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#but the idea wouldn’t leave me alone so here we are
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The Hedge Maze Thing ...
... is finally ready, and just in time to slip in to #HalsinTavWeek in a perfect spot between Day #4 (Magical Mishap) and Day #5 (Bondage). As before, inspiration for this came from this beautiful image, and a wild conversation with @pedros-immaculate-vibes
Garden Party
Halsin and his "little fox" are attending a prestigious masquerade event. As the evening starts to slow down, she suggests they slip away for some "alternative" entertainment.
Pairing: Halsin / Tav
Content warnings: Explicit smut, Outdoor sex, (Very) Light Bondage, Soft Dom Halsin, Orgasm delay, PiV sex.
Word count: 3.5k
Read on AO3
Taglist: @thoughts-of-bear @clairetheflower @sensitivesoil1008
Halsin moved through the crowd with ease, using his size to his advantage, parting the clusters of masked party goers still lingering between the flowerbeds.  He moved with purpose, but not too quickly; he still took the time to return a nod here, a word there, cautious to stay blended in with the attendees of this masquerade party.  The last thing either of them needed was to draw attention; after all, they weren’t here as true guests, they were here as representatives of the local wildlife agency, ostensibly to help ensure the event went smoothly, in reality to sneak a careful word here and there in the right ears, and secure their funding for the next year.
How had she snuck through so quickly?  Her choice of a fox mask for this charity event seemed quite appropriate, Although he had chosen a bear, so he didn’t get to judge. His nostrils flared as he neared the roped off entrance to the hedge maze, and caught her scent; her perfume mingled with the bouquet of the sparkling wine she had been sneaking the occasional glass of.  A perk of the evening, she had decided.  As the event had drawn on, he had noticed the sparkle of the wine touch her eyes, perhaps she had helped herself to one too many?  Or perhaps she simply had a devilish idea.
The latter, as it turned out.  She had noticed him standing off to one side, surveying the elite of the local councils and such from behind his bear mask.  He hadn’t missed her sidling up to him, her movements and the smile on her face suited to her delicate fox mask.  
“There you are.  I wanted to see if you might be up for a little fun.”
“Such as?” he murmured quietly, for her ears only.
“I thought you might like to try the hedge maze with me.” She tilted her head to look up at him, her smile and the hint of a raised eyebrow behind her mask suggesting she had more on her mind than a gentle walk through the raised bushes.
“We’ve both been through there before.”
“Yes.  But-” she brought her lips close to his ear, as much to brush them against it, as to ensure her next words were for him alone. “-what if we made it a little game.  I’ll go in, you give me … shall we say …  five minutes head start? And then you follow.  If you catch me before I get to the centre, you win.”
“And what would be my prize, little fox?”
She nipped gently at his ear, as she pressed her body in close to his. “I imagine my bear would love to devour his prey, wouldn’t he?” she whispered.
He gave a low moan, and glanced down at her, a wicked gleam in his eyes.  “Two.”
“Two?”
“You get two minutes.  Not five.  Now go.”
*****
Her eyes had gone wide at the time reduction, and he had given her ass a quick swat to encourage her to run.  She had yelped at the sting of it, then giggled as she turned to leave.  Halsin took a deep breath as he watched her go, that giggle echoing in his ears, the skirts of her dress bouncing as she stepped quickly through the throng of people.  It was going to be a long two minutes.
*****
He paused at the entrance to the maze, taking a cautious look around before slipping past the velvet rope barrier. It cost him precious seconds, but he knew once he was out of sight, he had the advantage.  Not only had he done this maze in the past, he had her scent to follow.  He passed between the stone columns of the entrance, and vanished into the shadows.
Straight on, make a right, then a left turn here, left again there.  Right again at that crossing.  He navigated the soft paths with ease and a speed that most would find surprising given his size.  He paused only briefly to scent the air, certain he would find her in time.  Until the flutter of silk and ribbons caught his attention, and he paused to grab the pretty fabric from the branch it was hanging from.  He’d seen this before.  A few hours earlier.
*****
They had laid out their chosen outfits for the evening on the bed. A deep green shirt and simple black dress trousers for him.  An off-the-shoulder dress of pale green velvet with silver leaves embroidered on it for her.  And their masks; his, a bear painted on soft leather, hers, a beaded filigree mask in the shape of a fox, with green crystals accenting the eye holes.
She had come out from the bathroom dressed in the matching set of pink undergarments, everything designed to draw his eye, and yet conceal everything from him.  A lightweight corset, with ribbons lacing the front to snugly mould against her body.  A pretty little garter belt, with delicate straps holding up lace topped stockings.  And the final piece, a whisper of silken fabric between her thighs, held in place with ribbons tied into neat bows over her hips.
He stared unabashedly as she covered the vision with her dress.  He couldn’t help but think about how much he wanted to grab those ribbons in his teeth and pull.  One thing was sure, he was going to have fun with those later, he had promised himself.
And now, she was missing that key piece.  And not only that, she’d denied him the pleasure of removing it himself.  He growled to himself at her audacity.  And again, louder, as he realised he had fallen for the distraction.  Clever little vixen.  He took a deep breath, and felt a rush of arousal as he noticed the extra note to her scent now.  He stuffed the underwear into his pocket and resumed the chase, all the more determined to win now.
He neared the last turn before the central area, and noticed her scent went down the wrong path.  Had she forgotten the way?  Or had that wine gone to her head a little?  No matter.  He had her.  He grinned wickedly as he took the correct path, and made it to the small clearing, the bronze statue of a young owlbear that marked the centre shining in the moonlight.  Its beak was brighter than the rest, where countless hands had touched it, marking their success in achieving the centre of the maze.  He settled himself on the stone bench in front of the statue, and pulled off his mask, resting it against the owlbear’s paw.
He didn’t have to wait long.  She ran through the leafy arch, skidding to a stop when she saw him reclining on the bench. 
“Fuck!” She swore, panting.
“Oh, I intend to, my pretty little thing.”  His voice was low but carried perfectly well to her ears. “Lose your way?”
“No!” she said indignantly.  She huffed. “I tripped as I cast Misty Step, it sent me off course.” she admitted, sheepishly.  He laughed, a deep, low rumble.
“So you did lose your way.  And … I think you lost more than that.”  He pulled his hand out of his pocket, revealing the prize he had tucked in there, the pretty item he had plucked from the branch.
She smiled at him coyly. “But the deal was you had to catch me before I got to the centre.  So I win.”
“But you’re not at the centre.” he countered, reaching his hand up to touch the beak of the owlbear statue.  “You know as well as I do, this is the centre.  You’re not there yet.”  He stood up, clearly meaning to block her from it, and fixed her with a predatory smile.  “But you’re welcome to try.”
Her eyes darted around, quickly assessing her options.  The space was not large, but offered just enough space for her to dodge around him.  If she was fast enough.  Misty Step was exhausted until she rested. So cunning it would have to be.  She feinted to her left, watching for him to follow her movement, then leaped to the right, reaching to touch the statue as she jumped.
He was expecting her trick.  And she leaped right into his arms.
They wrapped around her, trapping her, unexpectedly graceful in the way he spun her away from the statue, putting it out of her reach.  He brought them to a stop facing the statue, his hands on her hips, and he pulled her roughly back against him.
“Did you really think that would work?” he laughed,  his lips brushing against her neck.  “No matter.  I win.”
She shivered, breathless for a whole other reason now.  She could feel the growing bulge behind her, as his hands drifted up over her body, brushing over the curve of her breasts, up to her bare shoulders, and then slowly down her arms.  As he reached her wrists, he gripped them both, tugging them behind her, pinning them together with one hand, as the other reached to his pocket.  She felt ribbons being wrapped around her wrists, binding them together.
“I had planned to enjoy taking these off you later.  And you’ve denied me that.  So I’m going to use them to enjoy you another way”
The ends of the ribbons brushed against her palms, and she grabbed at them reflexively. He noticed, and leaned in to nip at her ear.
“Behave.” His voice was a soft growl. “If you pull on those, if you try to free yourself, I'll stop. I’ll stop everything I’m doing to you, and I will leave you wanting.”
She shivered at his commanding tone, but obediently opened her hands to let the ribbons drop.
“Good girl.”  He gently nudged her towards the bench in front of the statue.
“Now,” he stepped in close behind her again, and tugged at the laces that held her mask.  “I don’t want to ruin this.” He took the delicate mask in both hands, and lifted it carefully off her head, reaching forward to place it with his on the statue. “But I do plan on ruining you.”
He spun her to face him, his hands on her shoulders again, and he moved in to kiss her greedily, his tongue demanding entrance that she willingly gave.  His hands trailed back down her body, pausing to cup and squeeze at her breasts, pinching at the hardening nipples, which he could feel poking through, despite the layers of fabric, and she moaned in response.
He moved his hands farther down, to her waist, and he pressed down on her hips, guiding her to sit on the stone bench, keeping close enough to her body to force her knees apart to accommodate him.  He lowered himself to kneel in front of her, and his hands continued their path down, across her thighs, down her calves, to the hem of her skirts.  She gasped, tilting her head down to look at him, as he worked his hands beneath the fabric.  He looked and caught her eye, holding her gaze as he trailed fingertips back up over her stockinged legs, pausing when he reached the lace tops, stopping himself from touching the bare skin at the tops of her thighs.  He caught her leaning back a little, pressing her hips forward for him.
“Needy little thing, aren’t you tonight?”
“Please.” she whispered, feeling the start of an ache in her core, and ache that his touch would relieve.
“Please, what?”
She groaned. “Please touch me.”
She whined as he pulled his hands away completely, but only to gather up her skirts and lift them up to rest around her waist, careful not to touch her bare skin.  He put a hand on each knee, and pressed gently, spreading her open. With her legs this wide apart, he admired the way the moonlight glistened on the moisture already seeping from between her folds.
“Already dripping for me, my love?  I might think you wanted to lose.”
“I wanted to win.” she protested, her breath coming in soft pants.
“Really.” his disbelief clear.  “And instead, you’re all mine.” He brushed his thumbs over the exposed skin of her thighs, and watched the muscles jump at his touch. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.” He ran his fingers across her thighs, around to her hips, further back to the plush curves of her ass, digging his fingers into the soft flesh, as he dipped his head to kiss the top of one stocking, then the other.  Then a kiss to one bare thigh, then the other.  She whimpered, arching her hips up to him again.  She could feel his lips curl into a smile.
“So desperate already, my heart?  And I haven’t even reached your favourite spot.  Yet.”
Another kiss, higher still, his nose nudging at the apex of her thighs, breathing in that scent he’d been tracing through the maze. She moaned, writhing her hips in invitation, wordlessly begging for him to give her more.  He pulled his head away for a moment, watching her desperate movements.  But only for a moment, as he admitted to himself how much he wanted to taste her, to take that dripping nectar on his tongue.  He bent his head back down, licking slowly up her slit, spreading her folds apart with his skilled tongue, dipping between them as his nose brushed against her clit.
She let her head fall back as she whined, arching her back to press her hips up to him, a desperate invitation to give her more.  He moved his hands to lightly hold her hips, keeping her still as he pressed his tongue inside her, the taste of her filling his mouth.  He listened to her gasp as he moved his tongue, lapping deeply.
“Halsin … please,” she whispered, and he knew what she wanted.  He slid one hand from her hip, his thumb moving to press circles over her slick, swollen clit.  He could feel the quiver in her thighs, could hear her breath growing ragged, knew he had brought her right to the edge, and knew she wanted nothing more than for him to tip her over it.  Usually, he’d also love nothing more.  But tonight …
He pulled back, and looked up, licking his lips as he listened to her keening moan when she realised he was going to deny her.
“Please!” she gasped, her voice a high pitched whisper.
“Need something?” he asked, his tone feigning curiosity.
“Please,” she begged between gasps, “I need … I want … let me …”
He smiled wickedly at her inability to string a sentence together.  Of course he knew exactly what she wanted, but he wasn’t going to let her have it, not just yet.  Instead he stood up, and she could see the clear, hard outline of his cock right in front of her.  She leaned forward to grab the fastening of his trousers with her teeth, working to release the fabric.  He paused, grinning down at her - he’d indulge her for a moment or two.  She was going to struggle to achieve her goal, and the friction of the fabric as she tugged it back and forth felt good to his swollen self.
She succeeded in opening the button, and worked to open his trousers further, a small growl of frustration vibrating against him, and he gave a low moan of his own, which only served to increase her determination.  Hells, she wished her hands were free, she wanted to push the fabric out her way so badly, but she knew he’d keep his threat, so kept them obediently behind her.
“Let me help you, my little love.”  he offered, releasing himself from the confines of his clothing and she wasted no time in moving her head in close, breathing in that scent of herbs and musk that was so uniquely him.  She reached her tongue out to lick his exposed length, her own aching frustration momentarily forgotten, pressing her tongue flat to taste as much of him as she could, brushing her lips over the smooth skin, swirling her tongue over him, tasting the salt of his pre-cum as it beaded from the tip.
He threaded the fingers of one hand into her hair, and pulled her head back, forcing her to release him from her mouth.  She looked up at him with a whimper.  With his other hand, he scooped up her thigh, and pushed, pivoting her on her ass so she was sideways on the bench.  He knelt between her thighs, reaching behind her to tug the ribbons loose, releasing her wrists.  He placed his hands on her upper arms, guiding her to lay back on the bench, as he loomed up over her, the stone cool and rough against her bare shoulders.  He slid his hands down to her wrists, lifting them up above her head, and looped the ribbons over the armrest and back around her wrists.
She looked up into his lovely hazel eyes, unsure if the spark she saw was a reflection of the light, or that flash of gold he sometimes got when his control was on its edge.  She didn’t have time to figure it out, as he tied the knots again, and leaned in to kiss her, hungrily, greedily pressing his tongue to her lips, which she parted willingly, desperate for any contact with him. He moved a hand quickly down her body, fingers quickly finding her soaked entrance, and sliding a single one inside her, feeling her sigh against his mouth.  He added a second finger, his movements slow as he slid them in and out of her, letting her adjust to the stretch of him, preparing her, feeling her soft moans against his tongue.
He pulled his hand away, using his wet fingers to stroke his cock, spreading her juices over himself, mixing with more of his pre-cum.  He guided himself to line up with her entrance, and pressed slowly inside her, pausing once the head of his cock was nestled within her soft walls.
She wanted so badly to reach for his hips, and pull him deeply into her, but she didn’t dare risk being denied her reward, not when she was so close.  So she settled for arching her back, trying desperately to buck her hips up and force him deeper.
He lifted himself away from kissing her, pausing for a moment to admire her laying there in the moonlight, her cheeks flushed, her chest heaving as her breath came in small pants.  He reached around her hips to lift her slightly. He smiled down at her, lovingly.
“More?”
“Please” she whispered breathlessly.
He lifted her a little further into his lap, sliding deeper into her, as she cried out in pleasure.  His fingers dug into her soft curves to hold her steady as he started a slow rhythm, barely giving her time to adjust to the stretch of him filling her, listening to her soft moans at each roll of his hips.  He knew that since he brought her so close to the edge already, that it wasn’t going to take much to have her seeing stars beneath him.
“My pretty little thing, you feel so good.” Her hips bucked up at the praise, her hands tugging at her ties, grasping at air, but still obedient, not pulling herself free.  He rewarded her by increasing his pace, driving harder into her, his cock pulsing as her moans changed to frantic whimpering, her body responding to the pounding, her climax within her reach once more.  He moved a hand to brush a thumb over her clit, watched her jaw clench as she hissed through her teeth.
“Let go, my little fox.  Scream for me.”
She gave a high pitched growl as she came, her body tensing beneath him, her back arching up and her legs wrapping tightly around his waist, as if she wanted nothing else than to merge her body with his completely.  He felt her walls clench around him, a steady pulse as he continued to move deep inside her, his movements rougher as he chased his own climax.  A few more thrusts and he let loose a deep growl, as his throbbing cock pumped his seed deep inside her.  He leaned down to kiss her, her tongue eager to taste him as her body quivered in the cool night air. He reached up to pull the ribbons loose, tucking the scrap of fabric back into his pocket.  She immediately reached to wrap her arms around him, and pulled him in close against her, as their breathing slowed.
Their moment of afterglow was disturbed by a couple of loud bangs, and glittering sparks lit up the night sky.  She smiled at the sight.
“I think I already saw my own fireworks.”
Halsin grinned at her.  “We should get back though, the party is almost at an end.”
She laughed.  “Perhaps a slower walk back.  Not sure my legs could take another race.”
“Good.”
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acatalystrising · 1 year
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HNNGG I’m almost done with chapter four of Moth to a Flame (already writhing in the feels okay it’s so much fun I’m screaming I’m fine) SOOO in the meantime, I dared to finish the Boba painting, so without further ado, here you go…
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mossy-rock-in-a-field · 5 months
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Several weeks ago, my retirement-age mother requested that I play Baldur’s Gate 3 for her because she has trouble with controllers/keyboards and wanted “to see what all the fuss is about with that cute wizard boy.” For context, my mother and I have done this sort of thing in the past with certain RPGs (dragon age, mass effect, etc.), but it’s been a few years since she’s personally requested a game like this. Basically, I control her Tav but let her make all the choices so she can determine how the story plays out without worrying about mechanics. She treats it like a choose-your-own-adventure book.
Anyway, here is a list of some of the things my mother has said and/or chosen to do throughout the course of BG3 in no particular order:
She is (obviously) romancing Gale. She is quite smitten with him and his passion for books and learning; she also thinks he’s polite and qualifies as “relationship material.” She also REALLY likes the things he’s said about his cat so far (my mom is a cat lady), so I know she’s gonna flip shit when we meet Tara in Act III.
She’s playing a normal druid Tav with a generally good alignment. Her favorite spell is Spike Growth because she thinks it’s hilarious whenever enemies walk into the AOE and die. I usually end up having to cast it at least once per battle per her request. Sometimes twice.
Contrary to her alignment, my mother tasks me with robbing every single chest, crate, barrel, and burlap sack we come across; this also includes people and their pockets. The party is always at max carrying capacity. ALWAYS. She doesn’t like selling things because “what if I need them.” The camp stash is in literal shambles. There is no hope of organizing it. She’s got like fifty seven sets of rags and a billion pieces of random silverware.
She MUST talk to every animal and corpse in the game. I think five hours of her total playtime so far (47ish) has been spent speaking to animals as many times as humanly possible. Like, I was thorough in my own playthroughs, but this is on a whole other level.
She did NOT get Volo’s lobotomy, but she did let Auntie Ethel take her eye in hopes of a cure for the tadpole. I did not understand the logic then. I still do not understand it now.
She is far more interested in fashion than equipment stats. Do you have any idea how much gold I’ve had to spend on dyes just to make things match? SO much. Same vibe as that “please someone help me balance my finances my family is starving” tweet but instead of candles it’s thirty thousand fucking bottles of black and furnace red dye.
We broke the prisoners out of Moonrise, but they got on the boat too early and bugged the fight by leaving Astarion and Karlach behind. Wulbren Bongle somehow got stuck in combat mode even after engaging the cutscene on the docks below Last Light; he he kept trying to run ALL THE WAY BACK TO MOONRISE nine fucking meters at a time while I frantically tried to finish the fight with the Warden, otherwise Wulbren would have run straight into the shadow curse. (I would’ve let him go; fuck Wulbren Bongle, all my homies hate Wulbren Bongle. But my mom didn’t know that, and she wanted to keep him safe. So.)
She had me reload a save like eighteen times to save the giant eagles on top of Rosymorn Monastery. Wouldn’t even let me do non-lethal damage just to get past things. I think getting that warhammer for the dawnmaster puzzle took us like an hour and a half alone. (Yes, I know you can use any warhammer, but SHE didn’t.)
She’s started keeping an irl notebook to keep track of her quests between play sessions. She writes down ideas and strategies when she thinks of them during the week, then brings them to her next game session at my house. I think she wrote about three pages on possible approaches to the goblin fortress alone.
She insists that I pet Scratch and the owlbear cub before every single long rest, no exceptions. Sometimes I have to do it multiple times until she is absolutely sure that the animals know exactly how much she loves and cherishes them. She has also commissioned a crocheted owlbear plush from a friend of hers and is very excited.
I’m sure there’s a bunch of stuff I’m forgetting, but those are some fun things I thought of. She’s enjoying the game and is telling all of her retired friends to get it and play it for themselves. She asked me “what is Discord” yesterday and I think my life flashed before my eyes.
anyway shout out to my mom for being neat
Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5
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f1goat · 15 days
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roommates ; lando norris + part one
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In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.
masterlist - playlist
lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: nothing much yet expect that Lando is a player + i don't proofread + smut will come next chapters!
“You’re kidding me.”
Max is standing in front of you, he can barely withhold his laugh. You can see the first signs of his laugh by the way his mouth corners are up. You’re not focused on your brother and his stupid laugh, you’re focused on his best friend. Lando Norris, who’s holding out his hand to you with a silver key in it. You can only hope that this is some sort of prank, but it doesn’t seem like it.
“No,” Max tells you, “We’re getting renovations and the backup apartment only has two bedrooms.”
“I can sleep on the couch?” You offer hopeless. 
“Lando has a room for you,” your brother replies, “and he’s barely home, so what’s the big deal?”
“He’s Lando,” you sigh annoyed. 
Lando has been silent before, but this time he speaks up as well. Almost annoyed he grunts, “He’s standing here. You should be grateful instead of acting like a -” “Lando,” Max is quick to interrupt him. Now that Lando thinks back about the words he was going to say, maybe it’s better that Max interrupted him. Calling you a brat who needs to get laid, by him, wouldn’t make him more popular by you. Oops. 
“See,” you say with an annoyed look at Lando, “I’ll book a hotel because this is the worst idea ever.” 
“You’re going to live in a hotel room in Monaco for a good month or two?” Max asks you surprised, “I’m not paying for that.” 
“Babygirl,” Lando starts. You try to silence him with a angry glance, but it doesn’t work. Since the last couple weeks he keeps calling you babygirl, princess or some other terrible nickname. You can’t get him to stop. “I’ll behave,” Lando continues.
“See?” Max asks you with the same tone you used with him earlier. 
“Until you beg me to misbeha-” 
“Lando for fucks sake,” Max grunts while interrupting his friend again. “I told you it was a bad idea for you to be included in this conversation, you’re only making things worse.”
Lando finally gets the hint and walks away from the room, leaving Max and you alone to talk about all of this. When he’s standing in the hallway, he can’t help himself to stay close by the door. Maybe he can hear something of what you’re saying. In the mean time he looks at his phone, he notices multiple new messages on different platforms. When he opens a couple snaps he’s greeted with nudes from girls he barely recognizes, sometimes with the question when they will see him again. It annoys him. There aren’t many girls who understand that a one night stand is for only one night. He ignores the snaps. 
“Max you can’t expect me to live with him,” you tell your brother angrily, “He’s a literal man whore.  I will probably stay awake every night that he’s home because he always brings some girl with him.”
“I bet that if you ask him to be a bit more quiet, he’ll do so,” Max disagrees with you.
“Still,” you sigh, “We don’t like each other. Lando and I aren’t friends like the two of you. We’re always arguing.” 
“Why don’t you like Lando?” Max asks you, “I mean, you’re often the one who starts with the arguments.”
“That’s now!” You quickly defend yourself, “Earlier it was always Lando who started things. Whenever you left he would always tease me with something.”
Max doesn’t reply this time. You continue to whine about living with Lando. “Can’t you live with Lando? I’m sure Kelly would like it if I’m taking your place.” This time Max chuckles, but he still shakes his head.
“I don’t have another solution then this,” Max tells you eventually. He doesn’t tell you that Lando begged him to let you stay at his place during the renovations. Max also doesn’t tell you that he probably can rent you another apartment for a while, or could have found a place for himself, Kelly, Penelope and you. Lando owns him a lot after this. 
“Am I really going to live with Lando?” 
“Just for a while,” Max replies with a small smile. It seems like you finally agreed. 
Lando is smiling even more on the other side of the door. He’s glad that he’s standing here and hears this. His plan worked. At least, the first step of like a billion steps worked out for him. When he hands you his keys five minutes later, the smile is still plastered on his face. 
+++
“We need some ground rules.”
Lando looks away from the street in front of him to throw a short look at you. The two of you are sitting in his car, much to your disliking. He waited at Max his place until you were done with packing so he could take you with him. While packing your stuff, you kept wondering why you decided to live with Max in Monaco, since it caused this drama. 
“Ground rules babygirl?” Lando asks you. He tries to focus on the road again, but he feels distracted with you this close next to him. 
“Rule one, no more calling me babygirl,” you mutter annoyed. 
“Nope,” Lando is quick to answer. 
Before you can say anything else, Lando speaks up again. “Let’s talk about your rules later, I’m trying to focus on driving.”
“Didn’t know that a formula one driver had trouble with normal car driving,” you mutter. 
Lando laughs softly. You’re without a doubt the most annoying girl he knows, but he wants nothing more then to make you his annoying girl. That can’t be good. It really can’t be. You on the other hand aren’t laughing, you’re still annoyed by everything that happened and is going to happen. You try to distract yourself by wondering about Lando his apartment: how would it look? You expect it to be all manly. Probably no decor, only formula one stuff and more like that. 
When Lando parks his car in an underground garage, he’s quick to tell you about how things work in the apartment complex. “If you want, you can park your car here as well,” he tells you after giving a whole explanation about getting in the garage after hours. 
“I don’t have a car,” you tell Lando, “I always used one of Max’s.”
“Oh, you can use one of mine then if you need a car,” Lando simply states without even thinking about it. You don’t know what to say. When looking at the multiple cars that are parked on spots that match with Lando his apartment number, you can only wonder what they cost. He is really offering you to use his expensive cars whenever you like? “I’ll show you where the keys are later,” Lando continues, “you don’t have to ask if you want to use them.”
“You’re kidding right?” You ask surprised. Lando is already shocking you. Normally the two of you are always bickering, mostly because of you, so it doesn’t make any sense to you that he’s offering something big like this. 
“No babygirl,” he replies, “you can use every one of them.”
“Even your McLaren?” You ask while looking at the special McLaren that Lando owns. 
“Even the McLaren.”
You can’t stop yourself and grin. This is a nice thing. Max is always really protective over his cars, certainly the ones who mean a bit more to him or were more expensive. Lando doesn’t seem to care as much. You already can’t wait to try his cars. 
Together with Lando you use the elevator to get to his floor. You’re getting more curious about Lando his apartment. Lando on the other hand is thinking about something else. He wonders about how you will be in his apartment. Since Max told him about those renovations, he couldn’t help himself and kept imagining living together with you. Seeing it as his big chance to finally show you that he’s not some little boy anymore and maybe to connect a bit more with you. He hopes that he finally can make sure that you get to know the real him. But he doesn’t have a plan for that yet. 
When Lando opens the door and drags your suitcase inside with him, you feel the reality of the situations washing over you. This is it. You’re really living with Lando for now. It feels weird. Lando and you have a complicated past. It’s not as bad as it was before, but you do have a strong opinion about him. And it’s not a positive one. 
You remember all those discussions between Lando and you. The times he teased you until you exploded at him. Or the times you started it and made him crazy. Before it could be simple, but when Lando started his ‘fuck boy era’ - at least, that’s how you call it, you’re even more annoyed by him. Every time he comes over he seems to have some sort of story about a random girl who landed in his bed. It annoys you. 
“So, what do you think?” Lando pulls you out of your thoughts. Slowly you walk inside his apartment. It’s big. Even bigger then you already expected. About the other things you were kinda right. The interior is nice, but it seems basic. He probably called a specialist once, who made sure he has a nice interior. It’s not bad, but it’s not personal. You miss the simple personal touches. It feels a bit stoic. 
“Looks good,” you tell Lando. 
“And now your honest opinion?” Lando sees right through you. 
“It’s nice,” you say before being honest, “but I miss the personal touches.” 
Lando smirks. “Maybe you can take care of that one day,” he jokes. Or better said, he says it like it’s a joke but he would love it if you would actually make his apartment more homey. But you can start with being here. 
“Let me show you the rest,” Lando tells you. He grabs your arm and takes you with him. You’re surprised by the way he searches physical contact with you. Even more surprised with the way it feels. Lando shows you the apartment. You’re quick to find out which room has a few personal touches, his game room. If you should call it that at least. Multiple helmets and trophies are standing in shelves leaning on the walls. 
Lando doesn’t give you a lot of time to look around at his personal belongings. The same thing happens with his own bedroom. You can barely see his bed and then he closes the door again. He takes you with you to the bathroom, before finally showing you the guest bedroom. 
“Think this is okay?” He asks you a bit nervous. You don’t notice the nervous tone in his voice. Slowly you look around in the guest room. It seems nice. There’s plenty room for all your stuff and the bed seems pretty comfortable. You even spot some fresh flowers on the bedside table. Did Lando get those? You can’t imagine it, it must be the doing of his cleaner or something. 
Lando sees the way you look at the fresh flowers. He wonders what you’re thinking right now. You probably don’t think that he has bought them himself. He knew beforehand that if you would move in with him, that it would happen today. So earlier this morning he went to the flower shop to get some fresh flowers for your room. Hoping it would make you feel a bit more at home. He doesn’t tell you that he bought them. You probably won’t believe him anyway. 
“Yeah,” you reply to Lando earlier question, “this is fine.”
“I hope you don’t snore,” Lando jokes, “the walls are thin.”
“Then I hope you don’t take a girl with you every night,” you throw back. 
“Jealous?” Lando questions you with a raised eyebrow. 
“All though, I don’t think I’ll hear the girl much,” you continue, “You’re probably more concerned about your own pleasure.”
“Fucking hell babygirl,” Lando grunts annoyed, “Just wait until you find out how concerned I am about your pleasure.” 
You try to withhold any sort of reaction to be shown. Inside you’re going crazy. Lando always makes remarks that are a bit on the bold side, but he never made them this sexual. Fuck. You can’t think about stuff like this. 
“That brings me back to my earlier statement, we need some rules,” you tell Lando.
“I need rules in my own home?” He asks you surprised. Of course he knew this was coming, but after your remarks Lando isn’t making this easy for you. 
“Yes,” you sigh, “because otherwise we’re going to fight every day.”
“Maybe I like that,” Lando continues to annoy you. 
You let out a sigh. Lando lets out a soft chuckle. It’s so easy to tease you. He knows he should stop, but you know what they say, right? Boys always tease the girls they like the most. He walks back to the living room with you and offers you something to drink before getting on the couch next to you. 
“What rules do you suggest, babygirl?” He then asks you. 
“One, no more calling me babygirl,” you tell him just as you did earlier today.
“Nope,” Lando states, it’s the same answer he gave you the first time. You don’t react to his no, you continue with the rest of your rules. 
“Rule number two, I don’t want to meet every other girl you bring here,” you say. 
“Afraid you’d get jealous?” Lando asks you teasingly. He can only hope that it’s like that, but he knows better. You’re not jealous of those girls. He understands this rule, it would be a mess if he needed to explain to every girl why you’re living with him and that you’re not his girlfriend. Plus, maybe he should stop bringing this many girls to his apartment. His phone is blowing up by the ones who he gave his number, a lot of them expect something more - while he made clear it would be a one time thing. And maybe, really maybe, it’s not fair for those girls that he uses them to forget about you for a bit. 
Some stupid plan that doesn’t even work anyways. Every time a girl is laying underneath him, he can only imagine that it’s you. He wonders how it would feel when it was actually you. How you would sound. There have been many girls, but he thinks about the same girl every time. You. 
“That’s okay,” Lando responds to your rule, “I’ll try.”
You nod satisfied. “And maybe you can also tone it down a bit with the sexual remarks towards me?” You ask him after your succes.
“No, no,” Lando quickly replies, “I want to say to you what I think.” 
You roll your eyes, but don’t say anything else on the subject. “How do you want to do this Lando?” You ask him eventually. “Do you want to live together or next to each other? Want to have dinner together or? I really don’t know how this can work.”
“Let’s try to live together,” Lando tells you hopefully, “We can have dinner together and inform each other a bit about when we’re home or not.”
“Sure?” You ask surprised. You expected him to chose the other option.
“Sure babygirl.”
+++
That evening the two of you decided that Lando could have a cheat day with his healthy diet. Together you ordered some take out. 
“Remember when you DM’ed this girl to get McDonalds with you,” you tease when Lando offers to order some McDonalds. He sends you an angry glare. “She didn’t seem to interested,” you continue to tease. 
“Are you going to eat McDonalds with me or not?” Lando asks you annoyed, “because otherwise I’ll find a girl who will.”
After eating together, you decided to test out the bathroom by taking a shower. When you walk in nothing more then a small towel wrapped around your body back to your bedroom, you decide that you will unpack and organize tomorrow. For now you only need to find something to sleep in. You rummage through your bagage, but there’s no pyjama in sight. Fuck. Clothes are quickly scattered around on the bedroom floor. 
“Fuck,” you mutter. 
You wonder if Lando has something you can wear for tonight, tomorrow you can get your other stuff. In nothing more then a towel on your body, you walk out of your room and start to search for Lando. You hold the towel closely to your body, not wanting to flash Lando. He isn’t in the living room or kitchen, you continue to search. When you hear noises coming out of his game room, you softly knock on the door. 
“Lando?” You ask while knocking again. 
In no time the door is opened. Lando is standing in front of you. You feel a bit distracted when you look at Lando. In some weird way you can’t stop looking at him. The earlier hoodie he was wearing has made place for a white blouse. It suits him. He looks so fine. Fuck. 
“Can I borrow one of your shirts?” You ask him.
Lando doesn’t know what to think, or what to say, or what to do. His eyes are glued on the towel that’s wrapped around your body. Is it really the only thing you’re wearing right now? He can’t even think or function properly right now. He can’t look away from your almost bare body. Fuck, he already knows what he’s thinking about the next couple times while trying to orgasm. Your body looks even better then he already thought. He notices your curves and the way the towel accentuates them even more.
“Did you hear me?” It’s your voice that pulls him out of his thoughts.
“Oh no sorry,” he quickly mutters. He tries to look you in the eyes, but his eyes keep hanging on your body. He focusses on your breasts which are almost in his sight. It’s not hard to miss that you’re a bit cold, your nipples are coming through the towel. 
“I wondered if you have something for me to sleep in?” You ask Lando again, surprised he didn’t hear you the first time. “I forgot my pajamas at home.”
“Of course,” Lando quickly replies. He takes you with him to his bedroom and searches through his closet for a bit. When he found a particular shirt, he’s quick to hand it to you. It’s not a coincidence that he chose a shirt with his name all over it. He hopes he’s going to see you into it. Within seconds you have left him alone again. 
Lando sighs and walks back to the other room. This is going to be hard for him, but he can only hope that he’ll manage to win your heart eventually. When his phone vibrates, he quickly looks at it. 
Max: Explain how I’m FaceTiming with Y/N and seeing her in one of your shirts already???
writers note ; don't really know yet how i'm going to write this one, so every idea is welcome :) let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! ps; i changed the playlist link to a new one
part two
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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 19] || [Chapter 21]
Rating: E Pairing: Gaz x Reader x Ghost x Soap || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 2.1K~ cw: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, protected sex, ejaculation, voyeurism (in person and digital). Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: he's their (under)boss for a reason.
My dumbass was in such a hurry I forgot to tag my lovely @mothymunson who encouraged me to write this when I was lost where to fit it + gave me extra ideas for the dynamic! 🫶
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Chapter 20: Control
It’s been two weeks since that lazy Sunday you spent with Johnny. He had to leave in a hurry, departing on a mission, unable to tell you where he’d be going or when he’d be back…
Simon and Kyle were already on a mission of their own by Sunday so… You’ve spent these last two weeks alone.
It’s been quiet without them… And frankly… a bit lonely.
You used to like having time to yourself after the break-up… But now?
You’ve been with Leah and Mia for dinner a couple times… And although you love your girlfriends, and enjoyed yourself greatly while gossiping with them (and my, my, did you gossip) you find yourself missing Simon, Kyle and Johnny.
It’s 5:30 P.M. on Wednesday and you’re in your kitchen, making something quick for dinner, when there’s a knock on your door.
Eyes squinting in surprise at the lack of expected guests, you immediately think the worst. It’s Ethan. It’s Ethan and he’s pissed that Johnny and Simon fucked him up and he’s here for revenge and you’re alone and-
“Sweetheart, it’s me.” Simon’s voice from the other side of the door relaxes you and you rush across the sitting room and pull open the door.
“Bloody hell, you spooked me!” You say softly as you look up at him. He’s still in full gear and slightly out of breath, as if he ran over to your house the moment he landed on base.
“Hi!” You greet as he pulls off his mask and wraps his arms around you. He steps inside, making you step back with him as he spins you and kisses you, closing the door behind him.
You feel him guide you over to the living room couch and lower you onto it, making you squeal and giggle in surprise. “Simon!” You’re able to murmur as he lowers himself atop of you.
“Missed you… missed you…” He grumbles as he kisses you again, one of his hands on your hip, the other supporting his weight on the throw pillows by your head.
“Missed you too…” You admit, causing him to groan under his breath. His fingers find the straps that hold his vest in place and he quickly undoes them and takes it off, dropping it haphazardly on the floor next to you.
“Simon…” You whisper before he captures your mouth with his again, his tongue finding yours and making you moan. Oh, how you’ve missed him… Your hands trail down his chest and arms, unzipping his fleece jacket and he allows you to take it off him, leaving him in a black t-shirt underneath.
Your hands trail down lower, finding the utility belt at his waist. Your fingers just barely graze the thick, hard bulge in his cargo pants as you try to undo his belt, but one of his hand sharply stops you by gripping your wrist with three fingers.
You pull back from the kiss, the two of you out of breath. Your eyebrows are lowered in concern and your eyes softened. “What?” You asked him softly.
“I’m not-” He trailed off for a moment and huffed before burying his face in your neck. “Not ready for that.” He told you softly. “My body isn’t… I don’t want you to…”
“Oh…” You said, a bit surprised. You had noticed his reaction had been the same he used to have whenever you touched his mask in the past… And if back then you didn’t probe, you certainly wouldn’t now. “Okay.” You told him.
“Can we just…” He trailed off and slowly grabbed your waist with his hand, grinding his crotch lightly against yours. It jostled you a bit and you bit your lip. 
“Yeah… we can dry-hump, Simon…” You told him in a reassuring tone, which only made him groan again and hump against you once more. 
You wrapped your arms around his shoulder and neck as he fixed his grip on you and rubbed his bulge against your body in the thin lounge pants you had changed into after work.
Just as you’re just starting to kiss again, with Simon murmuring more sweet nothings of how much he missed you, there’s a new knocking on the door. Simon groaned in complaint and buried his face in your neck again.
“Bloody fuckin’ hell… He’s fast.” Simon grumbled and pushed up to his feet, sliding off you and helping you sit up.
“Who…?” You asked, a bit light-headed from the intense make-out session.
“Kyle.” He complained as he fixed his bulge in his pants with his hand, while waddling his way over to the door and throwing it open.
“You sneaky bastard.” Kyle said to Simon and pointed a finger at him while coming into the flat.
“Hi, Kyle…” You said softly, receiving a ‘Hi, lovie’ in response as he took off his shoes.
Kyle’s also out of breath but, unlike Simon, he’s changed clothes. “Guess what, Simon here waited until I got in the shower before he ran off to come see you. Left me stranded back at base!”
You can’t help but giggle as Simon’s scarred mouth morphs into a smug, proud-of-himself smirk. “Oops.” He said.
Kyle gave the two of a you a once over. “Ah… I see. Someone was… eager, huh?” He teases and uses his chin to point at the obvious bulge in Simon’s pants.
The younger man moves over to the couch and stands behind it before kissing you on the lips just as hard as Simon did, taking your breath away and making your shoulders sag as you sigh in delight at the feeling of his warm mouth on yours.
Pulling back, Kyle licks his lips and winks at you. “Good thing I got here when I did, hm?” He teases and looks at Simon before returning his gaze to you. “Now we can really get the party started…” He adds.
-
“Oh… Oh, fuck…” You whine at the top of your lungs, your eyes rolling back with each thrust inside of you.
Kyle’s lying on the bed under you, his thighs spread as he has you in a full nelson. His hands hold you behind your neck, fingers intertwined, your knees hooked up on his forearms to keep you spread open.
Kyle’s big. Really big. More than you expected. Considering the only points of comparison you’ve got are John and Ethan… It’s not like either of them was exactly small, but Kyle’s constantly bottoming out inside you without having to throw his whole weight into it. He’s also perfect shaved, not an inch of hair on him… anywhere. Other than his face, of course.
Your bodies are slick with sweat and your moans and his grunts and groans echo in the bedroom. You can barely keep your eyes open and if it weren’t the fact Simon in your field of view, you’d have given up altogether.
Simon’s sitting across from you and Kyle, having cleared your clothes’ chair and taken a seat in it, watching you and Kyle with keen eyes… His large, rough hand is wrapped around his own cock, a long one, the tip red and angry. He strokes it slowly, almost lazily, as he watches you get properly fucked by Kyle.
Unlike John (and Johnny, as you found out during your bath), Simon and Kyle are both cut… And Simon has something that you didn’t expect. Piercings. A Jacob’s ladder, you’re pretty sure it’s called. Four barbells stacked on the underside of his shaft, which he only leaves visible for a few seconds every time his fingers uncover it.
Considering Kyle’s stayed quiet about it, you’re pretty sure he hasn’t spotted them, either from having his own eyes closed, or because you’re in the way. Either way, you don’t mind it, at all, that you get the view all to yourself, even for just a second.
The sight of Simon sat there, legs spread, his cock on display, his big hands and strong arms moving slowly as he watches you and Kyle is an amazing one… And hearing Kyle losing his mind behind you, too into the moment to succeed at any amount of dirty talk or at saying anything coherent just makes it better.
“Fuck… Yeah… Fuck… You feel… Bloody fuckin’ ‘ell…” Kyle grunts behind you as he keeps rocking his hips against your ass, making sure to plunge hard and deep inside you, not giving you time to breath before he’s bottoming out again, the pace unforgivingly fast.
You watch closely as Simon stops for a moment and shifts around on the chair he’s sitting on before pulling out his phone. He lets out a chuckle as he looks at the screen, then, he fidgets around with it for a moment, texting someone.
It’s barely a minute later when you hear the signature sound of a FaceTime call blasting from the phone’s speakers. Simon accepts it and aims the back camera at you and Kyle.
“Say hi to Johnny, sweetheart.” Simon demands, his tone surprisingly bossy, as he goes back to stroking his large cock.
“H-Hi, Johnny…!” You whine aloud, just barely able to speak without melting, your mind slowly emptying of all thoughts beside the feeling of Kyle inside you and Simon masturbating across from you.
Your breath is ragged as Kyle speeds up his thrusts even more, his grip on the back of your neck tightening and tensing up, his hips moving so erratically that it makes you squeal louder. “Kyle! OH FUCK!” You whine, eyes rolling back and your face wincing lightly from desperation.
“Slow down, Kyle.” Simon demands. “Slow and deep.” He adds. You hear Kyle grunt and he murmurs something incomprehensible in response as he does what he’s told. His motions slow and become more paced and calm as Kyle himself tenses up underneath you.
You notice how Kyle’s thighs tense up, his veins bulging and throbbing as he controls himself not to squirm, clearly trying his best not to lose it and to obey what Simon says.
“Mmm… that’s it… That’s it…” Simon praises, his eyes going back and forth between the sight of you and Kyle, and Johnny on his phone. “Nice and slow, Kyle…” He continues saying.
Kyle quakes underneath you, his breath getting a bit more ragged and you swear you hear him gulp down as he tries to be good for Simon and for you.
“Johnny’s enjoying it, aren’t you, Johnny?” He speaks to the phone. You can’t hear the reply from the Scot, but considering how Simon’s chuckling, the answer seems to be a yes.
“Simon… Fuck…” Kyle grunts. “This is… t-torture!” He’s able to get out, his thighs twitching and his arms tightening their hold on the back of your legs. “I’m going to- Fuck!” He grunts.
“Go on, pretty boy.” Simon teases. Something about the look in his eye, the little mischievous smirk on his lips… God, for someone who’s afraid of being touched, he sure knows what the fuck he’s doing… It’s almost intoxicating, the way he’s exerting control on everyone in the room and even Johnny over the phone.
You can feel the knot in your stomach tightening more and more as you experience all these feelings at once, your mind steadily clearing of any thoughts other than the prickling of stars in the corner of your eyes and the heat increasing more and more.
“Aaah-” Kyle hisses as he keeps moving slowly and deeply, gritting his teeth behind your back and huffing through his nose with barely restricted euphoria. “Fuck… Fuck…” He grunts. 
“F-FUCK!”  His voice shouting as he loses his composure and buries himself to the hilt inside you with a sharp motion of his hips… and another… and another… Completely disregarding Simon’s commands to go slow… And it makes your eyes roll as your orgasm hits, causing you to shudder and twitch… 
But, instead of moaning his name, you find yourself moaning Simon’s, your head unable to dip back due to Kyle’s grip on it, and forcing you to stare right at Simon as you fall over the edge of your climax.
Behind you, Kyle is losing his own mind, spilling his come in the confines of the condom… And you watch through a lidded, barely-aware gaze, as after a few more strokes, Simon’s cock throbs and twitches… before a few ropes of cum shoot in quick succession all over his lower stomach, which he had the presence of mind to lift his t-shirt out of.
The bedroom falls into complete silence as Kyle pulls out and slowly lets go of you, carefully helping get you out of the strained position that’ll likely leave your legs and joints sore the next few days.
“Good job...” Simon breaks the silence as he tries to catch his breath, his head dipped back against the wall behind him, his eyes lazily trailing the sight of you and Kyle on the bed, and then back to Johnny on the phone.
“Bloody fuckin’ hell…” You can finally hear Johnny speak through the speakers now that the room is silent. “You lot better repeat that when I’m not overseas and can join in…!” He quips, drawing laughter out of all of you.
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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):
@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark
@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket
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starkwlkr · 3 months
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it’s nothing new | sebastian vettel
part 1 part 3
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED
update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading! you can read it here!
“hello?”
“mark, hi.”
“y/n? it’s been a while. how are you?” the aussie asked. it had been years since you spoke to mark, but he always kept you updated. he sent messages about how everyone in the paddock was doing, which you appreciated him for.
“i . . i’m okay. is this a bad time to talk to you?” you asked. you suddenly remembered about time zones.
“it’s alright, i always have time for you. what’s going on?” he questioned.
“so i am at my sister’s house and i didn’t want to sleep the whole flight so i decided to read your book.” you replied. “it’s a beautiful book, mark.”
“thanks.” he knew there was more you wanted to say. “are you mad?”
“mad about what?” you asked. “what you wrote about sebastian and i? is that what you’re talking about?”
“well yeah. i tried to contact you several times. you wouldn’t answer my messages so i assumed you changed numbers. seb told me he didn’t care if i wrote it in—”
“mark, i’m not mad. i’m far from it. i just want to know if it’s true. did he tell you everything? the night he won the title, i mean.” you asked. you remembered that night clearly. you didn’t finish the race, but that didn’t stop you from celebrating with sebastian.
“he would never lie about you, love. i told him to tell you, just to get it off his chest but he wouldn’t. you were with someone else, it was wrong.” mark explained. “you know the day you announced your engagement, he hated himself for not telling you sooner. maybe things would’ve ended differently if he had.”
maybe . .
“does he hate me?”
there was always that possibility. but when it came to sebastian, he would rather die than say he hates you.
“he could never hate you even if you did throw a show at him and call him a cunt.” mark chuckled. “he still loves you, you know, he asks about you all the time and i have no idea what to tell him.”
“well maybe i could tell him myself . . do you have his phone number?”
after you were given seb’s number, you noticed he never changed it. you weren’t sure why, but you decided to text him instead of calling.
y/n
hi seb, it’s y/n. i know it’s been so long and i’m sorry for how things ended. i hope you’re doing great. i’m not doing too good right now. my marriage is ending so i have that going for me. i’m staying with my sister and her family. anyways, i hope you don’t mind me messaging you. mark gave me your number but turns out i still have it saved. speaking of mark, i read his book on the flight, it’s very interesting. i’ll leave you alone now, thanks for caring about me all these years.
after you sent the message, you didn’t expect a reply. it was as if he was waiting for a message this whole time.
seb
hi y/n. i hope you know i never forgot about you after all this time. i’m sorry about your marriage, i really am. i don’t mind at all that you message me, i never changed my number in hopes that one day you would. as for mark’s book, i hope you’re not mad, but if you need to know, it’s all true and i wouldn’t change anything. being with you made me happy and everytime i hear your name, i’m reminded of the joyful memories we shared. i have something to tell you, only a few people know. i plan to retire at the end of the 2022 season. it would be nice if you would come to abu dhabi for my last race. i understand if you can’t make it. take care and i love you always. (it’s nothing new at this point)
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@hc-dutch @lightdragonrayne @multiplefandomwritings @woozarts @jggykhug09090 @neivivenaj @kissesandmartinis @barnestatic @avythef1addict
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 months
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MAD MAN
A/N: he looked like a snack, his ce vibes were too strong to hold them back
base of the idea was by @harrysblackcoat
WORD COUNT: 1.3k
SUMMARY: You came to the game to forget about the massive fight you had with Harry a few days ago, but your alone time is soon interrupted by the man you've been trying to avoid.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
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You weren’t planning to come today. Well, you were, until about four days ago, but then the whole ordeal happened with Harry and suddenly you didn’t want to do anything else than stay at home, cry or either sleep until you forget about the shit you both said. 
It was nasty. You don’t even remember how it started, maybe it was because he got home too late, or was it because you couldn’t choose a restaurant again and it always drives him crazy.
You have no idea what started it, you only remember how bad it got. Screaming, shouting, saying the worst things you ever did and probably neither of you meant. But you said them and you can’t take them back. 
Maybe packing your stuff and leaving wasn’t your best idea, but you needed time and space. Harry has been blowing your phone up ever since, but you feel like you need just a little bit more time away from him to think about… well, the two of you. 
You’ve had the ticket for months and you didn’t have the heart to miss out on the game just because of what happened. So you pulled yourself out of your depression cave, aka your old apartment you still haven’t sold since moving in with Harry and came to the game. Now you’re sitting in your usual seat, waiting for it to start while trying your best to keep him out of your thoughts at least until the end. 
Looking across the stadium you see the VIP section and immediately, you fail at not thinking about him, because you think of how he is the kind of man that would be standing there, sipping on something fancy and expensive. 
Groaning you turn your attention to your drink, playing with the straw, but then you remember the time you explained to Harry why this is your favorite seat in the stadium.
“Okay, enlighten me, baby,” he smirked at you, pulling you to his lap after pushing himself away from his desk.
“It’s close to the exit, I can leave before the crowd gets moving, the toilet is 20 seconds away and the line is always short, because the one by the F stairs is more popular. And…” You peaked at him, checking if he was still listening and there he was, giving you his undivided attention with a cheesy smirk on his handsome face. “And the drinks are better in the buffet that’s behind.”
“Better?” he chuckled. “Baby, they are the same.”
“Nope,” you shook your head. “It’s less… watery.”
“Mm, if you say so,” he smirked and then kissed you, making you forget about what you were talking about just a moment ago.
You need to blink your tears away. You promised yourself you wouldn’t be crying during this game, that you wouldn’t think about how much you miss him and how even despite the fight you love him more than anyone. 
You dig into your bag for a tissue, right when someone tries to squeeze past you to their seat. The tall man inches into the row, his long coat brushing your knees while you’re still elbow deep in your bag and you faintly register that he sits beside you. 
“Here,” he deep voice speaks up beside you and you know who it is even before his hand moves into your view, holding out a tissue. 
“What are you doing here?” you ask, taking the tissue without looking at him. 
“Why do people come to football matches?” he asks back and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “I’m here because you wouldn’t answer the phone.”
“That might mean that I don’t want to talk to you,” you casually reply, staring ahead of you.
Harry exhales sharply beside you and his knee presses against yours, making you gasp.
“Y/N, I hope you didn’t think I would just let you slip out of my hands like that, right? We need to talk.”
“And you thought a football game would be the best place for that?” 
“This seems to be the only way to get you to talk to me, so yeah.”
“How did you even know I would be sitting here?”
“Because you told me this is your favorite seat.”
“I did not. I just told you I have one, I never told you it’s this one.”
You sit in silence for a bit, trying to figure out if maybe you did tell him the exact seat, but you get to the same point: you didn’t.
“I never told you, so how did you know?” you ask and finally look at him. His beauty strikes you, as always, the chiseled jawline, the slope of his nose, the curly lashes, he still takes your breath away. 
He runs his tongue across his lips and then looks at you.
“The drink,” he then finally says.
“What?”
“The drink. It really is better here.” You watch him and he continues. “I tried… I tried them all in the stadium and it really is less watery.”
He tried them all. He went around the stadium and tried them all to figure out where you’re sitting. 
“Now that you’re listening to me, can we talk?” he then asks with a soft smile. “Or it could be just me speaking, but I really want to tell you what I’ve been thinking about the past few days.”
“Okay,” you breathe out. “Talk then.”
His gaze lingers on your face, as if he is taking in every tiny detail before speaking up again.
“I fucked up, Y/N. I said all those terrible things in the heat of the moment and I regretted them right away. I didn’t mean any of them.”
“Not even when you said that all I do is get on your nerves?” you find yourself asking.
“You do get on my nerves, Y/N,” he says and you’re just about to open your mouth, but he is quick to continue. “You make me go crazy in the best way possible. With your silly dancing in the kitchen, the way you sing every song with the wrong lyrics and swear your version is the right. When you get mad at me for using words you don’t know the meaning of, or when you put me in my place when I’m being a total ass… you make me go crazy… for you.”
Your eyes are tearing up again and when his hand moves to your knee you lean closer to him, wanting more of his touch instantly. 
“I love you, Y/N. I never thought I could love someone this much, but you just always prove me wrong,” he chuckles softly and your hand finds his on your leg, your fingers locking together. “Please come back. I’m nothing without you. Come back and get on my nerves every day because I want to be a mad man, but only if it’s you who makes me crazy.”
Now you’re fighting the urge to cry like a baby. You love this man and you can’t imagine a day when you won’t. 
“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks. He reaches up and wipes them with his thumb. “I didn’t mean it when I said you must be fucking all your assistants at work.”
“That hurt,” he smiles bitterly.
“I just… I still wonder why you chose me,” you admit with a shrug. 
“Because you’re the one for me,” he simply answers, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. You take a deep breath and exhale it shakily before leaning in and kissing him. The game starts right when your lips meet, but all the screaming and clapping tunes out as you’re back in the arms of the man you love. 
“Do you want to move to the VIP section?” you ask. 
“Nope,” he smirks down at you. “This really is the best seat.”
“See? I told you!” chuckling, you just pull him in for another kiss before making yourself comfortable with his arm around your shoulders.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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leclerc-hs · 7 months
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marked - cl16
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Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: a request from anon ‘Charles marking you as his’ Warnings: smut, choking, language, 18+ Word Count: 546 Author’s Note: I apologize for it being short!!!! I think I want to attempt to write a short series maybe. Any ideas on what it should be about? ALSO HAPPY FERRARI LOCKOUT DAY. I am praying we can stay on podium today lmaooo French edits made by @shewantsvengeance!!!!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
IF YOU HAD to ask anybody, they would tell you that Charles was a rather generous being. He was always willing to provide help to someone in need. When your friend’s house had a gas leak, he provided her a space to crash for the time being. Whenever somebody needed a ride, he was the person to call. If you forgot your wallet, don’t worry he already covered it anyways.
So, when your apartment was deemed unlivable due to remodeling, he promptly extended a warm welcoming haven for you to find solace in.
The dynamic between you and Charles was a peculiar one, not yet falling into the category of an official couple yet possessing an unmistakable intensity. It was as if a protective aura enveloped the two of you; anyone daring to cast even a fleeting thought in your direction was met with a foreboding presence. Regardless of the official label, you were his. He was yours.
Which is how you found yourself here. In this present moment. With Charles hand gripped around your neck as you straddled him on the couch.
“Fuck,” he grunted as you hastily worked yourself over his cock. The deep groan he elicited had your lip quivering. His hands grasped onto your hips tightly, guiding you. “Gonna take it all, huh?”
“Gonna be a good cumslut for me, princesse?” He wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.
“Shut up and make me cum already,” you couldn’t help but bite back. He possessed a remarkable talent for teasing, edging you for what has felt like hours. It was torment, pushing you to the threshold of your orgasm but then denying it before you could jump over the edge.
“Feisty, hm?” his hands slipped back up to your neck, squeezing hard. “Don’t be a brat.”
Tiny beads of sweat started to form on the edge of his eyebrow, the veins of his neck visible. You wished you could take a picture.
You felt your hips start to lose rhythm as your legs grew weaker. You are a whimpering wet mess. “Can’t even ride me properly,” a smirk formed on his lips.
“Please, Cha,” you begged, currently on the verge of having a break down from the frustration. “I need-“
“Need me to fuck you? Can’t get yourself off alone baby? So useless.” He was laughing. It made your pussy clench harder. You didn’t even have to respond before Charles was flipping you under him on the couch. Your hands immediately grasping onto the back of the couch for support as he fucked you from behind.
He leaned forward, his body arched over yours, his lips found a place on your neck. With a deliberate intention, he sucked hard. No doubt leaving a dark purple like bruise on the cusp of your neck and jaw. Claiming you.
The mixture of his fervent sucking with the drilling of his hips was more than enough to send you teetering over the edge this time. His, right behind you. You were screaming, tears escaping your eyes as you felt yourself squeezing all around his cock.
You were both out of breath. Collapsed on one another on the couch. Completely ruined, that’s how you felt. The giant reddish purple on your neck was sore, Charles finger tracing it with a smile.
“Everyone will know you’re mine now.”
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disneyprincemuke · 6 months
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bother figures * fem!driver
being the designated baby sister of the grid by default is never as easy as you think it would be
pairings: alex albon x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, george russell x fem!driver, lando norris x fem!driver
warnings: ugh annoying men
notes: this is hardly funny but like i've had to take inspiration from my bother-less life rn so i'm like rly going through it rn LMFAO and it's almost 5am here but as far as i'm concerned, it is night time somewhere so teCHNICALLY i'm not late to an update!
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
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in the almost empty room, she sits in the corner seat as she taps away on her phone a message to reply to her siblings' group chat. she had arrived early for the driver's briefing and decided to take solace in the corner with a cup of hot chocolate.
she was enjoying the peace and serenity with the soft chatter in the background as she tried to lock herself in for the race weekend. that was until she felt a presence looming behind her with an aura she couldn't possibly ignore.
she slowly lifts her head up with a mean glare. she turns her head and meets max's blue eyes and sly grin. "what'cha doin'?"
she puts her phone on her lap as a scowl replaces her dead expression. "what do you want?"
"what are you doing?"
"does it hurt you when you see me and like... not do anything to annoy me?"
"yes, actually. i like talking to you."
"i just wanted to talk to ciara."
"now you can talk to me."
"but i don't really feel like doing that."
"why not? i'm here in front of you and not behind a phone screen. where's ciara?" he looks around, then at her with a beaming smile. "oh, would you look at that? not here."
"because she isn't an f1 driver."
"still not here to talk to you and provide you the joys of interacting with somebody face to face."
"max."
"(y/n)."
"times like these i remember you've got a younger sister."
"what's that got to do with anything?"
"you've mastered the practice of being annoying growing up, obviously. you're such a pro at it."
"how can you say that?" max cries, hand on his chest to feign hurt over her words. "i'm not annoying. please take that back!"
"you realise you made me stop my conversation with my lovely sisters because you saw me sitting alone."
max reaches out and pinches her cheek, grinning when blood rushes to her cheeks. "you were just looking a little lonely. just wanted to make you feel a little accommodated to, that's all."
she stares at him, lips pressed together. "okay, that's actually pretty sweet. i kinda feel bad now.”
“and you should!” max frowns, folding his arms over his chest. he leans back into his seat and rests one leg over the other. “you’re mean, you know?”
“i’m an oldest sister.”
“i’m an oldest brother.”
“i have three younger siblings that made me wanna shave my head bald.”
“that’s kinda crazy.”
“i know,” she sighs tiredly. but she smiles slightly. “but it’s kinda nice. with oscar and logan taking over those responsibilities growing up, we never had a moment of boredom at home.”
“cute!” max smiles. “if i lived with you growing up, you might’ve actually run away for good.”
“i could run away for good now if you’d like.”
“seb wouldn’t like that.”
“you’d have to deal with it. i’ll leave a note on my team’s fridge with your name on it.”
“you need to put the reason underneath. if not, your team will think you’re just naming the most handsomest driver on the grid,” max shakes his head in disappointment. “don’t wanna give off the wrong idea, you know?”
“if you say ‘handsomest’, it doesn’t need a ‘most’ before it,” she says, lips parted slightly at the atrocious grammar. if there’s one thing she can’t stand, it’s most definitely the reigning world champion making simply grammar mistakes. “you should get more sleep.”
“i do! i slept like 10 hours last night!”
“somehow i find that hard to believe with the bags under your eyes.”
“what are you two bickering about?” a hand lands itself on the back of her chair. carlos stands next to her with one hand on his hip. “i could hear you from the hallways.”
“damn, you should really keep it down, max,” she chuckles, sending him a shocked look before she clasps her hands together and rests it on her stomach. “you’re too loud.”
“i’m sure he meant you. you like… swallowed a mic as a kid,” max scoffs. he looks up at carlos. “tell me she was louder than me.”
carlos sighs. “you were loud on the same level, i believe.”
"see? i told you."
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"you're moving in with logan?" alex's jaw drops, the tiktok video no his phone left to play on repeat as the younger girl dropped the news that logan's moving into her apartment. "mate, what?"
she looks up at him with a confused stare. "what?"
"i thought you said you didn't want people talking about you like that?" alex asks, raising an eyebrow. "people will definitely talk if you move in with a man."
she presses her lips together. "you've got a point, i suppose. but logan's my best friend. we've been talking about moving in together forever! since i was 15!"
"i'm just looking out for you, kid. you should really think this through," alex sighs as he slumps his shoulders. of course, he knows just how close she and logan are on a day-to-day basis. but people tend to be quite ruthless with women and he just can't see this going any other way. "you know how people are."
she sighs, shaking her head. "i don't know. i just don't think people would pay attention to that aspect of my life. i still deserve to make decisions that wouldn't be at risk of scrutiny, right?"
she takes a step forward towards alex. she hadn't exactly thought of the public implications that this would cause her. all she knew was that they'd talked about this for years and were ecstatic when logan shyly brought up their conversation from years ago.
"that's the basic that we all hope for," alex frowns. "but you know how people are. you've seen how they treat you just being here. imagine the chaos."
"maybe i'll just keep it under wraps and hope for the best," she suggests with a small smile on her face. "that could work, right? i don't wanna have to put down something i spent forever talking about."
"if you can keep it under wraps, i applaud you," alex smiles, slinging an arm around her shoulders. "and i thought you've had enough of men - why are you still moving in with one?"
"to save money, really," she smiles. "and with kidnapper and stubby at home... i think living with another person is best."
"but doesn't logan like dogs more?"
"yeah, but kidnapper's taken a very weird liking to him. he doesn't wanna admit, but i know logan really likes kidnapper a lot."
"typical logan, really."
"you'd be surprised how much feelings that loser's holding in."
"oh?" alex smiles mischievously. "tell me more?"
"nice try," she scoffs with an eye roll. "i'm not spilling the beans about logan's love life. that's lore you've got to unlock the longer you race with him. just hope he's feeling friendly enough to share, yes?"
"so true," alex frowns. "but what if he's not friendly enough? means you are my only source for material to piss him off with. so, 'fess up!"
"can't betray my best friend like that, i fear," she frowns. though, her smile grows slowly. "but i can be bribed."
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a scowl carves her face as she stares at the roll-in whiteboard with pictures held up against it with sesame street magnets. she sinks into the plastic chair she's given and tilts her head at the men gathered around her.
"and that's why i think you should get the same car as me," lando says simply, recapping the marker in his hands. he turns to her with a proud smile after his presentation.
her lips part. "so that we can matchy and..."
"and fuel rumours," lando repeats. "i'm involved in too little drama this year. it's always 'no wins' this, and 'no podiums' that... i want more."
"that's not a very good argument," she answers slowly, confusion contorting her face that almost makes alex laugh. "i said that i want an easy car, not a supercar. i've made that clear to almost everyone on the grid, yes?"
"yeah, but like," lando whines, throwing his head back as he stomps a foot into the ground. "seriously? you can't do this one thing for me? i'm asking you a favour!"
"to spend big money on a supercar i have to drive like it's made of glass!" she laughs dryly, hands thrown in the air in disbelief. she looks around at the men that have forcefully pulled her out of her garage and put her in this private room, in this plastic chair when she could've been taking a power nap. "is this what i'm here for? you lot are trying to convince me to finally purchase a car?"
"as per logan's request," alex shrugs, sipping on his juice box. "he said you've been putting it off all year. the season's about to end."
"and you listened to that nonce?" she cries, pinching the bridge of her nose. "you guys are absolutely unbelievable. i can't believe i'm wasting my time here!"
george, sitting next to her with a picture in hand, points at the whiteboard timidly. "i really put in a lot of thought about a car you should get," he says softly, looking slightly disappointed that she's caught on a lot faster than they predicted. "can i at least show it to you? i don't have to present."
"aw, george," she sighs, shaking her head. "it's not another supercar, is it?"
"it's not, i promise!" he perks up with a small smile on his face. he turns to lando with a small scowl. "only lando did this presentation with his best interests in mind. alex and i took the task seriously - just hear us out!"
she looks between george and alex, contemplating if the brit is telling the truth. instead of getting up like she had initially planned, she leans back into her seat. "fine. if it's anything like lando's, i'm leaving immediately. i don't care who has yet to present."
"but this ferrari looks so pretty," charles frowns, turning the picture in his hand to show it to her. "it's matte black and all. i thought we could match."
"that is also a supercar."
"he's presenting last, so i really don't care what he says," george mutters, shoving lando away from the whiteboard. he picks up a big bird magnet and pastes his picture between lando and max's proposal. "so, i think you should get this super cute toyota car."
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @love4lando @sadg3 @bborra @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts
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xxblairexxss · 2 months
Text
Cookies!
Pairing : dad!Jude Bellingham x reader
Them : Angst, I think.
Word count : 2k
Jude had a bad day and it seemed like a cookie wasn’t enough to cheer him up.
I haven’t written in soooo long. Apologize for any mistakes. Might delete this one. I don’t know. Sorry! Should start writing more. 😔
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Jude and you were highschool sweethearts. Back when eveyone thought you guys wouldn’t make it because kids in love? Yeah, who would have thought you guys could pull through.
But you did.
There were ups and downs especially at the beginning of his career. Those multiple rumors and gossips came flooding all at once and you went from a normal girl to someone who was known to have a famous boyfriend. They ven called you “the girl who hit the jackpot”.
Some even called you lucky.
A few months after your marriage, Jude and you were blessed with a little girl named Aaralyn. Jude was a perfect father figure to her though to be honest, her arrival wasn’t really align with the immense growth of his career but he managed to balance it all out.
But there were still ups and downs.
The small little hand was flipping through pages of pages from your baking cookbooks whilst her other hand kept on tapping on her chin. Her soft little hums filled through the air.
“Have you make up your mind, honey?” You asked whilst rummaging through the cupboards to take out every baking tools needed.
Jude had been feeling under the weather these days. He tried to hide it from you as he always did but you always catch on it. You knew him very well.
And so did Aaralyn.
Apparently, your little girl was fully aware of it too. Aaralyn woke up this morning and came up with an idea to bake cookies for Jude because it was her favourite and based on her logic, whatever foods that made her happy, should made others happy just as much.
“Mommy, we… bake choco cookies!”
You let out a cackle. “You flipped through the whole book just to decide with a basic one?”
“It’s Alyn’s favourite!” Her small little hands started patting on her chest with a proud expression written all over the face.
“Of course, baby. Can you let mommy see the ingredients, please?” You were about to pull the book closer to your side but your duaghter was quicker.
She snatched the book back with her lips jutting out. “Alyn can read!”
“Okay, read it out loud while mommy gather all of the ingredients, yeah?”
“This one says..powder!” Her little finger pointed to the first ingredient on the list.
“What kind of powder?”
“Co— cocoa powder, mommy! This one..” The little finger then slid to the second ingredient.
••
Your little girl’s eyes widen when the sound of a car came from the garage. There was no other car that could have parked in the garage except for your husband’s.
“Daddy is here! Mommy, daddy’s here! We need to be faster!” She made a hop sound as her dangling little feet touched the ground and scrambled to get her princess plate from the cupboard.
“Use Alyn’s plate!” She lifted her pink coloured plate up high for you to place one of the baked goods.
The sound of the door slammed put your little conversation with Aaralyn to an end. There were no words exchanged as both of you stared at Jude. He threw his bag on the couch, the things inside hit with some of your daughter’s toys.
“Alyn, I told you to clean up your toys, didn’t I?” The tense in Jude’s voice was enough to make his mood known to the rest of the family members.
“Uh-oh, mommy wait!” Your daughter tiptoed to place her plate back on the kitchen counter before scrambling to the living room.
You were looking from afar as she straighten her arm to grab on her little toy whilst Jude was ignoring her existence, eyes solely on his phone.
“Daddy, can help me? Please?” Aaralyn mumbled a little as she patted on her dad’s laps.
“You should clean up your own mess. We talked about this yet you still refuse to learn.” He stood up, picked up the bag which he threw earlier and headed straight to the bedroom, leaving your little girl alone.
You saw she brought her little hands close to her chest, lips pouting as she stood there, completely baffled with what just happened.
“Baby, it’s alright. Mommy will help you.” You picked up your daughter’s toy box and brought it closer to the couch, Aaralyn then made a little noise as she jumped on the couch to gather all of the toys left.
“Daddy might be feeling a little sad today. I’m sorry about what happened, sweetheart.” You cupped on her chubby cheeks to give them a little kiss.
“It’s awright! Daddy will be happy after my cookie!” She squealed.
Your brows lifted, smile widen as she mentioned the main point of the day. “You are right! I forgot about the cookies. Should we bring it to daddy?”
“It’s okay! Alyn will do it.”
You trailed behind as she ran back to the kitchen, boths arms high up in the air to get her plate back.
“Be careful!” As soon as you handed her plate back, she already made her way to the room where Jude went.
“Alyn will come back after I make daddy happy!” Her voice sounded afar as she ran to the hallway.
Aaralyn’s pace stopped in a sudden as she nearly hit the closed door. There came a new problem as she couldn’t knock on the door whilst holding the plate.
“Uh-oh..” The soft little mumble slipped out from her mouth.
“Daddy? It’s me!” The back of her hand hesitantly knocked on the door as she took a step back, waiting for a response.
Jude heaved a sigh, arm propped up to cover his eyes. He wished a second for himself and he got was continous knocking sound greeting his ears.
“Daddy…?”
“Daddy!” She crouched down to carefully put the plate on the floor before bringing both of her fists thumping against the door.
“It’s me, Alyn!”
“What do you want from me?!” The inside of the door banged agaist the wall of the bedroom as Jude opened the door. There was nothing but tense in his voice.
Jude saw his little girl struggling to stand up straight with the plate of cookies right as he brought his gaze on her.
Startled by the sudden loud noise, some of the cookies in the plate fell onto the floor. Most of the perfect sized cookie now turned into little bits and pieces.
“Alyn just— just wanna give daddy a cookie…” Your little girl immediately cut the vexed gaze from Jude, her head hung low and she bit on the inside of her cheeks.
“You are making me suffocated. I need a fucking break and I can’t even do that in my house?!”
“Sorry daddy…” Her words turned into a mumble, lips started trembling.
Jude heaved a sigh when he spotted the cookie crumbles now all scattered on the floor. “Great, another mess. Clean it, Alyn. Now!”
Hearing the voice of your husband gradually got louder and louder, you immediately flipped the main valve. You barely had any time to wipe your hands as you scurried to the bedroom where you saw your little girl crouching on the floor, her little chubby hands quivered as she picked up the mess she did.
“Jude! What was that for?!” Fuming, you pushed him by his chest, tears welled up in your eyes.
“I just need a rest, Y/N,” He rolled his eyes with no hint of guilty.
“You could have just said so instead of cursing to my daughter. She did nothing wrong!”
“She should have just left me alone. No one gives a fuck about a fucking cookie right now! I couldn’t play for 2 months and you didn’t even ask me if I’m doing fine!” Jude responded back, not giving any sign to back down nor to tune down his voice.
“I know you aren’t doing fine. Alyn knows it as well. In fact, she knows it better than me. She planned all this. She planned a movie night, we waited for you to come home only to find out you spent a night at Vini’s without telling us beforehand. Alyn wanted to cook your favourite food. We did and you weren’t able to come home again. She then decided to bake her favourite cookies, thinking it could cheer you up only for you to shout at her face. Is it her fault that you have to rest for two months? That you had to lash it all out on her? Do it to me! Scream in my face, Jude! Do it.” Jude didn’t flinched when your fist repeatedly hit on his chest.
“This isn’t about you, Y/N.” He breathed out.
“So, is it about your daughter? Is that why you lashed out on her?”
Instead of saying anything else, he heaved a sigh and made his way to the bathroom.
You went back to where your little girl was sitting. The tears stain were immediately gone as you quickly wiped of your cheeks before crouching in front of her.
“Come, baby,”
Your little girl pulled her hand back from you and went back to picking up the crimbles. “Daddy— daddy asked Alyn to clean up this mess first or daddy will be mad again…”
Your heart broke when she kept her head low. Aaralyn always loved to make eye contacts, she had always been the mood maker in the house.
“Mommy will clean up the mess. Can you go back to your room, please, baby?”
“Daddy won’t be mad..?” She lifted her eyes and you were greeted a pair of puffy eyes, her cheeks were more round as she jushed her lips forward. She looked exactly like Jude and it broke the dam of your tears.
“Daddy won’t be mad at you anymore. Go back to your room? Mommy will see you once I clean this all up, alright?”
**
Jude clearly forgot what happened after. He was literally losing the grasp on time as soon as he woke up from his nap. The blanket was pushed aside as he grabbed on his phone. The brightness made him squint his eyes. The picture of you and your little girl greeted his sight.
3:02
Even in the dark, without him having to turn his head aside, he could still feel the bareness. He wasn’t sure what it was yet. Not until he tapped on the other side of the bed.
It was empty. Untouched even.
“Honey?”
His heartbeat gradually turned even faster as every call was left unanswered. You were a light sleeper. Even a slight noise could have woken you up. Soon as he left the master bedroom, his feet bought him to your little girl’s room. The light was left on but there wasn’t any sight of his baby girl too.
“Aaralyn. Honey?”
Jude went uneasy. His skin turned sticky as he broke intol cold sweats. Part of him wished all of this was just a dream. Before he reached the main door, he caught a glimpse of a pink coloured plate on the dining table with some sort of yellow coloured paper by its side along with a box of crayon pencils.
“Daddy’s
— Aarlyn ❤️”
••
You could have brush it off if it was only between you and him but not to your little girl. Aaralyn was clearly upset. Even when you packed her stuffs, she remained seated at the dining table, staring at her remaining cookie.
As you rearranged her folded clothes into the luggage, she came back into her room, looking determined as if she had to get something done. You let her be as she ran back outside as she took out her crayon set with a piece of paper from her notebook.
Unknown to you, she actually wanted to leavr a little message to her very first love.
“There! For daddy!” She mumbled, the crayon in her hand was slipped back into the rest of the set as she left the paper right beside her plate. Her little hand then rearrange the cookie right in the middle. Not before she took a small bite at the corner of it.
“Daddy will like it…” She murmured with a small smile on her face.
“Come, baby. We gotta go.” You called out to your little girl, voice half whispering not to wake Jude up. After all those things that he did, you dtill couldn’t believe he had the audacity to just call it a night.
“Okay, mommy!” Aaralyn hopped off the chair and ran to you as you crouched down to put on her shoes. As she remain still with her little leg on your lap, she sticked her index finger in her mouth, eyes locked at the dining table area.
“What are you looking at, sweetheart?”
“Alyn forgot to keep my crayon…” She answered.
“That’s alright. Just leave it be.” You picked up your luggage bag, your free hand locked on your little girl’s wrist.
“Mommy, where are we going? Aaralyn asked.
“Daddy needed some time alone so it’s just gonna be you and me.”
790 notes · View notes
declareqenius · 2 months
Text
some would sing and some would scream
summary: your girlfriends are two of the best mob bosses in the city. you and natasha were out for a nightly walk, both feeling restless as you awaited wanda’s return from a business trip. it was going well, until someone got the jump on both of you. 
pairings: WandaNat x Reader
warnings: blood, violence, knives, being tied up, stabbing, passing out
a/n: hey guys! here’s another one. i have no idea how mobs work, which is probably a good thing, but i hope it makes enough sense. second part, anyone? let me know what you think! wanda is barely here but is mentioned throughout. 
Part 1 | Part 2 
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It’s been days since you and Natasha have seen Wanda. Days, maybe a week, since you were both taken by the henchmen of an enemy family; the Celestials. They have nerve, you’ll give them that, but you know as soon as Wanda and the rest of your family finds your location, they won’t know what hit them. 
The metal chair is cold against your legs and the restraints around your wrists are digging uncomfortably into your skin. You know the more you struggle, the worse it will be, but you need to at least try. There are cuts on either cheek and one gash on your thigh- which is exposed because you decided to wear shorts that fated day. You started regretting your decision yesterday because they kept their torture room freezing, and although you reside in New York, the cold has never been- and never will be- your friend. 
Natasha sits next you in a chair identical to yours. Her restraints are different, though, and it’s obvious the Celestials know how big of a threat she is. She’s continuously struggled to get out of them and your heart pangs in your chest because part of you knows it’s because she hates seeing you hurt. 
Your girlfriend is safe from cuts and gashes and it’s all due to them wanting to get under her skin. They know of the relationship you share with the two powerful mob leaders, and they’re trying to use it to their advantage. 
Natasha doesn’t break easily. Neither does Wanda. Everyone knows this, including you, but Nat barely lasted ten minutes when Najma- the leader of the Celestials- started dragging the knife across your thigh. She begged her to take her instead, but Najma was quick to assure that any torture you faced would be dragged out. 
“Nat. Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep struggling.” Your firm voice cuts through the thick silence and leaves no room for argument. You’d stopped struggling five minutes ago when you realized it wouldn’t help, but Natasha kept it up and the redness around her wrists started to worry you. 
“I need to get out before they come in again. Need to get you untied.” Her voice is gravelly and preoccupied, and her plight is obvious. The only thoughts swarming her head are about getting you out of there unharmed. 
“And then what? You fight them off with nothing and we die trying to escape? We leave Wanda alone? She’ll never forgive us for that. We have to think about this, Natasha.” 
You’re honestly surprised how calm you were, considering the situation. But you know Wanda is on a murderous rampage and Natasha is going through anger induced anxiety at the mere thought of either of you not making it out of this, so you’re left being the reasonable one. 
“I am thinking about this, Y/N!” 
Her chair clangs to a halt as she stops struggling with a frustrated huff. You know that if the two of you weren’t in the hands of your family’s greatest rival, then your girlfriend would let her tears flow free. The only sign that she had any intent of crying before she remembered where you were was her red nose. 
“I’m thinking about it,” she says defeatedly, yet firmly. “Najma is going to come back any minute and she is going to harm you in unimaginable ways and I can’t stop her because I’m tied to this stupid fucking chair.” 
“Natty,” you say softly, “look at me, please?” 
God, you wish you could reach out and touch her. It takes a moment for her to find some semblance of composure so she can look you in the eyes instead of staring guiltily at the gash in your thigh. 
“Listen to me, okay? I need you to hear me,” you start, waiting until Natasha subtly nods her head to continue, “You aren’t going to tell them anything. No matter what they do to me-” 
“But-” 
“No. Listen. Whatever they do to me, I need you to grin and bear it until Wanda gets here or you have a secure plan to get us out. It’s going to be painful for both of us, but I’m a big girl, I can handle it, okay?” 
“Detka, I don’t know if I can-” 
“Natalia. I knew what I was getting into the moment you and Wanda told me what you did for a living. I knew it would happen eventually. There’s only so much protecting my knights in shining fedoras,” you give her a gentle grin at your joke, “can do. I need you to promise me. No matter how much pain I’m in. We need to wait it out. That’s all we can do right now, my love.” 
Natasha looks like she desperately wants to argue again, but you both know she’s only got so much fight left and she needs to save it for when Najma comes back. You try not to imagine what the leader of the Celestials has in store for you; which ways your body will be bloodied and scarred, but it’s hard when Natasha’s brain is going a mile a minute and the blood from the gash on your leg won’t stop dripping down your thigh. 
“Do you remember our very first date?” You ask, a small smile on your face as you look up at your girlfriend. 
“Malysh-” 
“Nat, please. I can’t sit in silence.” 
She sighs and looks away for a moment. To compose herself. You fear that sentence nearly sent her over the edge, but a moment later she nods. 
“Like it was yesterday. Wands and I had thirty minutes to clean ourselves up after having gotten back from taking care of something. We were so worried we were going to be late, and so we texted you that work held us up for longer than we anticipated. You were so patient with us. You still are so patient with us.” 
“Have to be with you two. Who knows what kind of trouble you got into when it was just the both of you parading around. Someone has to keep you in check, make sure you have something, someone to come home to. Both of you.” 
“And we cherish every moment we get to spend with you, detka.” 
Natasha says it so sincerely and it pushes you over the edge. Your eyes start watering and while it’s not a full-on sob, your tears do fall because you know where Natasha’s mind has gone. Where it has been this entire time. 
Then, it feels as if all the air in the room is sucked out. All the love you felt from Natasha moments ago is gone when you see her face switch to one you had only seen a handful of times. Your girlfriends try to keep you out of the business as much as they can, but you were still privy to some things. Natasha’s expression looked distant and blank, and you hear clapping from the far right corner of the room. 
Your heart sinks to your stomach, but you keep your features neutral. 
Najma. 
“Aw, how sweet. Quite a show you both put on. If this were reality television, my family would be rooting for you. Little lovebirds. It’s a shame your other girlfriend isn’t here. I’m sure it would spice things up.” 
“If she were here, you would be dead already,” you snark. 
“Dorogoy-” Natasha starts in warning, but Najma is quick to cut her off. 
“It’s okay, Ms. Romanova. She won’t be able to... joke around much once I’m done with her. I must say, I have been quite lenient and I am a sucker for a love story, but I fear it is time to get some answers. So, every time you refuse to answer one of my questions, your little girlfriend here will endure some kind of pain. Haven’t decided yet. Won’t decide until that moment. Whatever feels right, I suppose. Nod to let me know you understand.” 
Natasha nods. 
Your eyes bore holes into the side of her head and you hope she hears your pleas. Your reminders. 
“Good. We’ll start off easy, then.” Najma takes her knife out of her boot and slowly walks over to you. She places the tip on your upper arm. The way she’s looking at you, as if you were a turkey to be carved instead of eaten and enjoyed, chills you to the bone. 
“What is your name?” Najma directs the question towards Natasha. 
“Natasha Romanova-Maximoff.” 
“Hm. That’ll do. What is your wife’s name?” 
“Wanda Romanova-Maximoff.” 
These were all answers that Najma knew already, and you’re unsure of why she’s wasting time. Not that you’re complaining. The more time she takes to interrogate Natasha, the more time Wanda has to find you both. The only name Najma shouldn’t know is yours. Natasha hasn’t once used it since you’ve been kidnapped, and you figure it’s for a reason. Your only family is the one you were welcomed into when you officially became Wanda and Natasha’s girlfriend, but your name not being out there kept you safer. 
“And what is your girlfriend’s name?” 
There it is. 
You glance at Natasha, fully aware of the knife on your arm but deeming it safe enough to move the slightest amount. Natasha’s eyes catch yours and you don’t have to plead with her this time. Her decision was made the moment her green eyes met your own. 
Keeping your name a secret gives both of you a better chance when Wanda breaks the both of you out of this place. 
So, when Natasha moves her eyes from yours to look at Najma, you prepare yourself for the pain. 
The redhead doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. Najma knows it isn’t a question she’s going to answer simply by the blank determination written across her face. 
“Very well then,” the Celestial leader says, bored as she drags the knife slowly across your upper arm. 
You stare at Natasha the entire time. 
Natasha stares at your arm, and you know it is her way of punishing herself. 
As if being locked in a freezing room with no way out wasn’t punishment enough. Your girlfriend forces herself to watch as one of her foes marks your body with their knife. Their torture. 
It makes her angry and she clenches both her jaw and her fists to keep herself from pulling on the restraints, having learned her lesson twenty minutes earlier. 
Wanda will never let her live this down. 
You’re glad it’s not Wanda with you. She would have been able to kill everyone by now, but if they had put special cuffs on her and made her watch as they tortured you, you know she would have given everything up to ensure you lived. 
You appreciate how much your girls love you, but the family wouldn’t have been able to take that kind of hit. So, you’re glad it’s Natasha who is with you, and maybe you’ll get the chance to reiterate that to Wanda someday soon. It will surely keep them from biting each other’s heads off while you’re recovering. 
“Next question.” 
You can hear the Cheshire Cat-like grin Najma wore as she placed the knife in a different spot on your body. This time, your thigh, about two inches higher than the first gash she gave you. 
“Where is the Mind stone?” 
Again, Natasha doesn’t answer and you audibly keel over in pain when the knife creates an identical gash to the one that came before it. 
Again, Natasha watched the knife slide across your thigh. 
“Hard eggs to crack, but I have only just begun.” 
Now, Najma is in front of you and you barely have enough time to process the cool metal of the knife being dragged down your face. Your breathing is heavy, but you muster the most spiteful expression you can. 
“I would really hate to see this beautiful face marred, Natasha. It would be such a shame. She could pose for those magazines. I hear it is great work, but enough small talk. Maybe I won’t have to mar your beautiful face, my little paaltoo.”
You decide then that you only like Urdu when Kamala speaks it. 
“All Natasha has to do is give me the location of the Mind stone and your pretty little face will go unmarked. Don’t worry, it will only hurt a little bit. It’s more of a... reminder for your lovers.” 
Even if your girlfriend’s face remains neutral, you can tell she’s seething on the inside. You glance at her for a moment and you know that you need to stall more. Enough for Wanda to find both of you. Nat can’t do anything but not answer Najma’s questions, and eventually Najma will tire of the game she’s playing. Who knows what that would look like? You doubt she would kill you quickly and undermine the work she’s already done on you, but if Najma doesn’t have something to quell her violent hunger, you don’t know what will happen to you or Natasha. 
So, you have to keep Najma entertained. Interested. Piece of cake. 
When you know that her focus is on Natasha’s expression and not your “pretty little face”, you send a guilty look to your girlfriend. Better to ask for forgiveness later. Then, you muster up all your courage and remember all the times you’ve seen Wanda and Natasha interrogate people, and you speak.
“What makes you think Natasha will talk? You’ve gotten this far and she hasn’t said a word. Maybe she doesn’t care about me as much as you think she does.”
“Mm, you’re not going to get me that easy my little paaltoo, I hear how she speaks to you. How she looks at you. And how she seethes every time my blade runs across your delicate skin. The love this woman holds for you is insurmountable. Don’t think me a fool.” 
“You picked the wrong one.” 
“Excuse me?” 
Blood runs down the side of your arm and thigh and you’ve long forgotten how to feel the searing pain. 
“The wrong girlfriend. You should’ve picked Wanda. Natasha is tough to crack but she’s been through a lot. Wanda, though? Wanda has a heart of gold and the sight of me in danger would have had her spilling all of her secrets. Or it would have sent her on a murderous rampage and we’d be out of here already, but you never know. All I’m saying is that Wanda would have given you so much more than Natasha ever will.” 
Your nonchalance must have been jarring to both the women in the room, and you’re certain that Yelena, your best friend, would have been proud of you. 
“I’m holding a knife to your face and you have the audacity to judge my methods?” 
Najma pierces your skin with the point of the blade and it almost makes you laugh. 
“What are you going to do? Kill me? You would lose leverage over Wanda and Natasha. You wouldn’t give that up so easily.” 
“And what makes you think I couldn’t find something else they hold dear to them?” 
“You would be searching for the rest of your life.” 
It’s a big statement. Words that probably hold a lot more weight than anything you have ever said before, but you’re aware of what you mean to your girlfriends. How all of you balance each other out in ways that no one expects upon first meeting the three of you. In fact, you’re so certain of your feelings for them and vice versa, that if you make it out of this alive, then you’re going to propose to them. 
Wanda would absolutely kill Natasha if you didn’t make it out of this alive. Guilt would eat both of them up, but better one of you makes it out than neither of you. 
Another slash of the knife on your cheek and you can feel the sting of the blade as Najma follows all the way through with a flick of her wrist. 
“Natasha, tell you girlfriend to shut up.” 
“I’ve never listened to Natasha.” You’re a bit of a brat sometimes, it’s true. “Besides, I’m going to bleed out soon anyway. Then my lovely girlfriend won’t have anyone to talk to. That would be such a shame because I’m a gem.” 
You decide then that you’ve stalled long enough, and really all you did was give your already gushing wounds time to bleed even more. The light headedness is starting to catch up to you and you sincerely hope that you’ve done enough. 
Najma doesn’t pay any mind to your talking, probably realizing what exactly it is that you were doing, and instead she focuses on Natasha again. 
“I will ask one more time.” 
This time Najma positions the knife in front of your stomach and you don’t know if she’s going to stab you or cut you, but you’re not sure she knows either. Frantic green eyes lock onto yours as you get a good look at Natasha. Your eyes are calm as you try memorize everything from the way her braid sits on the side of her shoulder to the perfect shape of her lips. Fear pulses through you and you know that somehow it is not entirely your own, but you shake your head all the same. 
You will not be the reason your family falls. You will not be the reason that Wanda and Natasha have no home to go back to. 
“Where. Is. The Mind stone?” 
Nat’s eyes are pleading but yours remain blank and you know she has to bring forth years and years of training to look away from you and instead at Najma. So the woman holding the knife can see the defiance in her eyes along with her lips pursed in a straight line. Natasha isn’t going to say a word. 
The knife plunges into your left side and you don’t scream, you aren’t going to give your captor that satisfaction, but the sound you do make is enough to have Natasha looking away and a single tear rolling down her cheek. To your confusion, though, Najma doesn’t withdraw the weapon. She leaves the blade inside of you and brushes off her hands before grabbing you by the chin so you can look directly in her eyes.
“Don’t breathe too hard, my little paaltoo, otherwise a vital organ will be caught and I would so love to torture you more later.” 
With that, she lets go of you and walks out. You think that having to look into that woman’s eyes was worse than any of the torture she’s inflicted on you. 
“Natty,” you breathe, voice worn and your eyes wanting to shut already. You’ve never been stabbed before and the pain plus your other wounds is too much. 
“Detka, I’m so sorry,” Natasha’s voice breaks and your heart aches for her. 
“Shhh. Don’t apologize, my love.” Breathing is starting to get really hard. “Natty I need to tell you something.” 
“Anything, malyshka.” 
You know Nat is desperate to keep you talking. Keep you awake. Alive. You don’t want to give up just yet. Wands will be here soon, you can feel it. 
“I think,” your head lolls to the side for a moment, “I think I only,” you breathe in and out, “like Urdu when Kamala,” you swallow because your mouth feels really dry all of a sudden, “speaks it.” 
“Me too, detka. Me too.” 
You can feel yourself fading, and you don’t think the knife has hit anything vital yet, but maybe a nap would help lessen the pain. Just a quick one. 
Your head lolls forward and it jostles the blade a little. You can hear Natasha’s panic, how her voice wavers and breaks as she addresses you. 
“Detka, baby, you’re doing so good for me, love. You’ve done so good. I need you to hold on just a little bit longer, okay? Just a little longer. For Wanda. Please, baby. Need you to stay awake.” 
You blink your eyes open and muster enough strength to look up at her. 
“I’m so tired, Natty.” 
“I know, baby. I know, but I need you for just a little longer, okay?”
“I don’t know if I can, Natty.” 
Breathing hurts and blood is sticky. Your head once again droops forward.
“Please. Please, Y/N!” 
Natasha’s cries are suddenly drowned out by the door opening. You assume it’s Najma, because even in your drowsy state, you didn’t miss the fact that Natasha screamed your name. 
But then there’s an explosion and you’re able to open your eyes just enough to see swirls of scarlet red surrounding the room. You can’t hang on any longer, but you hope that Wanda and Natasha will forgive you as you finally let your eyes close all the way and your body slump forward in the metal chair you were tied to. 
The last thing you felt was Natasha’s hands on you, trying to wake you up, and the last thing you heard was Wanda’s agonizing screams.
780 notes · View notes
allywthsr · 6 months
Text
THE CRASH | (l.norris)
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summary: Lando and you fight right before the Las Vegas gp, turns out your nerves couldn’t take it after he crashes
wordcount: 2.4k words
pairing: landonorris x fem!reader
warnings: angst, the crash
notes: I loved this idea when I saw it in my inbox and could not not write it. Here it is, what do we think about this??? I hope you like it 🫶🏼 btw, please come talk to me in my inbox, I’m bored🥲
”I can’t believe you right now!“, Lando and you had been fighting all evening over some silly thing. What started as a small joke, turned into a big argument and you didn’t know how or what happened. All you remember was, that Lando had been tense all weekend and was sensitive to certain things, but you didn’t think he was going to explode, so he got all mean and pushy with you because he was truly agitated.
”Y/N, maybe you shouldn’t have begun to talk about this, I need to concentrate on my racing.“
The screaming you both were doing could probably be heard in the motorhome next to you, but you didn’t care. Lando was clearly wrong and he needed to get your point.
”You started this fight, so stop being a child! Just get where I‘m coming from, you‘ve been in a mood all weekend and you let it out on me, you‘ve only looked for a fight so you could let your anger out.“
”That’s not true! You put words in my mouth and twisted them, as always.“
You two rarely fought, but if you did, there was screaming involved.
”If you hadn’t put me on your jpg account from when you took pictures of me while laying in our bed, we wouldn’t be in this position. I clearly told you that I don’t want this, and you went and did it anyway.“
”It’s just a picture!“
”You read the comments, they hate the way I look, and especially in that picture. You promised me it was for your use only, and you betrayed that.“
”You’re making a bigger deal than it is, calm the fuck down.“
”I won’t! I want you to see my point here.“
”You’re not seeing mine either. It’s a stupid picture, you weren’t naked, you weren’t making a stupid face, you were just looking at the camera, without any makeup but you were beautiful, grow the fuck up and get over these comments.“
”Lando I think I’m going to leave, you enjoy your race, I’ll be watching from the garage but we need space from each other right now, or we say things we don’t mean.“
”You can’t just run away from this conversation, you always do that.“
”I can watch me“, and with that, you walked out the door of his driver's room and slammed it on your way out. Several McLaren employees looked at you with big eyes, but you couldn’t take it right now, you needed five minutes in peace, so you could calm down, and think about the fight again.
Just thirty minutes later, you sat in the garage and waited for Lando to get in his car, normally you two would come in together and he would be cuddly with you, kissing and hugging you until it was time to get in his beloved car, but today was different. You came in alone, way before Lando even had to be in the garage to finally get in the car, he was in a mood when Jose tried to talk to him about data, and when he finally walked into the garage to drive to the grid, he stormed right past you, not even looking at you. By then everyone knew something was up, he never hoped in the car without giving you a kiss. Jon gave you a questioning look, but you shrugged your shoulders and mouthed a ’later‘ to him.
You watched on the TV how he got the last definitely needed laps in and then got pushed by his crew to his starting position. This was also a thing that bothered him, P15 wasn’t something he was used to nowadays.
After the anthem, Adam joined you.
”What’s up with him? He‘s been off all weekend.“
”I know, we had a fight right before he had to go and you know how we fight. It happened over this silly thing and now he‘s pissed at me, I couldn’t even say good luck to him.“
You looked at Adam, he knew his son longer than you did, maybe he had an idea how you could solve things.
”Lando’s always been a stubborn kid, give him time and talk to him after the race, I‘m sure he‘s cooled down by then.“
”Maybe you’re right.“
With that you looked at the screen and saw Lando jumping in his car, going through the last things that he wrote down as his notes.
The engines roared and Adam and you put on the headsets, so you could hear what was said over the radio. Lando was driving around the track for the formation lap and stopped when he reached his position. You prayed that the start would be nice to your boy and he would get through without any crashes or touches. Even if you fought, you still wanted him to be careful and not crash.
The start went without any troubles for Lando, and this was the first time that you released a breath. After the start, Jon came over to you, to talk about Lando’s attitude.
”What’s wrong with you two? I’ve never seen you like this before.“
”We don’t fight often, maybe once every two months or something, and normally it happens when we’re home, but today it escalated when we arrived at the track. He posted this picture of me on his jpg account and I overreacted, he promised me that he wouldn’t post it and he still did. So I was a little angry with him when I asked him to delete it, he freaked out.“
”I‘m sure you can solve this after the race, don’t think about it too hard.“
He gave you a quick hug and you kept watching. Now it was lap three and Lando was fighting for every position. Every race was nerve-wracking for you, sure he was a good driver and the car was safe, but still, every time he sat in his car, your heart rate went up a bit, and you were scared that he would crash. With Adam and Jon next to you, you sat on the foldable chair and had your gaze on the many TVs in front of you, when he crossed the line and lap four began.
Adam mumbled something under his breath and you looked at him when you heard everyone around you inhaling their breath. Quickly you looked back at the TV and hoped someone other than Lando had crashed, but when you heard Jose with panic in his voice, asking if he was okay, you knew it was him. You grabbed Adams's arm, to hold onto something while trying to hold back your tears. Fear was written all over your face, and it only got worse when Jose asked a second time if he was fine and Lando pressed the talk button with his shaky hands. The heavy breaths made your heart sink in your stomach, and with the way he pressed the ’all good‘ out, he truly wasn’t all good. What haunted you most were his painful moans afterwards.
This was the worst scenario that could’ve happened, and the fact that it happened in his birthday week and after you two fought, made things only worse. He clearly wasn’t in the right mindset to race, and it was all your fault because you got irritated by the picture and the comments.
”I want to see him!“
”Y/N, calm down, he will probably be taken to the medical center and you know we can’t enter. He‘s fine, you know what he‘s like, he‘s tough.“
You looked back at the screen and saw how he was still sitting in his car, that wasn’t a good sign. Maybe he was too hurt to get out, you couldn’t just leave him alone in the medical center. With careful movements, he finally pushed himself out of his car, but he was slower than usual, he had to be in pain.
”I‘ll run to the medical center, I’m his performance coach, no one knows his body better than I do. At least in the medical areas, I can update you.“
You nodded continuously and pushed Jon slightly towards the exit of the garage. Now you were crying, it was all your fault, you turned away from any cameras and the big opening of the garage, so no one could picture you ugly sobbing. This was a way of crying that wasn’t pretty and not meant for anyone except you, and maybe Lando to see. Quickly Adam pulled you in tight for a hug, he was shaking himself, and you both needed comfort right now. His phone started ringing and you hoped it was Jon, but it was Cisca, she wanted to know if you knew anything about Lando’s health, but you didn’t and it freaked you out.
His arms could be broken and you wouldn’t know, if you wouldn’t see him soon, you would go crazy. After long fifteen minutes of walking up and down through the garage, finally, an incoming call from Jon lit up your phone.
”Jon, how is he?“
”He‘s okay, a bit shaken up and his whole body hurts a little from the impact, but he‘ll be fine. They want to take him to an actual hospital to scan him, to rule out any internal injuries.“
”I want to come!“
”Y/N, you can’t. It’s better if you wait for him in the hospitality, he needs rest.“
”No, Jon, I need to see him“, the tears were streaming down your face again, at the thought that you can’t be by his side right now.
”We’re already in an ambulance and on our way to the next hospital, we can’t fetch you.“
”I‘ll get a car.“
”You won’t see him, even if you come, he‘ll be in the scan and we can’t join him there. I‘m with him, he‘s not alone, I‘ll send you a picture.“
”Let me talk to him.“
”His arms are trapped under a blanket, and he got some medication to hide the pain a little, he‘s drugged up and talking nonsense. He wouldn’t get what you’re saying anyway.“
”Is that even safe?“
”Yes“, he chuckled, ”He‘s alright, don’t worry. The scan is just a precaution thing, we should be out in at least two hours.“
With a heavy breath, you accepted that you couldn’t see him in person right now.
”But please send me a picture of him, and tell him I love him.“
”Will do, and you’re going to calm down, he’s fine.“
”I‘ll try, thank you, Jon.“
You turned to Adam and quickly talked him through what Jon told you, before calling Cisca and telling her the same.
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Two hours later…
You just received a text from Jon, telling you they are in a car right now, that‘ll take them to the track. Impatiently you sat in the hospitality and waited for Lando to walk through the door, and when you saw him opening the glass door, you were crying again. The way the jacket was way too big for him, and his overall was hanging on his hips, made your heart clench, your poor boy. You ran towards him and hugged him tightly, while still being careful that you weren’t hurting him. He grabbed your hand and pulled you to his driver's room, where you were hugging once again.
You pulled out of the hug and put your hands on his cheeks.
”I am so so sorry that I overreacted with the picture, just because of me, you weren’t focused and lost the car to that bump. I will never fight with you ever again.“
Lando used the pad of his thumb to wipe away the salty tears, that escaped your eye.
”It’s not your fault, fight or not, the bump would’ve been there and I would’ve lost control. I‘m okay, yeah? You don’t need to worry anymore, and you definitely need to stop crying, because there is nothing to cry about.“
”Do you forgive me?“
”Of course, it’s all forgotten, I shouldn’t have posted the picture, and I‘m truly sorry. I‘ll delete it once I have my phone.“
”No don’t do that“, you put your head against his chest and breathed in his scent, Lando was closing his arms around your shoulders and touched the back of your head. Featherlight kisses were placed on the side of your head, and you two enjoyed the silence.
A knock interrupted you two and Adam was standing in the door, he tightly hugged his son as well and kissed his cheek.
”You should call your mum, she‘s worried sick.“
Lando nodded and grabbed your phone that you held out before dialing the number of his mum. After the quick talk, Cisca was reassured her son was fine and Lando wanted to go to the debrief. With his hospital bracelet, still on his wrist, he sat there like he didn’t just crash.
He was professional after all.
Until you returned to the hotel, you waited with Adam and Jon in the hospitality for Lando to finish his meetings, and when he did, Jon drove you safely back to the hotel, where you took care of Lando, so he was back on track for the last race.
taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg
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prismatic-bell · 1 year
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HEY EVERYONE
Do you enjoy the idea of Sticking It To The Man, but also you’re fucking tired? Maybe you appreciate the idea of direct action of some kind but ADHD, depression, or physical disability has made it nigh-on impossible for you to actually, you know, do shit?
Well, friends, allow me to introduce you to a small but significant thing you can do to Stick It To The Man while also benefiting your own mental health:
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I haven’t bought green onions in a year.
If you’re sitting here thinking “holy shit, Nina, those look like hell,” you’re not wrong—they’re recovering from some unintended abuse. They survived two weeks in triple digits (that’s upward of 35 degrees for y’all with the weird sciencey math units) while I, uh. Forgot to water them. The outer layers dried out to protect the inner layers and as soon as I watered these thirsty bitches they went
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They literally looked dead three weeks ago. So yeah, they’re not too pretty right now, but you wouldn’t be either, and they’re bouncing back nicely.
So, how to do this simple thing?
1) obtain dirt and a pot. You’ll want to do this first because the next steps go surprisingly fast. My green onions live in a 6” terracotta pot and some gardening topsoil, but you can use potting mix (not Miracle Gro tho, that stuff is trash), dirt from outside if you live in a place where it’s safe to do so, any kind of soil will do provided it’s clean and doesn’t contain pests (although most pests will leave alliums alone because they hate the smell). To be clear, because we love and respect our biosphere in this house, “pests” in this context means “bugs that specifically will attack green onions while providing no benefit to either the onions or any other plants you may have.” The pot is mandatory, however—if you want to do this year-round, you need to be able to move the onions inside/outside as weather allows/demands.
2) buy some green onions. You can skip straight to step 4 from here if you want, but if you’re planning to use them first…
3) cut them only to the tops of the white bits. In other words you ONLY want to use the green part.
4) put the white bits in a ramekin, measuring cup, etc. with some water. I’ve used things as big as juice glasses for this, but that’s really on the big end. Put your container in a window with some sun.
5) 3-5 days later, you should see about half an inch of root growth on the bottoms of your onions, and possibly the beginnings of a tiny green spear at the top. (Maybe a bit more, if they’re overachievers.) Plant them in your pot with just a bit of the white sticking up overtop of the soil.
6) water just a little bit, every other day. You want the soil to always be moist to the touch, but never out and out wet.
7) watch them sprout. This is excellent for your mood, by the way. Science says having and tending green things provides visible benefits to both your physical and mental health. We also know that making tangible things is good for your mental health, and green onions grow quickly, so you get benefits fast.
8) As they grow, you can reduce watering to three times per week because they’ll be able to store more water. The leaves will feel firm and “thick” (you’ll understand what I mean when you get to feel a properly-watered green onion) when they have enough water, much like a succulent’s leaves will get thicker and firmer when it’s well-hydrated, so it’s relatively easy to tell if they need a drink.
9) trim your onions as you need them! I try to never take more than 3-4 leaves in a week—about half a bunch—so it has time to grow more, but if you live with a bunch of people you can get around this by just starting more green onions. Buy three or four bunches and plant them all. They don’t go bad because they literally just grow until you need them. I’ve actually planned meals around “I have not used enough green onions lately and the leaves are bending under their own weight, I need to trim some tops.” Although the ones you see in the grocery store have open tops, you’ll notice closed spears on your new leaves, and these are completely edible. Yes, I regret to tell you they cut off and probably waste the tapered bits just for The Aesthetic. They’re just like any other green part of the onion.
AND YOU WILL NEVER NEED TO BUY GREEN ONIONS AGAIN. Just add a little soil now and again to replenish the nutrients.
Yes, they’re cheap. Yes, this is a small thing. But many small things added together are a big thing. And when you’re confident in your green onions, if you have the desire and ability to do more, there are many other plants you can grow from grocery-store starters.
GO FORTH. ENJOY THIS KNOWLEDGE.
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hayakawalove · 25 days
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Survival Skills
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Summary: Suguru has to go on a business trip, leaving you and Satoru to fend for yourselves. Will you be able to? A/N: I really really like this fic. I thought the idea of you and Gojo trying to figure out how to manage without Suguru would be very funny. I doubt Suguru minds caring for either of you, my whole thing about him is that he needs to be needed. Comments always appreciated!
CW: SFW, Fluff, Polyamory, Food, Teasing, Humor, Comfort, Light Angst, Suggestive Joke, Very Mild Infidelity Joke, Gender Neutral Reader, They/Them Reader W/C: 6,697
Credit to Benkeibear for the banner
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“Alright, I made some garden pasta for the both of you. It’s in the fridge. I also left out some recipes in case you guys go through that fast.” 
You stand next to the door, staring up at Suguru as he lists off the food he had left for you and Satoru. He was such a worrier, if you didn’t know any better you would think Suguru thought the both of you might starve the second he left. 
On second thought, you might. 
“Thank you Suguru-“ you start. 
“And I left some chicken in the fridge for tonight’s dinner. It just needs to be cooked, I already marinated it, it's that one you liked from-“ He interrupts you, his lips twisted in a frown. 
“-Thank you, Suguru.” You grab him by the arms, holding him firmly as you cut him off. 
Suguru stops talking, no doubt getting the message. You had been trying to get him out the door for thirty minutes now, you were certain the taxi driver outside was nearly losing his mind. 
Suguru peeks over your head, sliding past you to walk towards Satoru. He was laying on the couch, his long limbs hanging over the edge. You really should get a bigger couch. 
Suguru leans down and places a kiss on Satoru’s lips, almost melting down when Satoru lifts a hand up to hold the back of his head. The sight almost brings you to your knees. 
“Do you really have to go?” Satoru asks when Suguru peels himself off. 
Suguru hums before squeezing Satoru’s shoulder, turning around to face you once more. 
“Are you sure you guys are going to be okay?” Worry is etched into his face. 
“Yes, mom. We'll be fine.” You reassure him, even though the words feel hollow. 
Would you be fine? You and Satoru were grown adults, fully capable of handling yourselves. 
“If Satoru got an extra kiss, I want one too.” 
Suguru’s face relaxes into a smile as he leans down, placing a gentle hand on your cheek. His lips slip perfectly between yours. You have to fight the urge to drag him back inside. 
A horn sounds out, breaking the tender moment.The cab was still waiting. 
“Okay. Text me if you need anything.” Suguru speaks, punctuating each word with a kiss. 
The overt signs of affection soothe your nerves the slightest bit. Everything would be fine. And you wouldn’t be completely alone. Satoru would be here with you.
Your fingers tremble as you close the door behind Suguru, and an unnerving silence begins to take hold of your residence. It wouldn’t be silent for long though, not when you had Satoru in the house. 
“So what do you wanna do now? We could throw a rager and party till the cops show up.” Satoru proposes. 
You snort and drag your feet away from the door, bringing yourself to the couch. 
“We would need to have friends to do that, Satoru.” 
“Wh- I have friends, don’t know about you though.” 
You roll your eyes while he snickers to himself. Your foot nudges his leg, and he clicks his tongue. You wouldn’t throw a party, although the noise and commotion would have been greatly appreciated. 
“Come on, why don’t we heat up some of the leftovers Suguru made and put something on.” 
Satoru sighs dramatically at your denial of a party before sitting up. 
You dish out two bowls of garden pasta for the two of you, your stomach rumbling at the mere sight of Suguru’s cooking. Satoru puts on your favorite show while the two of you start to eat. The food tasted amazing, like always. When Suguru first entered your life, you were sure that eventually you would get used to his cooking, but no. It amazed you every single time you had it. 
At first, it was sort of nice having some extra personal time with Satoru. Being in a polyamorous relationship could be difficult at times, trying to navigate the best way to divide your attention. With Suguru on a business trip, the two of you were able to spend some much needed time together. You even noticed that Satoru clung onto you a little more when you slept, no longer having to share you with Suguru. 
When you wake up in the morning, the bed is decidedly more cold than it was the previous day. You turn your head to the right, Suguru’s designated spot, only to be met with air. You feel a heavy weight against you, long limbs tangled in yours. Satoru. His arm is thrown across your body while his bottom half is laying on top of you, his legs on yours. It was suffocating. But it was just what you needed with the lack of Suguru. 
You close your eyes and focus on Satoru’s breathing. It's a steady pattern, one that could lull you back to sleep if you weren’t careful. It was the weekend so realistically, you and Satoru could stay in bed all day if you wanted to. The idea sounded nice, but you needed something first. 
You jostle your legs, causing Satoru to grumble. You pinch his arm and he yelps, squeezing you tighter. 
“I know you’re awake, Satoru.” 
“No I'm not.” He responds, voice devoid of any sleepiness. 
“I'm hungry,” you whine “you should make us crepes. Suguru left the recipe.” 
Satoru’s eyes flick open and you’re almost startled by the blue looking at you. His hair was ruffled, an adorable look on him. 
“Why don't you make it?” 
The two of you could go back and forth for hours; this was why it was good to have Suguru there to cook. 
“Because I just woke up, I’ll make dinner when we run out of leftovers.” 
Satoru thinks for a moment, before dramatically groaning, pushing himself up. He’s wearing a loose white shirt with black pants, and he looks so cozy you almost felt bad for making him get up. You did need to eat though, and so did he. 
You trudge after him, plopping on a stool at the bar as you watch him navigate the kitchen. He looks confident, like he belongs there, even though you know damn well he hasn’t cooked a thing since Suguru walked into his life. 
You're telling him about your dream as he holds a mixing bowl, leaning his back against the counter as he listens to you while stirring the crepe batter. You decide on Nutella and strawberries for the fillings, the mere thought of it making your mouth water. 
“And then when we left the house, you got struck by lightning-“ you’re talking before he interrupts you. 
“Hah? You killed me off in your dream?” His eyebrows are touching his hairline, looking the slightest bit offended. 
“I can't control my dreams! You can't either. Remember when you had that spicy dream about-“ 
He rushes to cut you off, not wanting to be reminded of it. You weren’t sure why he told you stuff, he knew you would just tease him after. It wasn’t like he was any better. 
“Okay okay, point taken. Kill off Suguru next time though, yeah?” He turns around, and starts to pour the batter into a pan to cook. 
“Duly noted.” You remark, picking up a strawberry to pop into your mouth. 
Satoru faces you again as the crepe cooks, his fingers tapping his arm. He looked impatient. He usually was. You drag your eyes down his body before bringing them back up to his face, where you notice he's already staring at you. 
“See something you like?” He comments, a cocky grin on his face. 
“I do, you wanna go out some time? My boyfriends not home.” 
Satoru chuckles and walks towards the bar, leaning over in front of you. 
He reaches across it and grabs your hand, turning it over until your palm is facing up. He looks calculated as he stares down, running his thumb over the skin, light enough it almost tickles. A small smirk appears on his lips once he sees you squirming out of the corner of his eyes. 
“Wanna play rock paper scissors on who has to do the dishes?” You ask. 
He flicks his blue eyes up to you. 
“I’m cooking, why don’t you do dishes?” 
“Oh, so you’re afraid of losing.” You prod, knowing you’ll get a reaction. 
Satoru sneers and stands up straight with his hand out. You reach out too, noticing the size difference of your fists. 
“Ready?” You wait a moment. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot-“ 
You lay your hand flat while he keeps his in a fist. Satoru’s brows furrow while you grin. His lips twitch while he looks up at you and pouts, always a sore loser. 
“Two out of three?” He proposes, already getting his hand ready for the next round.
You jokingly roll your eyes and set your hand out again. Satoru’s looking at you intently, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth, eyes wide as if he could predict your next move. 
He was able to, apparently. 
“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot-“ 
You put down scissors, and his hand is formed into a rock. Satoru cackles and taps your scissors, happy with himself. 
“Don’t get ahead of yourself pretty boy, there’s still one round left.” 
The two of you get into position for the final game. There’s a distinct smell floating over to your nose, and you crinkle it as you look over Satoru’s shoulder. 
“Satoru, I think it’s burning-“ 
“Yeah yeah hold on, let’s go.” Satoru’s in the zone. 
You shrug and straighten in your seat. 
“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot-“ you recite. 
You put down scissors and he puts down paper. You chuckle as you snip at his hand. He juts his lip out as he grieves his loss, and you almost feel bad. The smell is getting stronger now, and Satoru’s finally picking up on it. 
“Oh, shit- why didn’t you tell me it was burning?” He turns around and fumbles, rushing over to the burner. 
You give him a deadpan stare, shoving another strawberry in your mouth. 
“Gotta cook, gotta clean, gotta do everything around here.” Satoru’s mumbling under his breath. 
“I know, you’re like Suguru.” 
Satoru dumps the burnt crepe in the trash before turning around, pouring more batter in the pan. You watch him from behind as he cooks, his hip popping to the side as he rests a hand on it, tapping his foot as he waits for the crepe. The sight was borderline mouthwatering. 
Once the crepes are finished, Satoru sits next to you as the two of you decorate them, slathering the chocolate spread on and placing strawberries neatly down. While he burned the first one, all the others turned out perfect. Leave it to Satoru to be good at something. He groans in satisfaction as he takes a bite of his. 
Breakfast was good, decidedly so, but there was something missing as you ate. Or rather, someone was missing. 
~~~
You lay on your stomach on your bed as you gaze at your phone. You were calling Suguru, hoping to catch a glimpse of him before you went to bed. 
The phone flashes the second he answers and your head perks up. 
“Suguru!” 
“Hey baby.”
Your heart falters at the sound of his silky tone. 
“How was your day?” He asks. 
He’s lying in a hotel bed, dark circles beneath his eyes as he watches your face. The sight hurts you. He’s made an off-handed comment before that he didn’t sleep well without you and Satoru. Your fingers twitch with the need to reach through the screen to grab him. 
“It was okay, how was yours?” 
“It was alright. Nothing interesting has happened yet,” he pauses and his eyes flick down before he brings them back up to you. “Wish I was home though.” 
“Do you?” You tease, your teeth digging into your cheek. 
“I do. It's a bit weird. I haven’t had this much alone time since Satoru got the stomach flu in school, and even then he was calling me every hour to baby him.” 
You let out a laugh. 
Suguru gets up from his bed and carries the phone with him. It looks like he’s in the bathroom now, you can tell with the shower curtains behind him. He’s shirtless with a pair of pajama pants on, they were red plaid that hung low on his waist. It was a Christmas gift you had gotten him several years ago. Even though he was far away, there was still evidence of your love on his body. 
Suguru sets you on the counter, digging his teeth in the hair tie around his wrist. It hangs from his mouth as his hands comb through his hair, putting it into a bun. You’re mesmerized as you watch the action. 
“Satoru tried making your crepes earlier.” You comment, watching Suguru. 
He hums to prove he’s listening, as he stares into the mirror. You watch his tight stomach as he washes his hands, leaning forward to pull out his contacts. 
“They turned out okay. The second batch anyway. The first batch he got distracted and almost burnt the house down.” 
Suguru blinks a couple times before looking down at you, his eyes squinting. 
“I’m kidding! Well, kind of. We were playing rock paper scissors and he was losing, so he was distracted and the first one burnt. I won by the way.” 
Suguru lifts up his phone and carries you back to the bed, sitting down and sliding on his glasses. He always thought he looked the worst at bedtime, unpresentable he said, but you always thought it was when he looked best. 
“Oh hey, you talking to Suguru?” Satoru enters the bedroom and asks, flopping down. 
He inches up the bed, and lays on top of you, pushing his weight on your back while he grabs the phone, pointing it towards him. 
“You miss us so much you just had to call?” Satoru says lightly. 
“Sure, Satoru.” Suguru’s face softens as he watches him. 
“Did they tell you that I won rock paper scissors?” Satoru goes on. 
You wiggle beneath him, trying to distribute his weight. Fruitless effort. 
“No, they didn’t. They did tell me that they won, though.” 
Satoru plasters on a shocked face and uses his other hand to push your face down towards the bed. You chuckle beneath him, poking your head up again. 
“I’m being bullied in your absence, you know.” Satoru tells Suguru. 
“Well, someone has to keep you in line.” 
You giggle beneath Satoru. It was true. Someone had to manage Satoru while Suguru was gone. 
“I have to head to bed, got an early day tomorrow. I love you both.” Suguru says, and you can tell he really doesn’t want to hang up. 
“Okay… I love you!” You try to make your voice cheery. 
“I love you more!” Satoru almost yells. 
The two of you smile at the camera until Suguru clicks off. You try not to let the silence get to you. 
~~~
The next several days were relatively harmless. Suguru called every day, sometimes multiple times if he had the time. You finally ran out of the garden pasta and chicken leftovers, much to your chagrin. Satoru had eaten more than you thought he would. It was because he told you he thought the two tupperware were his, and that there were two others in the fridge for you. When he overheard Suguru saying he put leftovers for the both of you in the fridge, he took that as there was a container for each of you. 
There wasn’t. 
So here you are. 
You end up driving to the store as Satoru was a self proclaimed Passenger Princess. He talked to you the whole time while shuffling through his playlist. 
When the two of you arrive, Satoru makes a beeline to the carts. His lanky figure hunches over as he pushes it, walking at a much slower pace to keep up with you. Satoru and Suguru usually walked extremely fast, given their freakishly long legs. 
And they made fun of you for being slow. 
Satoru always offered to give you piggy back rides, but you only made that mistake once. You were green in the face once he finished, sick for the rest of the day. 
“What’s on the list?” Satoru asks, eyes trailing over the shelves.
You look down at the paper in front of you, carefully reading Suguru’s neat handwriting. 
“Beef, noodles, broccoli, ginger, and green onion.” You read off. 
You link your arm around Satoru’s (he wasn’t the only one who was feeling extra needy while Suguru was gone). Satoru’s arm is thick and hard underneath yours, the result of working out daily for years. Calling it mere eye candy would be gross negligence. 
The two of you had gotten everything on the list, save for the noodles. You were debating in the middle of the aisle between two different packs. 
“Why can’t we just get that one? Comes with more.” Satoru says, pointing to the package in your right hand. It was twice the size of the other one. 
“Cause it’s not the brand Suguru wrote down.” You respond, eyes flicking back and forth. 
It would be nice to have extra, but still… 
“They’re both noodles.” Satoru remarks. 
“Do you want it to taste like Suguru’s?” 
You take Satoru’s silence as an answer, stuffing the larger package back on the shelf. Honestly, you didn’t really see the need to get the specific brand either. But Suguru was meticulous, and you decided you would be too, in his stead. 
You throw the noodles in the cart, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction flow through you. See? You didn’t need Suguru to function. You normally did shopping with him anyway, but you tended to just talk his ear off the whole time while he picked out what he needed. He liked the company, he said. 
When you turn around, you see Satoru shifting everything in the cart. You raise your brows, waiting for him to explain. 
“Get in.” He lifts his head up, signaling for you to hop in. 
You dart your eyes back and forth between the cart and him. 
“I’m not- we could get in trouble-“
“Oh, so you’re a scaredy cat.” Satoru has a shit eating grin as he leans against the cart. 
Now that was something you couldn’t have. You grumble to him and take his hand as he helps you crawl into the cart. It’s a bit fun, you feel joy sparking in your body the second he moves the cart. He pushes it fast before jumping on the back with both feet, letting the momentum carry the two of you. Your laughter fills the air and Satoru’s grinning at you. You felt so carefree, momentarily forgetting the sadness that lurked beneath. 
What feels like an earthquake shocks you from your moment of joy. You whip your head around to the front of the cart, eyes popping out once you see the cause. Your cart had knocked into someone else’s, the older woman scowling at you. 
“You need to watch where you're-“ she starts, her gaze moving from you to Satoru, “-going.” Her words sound light as she stares up at Satoru, clearly in awe of his beauty. 
“I’m sorry, that was my bad.” Satoru says with a chuckle, scratching the back of his head. 
The woman sputters as she stares up at him. Lucky bastard. He could start a war, and apologize right after and get away with it. Pretty privileges. 
“It’s-it’s okay. Just try to be careful? You wouldn't want to get hurt.” She says, aiming her words at Satoru, even though you were in the one in the cart. 
The audacity. 
“Yes! Thank you!” Satoru is smooth as he waves her off. He doesn’t stop smiling until she’s out of sight. 
“You’re unbelievable.” You murmur under your breath, looking up at him. 
Satoru drops his head to look down at you, and you’re almost startled at the intensity of his eyes. You weren’t immune to his beauty either. 
“It’s not my fault old women love me.” 
“Everyone loves you.” 
Satoru grins, shoving the cart before jumping on it again. He didn’t learn anything. You can’t be mad though, not with the way you start to laugh in fun again. The two of you travel down the aisles, slipping different treats into the cart, shoving them on your lap. 
Satoru pays and the two of you head out, the daunting task of cooking dinner resting on your shoulders. 
~~~
You stand in the kitchen feeling completely out of place as you stare at the ingredients before you. It wasn’t a hard recipe by any means, Suguru picked it for its ease. But it was still incredibly daunting. With a sigh, you begin to start cooking the meat, trying to shove the nerves from your mind. You kicked Satoru out of the kitchen, banishing him to your bedroom while you cooked so he wouldn't distract you. 
It was going okay, it really was, it smelled and even looked delicious. That was until you added the garlic powder. You swear it came out faster than it normally did, probably intent on ruining your night if you had to guess. Your eyes stare at the lump of powder in the pan before you rush to mix it, hoping by some miracle that it would dilute. 
You turn the stove off with a dissatisfied expression, glaring at the meal as if it personally did you wrong. A heavy garlic smell hangs in the air, permeating in the small kitchen, as if to shove your face in the failure. 
“Satoru! It’s… done.” You mumble the last part. 
Satoru comes bounding out of the bedroom, a large grin on his face that twitches the second he reaches you before he forces it back. 
“Smells great!” He comments. 
Your lip wobbles into a frown as you stare up at him. 
“Satoru.” 
“Whaatt? I’m serious. Smells fantastic.” He puts an emphasis on the last word. 
You have to keep a sob from bubbling up your throat. You knew there was no way you could compete with Suguru. Turning around, you mope while grabbing bowls, dishing out the dinner for you two. A dinner that would kill any vampire, even if they just looked at it. 
Hanging your head in shame you nudge Satoru’s bowl over to him. Honestly, you were debating if it would have just been better to starve for the night. Satoru grabs his chopsticks and immediately dives in, shoving the utensils in his mouth once he has a hefty amount of food piled on. 
“Wait-!” You try to stop him, although you're not even sure what you’d say. 
Satoru bounces his head side to side as if he’s thinking, his pale cheeks puffed out from the amount of noodles he had. Your eyes are wide open as you stare at him, unsure if you would need to grab water or google how to do the Heimlich maneuver. 
“It’s good!” Satoru says, chopsticks snapping as he picks even more. 
Your mouth is hung open as you witness him chowing down on the food. He can’t be serious. It’s bad. You know it’s bad. 
Why is he lying? 
“Satoru- it’s okay, you don’t, you don’t have to keep eating it, we can order something.” You move to grab his bowl from him. 
Satoru slaps your hand and flicks his lashes up to you. His face is incredibly serious, and for the life of you, you can’t figure out why. 
“I want this.” He maintains eye contact as he grabs more, slipping it past his pink lips. 
You feel exposed under his gaze so you look away, crossing your chest. Is he trying to prove something to you? 
“We should tell Suguru he’s kicked out of the kitchen once he comes back, since you can cook.” 
“Okay, now that feels like you’re making fun of me.” 
“I’m serious! How’d you get the meat so tender?” He’s speaking around mouthfuls of food. 
The meat was tender. You were actually really proud of it, even snapping a picture to send to Suguru. The food was going good until the incident. 
You poke and prod at your food, taking several bites before you nudge the bowl away. Satoru may be able to put on a brave face as he eats it, but you’re much weaker than him. 
Not only does Satoru eat his bowl, he gets seconds, leaving next to nothing in the pan once he finishes. The first couple bites amazed you, how could he pretend it wasn’t bad? Then he had more, and more, and you were starting to worry the copious amounts of garlic had killed his taste buds. 
You were still hungry so once he finishes, he stands up to make you instant ramen. It wasn’t the healthiest of meals, sure, but at least you weren’t going to go hungry. Satoru sits next to you and watches as you dive in, much more eager to eat this than the monstrosity you created. He has love in his eyes as he stares, opening his mouth wide when you offer him a bite. 
Just where did all that food go? 
“All done?” He asks, standing up to grab your bowl. 
You aren’t even feeling upset anymore. Satoru was good at that, though. He always knew how to cheer you up, using his ridiculousness to his advantage. 
“Thank you, Satoru.” You murmur and wrap your arms around him. 
He uses his free hand to pull you in closer. When you look up at him you feel like you’re floating; you had so much love in your heart for him. Satoru leans down, lips pushed out in an attempt to kiss you. 
You could smell the garlic from where you’re sitting. 
You press your hand against his mouth and attempt to push him away. 
“N-no! I don’t wanna kiss your garlic lips.”
“Baby, you’re so mean to me!” He presses against your hand, face inching closer to yours. 
“Get away from me!” You screech with a laugh, running to your bedroom. 
Satoru cackles behind you, pushing the dirty dishes in the sink to clean later, before he chases after you. 
~~~
Several days had passed since the night you cooked for Satoru. Suguru would be coming home today, you think. It was hard to remember. The days had blended together in a conglomeration of time without Suguru. You were excited to see him again. You hadn’t slept well the past couple of days. You hadn’t slept at all for the past two, really. No matter how warm Satoru felt hogging you at night, his limbs wrapping around you like an octopus, your right side still felt remarkably cold. There was a hole in your bed, a Suguru shaped one. 
He’d be home today. He’d be home. 
When Suguru arrives home, he feels something like excitement and relief wash over him. He was able to come home way earlier than anticipated. The sun was barely starting to peek over the clouds, he wasn’t supposed to be back until dinner time. Suguru digs into his pocket once he’s stopped at the door, rummaging around until he grabs hold of his keys. He carefully pushes them in the door, not wanting to wake you. 
The house is silent when he walks in, almost eerily so. Is this what Satoru was used to? He was always the early bird out of the three of you, waking up hours before you and Suguru even thought to. Suguru keeps his steps light as he walks into the house, leaving his bags by the door. The first thing he notices is a bump of hair poking out above the couch. Your hair. 
Why were you out here? 
Kicking Satoru out, he would understand. But you? 
Suguru makes his way closer to you, standing behind the couch. He leans over and places a hand on your shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of your face. You jump in your seat and screech, your phone flying from your hands. Suguru winces once it makes impact with the floor, and brings his eyes back to you. 
You looked… awful. 
There are dark circles underneath your frenzied eyes, your chest heaving as you stare at Suguru. Once you’re able to comprehend that it’s just him, you twirl around and jump over the couch at him. 
Suguru instantly wraps his arms around you so you won’t drop. 
Are you… lighter? 
“Suguru!” Your words are muffled into his neck, your breathing tickling the side of his throat. 
He feels relief at the weight of you against him. He missed being crushed by the presence of you and Satoru. Suguru lifts a hand up and holds the back of your head, shifting his fingers into your hair. The two of you stand like this until he begrudgingly sets you down. 
Your eyes are lit up as you stare at him, your body practically jumping up and down. 
“You’re here early! Right? What time is it? What day is it?” You ask. 
Suguru’s brow lifts up as he watches you, only tearing his eyes away to stare at his watch. It was very early. 
“Why are you awake?” He asks, looking at you. 
The definition of guilt pinches up on your face. You look away, suddenly finding everything else in the room much more interesting than him, even though you were attached to him moments ago. 
Suguru waits for an answer that doesn’t come. 
“How long have you been awake?” His voice is deeper this time. 
He knows he found the sore spot by the way you wince. Suguru says your name in a reprimanding tone. 
“I am willfully choosing not to answer.” You murmur. 
Suguru grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His heart breaks at the sight. Sure, he probably also looked like he hadn’t slept well in awhile. But that was him, and you are you. And you’re his baby. 
Suguru repeats your name a second time, voice much softer. Your face relaxes as you sag in his hold. 
“Two… days.” You respond quietly, Suguru has to strain his ears to hear the end of it. 
Suguru normally tries not to overreact. That was left to Satoru. But he can’t stop the way his eyes bulge from his head, his lips parting in shock. 
“Huh?” He feels the sudden urge to wrap you up and tuck you away. 
“It’s not my fault! The bed was just so cold… and then I got distracted by my phone, which-” you look over your shoulder at your phone on the floor “-shouldn’t be a problem anymore.” 
Suguru’s heart tugs into guilt. He knew that wasn’t what you were intending. You would never want to make him feel bad. 
You couldn’t sleep without him? 
Suguru sighs and pulls you into a warm hug. You nestle into his embrace, your face smooshing against his broad chest. Suguru swears he can feel himself drifting off to dreamland, but he forces himself out. 
He pulls away and reaches over the couch to grab a blanket. He wraps it tightly around your body, including the back of your head. You look a bit like you’re in a cocoon by the time he’s done. He pulls it tight around your chest, and grabs your face with both hands. 
“Go lay down.” His voice is soft but commanding. “I’m gonna cook something, I’ll get you when it’s ready.” 
You look to the ground like a scolded child as you nod, dragging your feet towards the bedroom. Suguru feels a renewed sense of responsibility as he watches you trudge away. He takes a deep breath and looks around. 
Where was Satoru? 
Suguru knew he would be up. At least, he should be up. Suguru walks into the house, going towards the kitchen. He finds Satoru sitting at the table facing away from him, looking down. 
“Satoru?” Suguru says to announce his presence, learning from his mistake. 
Satoru’s head whips around, tossing his phone on the table while he bounces up to his feet. He charges toward Suguru, jumping up until he’s latched around him. Suguru doesn’t have to hold him in place, he can feel Satoru’s legs wrapped tightly against his back. Suguru sways in place and smoothes a hand down Satoru’s back. He peers over Satoru’s shoulder to the table where he notices a bowl of something. Ice cream. 
A wave of smell coming from Satoru’s shampoo washes over Suguru, and he buries his face into the side of Satoru’s neck even more. He missed that smell. 
Suguru pulls Satoru away, reaching behind to unlatch Satoru’s limbs from his body. He sets him down and looks at him, able to maintain eye contact without looking down. 
Satoru looked good. He thought so, at least. He looked wide awake, probably having been awake for at least thirty minutes. Suguru adjusts one of Satoru’s stray white hairs, before looking him up and down. 
“When’s the last time you ate something green?” Suguru asks, knowing that would be Satoru’s issue once Suguru was gone. 
Satoru looks over his own shoulder to the table at his bowl of ice cream. His bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream. 
“Uh, now?” Satoru responds, looking back at Suguru. 
Suguru squints at Satoru, clearly unimpressed. 
“Have I told you how handsome you are lately?” Satoru goes on. 
“Finish what you have, but I’m making something for everyone. I’m gonna make sure to put lots of vegetables in it, just for you.” 
Satoru whines as Suguru turns around, tying his hair up and shoving his sleeves out of the way. 
You’re nestled in the sheets of your bed when Suguru’s voice pulls you from the deep sleep you managed to find yourself in. It was like just knowing Suguru was in the house was enough to calm your nerves to grant you rest. You twist and turn in the bed, debating on whether or not to bring the blanket with you. You hadn’t realized how exhausted you were until Suguru woke you up, and you found yourself wanting to go back to sleep. 
A delicious smell carries over to the bedroom, snapping you out of your haze. The one thing you missed more than sleep was Suguru’s cooking. 
You jump out of bed and make your way to the kitchen. Suguru’s standing next to the stove, a spatula in hand as he looks down. He isn’t wearing his sweater anymore, instead he was wearing a loose white shirt. Satoru is sitting on the counter next to him with a bowl held firmly in his hands, a spoon in his mouth. He’s wearing Suguru’s sweater now, and you don’t doubt for a second that he begged Suguru for it. 
You didn’t blame him. You wanted to drown in Suguru just as much. 
“Is it ready?” You ask, lifting a fist up to wipe the sleep from your eyes. 
Suguru turns around and a soft smile grows on his face as he watches you. You really were his baby. 
“Just about, will you take Satoru’s dishes? He won’t let me have them.” 
“I’m not done yet!” Satoru complains, gripping the bowl closer to him. 
“Satoru, the bowl is empty.” Suguru says, as if he’s already repeated that. 
Satoru digs his spoon back into the bowl, lifting it up to his lips again. The bowl was empty. There were only melted remains of the ice cream clinging to the glass, Satoru scooping it up and easing it past his lips. 
You walk up to him and try to tug the bowl from his hands. On the second tug Satoru finally relents, letting you take the dish to the sink. That was one thing you did right. There were no dirty dishes, the house was in relatively clean condition in general. You refused to let Suguru come home to a messy house. 
Suguru dishes out three bowls for you all, evenly distributing the food. Your mouth is watering by the time he’s done, and you’re diving in the second he gives you yours. 
The food all but melts in your mouth. It was so good. And it didn’t reek of garlic. Suguru stands in the kitchen as he eats, watching you and Satoru sit at the bar. There’s an easy smile on his face as he watches you both, only looking away to shovel more food into his mouth. 
“I’m sorry for making you cook.” You mumble around the food, guilt tugging at your chest. 
You really were pathetic, you could hardly survive with him out of the house. He just got back from his trip, yet he dropped everything to take care of you. 
Suguru picks up on the sadness on your face. 
“I don’t mind, really. I was craving a home cooked meal anyway.” 
Satoru’s lips twitch into a smile. He’s up to something. 
“If you wanted a home cooked meal you should have just said so. They made beef noodles while you were gone, we actually saved the leftovers.” 
Your face heats up, and you kick Satoru’s leg besides yours. 
“Shut up! No I didn’t, Suguru!” 
Suguru’s brow is raised as he watches the two of you bicker. 
“Did you? I didn’t see it.” He talks under his breath as he turns around, opening the fridge to look into it. 
“Suguru!” You whine. 
“It’s in the-“ Satoru’s voice is muffled as he speaks through your hand, “-the front in the container.” 
Suguru reaches to grab it, turning around to set it on the counter. They were the leftovers you hadn’t eaten, as Satoru had consumed everything else. Your face is scrunched up as you watch Suguru open the lid. 
A strong smell of garlic fills the area and you sob, covering your face with your hands. Embarrassed didn’t even cover the half of it. 
Suguru’s face is curious as he peers down, using his utensil to dig into the container, not bothering to heat it up. If he can tell how overpowering the garlic is, he doesn’t show it. Suguru bites into the food, chewing for a moment while the room quiets down. 
“You put a unique spin on it.” He finally says. 
You sob even louder, dropping your head. Satoru is chuckling beside you, taking a sip from his cup. 
“I didn’t say it was bad! It’s just, a choice.” Suguru tilts his head as he takes a second bite. 
“Please stop.” You whine. 
The two boys were ruthless together. Sometimes you forgot, but it didn’t take them long to remind you. It was hard to tell which was worse, the upfront bullying of Satoru or the teasing Suguru took up, that often left you wondering if he was being mean at all. 
Suguru closes the container, and for reasons unknown slips it back into the fridge. Personally, you would have preferred if he threw the whole damn thing away, container included. Or lit it on fire. 
“I hate you.” You murmur to Satoru. 
He side hugs you, pulling you close to him; as close as he can without yanking you from your seat. 
“Did you guys have some good bonding time together?” Suguru asks, picking up all your dirty dishes before dropping them in the sink. 
“We did!” Satoru says proudly. 
You did, and that was nice. You just couldn’t announce it right now, you were too busy showing your displeasure. 
Suguru steps out of the kitchen and makes his way to you both. He presses a kiss to Satoru’s forehead, and grabs your jaw. He bites back a coo at the scowl resting on your face. So damn cute. He presses his lips against yours and you nearly melt. Suguru pulls back and lets his eyes float between you two. He really missed you guys. 
“You wanna go back to sleep?” He offers. 
You grin excitedly and hop off the stool, pulling Satoru with you. The two of you trip over your feet as you run to the bedroom, Suguru trailing behind with a smile on his face. 
Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @mikisspeak
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multific · 11 months
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Black Quill
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Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Summary: You never liked Umbridge, but who did? The woman was miserable and cruel. Her power in the school grew day after day.
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You knew about her pen, you heard the tales from other students long before you entered detention.
Seeing the smirk on her face, the power-hungry bitch handed you a piece of paper.
"Now, Miss Y/L/N, today we are going to learn a really important lesson."
You felt a shiver run down your spine, now you didn't feel so confident.
Earlier that day, you were late for her class, and on top of all of that, you even said that her dress as ugly, detention was a given at that point. But you didn’t care.
However, what she made you write was something way more sinister.
You were prepared for a 'I must not be late' or 'I have to respect my teachers' but not this.
You only felt a tear escape your eyes when you left the room, you weren't ready to give her the satisfaction of seeing you cry.
You headed back to your room, not wanting to see anyone but of course your friends had another idea. You ran into all of them in the corridor. You assumed they have been waiting for you.
"Ah! Y/N! Finished with detention are you?" Asked Theodore as he was the one to first see you. Mattheo, Pansy, Theodore and Draco were all there, just chatting.
"She made you write with that pen?" Pansy asked and you could only nod.
"I cannot believe they are letting her do this! It is torture!" spoke up Draco.
You stood next to your boyfriend who offered you a warm smile, you smiled back but you could tell he was worried. He moved his arm around you as he smoked and you leaned into him, smelling him and just having him there did help you calm your nerves.
Soon, all of you decided to head back to your dorms to sleep but Mattheo followed you into your common room.
"What did she make you write?" he asked and you turned around to look at him, you opened your mouth to say something but couldn't. "I always know when something is off, and you have been hiding your hand. If it was something simple, you wouldn't hide it in front of me and your friends."
You let out a long sigh before moving your sleeve and showing him your hand.
You watched him closely, you watched his face as sadness turned into anger.
Pure rage.
---
"What?" you asked Umbrige, looking at her in disbelief with the quill in your hand you looked up at her..
"You heard me Miss Y/L/N, start writing." she said as she took a seat at her desk.
"But I-I am here because I was late to class, not b-"
"Stop it. Start writing," she said as she started to sip her tea looking at you with a disgusting smile on her face.
---
"I will kill her."
"Mattheo please." you grabbed his arm as he tried to leave, turning him back to look at you, he was angry, you have never seen him this angry before. "I don't want to be alone." you said, voice barely above a whisper and you knew, this would work, he would stay and hug you. 
And that is exactly what he did.
You felt so safe in his arms, not even the burning of your skin and the words on your skin could distract you.
'I must not love a Riddle.'
But you did. You loved Mattheo and nothing will change your mind, not the pain, and not Umbridge.
You knew this wasn't the end. You knew Mattheo more than anyone. 
After all, when you two started dating almost two years ago, he promised to you and to himself that he will never let his last name be a burden to you.
He will have his revenge.
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Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​ @noname2246​
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS
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justwannabecat · 9 months
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“Hey Mom, Dad, what would you do if me or Danny comes back as a ghost?”
Maddie looked at Jazz as though she were silly for even asking. “Why, we’d catch you, of course! It’s not like it would actually be you, just a shell.”
Jack frowned. “Even though it’s not really them, I’d still feel bad if we did any of our experiments. We’d probably just exterminate them as quickly as possible so your souls could rest.”
“But we could get so much information from them! Why wouldn’t we? It’s not like they’d feel it!” Maddie shot back. Jazz sighed and walked away as their voices began to rise, indicating a starting argument. She had what she came here for.
And, glancing at the cold spot by her side, so did Danny.
College is fast approaching, and Danny knows that it’s unlikely he’ll be accepted anywhere. Really, that’s fine. It’s just… he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life living in fear of his parents and lying to them. It would even be fine if they restrict his powers as long as they close the portal and stop all the ghost attacks! He just doesn’t want to be scared!
So Team Phantom comes up with an idea. Jazz will ask what will happen to them if they become ghosts. And Jack and Maddie both agree that, at the very least, they should be caught and Ended. There is no chance for a safe reveal. No hope that he could ever stay.
So he leaves. Jazz switches to Gotham U without telling her parents, and Sam and Tucker both agreed that they wouldn’t go to Gotham for college to throw off any leads the Fentons might have.
They destroyed the portal before they left. A very, VERY thick layer of ghost ice managed to contain most of the damage. They leave behind two prerecorded tapes, one where Danny knows they’re recording a message and one where Jazz quietly threatens the Fentons to leave them alone. She says that she would sooner kill them before she lets them lay a hand on Danny, who by the way, still feels emotions and pain, and your stupid confirmation bias is preventing you from making any real progress in your career.
(That’s all I have so far but I couldn’t stop thinking about it lol)
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