and you can’t help but stare. Her hair is black, short and she has bangs. There are also a couple of piercings in her nose and eyebrows.

“Did you cut your hair? Looks nice” she comments, picking up her stuff and getting ready to go. You simply nod and smile. “Gotta go, see you tomorrow for dinner with Kate, ok?”

Natasha’s sisters kisses everyone goodbye, including you and then bolts out the door.

“Baby, did you bath yet?” Natasha says, approaching Anya. The girl hides her face in the crook of your neck.

“I don’t wanna”

“You’re stinky” Natasha accuses, tickling the girl; Anya gives up and goes from your arms to the redhead’s. “Come on, and then I’ll start dinner”

“I can take care of that” you offer and Natasha’s eyes widen. Anya uses Natasha’s hair as a curtain, and thinks you can’t hear what she says.

“I don’t want Mommy to cook”

“What? Why?”

“You can’t cook” Natasha says. Well, that’s just bullshit. In your world, Natasha’s always the first in line to get a good serving of whatever it is you do.

“Go, I got this” you insist when Natasha puts Anya down. The redhead looks back several times, unsure. My God, how bad could the other you be in this world to get this reaction?

Luckily, once they are done with the bath, Anya comes back, pulling her mother and commenting that the smell is incredible.

“Mommy didn’t burn the kitchen!”

“Has that actually happened?” you mumble to Natasha and she nods. “Yikes”

The redhead laughs, and nudges your shoulder with hers.

“This is really good” she admits after trying your chicken pasta bake.

“Thinking about keeping me?”

“Maybe” she jokes. “Or bring you over when I don’t feel like cooking”

Of course, Anya doesn’t understand what you’re talking about. She tells you about her day with aunt Yelena and all you have to do is listen and nod.

“I’ll do the dishes” you offer after you finish.

“Come say goodnight to her”

“Will do”

While you clean, you try not to think about what life will be like tomorrow, when you go back to a world where things are different.

“She fell asleep in the middle of a Clifford story” Natasha comes back after a few minutes. “It’s probably because she ate so much”

“I’ll leave the recipe for you” you promise. “Mind if I crash in the couch?”

“Right” the redhead smiles, and you can tell she’s nervous by the way she fidgets with her hands. You reach forward, taking them in yours.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t really sleep without… her”

“I can stay on the bedroom floor”

“I couldn’t possibly ask you to”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering” you assure her.

By the time you’re done with cleaning the kitchen, there’s an inflatable mattress, pillows and a blanket.

“Let me know if you’re comfortable” Natasha asks, turning off the bedroom lights.

“Or what? You’ll let me sleep cuddled up? It wouldn’t be good for the space and time continuum that I kick my own butt”

“I actually think she’d find it funny” Natasha says, and you let her voice lull you in the dark. “She’s probably teasing your Natasha endlessly, trying to get her to admit some sort of feelings for you”

“She has a death wish” you groan, admittedly forgetting that the Natasha you know is having a less than pleasant time right now.

“What is she like?” Natasha says after a few moments of silence.

“She’s the smartest person in any room. Hates cooking and doing dishes. Always looking out for others, always taking on the most missions. She’s really funny too. Sometimes, Bucky will ask anyone for movie recs and Natasha will give a completely made up title. So, Barnes will go crazy looking around for it”

“Oh, I’m so doing that next time” you both laugh.

“Great ass too” you say after a beat and a pillow is thrown across the room and falls right in your face. “Hey!”

“Go to sleep”

—

Next morning, you figure it’s only fair to cook some breakfast before Wong calls you over.

Which, he does, sooner than expected.

Anya is barely finished with breakfast, when Natasha comes down the stairs and looks at you.

“It’s time”

Feeling nervous, and a bit sad, you nod. Wanda shows up a few minutes later. To your shock, in this world, she’s pregnant.

“Thank you for taking care of her, it really won’t take long” Natasha says as soon as she steps inside.

The brunette eyes you curiously, and you can tell by her magic that she knows this isn’t your world.

“You know I’m always happy to”

At the door, Natasha picks up Anya and kisses her everywhere she can. The girl giggles once her mother places her down.

“Hey, bug” you kneel on the floor. “Be good. Your moms will be back soon, ok?”

“Ok, mommy. See you soon”

“Bye, Anya” you say, letting her hug you. Once you’re out the door, Natasha reaches for your hand, and squeezes lightly.

The ride to Bleeker street is silent. Wong seems pleased when he sees you.

“Follow me, ladies” he asks, opening up a portal to Kamar Taj. You’d only been there once; the size of the place always makes you feel like you’re in another planet.

A much older version of America greets you -she’s probably in her twenties- and takes your hand for a second, closing her eyes.

“Ready to go home?” she asks.

“Wait!” Natasha calls behind you and you turn, eyes wide. To your surprise, the woman hugs you, and you wrap her in your arms as well. When she pulls away, she places a small kiss on your cheek. “Anyone would be lucky to have you. She’s an idiot if she can’t see that”

“Thanks, Nat. Not about the idiot part. Be kind to every version of yourself, yes?”

“Fine” she rolls her eyes, squeezing your hand one last time.

You’re about to step into the portal when you turn to America.

“This won’t send me into the middle of a busy road or like, free falling to my death, right?”

“Most likely not” she promises.

You don’t like the sound of that.

“Ok, but on a scale of one to ten…”

“For Agamoto’s sake” Wong sighs behind you, pushing you without warning.

The room is completely upside down and then you land in the middle of the meeting table, the Avengers around you screaming.

“Son of a bitch” Steve says as you roll to the floor, out of air.

“Language” you manage to say. Everyone’s rushing to you. Sam is the first one and he helps you up. They are all talking at the same time, Wanda inspecting the cut on your forehead from falling on the table.

Suddenly, Natasha nudges them aside, wrapping you in her arms.

“Hey, it’s ok. It’s me” you say against her temple.

“We’ll leave you alone. Go to the medbay, though”

“Yes, Cap”

You’re in no hurry, Natasha safely in your arms.

—

“So, what happened while I was gone?” you casually ask as Natasha cleans the cut.

“I almost killed you… her. Twice”

“Sounds like you had fun”

“Not really. She’s a smartass. Can’t cook a damn thing, so I made her a pb&j sandwich”

“Oh, yeah. She’s allergic” you grimace. “Wait, you said you almost killed her twice. If one was with peanut butter…”

“The first thing she did when she came to this world was slap my ass”

“She does have a death wish” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t answer, turning around to put the first aid kit away.

“Is it true?” Natasha asks. You look at her, confused. “Are we married? With a daughter?”

“Oh. Yes, it’s true. They seem to be happy. It was nice”

“Was she better than me?”

“Natasha” you say, forcing her to face you. “I have no doubt in my mind that you’re awesome in every universe. But this version of you is the one I know and love. With your love of spy films, the scar in your belly, and your half smirk when you beat everyone at Uno”

“I am really good at Uno” she agrees and you both laugh.

“Damn right you are”

“I missed you. Too much, to the point where I realise I can’t keep pretending I don’t want this. I’m just scared” she says, holding on to your hands. “Will you help me? Be brave for us”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, love” you promise, kissing her hand softly. “In this, or any other universe”

#Natasha Romanoff x R #Natasha Romanoff x Y/N #natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x You

2K notes · View notes

bunnys-kisses · 2 months

Text

simple woman

simon "ghost" riley

cw: mask kink, dub-con, breeding, bimbo-ish!reader, size difference/kink, choking, finger-fucking, degradation (misogyny), impregnation/pregnancy, minor praise kink, there's a lot happening a word from bunny: like the fic! suggest your own! comments are always welcomed <3

simon just thought you were the sweetest thing to come out the army. he must've thought they were getting desperate by letting a scaredy cat like you in. look at you, you could've even hold a gun steady with your arms shaking! tsk, tsk, tsk. someone like you shouldn't be in a place like this, with all these scary men.

they'd eat you alive and then chew on your bones. they'd lick you in and out like the inside of a crisp package. stay with simon, he'd keep you safe. but safety came with a price. and that price landed you with an extra eight inches inside of you.

he had you alone for the night, away from your barracks and into the single room he had. the privileges of what he did. but a good girl like you had to behave. be good for him.

strong fingers were thrusted in and out of your sweet cunt as he kept another hand of his around your neck to keep you quiet. he wore his mask to conceal his face. even after all this time you saw was his lips and the nasty scar on one side.

"that's a good girl." he said quietly, "i like how you act when i'm three fingers inside of ya. you take me so well."

you whimpered and clutched onto his shoulders. he was just so big compared to you, in every sense of the word. he at least had a head over you and broad enough shoulders that he easily blocked out the sun when he loomed over you. he was strong and domineering.

"that's my girl. you know no one else can have you, right? because if the wrong fucker tried to take you from me. they'd simply end up in pieces in the river."

your nailed dug into the meat of one of his shoulders as you tried to support yourself. you whimpered as he held you still by your throat as he moved his fingers faster in and out of you. you kicked your legs out but he curled around you to keep you close to him.

"stop that, love. i'd hate to have to tie you up and gag you." he squeezed a little and you wheezed. he knew he was in control, he loved the control he had over his little doll.

you squeezed onto him tighter as you tried to take as much air as you could between the moments he relaxed his grip. he dipped his face into your neck as inhaled your sweaty scent, to him it smelt amazing.

"simon." you croaked.

"no, no, girlie. it's lieutenant. and not lt like soap says." he reminded you as he pulled his hand away from your throat and tapped his finger against your nose. he watched you take a deep breath after being deprived of (most) air for some time.

you sputtered and coughed and he continued to fuck you with his calloused fingers. he admired the mark around your neck that he was certain was going to go purple within a few days. he wrapped an arm around around shoulders and pulled you into him as he continued to brutalize your cunt with his fingers.

you panted and moaned into his skin and your nails dug into his shoulders as you tried to leverage yourself. you felt on the knife's edge of pleasure even if it was rough and messy. your toes curled as you panted heavily. the room felt hot and your head felt like a mess.

simon was the only anchor you had to reality. you moaned softly into his strong neck, you could feel the sweat drip down it and onto your nose. it must got hot under the mask.

when you climaxed, your cunt tightened around his fingers. he knew and clamped a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. he watched your tense as he finger-fucked you, then when you relaxed and collapsed onto the bed with you nude body on display for him.

he pulled out his fingers and slipped them under the back to get a taste of your wetness. he groaned to himself before he got your legs off his lap. he got up from the bed and started to undress. you looked at him, your mind was drawn to a blank as you saw the muscle on his body.

he wasn't simply built the way men in superhero movies were. he was like a classic strongman you once saw in a book. you could tell there was heavy muscle, but a layer of thickness over top. it kept him warm in the cold months on base. if he were an animal, it would be like a bear. bulky, intimidating, ready to tear apart whatever victim got in its jaws.

he was scary, you were in love with him.

simon didn't love, he obsessed. his entire life had been stalking, almost hunting for the 'bad guys'. when he worked it was an obsession to track down the likes of terrorists, so it would only make sense that he loved the same way.

he got undressed, but still opted to keep the mask on. you could see his stern dark eyes staring at you as you laid on your stomach on his bed. he could tell you were still out of it, your mind a blur.

"that's a good girl. nice and dumb for me." he chuckled quietly to himself as he approached the bed once more, "no need to think about a damn thing, just how good i make you feel."

"simon, please." you whimpered.

he chuckled as he came over and ruffled your hair, "i know, i know. you're always trying to prove yourself to captain price. but i know what you're capable of. meant to be a good doll for me, maybe instead of being a Sargent, you can become my wife. a better fittin' title for you." he rarely spoke much, but when he was with you and your brain was splatted to the back of your skull, the words came out.

his tongue was filthy, but he saw how you reacted to them. he knew you were a dirty whore, he was just lucky to find you first and keep you all to himself.

he sat down on the edge of the bed and groped your ass. his touches were rough and you tried to back away from him on the bed. but you could never truly escape simon. he was a ghost, he'd find you. so don't go running away, as he always warned you. he wagged his finger at you like you were some kind of child.

but now he was kissing at your neck and gripping your ass with his broad hand. he loved how you felt under him, how he pressed into you. he could crush you so easily, that was why he never understood how you even got into the army. you bruised like a fruit, there were many times he grabbed you and were left purple within a few days.

simon loved the bruises. but only when he did them. he wasn't going to beat you down, you were his doll. but he did enjoy the sight of the splotches of purple and blue on your hips when you undressed for him. he wondered if your fellow soldiers ever gossiped about them.

but that wasn't anything to worry about. soon simon would have his way and you wouldn't even be in the forces. as he moved your hips to be at level with his hard cock, he thought about the nice house he'll get for the both of you.

somewhere he can keep you safe, his hidden treasure. he did want children, he wanted many of them. and you'd give them all to him, he wondered if your folks would be okay if he got you knocked up before the wedding.

the thought made him smile under his mask as he sank down into your pussy, all eight inches slammed into the back of your pussy. you let out a loud moan but he clamped a hand around you mouth to keep you quiet.

"i'm pretty sure." he said, "you don't want the base to know how much of a fuckin' slag you are." he kissed your cheek through the mask harshly, "that's for me to know." then started to thrust in and out of you with on hand around your mouth and the other on your shoulder to guide your body up and down his cock.

the mask up against your hot cheek was overstimulating, the fabric of the balaclava was rough against your skin. your cheeks stung as he thrusted up into you.

the bed squeaked under you two as the headboard hit against the wall gently. simon was lucky that he didn't have any neighbours in that direction.

he was domineering over top of you, he had you under his weight as his cock bullied against your cervix. you gasped and moaned into his hand as you saw stars in your vision. you were such a treat.

he was obsessed with you, he only wanted you. you were everything to him. now he just needed a piece of land and enough security to make sure that no one was going to hurt a single hair on your head. after all it was his duty as the man to make sure his wife was alright.

"you're perfect like this. this is how a woman should be." he remarked, "under me, letting me fuck that sweet cunt. you're a good girl for me. you'll make a good role model for our girls."

you squeaked and your eyes went wide for a moment. but then he slammed against your womb and your eyes rolled back from the intense pleasure. you held onto the bed under you and your back was arched as he fucked your harder.

he was practically fucking you up against the headboard, with your body contorted so he could thrust into you without much abandon. your wet pussy made the most delicious sounds as he used you. it felt so good. it was like you were made for him.

he groaned against you and continued his harsh thrusts. he kept you pinned to him, where you belonged. "pretty girl like you was probably told her entire life that you could be whatever you wanted. but, i know better. meant to be a wife and mother to a good englishman." he chuckled in your ear, "make the queen proud by havin' a few brats with me." he felt your cunt tighten around him which made him groan, "my doll likes that, huh? puttin' a man on top for once. don't worry i ain't no deadbeat. happy wife, happy life." he pulled up his mack a little so he could get the feeling of your heated skin against his lips.

you hated how he talked down to you because you were a woman. you had enough of it in the military. but it stirred something in you that you had little words for. maybe the idea of having a few kids with simon wasn't a bad idea. no more trainings, no more missions. just you and him. even as you tried to shake the thought off, your body responded by clenching around his cock. As to ensure that he stayed right in your pussy.

he dropped your face onto the pillow and held you by the neck. then with his other hand he raised your hips further. he was holding you up as he bruised your pussy with his cock.

"nice little place out in the country. five kids should be enough to keep ya busy. five under four years if we're lucky." he chuckled darkly, "kept woman, that's what you'll be. my lovely wife in her place, as she should be." he chuckled. you couldn't even look behind you to see the face he was making with his mask pulled up every so slightly.

"simon." you whimpered.

"what did i say, doll? you're a lower rank among other things. don't make me punish ya."

"sorry, lieutenant." you squeaked.

"good girl." he continued his harsh thrusts that left the bed moving. your brain felt like mush once more, his words rang in your head like church bells. you were too far gone with him, he was obsessed with you. his claws were in you long before this and there was no escaping it now.

it almost brought a cold fear in you at the idea of taking another lover. if he found out someone touched what was his. you could only imagine the damage he'd do, not only to the man you were with but also you, yourself.

his movements started to stagger, he had less focus and was relying on instinct as he rammed his cock into you. he was getting close to his own climax. your pussy was such a delight around him, you accommodated his large size perfectly. you were a dream.

he gave a few more heavy thrusts before he finished inside of you, "good girl, take me all. that's it. make sure not to spill a drop or i'll have to get find ways to keep in ya next time."

"yes, lieutenant." you moaned into the pillows. you tensed when he started to play with your clit. his fingers were fat but nimble. they rubbed against your sweet spot as you clenched around his still hardened cock.

"i ain't done with you yet, love." he said in your ear as you climaxed around him, "got a couple more loads before i think i've seeded ya enough. you just lie there like a good girl and let me take care of everything."

there was no option to say 'no', you were pinned under him with his cock buried inside of you. you meekly nodded. he chuckled and you shuddered.

you knew it was going to be a long night.

the last name riley wasn't the worst one to have. simon often joked that it could be long like mactavish. it had been three years since you left the military to be his bride.

now you were on your fourth kid, about six months pregnant. you hard a girl and two twin boys. you wanted to keep the gender of baby number four a secret.

he had your legs open, he held onto your thighs as he sank his cock into you. he groaned out loud. the kids were asleep which meant it was time for mama and papa to play.

he placed your legs up against his chest, closed to one side. he then leaned forward and bent your knees as much as the belly would allow. he had you in a press as he bullied his cock into your pussy.

he groaned as he felt the tight heat around his cock. you looked perfect in his eyes, you gave him everything he wanted. you were a fine mama, a good wife to him. he gave a few gentle thrusts as he looked into your eyes.

the mask was long gone, but the look in his eye remained back when you first started to have sex. he was obsessed with you still and every little thing you did.

there was no place you could ever hide from him. he had claimed you inside and out. but it was alright, he intended on keeping you for a long time.

"good girl." he grumbled.

"thank you, lieutenant." <3

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moonit3 · 7 months

Text

A LOYAL BUTLER pt. 2

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, nsfw, cunnilingus, handjob, blowjob, afab! reader, male! yandere, dom! reader, sub! yandere, kissing, dry humping, non penetration but smut, I don’t how to write moans so bare with me, implied overstimulation.

➥ synopsis: a party leads to an unexpected moment for you and elliot that makes the relationship even more intimate.

➥ yandere! butler x f! reader

➥ a/n: with the help and guidance of @taeee0902 , im bringing the second part of the story that many of you have been waiting for! keep in minds this is probably the now longest piece of the blog for now, also the most long smut ive write before \(//∇//)\ so im hoping to all of you enjoy this piece as i loved writing this one! also, this is part two of this post! so check it out for some context.

➥ it’s been a few weeks since you and elliot got closer than ever. letting his hands and lips going over your body during working hours, making you feel relieved after long days of paperwork and making you feel so much pleasure from his hands alone. to think he is doing it almost daily is insane, specially when it’s risky to be caught. one time, elliot touched you in the library, despite knowing there were servants around.

➥ the occasions when he isn’t touching nor speaking dirty things to your ears, elliot still helps with your family’s finances. despite being your lover behind the curtains, he still needs to be a presentable man to keep his job as your personal butler, but also to prevent anyone from finding it out the relationship you two share. elliot knows how many people wants to steal you away from him.

➥ “you are mine, [name]…” his hands holds your waist down to the bed, preventing you from escaping his touch as he teases your entrance. the lovely sounds coming out from your lips and seeing how your eyes are rolling back makes him smile. “none can see you like this but me, do you understand me?” the only thing you could do is nodded, too busy to speak when his fingers entered your hole and too much concentrated to not moan loudly, too focused to not moan out loud of this situation.

➥ and his touchy attitude got more intense with the invitation from an old friend of your late father. a gala where many nobles will celebrate the birth of the new addition of the duke’s family, not a big deal though. however when the party started, noblemen got all over you, asking for your hand and shameless flirting with you, not caring it’s that is against the queen’s words.

➥ i should’ve stayed home…that you keep thinking by every time one of those old men gets closer to you, offering you to become their second or third wife. you can’t believe men like this exist, how can they be this stupid? thankfully, elliot is here to help.

➥ his expressionless face and sharp words were enough to make those men step away from you. because of that, many nobles began to believe that he is the voice of reason of the barony, a harsh and cruel butler who has to help the inexperienced baroness who inherited a large territory, but they don’t know the true, none of them really does.

➥ when it’s the time to leave the party, you decided to go to the bathroom and elliot took the opportunity to arrange the carriage. you give your best at smiling at those nobles for hours and hours, so that’s the barely minimum he can do for you. he was ready to enter the carriage to wait for you, but suddenly a maid calls for his name, one that he recognizes to be working for the party’s host.

➥ despite telling her name, elliot’s mind fail to remember as she talks and talks even more about her admiration for him. it’s an innocent crush, elliot can tell that by how her cheeks gets reds when he pretends to pay attention and how she can’t hold her voice low whatever she speaks about her current hobbies. situations like this are normal, everyone gets a crush on someone else, but this girl is getting off the hook. trying to touch his gloved hand and taking steps to be closer to him, this girl is surely bold or stupid enough to not know her place.

➥ he was ready to yell, maybe making a scene to scold her behavior, but nothing happened as you returned. with a smile on the lips, you make your way to stand next to elliot and dismiss the maid. the tone of your voice is shape and cold, completely opposite of your usual manner. it was efficient and the maid quickly left the scene, but not before staring at you with hateful eyes.

“my lady,” he is relieved by your arrival, things could’ve been different if you hadn’t arrived in time. “thank you for helping me with that maid.”

the sweet smile on your lips calm him down, “no problem, elliot. its my duty to assure that my closest friend feel uncomfortable.” is that so? your hands goes to his and you get closer to whisper your next words, “before we leave, i need to show you something. follow me~”

and he obeyed you. step by step, elliot walked behind you for a path that he didn’t visit earlier of the duke’s manor as he was too occupied by staying at your side during the party, however you seems familiar with this part of the mansion. have you visited here before? perhaps. after all, every noble knows each other from either arranged marriages or business relationships.

it took a few more minutes til you arrive at the place you wanted to show elliot, a library, where the only living souls around are you and him. the door is closed when he enters after you, there is something around that you want to show him? maybe an ancient book, money or could it be something else?

“elliot.” turning to face you, elliot is surprised by your hands pushing him to sit down an dusty empty armchair. slowly, you began unzipping the back of your dress, revealing the black bra and panties that you are wearing underneath it. what are you doing? this is unladylike of a noblewoman! but why isn’t he stopping you? “is this alright with you?”

he nodded, too busy to talk by the moment your hands hold his face closer to your. feeling your breath to his skin makes the entire world pause for an instant and the soft of your lips on his makes elliot feel the luckiest man to ever exist. the kiss was meant to last seconds, but elliot didn’t want to let go of this magnificent moment, so he pulled you closer with his own hands and kissed you for longer.

it’s a little weird to know that had touched you before in numerous occasions, but it’s just now that you shared a kiss with him, one that left a line of saliva when the two of finally separated. cheeks red and completely breathless, those are the words that describe you and elliot in this situation.

“a-are you—“ you interrupted him with another kiss, but it didn’t last long as elliot pushed you away. “we shouldn’t do this—it’s wrong and unacceptable to a noble lady kiss her servant.”

“really? off all the things we did before, you consider a kiss to be more blasphemy than those times you were in middle of my legs?” a laugh escapes from your lips, trying to minimize the awkward of this situation. “besides, i know you want this too, to take things just a little more further between the two of us.”

the embarrassment of elliot’s face faded with your words. “you want me?” the thought of alone makes him wonder for long you have planned this.

“of course i want you, elliot.” you kissed his neck, dirtying a small part of his white long shirt and smiling at his face. “but i will understand if you wish to pretend this never happened—“

“NO!” he holds your hips closer to his, not daring to let you escape from his grab nor getting up from his lap. “i want this. i want you, [name]…so please, continue to touch me as you wish, my lady.”

“then, i will begin.” you smiled.

with his hands on your hips, elliot guide you to move forward and back on his lap. soft moans comes from his mouth by every time you rub your intimate part closer to his buldge, it’s a new sensation for the butler, one that is making his body feel so good.

your hands on his shoulder makes him smile, this isn’t a dream, this is real and feeling your soft finger touching him is a reminder this whole experience is reality and he won’t ever change this for anything, not even for a fancy title.

elliot can feel that he is close. the moans turned into whimpers and whines speaking your name when his grip is getting weaker, his eyes are full of tears of pure pleasure. he wants to hold it, too make this moment last longer, but he failed to do so.

“ahhhh……mmm~!” one of your hands went to his lips, preventing elliot from moaning out loud to the entire manor, but that didn’t stop him from dirtying his brief and pants. its stick, you can feel as you get up from his lap and it’s visible if anyone pays closer attention. also the look on his face doesn’t help much either. “…[name]…”

things was supposed to end there, at least, that was elliot thought before you kneeling in front of him. before having you unzipped his pants, removing his briefs to take his cock into your hands. he couldn’t say a words, not when his own voice was betraying him by only letting the library’s wall listen to his stuffy moans.

the tears coming from his eye block mostly of his vision, only letting elliot see your blurry hands touching his cock and feeling your tongue licking the head of his member. wait. are you going to do what is he thinking? your lips gets closer to his shaft and then take as much as possible of him inside your mouth.

“ah…” elliot groans, the hand that isn’t preventing the moan from escaping goes to your head, guiding you to take just a little more of him. “hmmmm~”

the base of his cock is getting stoke with your non-dominant hand while the other one is holding his thighs from closing whatever elliot whimpers. your tongue can already taste the precum coming from the tip and he is already telling you to stop, saying that you shouldn’t drink it, that is dirty to a lady like to do it, but you don’t hear him.

and for a last time tonight, elliot whimpers as he finally came over and in return, you take it all inside your mouth. not a single drop escape from your lips as you smiled after drinking it all, impressing elliot in the process.

“elliot~” you still between his legs, holding his still hard cock in your hands. “are your ready for another round?”

“y-yes, [name].” he stuttered.

hiding behind one of the many pillars of the manor, a maid stares at the library’s door, waiting for two people to step out and to caught them for staying after the party was finished.

“my lord won’t like this at all.” a smile crept into her lips, already imagining the many scenarios of the baroness and her butler getting scolded and gaining some extra money for it. “and i might get a chance with that guy afterwards.”

the maid stood there for at least an hour or so before the door finally opened, revealing the two individuals she was hoping to see, but instead of calling their attention or some knight to scolded them, her body freeze by what she notice of them.

lipstick marks on the butler’s neck, a tiny drop of white fluids on the noble woman lips and what made her too stunned to speak…they are holding hands! a member of the high society being touchy with a mere commoner, isn’t that wrong? she was supposed to say something or at least call someone to shame them in the public eyes, but she just stood still, watching the two walking away to the entrance.

the baroness and her butler smiled to each other when stepping out of the duke’s manor, happily to their relationship getting more intimate and to the maid who was too scared to do something against them.

@moonit3 writings

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