#has it handled !!!! but he's doing 5 things at once

[sushis-wild-imagination]

Seventeen as dads part 3 (All members)

I am so obsessed with this series, I’m weak for dad!seventeen More dad!SVT and other fics on Seventeen Masterlist <3 Genre: FLUFF

→Choi seungcheol

"Will you help dada fix the showerhead?" Seungcheol asks your first born daughter, Siah. Seungcheol was in the bathroom being stubborn that he could fix the showered in the bathroom himself. Your 2 foot high daughter leans on the door frame looking up at her father.

She nods as her dad asks her to help.

"Can you hand me that wrench?"

"Wench?" she repeats wrongly.

"W - RENCH" cheol corrects her again.

"This one?" she points her little finger to every tool in the box and finally gets to the one he wanted. Cheol was very patient with her. He believed in her, it helped built her confidence too.

She handed her dad the wrench.

Cheol did some pushing and pulling, meanwhile siah really wanted hands on experience in this plumbing apprenticeship.

"How are my two star plumbers doing?" you ask walking into the bathroom to see what trouble these two were up to.

Cheol now had Siah on his shoulder while she played with the showerhead acting like she was helping fix it.

"We're almost done, my associate here is new so she's a bit confused" he says pointing to her daughter on him.

Suddenly there is a 'thak" sound and water comes down pouring on cheols face.

You burst out laughing.

“What are you laughing at?” He asks playfully and pulls you into the shower area so now you’re also soaked. This is responded with some sqeals and squeaks.

“Never calling this plumber duo again” you say laughing.

“Well the plumber duo loves you” he says with a cheesy smile and takes siah off his shoulder to bring her between the two of you, now shes soaked too.

→Yoon Jeonghan

"Stop pushing our kid into the pool" you say giggling as Jeonghan playfully throws your 5 year old son, Hyun woo into the water.

Hyung woo hated the water when he was younger, especially the sea. But now it's a mammoth task to get him out of the pool.

"Again! Again!" Hyun woo screams while you could see jeonghan's energy battery running low.

"He'd make you do this all day" you say sitting poolside, reading a book.

"That's all, that's enough" Jeonghan says and pulls Hyun woo out of the pool, now comes the tantrum. Jeonghan uses the last of his power to pull his son out of the pool and airplane him to where you are sitting. He dropped your tantrum throwing son on you. He made you scoot in the small pool chair and stuck close to you, putting his head on your shoulder, boy was he exhausted.

"Does your battery have enough power to pass me the sunscreen?" you playfully ask him.

"There's always a reserve battery for you my love" he says and also gives you a complimentary peck on the shoulder before he retracted to the same position as before.

→Hong Joshua

There was chaos in the Hong Residence as two boys, Dojoon 7 and taehyun 5, run around yelling and screaming. Two hyperactive boys were definitely a lot to handle.

"Boys, Boys!" Joshua claps his hand to get their attention.

"I have a mission for you"

their eyes light up and Joshua has their full attention. They loved missions, they recently got into spy movies and when they hear the word mission, they snap into their alter ego, little spies.

"Dojoon's mission is to clear up your toys on the floor and Taehyun's mission is to bring all the clothes from the dryer to the living room then mom and I will teach you how to fold laundry" he recites all the tasks. You loved doing chores as a family, it was possible on the weekends and you thought the boys would learn how to do things. It was the easiest way.

The kids rush to do their chores and the first one to finish was the elder one. This made the younger one upset, he came crying to you. The two boys are very competitive.

You end up giving them both some cookies. The calmed Taehyun down.

“We need to get them off cookies”

“Just this once please” you tell your husband pulling a cute puppy face. The boys loved cookies and it was easier to calm them down that way. Joshua hates it.

“Last time, promise?”

“Promise” you say pecking his cheek.

→Moon JunHui

“Noo I don’t want to, what if I hurts, and you flush it away”

“You want to keep it?”

Your son nods.

Your 2 and a half year old son is sobbing on his potty chair, not pooping because he thinks its a part of his body and he’s going to lose an arm if he poops.

You knew if was something Jun might’ve told him so you call him over.

“Hes not letting me flush his poop, he thinks we can raise it” you explain to jun sighing.

Jun ends up laughing at this.

“Please?” Your son asks in a small timid voice.

“Its going to start stinking baby”

“It already does” Jun chimes in.

“Caterpillar”

“You think its a caterpillar?” Jun asks and your son nods.

“Its just rubbish, it goes into the dustbin, the toilet is the poop dustbin.” Jun tells his son.

After half and hour of discussion, your son was finally ready to let it go.

“Where is he learning all this?” Jun comments in general.

“Are you sure its not you?” You ask playfully.

“No wayyy!” He says clearly lying.

“You’re lucky we didn’t have to raise his poop”

→Kwon Hoshi

"Appa, I'm going to fall, I'm going to fall" you 6 year old son, Ji ho screams at the top of his lungs. Both the tigers are very loud, it took you some time to get used to. You literally gave birth to a Soonyoung junior. They're too similar. So they clash a lot.

“I haven’t even let go, stop screaming”

“Appa appa!” The little boy screams and goes down the small hill at the park.

“Don’t look back, look ahead, you’re doing it”

“Im going to hate you if you let go!” Your son screams at your husband.

Knowing your husband, he definitely let go and you hear your sons screams again.

“Appa i hate you!”

“You’ll never learn if i don’t let go, you want me to hold the back all the way to school? Whats the point of riding?” Hoshi scolds him.

Your son comes running to where you were sitting and he takes his shoes off to sit on the blanket.

“Appa is not trust worthy”

“You’ll thank me one day!” Soonyoung says and plops himself next to you on the picnic blanket, putting his head on your lap.

Your son joins him and now the two boys were playfully fighting to keep their heads on your lap.

“She’s my mom!” Jiho tells his dad to grt off of you. All this makes you giggle.

“Shes my wife! Get your own wife!” Soonyoung tells him off playfully.

“Im 6!” Your son exclaims.

→ Jeon Wonwoo

“See, now if I move my piece 4 places, I catch one of yours, so you take it back to your house” wonwoo explains to your 5 year old daughter.

She was suddenly on the verge of tears when her dad captured her piece in a game of ludo. She clearly hated losing.

“Appa is cheating!” She kicks her feet in annoyance.

“Thats the rules” Wonwoo says very logically defending himself from a 5 year old. It was hilarious to watch.

“She’s 5! Let her win” you say from the couch shile you watch the two cuties play ludo on your living room floor.

“She’s going to become a brat if I let her win” wonwoo comes back to you with more logic. Hes not wrong but once?

“Just let her win once!” You ask him again. He shakes his head.

“Come here, you and me, we’ll be one team” you say as you slide down the couch on to the floor.

Your daughter calms down a little while she sits on your lap. “Lets make daddy lose” she says and rolls the die again.

You very strategically play and capture 2 of wonwoos pieces in the next 3 rolls. Your daughter was happy now and wonwoo was stressed.

“Yes! We won! Daddy lost!” She sticks her tongue out at Wonwoo.

“See? This is what I meant” he says and bites his lower lip acting like he’s angry about the gesture.

You giggle at your cute husband.

→ Lee Jihoon

“Im going to throw it now, eyes on the ball okay?” Jihoon tells his 6 year old daughter who is wearing a hand glove thats bigger than her face. It was cute to watch.

You could see them through the living room window where you sat to read a book.

Jihoon makes the first throw that goes over the little ones head.

Her eyes follow the ball like her dad asked her to.

“Its too high”

“Jump to catch it” he teaches her but she groans.

“Just throw me a ball I can catch”

“Jump jump” he repeats stubbornly throwing another ball over her head.

She hates running to get the ball. This time she makes it her mission to make her dad run and get the ball. She throws the ball full swing and it hits jihoon right where the sun don’t sun.

You burst out in laughter watching the love of your life fall to the ground and groan in pain.

“Thats it for the day” he says between the pain and finally gathers himself enough to come back to the living room.

“That was some revenge shot”

“Our daughter is very powerful” he says remembering the pain and almost wincing again just at the thought.

“Im sure she takes after you honey” you smile at him.

→ Xu Minghao

Your younger daughter and your husband, Minghao, were standing in front of the bathroom mirror.

Minghao lost a bet yesterday about something silly and the punishment was to make your daughter hair. It was punishment because your daughter hated it when someone touches her hair or brushed it. It's a recent development. She would throw tantrums and it was just difficult.

It was minghao's first time touching her hair and he was visibly nervous too. He didn't want to hurt his little princess. Understandably.

"What do you want me to do today, princess?" he says hovering his hand over her hair, not sure where to put it.

"I don't want to!!" here it starts.

Minghao gets down to her level on his knees to talk to her. That's how he gets everyone. He has a way with words. A smooth talker you fell for.

"Why not?"

"It hurts"

"Daddy will do it softly, very very softly, and we stop the second you feel hurt okay?" he explains to her and try to touch her hair again.

He does it so softly like even the slightly touch would hurt his daughter.

"Ah" your daughter lets out a yell and Hao begins to inspect that area softly pushing hair away so he can see.

"Look, she has a rash"

she was not throwing a tantrum. She really was hurt, it made you feel horrible. you immediately apologise to her and bring some ointment for it.

"I'll brush it softly okay? so the knots are out" he tells her before he continues. She trusts him, you trust him.

You take some ointment out to put on her but she refuses.

"I want daddy to do it" she says and you nod understandingly.

He helps her with the ointment and your daughter finally has brushed hair. She hops away happily while you watch.

"I can't believe I missed it"

"It's normal, don't worry" he reassures you.

"This wasn't even punishment, she loves you doing her hair" you complain and he chuckles.

"Want me to do your hair?"

"Only if you do it as softly"

"Always"

→ Kim Mingyu

Kim mingyu, your husband of 5 years was working out in his work out room, he made a area attached to the living room a work out area so he didn't have to go to the gym, but occasionally still sometimes ends up going to socialise with friends while he exercises.

He had become much more of an exercise person once Bora was born cause he wanted to be as energetic with her as possible. He wasn't ready for his body giving up if he had to play with Bora or worse save her life.

You were passing by his work out area with the laundry basket but watching him working out your feet stopped and you ended up staring at him.

"What are you looking at?" his voice snaps you out of your staring.

"Huh?"

He smirks and you throw a sock at him at shut him up. If you stared longer you would've drooled physically.

You watch Bora's little legs run to her dad.

"Hello, to you too!" you say sarcastically and playfully as your daughter ignored you. Bora found Mingyu's gym contraptions very fascinating. She might be into exercising too. She loves being active.

Bora climbs her dad and somehow gets to his shoulders. What a total monkey. Only her tail is missing.

He ends up doing chin ups with bora on his back, no idea how he is this strong, but you were glad that he is.

while you come back to the living room with dry clothes to fold you see mingyu doing push ups with Bora on the floor.

"You're too sweaty" she screams as Mingyu's seat drops on Bora who was under him, every time he came down he would shower bora with kisses as she counted.

It was the sweetest thing to watch.

"I'm done, you can stop staring"

oh the things you would do to wipe that smirk off his face, right now all you could do was throw a dry towel to his sweaty face.

→ Lee Dokyeom

"What is this you do daddy?" the little girl asks her dad while he puts on multiple toner pads on his face.

Since it was a Sunday, dokyeom scattered all his skincare on the living room floor, ready with a bare face to pamper his.

"This is for my skin, so it's soft and pretty, like yours" he explains to her while she listens intently.

"My skin is soft and pretty?"

"of course it is, because you're a baby"

"I'm a big girl, I want to do this too" she whines a little. You overhear this conversation.

"should I cut you some cucumbers to put on your eyes?"

You take your child to the kitchen and she watches you cut some thin slices of cucumber, she was very excited. She ends up taking the plate to her dad rushing to be a part of this salon play.

You follow her out while she lays on the floor next to her dad. You sit by her feet and suddenly DK starts a salon skit.

"Hello Ma'am, what would you like today?"

"Cucumbers" she responds cutely.

DK places the cool cucumbers on her eyes that make her shiver.

"Would you also like a foot massage ma'am?" you ask her as you rub her feet. You hadn't done this since she was a little baby. It brought back memories and how much she had grown.

Your daughter, meanwhile is busy munching on the cucumber she's supposed to have over her eyes.

"Hey, are you just eating it!" DK scolds her playfully.

She giggles in response. Her giggles are the most adorable sound.

Between the massage and the cucumber facials, your daughter falls asleep in the middle of the both of you. DK slides his butt to sit next to you. You subconsciously put your head on his shoulder.

"She's growing up too fast, I don't like it"

"Wait for the day she says 'I don't need you' I'm going to start bawling my eyes out" DK says and a visual of him doing that dramatically flashes in your head that makes you giggle.

"I'll be right next to you probably also sobbing my eyes out" you mention and he gives you the sweetest smile.

→Boo Seungkwan

Your husband was pacing back and forth with your 2 year old son in his arms trying to get him to go to bed. It was 11pm already, way past his bed time, but you just couldn't get him to sleep.

It had become practice that Seungkwan sings him a soft lullaby and some walking in his father's arms knocks him right out.

You saw him whispering a song and couldn't help but hum it yourself while you put away all the toys he played with today so they don't poke your feet in the morning.

Your humming perked his eyes and seungkwan gave you a side eye for waking his baby up, you mouth a sorry.

"Mommy's here?" you wakes up to find you. He never gets to see you in the night because you come home late from work.

He immediately wants to come to you, you take him for a second say hi give him some kisses and give him back to seungkwan, despite all his whining, sleepy whining.

You pat seungkwan's back as a 'best dad' pat and move on to the toys on the living room.

→Choi Vernon

You were surrounded by paper and scissors and scrap paper. Your kindergarten going son, Derek had a project at school to make a jar full of cranes to bring to class.

Of course, a child's project is the whole house's project. Now, it was you, Vernon and Derek Sunday afternoon, making a jar full of cranes.

You were teaching Derek how to make a paper crane and the folds were too tough for a 3 year old.

Vernon folded one crane a little too big and filled the entire jar.

"Tada! We're done!" he announces clearly with so much space left.

Derek giggles. "No daddy, there is so much left"

"No look? It's all done, one big crane fits the jar, just tell your teacher that" he jokes with him.

It makes you giggle too.

You end up having a nice family bonding time when you do arts and crafts with Derek.

→Lee Chan

“The same one?”

Your daughter nods.

Your daughter, 5, has been asking for the same story about the elephant and the ant for the 100th time. She only sleeps once shes heard that story.

Chan can recite that story in his sleep. Its the same thing over and over. Your daughter could finish his sentences at this point. Once the story was done, Chan tucks her in and turns the light off.

“How can I forget?” Chan pretends to gasp and showers your daughters face with kisses.

Your daughter wipes her face.

“Don’t do that, Im a big girl now”

“Okay okay” He says and shuts the door, it does break his heart a little bit.

He comes to you looking a little mopey.

“Is she in bed?” You ask your husband. “Yeah” he says and comes to cuddle you.

“She said she doesn’t want to be tucked in with kisses anymore” he mutters. You run your fingers through his hair. “She’s growing up a little too fast, I don’t like it” he pouts.

“She’ll always be your little girl” you tell him.

“Always”

#svt imagines #svt preferences #seventeen #carats #caratland #svt scenarios #svt jun #svt hoshi #svt wonwoo #svt woozi #svt minghao #svt Mingyu #svt dokyeom #svt seungkwan #svt vernon #svt dino #dad svt #seventeen dad #dad!scoups #dad!svt #lee chan #dino x reader #seungkwan x reader #hoshi x reader #woozi x reader #svt fluff #svt #scoups x reader #jeonghan x reader #joshua x reader

[pocketramblr]

I don't know if you're still doing it, but an AU where Gran Torino raises Kotaro.

1- as Shih put it, Sorahiko's an all-or-nothing guy. Nana tells him that Kotaro isn't safe anywhere near her, that she can't handle losing her son to AfO. Sorahiko nods, and asks if he should hide the boy, or go with him. Nana asks him to stay with Kotaro, and cries a lot. Sorahiko holds her, and then goes inside to tell Kotaro that he's going with him, and needs to pack up, and tell his mother goodbye.

2- Kotaro Yamada is raised in a strange way. Sorahiko can't cook any better than his mother could, but he doesn't try anymore. He knows Sorahiko used to be a hero, like his mother, but when he asks all the man tells him is he got his license because he just wanted to use his quirk, and now he keeps it in case whoever is after his mother comes for the boy. And oh, is Kotaro conflicted about his mother- he certainly can't say a bad word about her in Sorahiko's earshot. He knows she loves him, and is likely going to die trying to protect him from something. But he doesn't like it. *Yamada is just a common name, since Sorahiko is sure that AfO would know to look out for any Shimuras or Torinos.

3- When Kotaro is twelve years old, Sorahiko gets a call from a phone number he hasn't in years. He answers it, and there's a young voice on the other side, rough from tears, saying that Shimura-sensei told him to call the number after she died. Sorahiko knows this means Nana needs something else from him- the last thing she needs from him. But he has to help the first way too. So, he sneaks to UA during the day, and trains Toshinori while Kotaro is at school- Toshinori is excused for personal training, for "meetings with the school counselor after losing his teacher", and makes up classwork in the evenings after Sorahiko leaves. Toshinori stays in an altered apartment in one of the fake cities on UA grounds, alone when he isn't training. When Toshinori once tells Sorahiko that Nana was like his mother, Sorahiko asks quietly if Nana ever told him about her son. Toshinori just says she lost him, a bit of sadness in her heart no matter how she smiled or spoke of romantic dreams. Sorahiko tells him (Toshinori) that it's his (Sorahiko's) fault Nana never saw her son again, and that he's going to train Toshinori to make sure he can kill AfO, not the other way around. Which means he needs to leave the country. The last training session the day before graduation is the last time Sorahiko speaks to Toshinori for decades. And it will not be Toshinori reaching out.

4- Kotaro goes to high school, then university. He becomes an architect. He falls in love. He's surprised when Sorahiko is happy to hear this- weren't they both hurt so much by Nana? Isn't that why Sorahiko closed himself off from anyone but Kotaro? But he's encouraged. He marries Nao, builds a house for her and her parents and him and his. Eventually, they have a little girl, Hana. She looks so much like Nana. Sorahiko and Kotaro never say this fact outloud.

5- Eventually, AfO finds Kotaro. Hana is eight, too old for him to spark a quirk awakening in her without suspicion. But with enough eavesdropping quirks he hears that Kotaro and Nao are considering another child, so he starts setting up coincidences to nudge them along the line. When Tenko is born, four years later than in canon btw, AfO moves. Hana sits down at the dinner table, and when she touches her mother's arm, the woman turns to dust. Everyone starts screaming- except Sorahiko, who moves. He grabs Hana and breaks the window to the backyard, leaves Hana floating above the grass in terror, her jacket falling to dust as she hugs herself. Then he goes back, and grabs baby Tenko. He looks up to see Kotaro, covered in Nao's blood, looking to the front door, that also fell apart. A tall man stands behind it, reaching out a hand to the wall. Kotaro looks back at Sorahiko and tells him to go with the kids, now. Sorahiko breaks into Might Tower about half an hour later, with a child and a baby, and tells All Might these are Nana's grandkids, and he needs All Might to arrange tickets to I-island for the three of them, as quickly as he can while keeping it secret. He leaves a report in a file behind them. Toshinori only tells David to protect them, and Dave does. The baby's a year younger than Melissa, he has to help. Over a decade later, he finds that Hana's headaches seem to be from stress for her two quirks, the sort of opposite problem with Toshinori's decreasing power. But maybe he can build something to help- Melissa the engineer and Tenko the programmer are eager to help too, anyway they can. Sorahiko, feeling as useless as he always has, thanks them.

#pocket talks to people #anon #ask game #fine. i'll let the dual quirk thing hurt people in one au. because maybe they can stop it

[danisbrainrot]

yellowjackets as taylor swift albums (I'm bored). this became deeper than I meant for it to go OMG. whoops, anyways, enjoy:

1. tai: reputation. oh my god this girl is soooo in love with van, and at the end of the day, that's what reputation is. a love album. yeah it's got a little revenge in it, but overall, it's about being in love with someone who was there for you at your most vulnerable. and who's always been there for tai, adult AND teen timeline? VAN!

2. van: 1989! it's nostalgic, fun, iconic but still has the emotional rawness that flows throughout all of taylor's albums. everyone thinks 1989 is just heaps of fun, but it has this emotional intensity to it that once you look closer to it, you realise how much of a masterpiece it is. also, it just gives me van vibes tbh.

3. jackie: lover. she's so insecure about being in a relationship with who she thinks is the love of her life (shauna) in case she fucks it up (spoiler alert, she does). taylor also wrote this album as a last hurrah, to prove she had more stories to tell, and I think that ties in nicely to jackie's character. her insecurity forces her to try and prove herself to shauna, and show her best friend how much she loves her.

4. shauna: she's a red girlie. taylor's most emotionally raw album (besides ttpd) and she just gives the vibes. this is taylor's first heartbreak album (like how jackie's death was shauna's first heartbreak), and it's so intense that it takes a few listens to understand, but once you do, you realise it's an album about a girl with big heart learning how to recover from the devastation of losing someone she loves deeply.

5. lottie: folklore!! I love my little baby. this album was written in isolation, and you can definitely hear it in some of taylor's lyrics, and I just feel like that's lottie's character. the isolated girl who's held up to a higher standard than everyone else.

6. nat: ttpd. okay, i was tossing up between giving this to nat or travis, but then I remembered the adult timeline and went with nat. when I first heard this album, it reminded me of her purposeless speech. it's also an album where taylor was going through a manic phase, and if that isn't nat, I don't know what is. she's just lost the love of her life, and then she's kidnapped by lottie's cult and promised so many wonderful things, that she believes it—only for it to end in tragedy.

7. misty: she gives off such speak now vibes. she has so much she wants to prove, and she's reeling from being in love with a man much older than her.

8. travis: evermore. he's such a tragic little guy, that the album suits him. I really just think of happiness, marjorie and right where you left me because he's stuck in the past. he literally kills himself (accidentally I know, I know) because he's so trapped in the wilderness despite being free from it. this album has always given me: depressed sad, compared to its sister albume: folklore, which gives me angry sad. and while he's definitely more angry then lottie, he's got this deep sadness in him that echoes evermore.

9. mari: midnights. okay I don't know how to explain it better than this is how I interpret mari. she's the first to throw herself into believing lottie because she's scared and when I think of midnights, I think of how scared taylor was at losing her relationship and joe that she ignores her feelings. and mari ignores her feelings because if she really thinks about it, I don't think she'd be able to handle herself, i.e. being trapped in the woods, eating jackie.

10. javi: taylor swift (debut). just the innocence and naïvety of the album. it's her first album, she wrote and released at 15/16 so there's a lot of childish beliefs and hopes, which I think javi has—but there's still an underlying feeling of heartbreak. he tries to be a kid, but is still traumatised.

11. laura lee: fearless!! this is purely based on the album title. I mean, learning to fly a plane just to save her friends? this album is probably my least favourite, so you're not going to get a lot of analysis, but the few times I've listened to it, I understand it's about having faith things will work out (this might be wrong, but that's what I'm choosing to believe about it). and her faith makes her believe she can do anything, including save her friends. omg I love her so much <333

#danistalks #surely this isnt too niche #yellowjackets #yellowjackets showtime #taylor swift #taissa turner #vanessa palmer #shauna shipman #jackie taylor #lottie matthews #natalie scatorccio #travis martinez #javi martinez #mari yellowjackets #misty quigley #laura lee #fearless #speak now #red #1989 #reputation #lover #folklore #evermore #midnights #the tortured poets department

[drewsbuzzcut]

Meeting The Brothers

Warnings: mentions sex and alcohol consumption (this is short and unedited sorry! The jealous barzy blurb should be better)

“I still can’t believe you have 3 brothers and I’m meeting all of them right now… at the same time,” Mat exasperates in the driver’s seat of his car.

You reach out to caress the back of his neck, a wry smile on your face. You sort of feel bad for having your boyfriend meet all of your brothers at once, but it’s just better to rip off that bandaid.

“It’ll be okay, hotshot. You’re Mathew Barzal, star hockey player. If anything, they’re probably going to be intimidated by you,” you try to assure him, but you’re so wrong; you just don’t know it yet.

-

“So what’re your intentions with our sister?” Your oldest brother, Nate, asks. He doesn’t hold back his annoyance towards Mat and you feel your stomach start to sink.

Mat goes to answer, but is interrupted by your youngest brother, Michael.

“Just because you’re some hockey player, doesn’t mean that we’ll look past the fact that you’re 5 years older than our little sister.”

You gasp in shock, because you truly weren’t expecting this interaction.

“Mikey, cut it out. There are no intentions like you’re insinuating. We’re in love, our age gap has nothing to do with anything,” you snap.

You can feel your blood start to boil and your patience run thin. It’s bad enough that you sometimes have daunting thoughts of being too young and naive for Mat, but for your brothers to question Mat’s motive because of your age gap, it makes it worse.

“Look, I love your sister so much. Our age has nothing to do with it. I understand your worries, though. I have two younger sisters and I’d do anything to protect them. I get it, but I’d also like for you all to give me a chance to love myself,” Mat responds calm and collected.

Nick, Nate, and Michael stay quiet and simply nod their heads. The conversation moves on, them still interrogating Mat but not being harsh and taking into consideration your happiness.

You’re quite proud of Mat for how he handled your brothers coming in hot and loaded. It makes you fall deeper in love with him.

-

“I still can’t believe you’re with a hockey player,” Nick mutters after his last sip of beer.

You furrow your eyebrows, not really understanding what he meant.

“Why? Because she doesn’t like hockey? I think I’m making a fan out of her,” Mat chimes in, his hand settling on your shoulder. His thick fingers rub at your warm skin.

“No. Because she used to have a thing for baseball players,” Nick spills, alerting you that you’re about to stumble upon rocky waters.

“Nick-“ you try to cut in, but get interrupted by Nate.

“Oh yeah! Our dear sister here actually was hooking up with Michael’s friend. He was a baseball player, and for a while we thought they were going to end up together.”

“Nate,” you groan and slap a hand on your forehead.

“I never had feelings for him; we were just sleeping together,” you continue, cheeks burning hot with embarrassment.

You cannot believe your brothers are really bringing this up right now. You subtly take a peek at Mat to see his features set in deep contemplation. You’re not really sure what’s going through his mind, but you’re sure it’s nothing good. You lean into his side and press a kiss to his bicep, hoping to calm the storm that’s surely raging in his head. He looks into your guilty eyes, but there isn’t any judgement or anger. He presses a quick kiss to your forehead and faces your nightmares of brothers.

“Well, I guess she likes hockey more than baseball,” he states nonchalantly and you stifle your smirk. Yeah, you like hockey a lot more.

#visceral in doses #visceral in doses blurbs

[willowser]

i don't think bakugou is that kind of useless dad that can't do anything without you helping him, but i do like the idea of him being a slightly frazzled new-ish dad 🥺

katsuki decides to take the baby with him on his run to the grocery store because you deserve a break, however small, and everything is fine, honestly, like. he can handle it.

but he is standing in line to checkout and there is drool on his shirt and his hair is a little messed up and sticky from being tugged on and he's got his items in one hand and baby on his hip.

your little girl has entered into that phase where she just likes hearing herself make noise, so she's clapping her hands together and just babbling, sometimes too loud, so loud that it attracts attention.

and katsuki is sort of bouncing her a little bit to keep her from getting squirmy, mumbling, "yeah, dah dah dah dah, i know," right to her ears only, giving curt nods to any of the older ladies in the store that coo over the sight of them.

#i just love the image of her being like alnfhfuskajdkala so loudly while looking at him #and he looks back at her and goes yes okay akfbhfhdkkakdja alright i get it #LMAOOOO #in full seriousness #so cute 🥺 #and little old ladies walk by and just adore him and he doesnt know how to take that LOL #cw children #trying to do everything on his own just to give you a break and he's. a little bit of a mess. #has it handled !!!! but he's doing 5 things at once #✿ thoughts: bakugou #✿ theme: dad bakugou

[goethitee]

oooo i think im in trouble…….

#uhh tw for animal abuse & death mention ig #TO CLARIFY IF YOU DONT READ THE REST OF THE POST I AM NOT THE ANIMAL ABUSER #anyways idk if any of you remember the friend of mine that makes poor dog decisions but thats who im talking abt here. #the puppy mill mini aussie of hers has been causing her problems (shocker). but these problems are mainly there because she literally does - #- nothing w her dogs. like she keeps them crated like all the time. theyre barely outside for like 5 min at a time. i only just recently - #- got her to try training them to settle. which hasnt been going well because she never actually house trained the mini aussie. she seems - #-to think omce a dog reaches a certain age theyll be well behaved. but she texted me tonight complaining abt the mini aussie again & said - #-abt how he chewed a hole through the bottom of his crate & carpet down to the hardwood. she then said abt how her bf was so pissed he said- #-if he does it again hes gonna take the dog outback & shoot him. she seems to think this is an okay thing to say. #anyways i told he needed to get the fuck over it shit like that happens when you have dogs your shit gets damaged. #i also finally told her that the fucking bones dont cut it the dogs needs mental enrichment & traing & that she needs to work him. #she mad at me now lol but im just so fucking sick of her shit & how she treats her dogs. complains abt them not being good while doing noth- #-ing to fix it. i feel terrible for her poor dogs. this also isnt the first time ive heard her say smth abt the bf threatening to shoot the- #-dog. ‘its just the way he is!’ thats not fucking excuse he needs fucking therapy if he thinks that that is an okay thing to say. #& honestly from what i know of him he might actually do it at some point. idk our bloodhound that we had to euthanize for aggression chewed- #-on the fucking walls of our house but never once did we even think of ‘taking him out back & shooting him’ & he did that after the first - #- attack. #also shooting your dog is illegal so i will definitely be calling someone if it happens. #i also told her to just get rid of him if she couldn’t handle him cuz im sick of her shit lol

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.2

[Pt.1] [Pt.3] [Pt.4][Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]

Danny dragged up another plastic wrapped body from the bay.

“It’s you. What are you doing?”

“Oh, holy smokes!” Danny screeched. “What-! Oh, it’s you! The litterer!”

Batman stood in front of Danny, cape draped around his shoulders and a far better sight to see than the last time Danny had seen the guy.

“… I’m Batman.” He introduced himself to Danny awkwardly.

“Uh huh. You missed a couple of things cleaning up the beach last time.” Danny dropped the body on the pebbled shore of the bay and crossed his arms. He sent Batman an unimpressed look. “You’re just like your city. There’s trash all over the water!”

Batman glanced down.

“That is a body.”

Danny scowled.

“No, that’s plastic. Plastic does not belong in the ocean.”

Batman sighed. For some reason, Danny thought he seemed less… antagonistic. Wait, did he think Danny killed the guy?!

“That is a body wrapped in plastic.”

Fuck it.

“If it was a body, then bury it. Or decompose it before you people decide to dump it into the water. Even the sharks have the decency to decompose when they’re dead. Do you know how long plastic takes to deteriorate??”

Batman glanced to the side, where the line of plastic wrapped masses had caught his eye to begin with.

“I do. Did all of these come from the bay?”

“Quite obviously, yes. I don’t have enough time to clean the waters! Ancients, it’s like they’re multiplying!” Danny knew why they were multiplying. It’s because Gothamites were getting murdered and dumped weekly. The problem is that Danny has classes and assignments to complete and he couldn’t be out here every week.

“I’ll handle it.”

“Oh, will you? And how do you plan on doing that when you couldn’t even properly clean the beach of your plane? I even stacked it up nicely for you to pick up!”

Alright, so maybe Danny had a couple of grudges. Like… a solid one that’s based on the hours of sleep he missed cleaning up after Batman and the wreck.

“We didn’t get everything?”

“No.” Danny huffed. “Whatever. Just figure out what to do with these bodies. I was not looking forward to digging graves for all of them.”

“You were going to dig graves for them?” Batman sounded off.

Danny scowled again. “I’m dead, genius.” And now Batman looked like someone ran over his dog. “Respecting the dead is important and graves are important for the dead. How else would we know we’re remembered?”

Danny threw up his hands. “Humans,” he muttered, like he wasn’t half human himself.

“Anyways, I’m leaving. Handle this properly or else I’m haunting you.”

“Wait-!” Batman said, but Danny had already disappeared.

So, while Batman had an angst crises at two thirty in the morning and thirty new unidentified corpses to contend with, Danny Fenton flew back to his apartment and passed out on his shitty couch.

——

“You need to stop.”

“Pay me to stop, then. What are your villains going to do? Kill me? I’d like to see them try.”

Danny looked Batman right in his lenses and plopped another body down at the man’s feet.

“I can tell you who they are for a fee.” Danny offered the vigilante. “Some of these still have shades of their souls attached still.”

“What.”

Danny tilted his head, moon once more lighting a halo of flickering white flames around his head. “$100 per identity.”

Batman stared.

#sea cryptid Danny phantom #sea spirit au #dcxdp #danny phantom #bruce wayne #batman #bamf danny phantom #Danny the tired college student #Danny is broke #Batman is not #Danny: business opportunity??? #sea cryptic! danny au

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Part 2 to Truth or Dare

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: After a game of Truth or Dare leaves you and your lieutenant breathless and yearning for more, will you both be able to leave things alone or will one of you not be able to hold out? And what happens when you meet again?

Word Count: 5 k

Part 3: READ HERE

So many questions are left on Lt. Riley’s tongue as he finishes another cigarette and leaves the group of officers behind in the rec to make his way back to his quarter, the spectre's touch of your full lips still causing the skin on his mouth to tingle from the sudden lack of all that delicious pressure. There is so much he wants to make clear, even more he wants to do, but where to begin? It’s all so confusing.

As he lays down in his empty bed staring up at the ceiling, struggling to relax his feverish limbs as it still feels like he has been struck by a live wire, he fails to keep his wandering mind focused on his breathing to ignore the gnawing emptiness that is filling his chest from the absence of your presence. That’s when the questions start to roll in.

Did you feel something too? Maybe it was all just an act? Does that even matter if it was?

“No,” Simon mutters to himself through the silence to stop his train of thought from running rampant. He’s allowing himself to get distracted worrying about the unknown and that is something that will only cause more problems, but he is in turmoil.

Unsuccessfully he tosses and turns in the darkness that fills the space, his thoughts drifting back to that feeling of heat from the proximity of your bodies, the residual pressure from your mouth plastered to his, the look of pure lust in your gaze, and the gnawing compulsion of his fingers to get at your curves. 

But this isn’t a lover’s island, there is a job to be done here and he has seniority. Maybe it is better to leave this alone where it stands; who knows what disaster could come from getting involved with another officer in such a capacity. And yet…

There is no stopping his mind from wandering ceaselessly back to those breathless moments where his lips fought yours for dominance with the mind-numbing electricity flowing between you, the attraction so strong it did not seem possible for you both to pull from it. 

He has a problem and it isn’t going away.

Across base, laying in the dark in your own bed, your heartbeat pounding heavily in your chest, an ache runs its course throughout your limbs. There is a need for something to ease this overwhelming desire to be craved in a desperate, debilitating way, though you really don’t want to admit it. No, you don’t need something…you need someone. You need him.

You hadn’t been ready to admit it then, but there was a spark between you that is no longer possible to ignore now that you are alone, but you don’t know how to handle things any other way than to just ignore and move on; maybe the desire to have him again will die away if you just let it be. Even as the thought enters your mind you know it’s pure bullshit. There is no denying that things became complicated the second your lips met, that it was like igniting gasoline with a blowtorch. What was once mere infatuation that you could handle, has now grown into an untamed beast inside that leaves you feeling delirious and out of control. 

Rolling onto your side, you convince yourself to leave all these questions alone and focus on something else, anything to get your mind off of what you would be doing with the lieutenant at this moment if you both had not been interrupted. As you close your eyes to force sleep to come, visions of a bare and glistening officer thrusting between your legs fills your subconscious and you hope the morning comes soon enough because sleep is going to be short tonight.

Luckily, life around base rarely stands still long enough for anything other than work to get tended to. Any hopes of exploring that tension and ecstasy has to be put on the back burner as life in the taskforce resumes its usual chaos. Daily operations keep your schedule packed completely full all week so that certain thoughts get pushed to the back of your mind. And yet, during those slower moments of the day, they come creeping back up just like they never left. 

“ ‘ello?” Soap says as he waves his hand in front of your blank face. “Ye in there, lass?”

Your fork hangs limply from your hand, teetering over your plate lunch and threatening to fall with a clatter as you realize that you drifted off again. This is the third time this week that you have gotten so lost in thought trying to recall that feeling of the lieutenant’s lips that it’s becoming apparent to your fellow sergeant that something is off. Blinking a few times, you shake your head to clear your mind.

“What?” you shoot back at him as you stab the food and push it around the plate, pretending to eat even though you aren’t hungry.

“I’ve been talkin’ for a good five minutes and ye ain’t heard a word,” he says with a hint of agitation. His steady glare gives you the once over as he tries to read your face. “Where ye at these last few days, hmm?” 

You mask your face behind your customary smile. “Maybe I’m just trying to imagine a more engaging conversation than the one I’m currently in,” you pick, but Johnny isn’t letting this drop.

His eyes are still on you, scrutinizing your body language even as you stare down into your food to avoid his gaze. From the corner of your eye you can see the gears turning in that mind of his as if he is trying to put things together. You let it go on a few more seconds before you speak up.

“You got a problem or something?”

“It’s just strange,” he chuckles and you raise an eyebrow as you tilt your head to the side. “It’s just…I was speakin’ to Gaz yesterday and he mentioned that the lieutenant seems…distracted…as well lately. Same vacant look ye got goin’ on. Ye wouldn’t happen ta know why, would ye?”

Your heart leaps with a strong thud in your chest. Just what the hell is he implying? You had been certain that Johnny knew nothing, but now you aren’t so sure. Maybe you aren’t being as convincing as you think. “Why the fuck would I know that?” you play it off as you swallow down the lump in your throat. “Do I just know everything that goes on with everyone around here? I’ve got enough on my mind then to worry about the rest of you lot.”

Johnny leans in a bit closer over his plate and lowers his voice as he says the next part, making your blood run cold. “Must be a coincidence then, that both a ye just happen ta be actin’ different at the same time, ay? Ye know, on account a tha other night.”

The heel of your boot immediately connects with his foot only hard enough to make him yelp and pop back upright in surprise. You always forget that Johnny is smarter than he lets on and it’s clear he has been paying attention. Too bad you will never give him the satisfaction of admitting anything. With a laugh he sits back in his seat as you stare him down before rolling your eyes. 

“Why are you so worried about the lieutenant? Seems like someone’s a bit too obsessed and that can be a problem. You should probably talk to someone about that.”

He shakes his head. “Whatever ye say, lass,” he says, punctuating it with another chuckle as he tucks back into his lunch. “Whatever ye say.”

Firearms and ammunition is on the schedule for the rest of your day. It is your job to take inventory of all the munitions you’ll need for tomorrow’s end of week training. At least the repetitious task will keep you busy enough that hopefully you won’t be thinking about a certain lieutenant and what he could be up to right now.

At least that is the plan that you start with, but just as every other day this week soon that hulking officer begins to creep his way into your mind. Has Johnny been lying about how distracted the lieutenant seems lately? Could it be about what happened the other night or could it be something that has nothing to do with you? Little by little, it chips away at your calm until that is all you can focus on, even as you try and get through counting and gathering all the materials you’ll be needing for tomorrow. 

There is no way for you to know, but at that exact moment there is someone coming your way with a burning question that needs answering. 

All week Lt. Riley has gone about his days as usual, except try as he might to focus only on the tasks given to him, all he can do is mull over the same question in his mind: did you feel something in the kiss the way he did? It is eating him alive to know the answer and no matter where he is, who is speaking with, or what he is doing, the question is there to make him restless.

Until finally he has had enough. Just as the question overwhelms his mind again he throws down the work on his desk, shoves his chair back to get out, and leaves his office in a flurry. He doesn’t know where he’s going, but as he walks he passes by Captain Price’s office, the one person that would know where you are stationed today. Quickly he steps inside the doorway to ask. 

Price checks his computer screen that has all that information already pulled up. “She has firearm trainin’ tomorrow with the newer recruits, so she will be takin’ inventory in munitions today,” the captain relays the information, curious as to why his lieutenant seems tense and sounds a little out of breath. 

Before the captain can ask any more probing questions or mention to his officer that he will need to speak with him in a bit, the lieutenant heads off in a rush towards the munitions depot. No matter, the captain will let him conduct his business with you and send a messenger in a bit to bring him back.    

Lt. Riley crosses the base with nothing else on his mind but to get to you and when he does he finds you are completely lost in your work, none the wiser that you aren’t alone anymore until it’s too late. You don’t hear that signature click that means the main door is opening, nor the careful, but heavily booted footsteps padding across the floor in your direction. Just a few feet from you he stops and stares silently, waiting to see if you notice his presence. 

It doesn’t take long for you to feel a pair of eyes on you and looking up you come face to face with the person that was just on your mind. You can’t stop the way you hold your breath the moment your eyes connect as every involuntary process in your body gets interrupted by his sudden appearance. Desperately you try to regain composure and shake off that initial surprise; there is no need to make this awkward, it will only make things worse for yourself in the long run. 

Clearing your throat, you shoot him a smile. “Sir,” you greet him with a nod and a slight tremor in your voice that you quickly swallow back down. “Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone else to be here. Did you need something?”

The adrenaline makes your limbs tingle and instead of just standing there awkwardly as you wait for him to respond, you put your hands back to the task before you hoping to cause your nervousness to settle. If you have to stand looking into his face in the stillness of the room for much longer, you might combust and the risk of looking like a fool is enough to make you act out being too busy to give him your full attention. 

Standing this close with the lingering feelings from the reaction that happened the last time you were together, the lieutenant is overwhelmed and it makes him pause. That same magnetism that he had felt that night is already pulling him to you, until his composure falls apart faster than he can calm it. Still, there is a question on the tip of his tongue that he is choking to ask; it’s the whole reason he’s here and he’s not leaving without an answer no matter what.

“I need ya to stop and look at me,” he says as he steps in towards you. You discreetly take a deep breath as you set your things down to turn your face back to look up at him. 

He’s already scrutinizing your body language, focusing on any sign that might give him an idea of where your thoughts are at this moment. Those brown eyes catch how tense your shoulders are through your t-shirt, how your pupils seem dilated as you meet his gaze, and finally the way your hands tremble as they hang at your sides.  

“I want ya to tell me the truth, yeah?” he says with a nod.

You stare back at him, big doe-eyes sparkling in the overhead lights as your pulse runs fiery hot through your limbs with the growing anxiety from wondering what the hell is going on. “Yes, sir?”

The mask covering his face clings a little too tightly and the clothing on his chest traps in the heat rising in his body, making his skin clammy as he struggles to vocalize that loaded question he’s had swirling in his mind for days. Lt. Riley clears his throat; he thought he’d come up with something better than this, but thinking clearly has long gone now. All he can do is just spit it out. 

“Mactavish’s stupid fuckin’ dare, ya remember it? I keep thinkin’ ‘bout it and I need ya to tell me somethin’: was it all an act, the way we kissed?”

Fuck, how are you supposed to answer this?

There is warmth blossoming in your cheeks as the thumping grows stronger in your chest. His question is simple enough, yet there isn’t a simple way for you to answer. Tell the truth? Could you actually go through with something that risky? For all you know he could be asking just to tell you that the kiss is to mean nothing because it will never happen again, that he wants you to let it all go to clear the air of any misconceptions. You pray that that is not what he’s about to say, but as you silently think about how to answer, he pushes for you to stop avoiding the question.

“I need ya to answer me,” he says firmly, eyes never leaving yours. “Were ya pretendin’ or did ya not want it to fuckin’ end?” 

A sharp inhale of air does nothing in helping to calm your nerves; you just have to get on with it. “I-it…wasn’t an act,” you say. 

The lieutenant has his answer, that’s what he wanted, right? Just to hear you say that the spark ignited between you in those few ecstasy-fueled minutes were genuine; that is it, isn’t it? His curiosity is sated and he should be able to move on, but he can’t. With your confession comes something more, something that he can’t let go of, and that is now that he knows it was real he wants it again. It consumes him to the point that he cannot move away and instead steps in closer as he grabs your biceps, forcing you to move backwards until you find yourself against the wall directly behind you.

“Sir?” you ask to get his attention as he continues to stand there staring intensely into your face without so much as a sound. You hadn’t felt this overwhelmed by his presence since the night you two kissed, but now it is back to cloud your mind and set your pulse pounding through your limbs. 

Your furrow-browed stare wavers as you clear your throat and repeat your question again. “Sir?”

Consequences are an inconceivable concept right now; the only thing playing in his mind are how fucking soft your lips look and how he desperately wants to get lost in them again. The sensations of reliving that experience from that night in the rec consumes every molecule in his body until there is nothing left inside him except for you. 

He needs it, he needs it now, and as that deep, longing ache settles itself in his chest to cause his heart to pound so hard that he can hear the beat in his ears, he throws sensibility away as he moves to grab your hips firmly in his gloved hands. 

“We really shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he says, his body pressing against yours as he draws you in. “Ya know it’s trouble.”

His actions don’t match his words and the contradiction causes your mind to falter on what you should do. Did he want this to end or not? Does he even really know?  

“Do you want to stop, sir?” you ask timidly as your body begins to vibrate with the sudden, intense pleasure of his hands as they are back on you again. “You know we can just forget it; it’s really fine.”

One of his hands leaves the curve of your hip and travels upwards so that those long, covered fingers can string themselves through the strands of hair at the back of your head. “Who said I wanted ta forget, hmm?” he admits with his eyes firmly on your lips, watching as they part slightly so you can take quick, short breaths in and out. “Do ya think I wasn’t there, that I didn’t feel what was happenin’ between us that night? Ya think I could just forget all that? Do ya think I want to?”

His gloved thumb wraps around your face so that he can brush it over your bottom lip, letting the electricity pass through the fabric from his fingertips into your mouth. You gasp from the ache his touch leaves behind and he exhales heavily at your reaction. “Do ya know the fuckin’ power ya have over me after that? Shit, I’m riskin’ a lot just ta be here like this with ya again, knowing what could happen when we’re alone. All because ‘a one fuckin’ kiss.”

You swear if he doesn’t do something soon you are going to pass out; your mind is spinning in circles as the warm tension gathering between your bodies becomes unbearable. Only a small swatch of fabric covering his face keeps you both apart and yet you can still sense the heated air from his mouth as it sweeps across the delicate skin of your lips the closer he lowers his head.

He can’t do it, he can’t stop the way he craves you to the point of insanity right now. No, if he was going to stop it should have been long before now. As his hands cling to your body, there isn’t any chance that he is going to let you get away. He needs you, he has to have you, and it has to be right this fucking second to ease the painful longing that has kept him up all week.

Lt. Riley is gone; in his place is a depraved being that only yearns to feel that overwhelming passion that you gave him once again.

“I need more of the way it felt,” he groans adamantly. “I need ya, now.”

Before you can properly react to his heart-stopping statement, the lieutenant frantically wrenches his mask up and completely off his face, not wanting to be hindered at all from you anymore. All you catch is a crown of short blonde hair as he lets the cloth fall to the floor, closes his eyes, and leans in without another word to harshly smash his juicy lips together with yours in a reckless abandon that makes your knees buckle. 

Fucking hell it’s everything that he remembered and so much more; you taste like the best type of sin and he is ready to pay everything for it.

The force of his advance shoves your head backward into the wall as he takes your mouth with dizzying harshness, not hesitating to shove in his tongue to fill the cavity behind your lips to capacity. The tip of that wet muscle strokes across the roof of your mouth and the sensation causes your eyes to roll back into your head. If there was any doubt left in your mind, it has all dissipated now that his mouth is back on yours.

“Stop callin’ me sir. Say my name,” he forcefully demands in that husky, breathless tone, a yearning in his voice that makes your soul burn as he speaks those desperate words onto your skin. “Call me Simon.” 

You break from his mouth, your lips instantly desperate to form the word and say it aloud. “Simon,” you moan and it breathes new life into his name that he could never have predicted he needed.

Pining you tighter to the wall, he overtakes you rougher and rougher until the harshness of his movements abrades the skin of your mouth to make it swell and bruise. Relentlessly he siphones the breath from you to keep him going. That moist air fills his mouth so that he can speak. “Say it again,” he orders in a growl.   

It’s like honey as it rolls off your tongue and you can’t help but want to repeat it. “Mmm, Simon,” you whimper onto his mouth and goddamn the euphoria of having to swallow down the desperation in your voice suddenly awakens an insatiable ache that will need more to quench.

His gloves have to go, now, as his bare hands are burning to get their fill of your curves. Those thin pieces of fabric are hindering him from being able to connect with all that silky skin so that he can know what it feels like against his calloused palms. It is torment to be kept from all that ecstasy. Struggling to peel them off his fingers as he cannot pry his mouth away from yours at all, he finally frees those long, brawny digits and they waste no time in pawing wildly at your body. 

Greedy fingers recklessly claw and tear at your clothing, searching for an opening where he can penetrate to find enough balmy skin available to fill his hands until he cannot hold anymore. Deliriously and without looking he rips the pieces of your uniform up until he can get underneath them and let his fingertips get that first touch he has craved nonstop since the second he had pulled away from you that night. Those hungry lips continue to overwhelm your own as Simon is able to grab the hem and his hands have finally found their prize.

Laborious panting breaths fill up the space between you as the roughness of his hands grip into your hips and square them up against his own, pelvis’ grinding together in search of as much friction as they can find. Only a few layers of clothing keep your bodies apart, but that doesn’t stop Simon from rutting against you and you matching his movements. There is nothing else inside your head except the overwhelming euphoria of his touch along the lines of your body and the growing bulge in his pants that drills into you harder and harder the more it grows. 

No immediate danger is there to keep you both tame, no time limit looms over your heads that will force you to stop, and when two desperate things have nothing to lose, they simply let go. 

Every single one of his senses is overflowing with all of you: the feeling of your lips against his, the taste of your sweet breath in his mouth, the warmth of your skin brushing over his, the beat of your heart that he can feel through his fingertips, the sound of your quiet whimpers making his head spin. Goddammit you are eager, so willing to meet his advancements with everything you have; there is no question about what you want. And he cannot lie that he wants it too. You’ve both started down this path and there is no turning back; he knows it’s wrong, he knows he should stop, but he won’t.

You are in his veins, circling inside his mind, part of the very air he breathes; whatever risk comes with this could never outweigh the reward of getting to sate the hunger that has been driving him insane.

“Fuck it all,” he growls and suddenly his hands are under your arms and you are being hoisted up off the ground. 

Your body reacts from pure instinct by spreading your legs wide and wrapping them around his broad hips, securing yourself to him with a clench of your thighs together. Simon knocks a gasp out of you as he slams your back up against the wall to use it for leverage, his body crushing yours as he begins to grind up into you with that throbbing, engorged cock that is straining to break the zipper of his pants. 

Through your clothes he thrusts up into you with powerful strikes, hips rolling into yours over and over with desperation as he tries to get just a little bit more friction between your bodies. You use your thighs to help push yourself up off of him, bouncing over his crotch in response to mimic the way you’d fuck him. 

Simon knows he shouldn’t go any further, that he should slow things down because this isn’t the place, but he won’t. Everything is already so close, but still not close enough. He needs the real thing, not this cheap imitation. Even in the haze of this delirious union, there is only one thing he knows he has to do.

He has to get you both naked. 

Feverish fingers claw into the negative space between your bodies at the bottom of your shirt until Simon can find the hem. The cooler air outside of your clothing hits your skin with a tingle to make goosebumps appear as he pulls it up off your stomach and over the swell of your breasts.

“Lift up your arms,” he says quickly and your eyes flutter open so that you can follow the demand. 

In one swift motion the shirt is off and Simon doesn’t waste any time in ripping off his shirt as well. The feeling of skin to skin sends shivers of ecstasy down his spine as he presses against you. So soft, so warm, fucking hell is he in over his head. He leans in, bending forward so that he can kiss the tops of your breasts through your bra as he hands wander again between your bodies to the clasp on your pants.

Just as his fingers loop through the waistband, you hear the tail end of it. There is no mistaking it, it’s the signature sound of the door to the armory closing shut. You have no time to act as a private with a message from Captain Price enters in a hurry, not paying attention, and stumbles upon something he shouldn’t have under no fault of his own. 

“Lt. Riley, Price needs to see y–” the messenger says as he finally looks up, immediately stopping dead in his tracks as his cheeks flush bright red at coming face to face with the two of you half naked and twined together. 

The private is tripping over his words as an exasperated growl shuts him right up. “Outside; now,” Simon barks harshly through a heavy pant as he turns his head enough to lock eyes with the now terrified private. Quickly the young man turns tail and bolts for the door, stumbling over his feet to get out as fast as he physically can. Once the click from the door closing shut is heard, those brown eyes turn back to you.

Simon draws in a deep breath before his head falls forward to rest up against yours, foreheads pressed together as he just holds onto you for a moment. “Goddammit,” he curses under his breath in disappointment. 

Carefully he untangles his body from yours and sets you back down onto your feet. “Times up,” he repeats the phrase that ended your encounter the last time, though his tone is markedly more miserable this time, and you can’t help the way your stomach knots tightly. 

Simon grabs all your clothing back up off the ground, handing you your shirt back as he goes to put his own back on. You immediately redress and straighten your uniform as best you can with your unsteady hands. Everything gets tucked back in place once again as you wait for him to head out without a word, since this seems to be following a certain pattern now. 

But instead of simply walking away leaving you to agonize about if you will ever get a chance like this again, his arm reaches out and those long gloved fingers wrap around your belt buckle, gripping it tight in his hand so that he can drag you back against him. The other hand finds its way under your chin to force you to maintain eye contact with him; he needs you to hear him and make no mistake about what he is saying. 

“This isn’t over,” he murmurs as he guides your head forward to place one last, lingering kiss on your lips before he breaks away to situate his mask back down over his face. 

With that he turns and heads outside to the private patiently waiting to finish giving him the message from the captain. You let your eyes follow him the entire way out the door and only when he’s gone do you finally release the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. 

This isn’t over. The words repeat on a loop in your mind. Fuck, you sure hope so.

Now the question is: when?

Tagging: @spooky-pomegranate

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon smut #simon #ghost simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut #ghost cod smut #call of duty simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2

[yawnderu]

Lorelei — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader | Part I

1 2 3 4 5

Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

''So you're just goin' to sit there and tell me that isn't my daughter.'' Simon says bluntly, tone even yet carrying a snark hidden that you came to listen so many times after working with him— never once directed at you until now.

''It's really none of your business, Ghost.'' You don't even spare a glance at him, simply looking at your little girl, fingers gently running through her short hair. She looks exactly like Simon, though that will never take away your love for her.

''You're not denyin' it.'' He hesitantly sits down next to you, secretly afraid you'll bite his head off. The glare you shoot his way is enough confirmation that you would if you could. You sigh softly, the air leaving your lungs before being sucked back in, not wanting to argue in front of your little girl despite her not understanding words yet.

''Well, what's it to you? Why do you need to know?'' I can't handle you leaving me again.

''Don't be like that.'' His tone is soft, almost pleading. It has been over a year since he broke up with you, yet that doesn't make the loss any easier, not now that he knows he has a daughter, no matter how much you tried to hide it from him.

''Why didn't you tell me?'' He asks gently, feeling like he's walking on eggshells. It's the first time ever he feels that way with you, and he doesn't blame you in the slightest. It takes a few seconds of you thinking before you answer.

''I was terrified of you choosing to walk away from her... to be a deadbeat. I didn't want to have that image of you, because that would have hurt more than the break up.'' Your voice is more calm, though for all the wrong reasons. The familiar tingling all over your nose is back, eyes stinging as you try to hold back tears, too prideful to cry in front of him again.

''That's what you think o' me?'' He replies in nothing but pure disbelief and slight disgust. He would never walk away from his child, no matter how much that would destroy all the walls he has been building for years, stones upon stones carefully piled on top of each other, so strong nothing could ever break through— until you came along.

''I was fucking scared, okay?'' You look away and wipe your eyes with one hand, the other one carefully supporting the neck of the baby on your lap. Simon sighs, his bare hand hesitantly reaching down to trace the features of the tiny girl, being careful with her as if she would break if he applied any pressure. He notices your eyes glued to his hand, eyebrows furrowed. He's about to move his hand away until you adjust the little girl so he can touch her face without the awkward angle.

''Give me one more chance. Please— please, let me be a father to her.'' Simon never begged for anything, not even when he was tortured for months to no end, drugged, beaten like a dog, yet here he is; begging his ex for a chance to keep the girl in his life. You don't reply.

''I'll do everything I can. What I should've done. I want to be here, please.'' He was so damn ready to get on his knees and beg if that's what it took for you to let him be involved in her life. He's not asking you to be together— he knows he doesn't deserve that chance.

''She's looking at you like she knows you.'' Your response is ominous to say the least. You want to deny him, to tell him he doesn't even deserve to be able to touch the little girl you birthed alone, that he doesn't deserve the chance at a family after he destroyed 4 years of a relationship because of the very same thing, but... your little girl is looking up at him with pure admiration and curiosity in her big brown eyes, her tiny hand struggling to hold one of his fingers. Growing up with a single parent yourself, you know she deserves better, and you're willing to put your pride and pain aside to make sure she gets the world.

''Okay.'' You reply after taking a deep breath, holding it into your lungs for what feels like forever, choosing to ignore the strong arms wrapping around you, bringing all three of you close. It feels... right.

[NEXT]

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #call of duty #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost x f!reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #dad!simon riley #dad!ghost #ghost mw3 #mw2 x reader #mw2 x you

[disneyprincemuke]

5 times * mv1

there are five times max almost caught himself saying he loves you, and then there's the time that he finally let you know

pairings: max verstappen x horner's niece!reader

warnings: i... don't know?

notes: yes, i'm making a comeback because i've gotten back into the mood of writing (i'm single) and because f1 has got me screaming, crying and throwing up. also, this took me 3 days to write, and i have grown attached. lmk if you guys want the counterpart (basically the same concept, but it's from your eyes???)

one.

"fucking," max cuts himself off, grabbing the closest thing to him. lucky for him, and his team, it's just his racing gloves, "bitch!"

it's just so infuriating to be so close to that podium. he crashed with 5 laps left of the race. his left rear decided to fail him stupidly near the end, after he'd poured his heart and soul to get on that podium. but here he is, moping in his driver's room.

after constantly being in the scrutiny of the public, especially with the way he handled losing, he'd resided here immediately. there's a bubbling anger rising up from him. he's so infuriated.

until a soft knock lands on his door. snapping him out of his thoughts, he knew what he wanted this time. "please leave me alone."

"okay. but christian just wants to know if you're alright." your voice sounds small. he could barely hear you with the door in the way.

he takes a deep breath, then walks over to the door. it reveals you with a hesitant smile on your face.

but he's always had a soft spot for you. all of the anger he'd been feeling merely 5 seconds ago dissipated. "oh. you're not in my room at the circuit often."

"i know. i'm sorry to intrude." you look down at the ground, your often confident self absolutely nowhere to be seen. "christian sent me to check in on you. i'll leave you alone, but i can't go back without an answer."

for starters, you're not a stranger to the signature max verstappen temper. but never has he directed it at you once. it's surely raised the eyebrows of christian horner the first time it happened when you joined the team.

one second he was all over the garage, only rude words coming out of his mouth. the next, he was silently raging as he sat on the tire of his car while you discussed dinner plans with your uncle.

"please, don't worry about it." he takes a step back, gesturing for you to enter the room. you do just that, although a bit hesitant. and he doesn't blame you for that. "come in."

there's a moment of silence between you two. for a moment, the engines from the cars outside start to die down, and the frequency of the fireworks is slowing down, and there are more footsteps in the gravel that surround the trailer.

"i'm okay." he leans on the massage table in the middle of the room. he still hasn't changed out of his race suit. his helmet, balaclava and gloves are all thrown in different directions of the room. they had all been victims of his uncontrollable rage.

it's apparent that he's not even close to being okay. he just has to bank on the fact that you don't probe with more questions.

"it's okay if you're not," you answer in a gentle tone. a soft audible sigh passes your lips as you sit on the couch in the opposite side of the small room. "it's just you and me. i'm not part of your racing team."

his eyes do the speaking again. the heaving of his chest is enough to tell you that he's actually contemplating it. without another moment's hesitation, he starts to go at it. all of the emotions he's been feeling lately, the frustration from just being 5 laps shy of being on that podium.

he's just ranting, throwing his hands in the air while he paces all over the room. he makes a mental note to find a way to make it up to you after this - you're just sitting there patiently, nodding your head empathetically while he talks.

it’s as if you knew and understood all that he’s talking about.

"it's just unfair! i did everything right this time!" he exclaims, hands clenched up into a fist. "i should have been up there! i deserved to be on that podium!"

there's one more thing that bothers him. you. whatever he feels for you. the way his heart races whenever you're around, or the way he's always thinking of the way you fix his hair for marketing promotion material - he can't get you out of his mind. for years, now.

he'd met you when he was 18, fresh into red bull racing as christian's new prodigy. he had only seen you a total of 15 times within the span of 3 and a half years. the transition from crumbs of your presence to full-out spending the whole racing season with you was more than his heart could handle.

now that he's gotten to know you better, the 22-year-old is almost convinced that he might actually have feelings for you. "and-"

he looks up from the ground, flinching back slightly when you're staring directly into his eyes from across the room. your eyes dart down to his hands and it's only then he notices how his hands are clenched into fists next to him.

he almost slipped up about his feelings for you. good thing he caught himself at the last second. his chest heaves as he looks at you, shoulders tensed up and eyebrows furrowed.

you raise an eyebrow, slowly nodding. you make a gesture with your hand to encourage him to continue saying whatever is on his mind. "and?"

"and," i have feelings for you, "it's just so unfair."

he feels his body melt at your stare. his shoulders slump, his breathing starts to regulate and his hands slowly unravel from a fist. it's just so unfair that he's so hopelessly smitten with his principal's niece.

"i know." you push yourself off the couch and walk over to him. stopping just a few steps from him, he looks at you sigh. "i'm sorry that it happened to you, max."

then a small grin slowly stretches his lips. the race is over - there is absolutely nothing he can do to change the result. he shrugs, "it's just racing."

"you can still feel angry about it," you grin, "it's just me."

max shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "i know. it's okay; i'm okay."

you drop your head slightly. max knows you don't buy his lie. of course, he's still angry about what happened. but there is still some truth to what he said - he got unlucky today with the car.

you take a deep breath. he's caught completely by surprise when your arms spread out, taking a step forward and engulfing him in the warmest hug.

he catches a whiff of all your scents - your shampoo, your perfume, and creepily enough, the soap you use for your clothes. and he completely basks in your embrace, his arms wrapping themselves around your smaller frame. his neck rests on your shoulder, silently straining his back just to take you in.

"i know you're not," you whisper. you lean your head into his as you rub circles on his clothed back. "i'm here for you, okay?"

and he wants to say it to you. he gets an inkling, after you just spent the better part of 20 minutes letting him scream about his feelings, that this is bigger than himself.

"i," he trails off, arms tightening around you. he closes his eyes, repeatedly reminding himself that he's not willing to risk it. he releases the breath he's been holding. "thank you."

two.

max can barely keep himself upright in the seat. he's clutching onto his balaclava, eyes following the light shone into his eyes as per the doctor's request.

he had a bad crash with lewis during the race that sent him flying into the walls. he blacked out for a couple of seconds, and he's been in pain since they escorted him to the medical centre.

there's a soft knock on the door, before he hears the creak followed by footsteps. "i'll be back with results, okay?" the doctor straightens up before walking away from him. he acknowledges the presence of someone new, then proceeded to walk out of the room.

the relief max immediately felt when he sees you standing shyly by the door, hands clasped together.

"are you okay?" you ask softly, slowly making your way over to him. "i came as soon as i heard what happened to you. that was horrible, what happened to you."

he tilts his head at you, ignoring the strain in his neck and the pounding in his head. "as soon as you heard?"

you chuckle, glancing down at the floor in what could only be described as embarrassment. "i was in the bathroom taking a piss when geri ran in yelling for me," you admit.

your eyes roam his body, your eyes matching the empathetic stares of everyone he has looked at since he was helped out of that stupid car. he hates it. he hates being on the receiving end of those stares, but it was strangely comforting coming from you.

"are you alright? do you have any more injuries?" you ask. you look at him, hands hovering above his hand that rests on his knee. max gives you a small nod of consent.

"it's just a concussion, from what i can feel," max admits. though, it hurts everywhere. when you crash into a wall at that speed and black out, it's definitely going to hurt everywhere that it can.

he's watching you intently. you're lifting his sleeves to scan for bruises and moving about the neckline of his race suit to look for any injuries. there's a tingling sensation that you leave behind as your fingers graze over his now exposed skin.

"i'm okay."

"i don't buy that at all," you scoff. you reach over for the empty plastic chair and pull it to his side. you take a seat. "i'm glad you're okay. i was really worried something bad had happened."

he smiles. the way you care for him never fails to make his stomach churn and his heart start to race. "it could've been worse. i'm glad it's just a concussion i've got."

you turn your head to look at him. god, he wishes he can just take you in for an embrace and reassure you that he's perfectly fine. because he is. it's just some body aches - nothing he hasn't had to go through before as an athlete.

"i'm sorry about the race." you take his towel into your hands and fold it up. you gently tap on his face, wiping away the sweat that had formed on his face. "let me know if you need anything, okay? water, ice... food..."

"i will handle," he grins, his gaze following your hands' movements. "thank you, though."

you don't say anything. you just smile at him as you put the towel back down on his knee. you rest your hand just above the damp material and tilt your head at him. "how do you feel, though?"

"g-"

"about the points," you cut him off. "it's a close fight for the driver's championship. how do you feel about that?"

he shrugs, pouting his lips out. you widen your eyes at him as you anticipate the next thing coming from his mouth. "it's just racing. i'll come back next weekend."

you roll your eyes and lean back into the chair. both of your eyes are on the tv, watching the broadcast of the race together. "i believe in you. there's still a long season ahead of you."

he moves his eyes to look at you. not his head fully - he doesn't need you catching him stare at you. your unconditional support for him just made him want to jump for joy.

thought, sometimes he does wonder if you're only doing it because you work for the team. but other times you're just so believable that he thinks it's him as a person you're rooting for.

and god, he wants it to him so bad.

"it feels like forever - this pain," he admits. without thinking, his hand instinctively reaches forward. he puts his hand above yours. he squeezes your hand.

he sees you shake your head. you manoeuvre your hand. now your palms are touching. he could have sworn it was the concussion making him see and feel things when you intertwine your fingers.

if he were to be honest with you, he feels like this could the lowest point of the season for him. that rear failure earlier on felt minuscule compared to this crash. deep down inside, there's a fear that there's no coming back from this.

you squeeze his hand, slightly tighter than he had done to you just a few seconds prior. "i wish i could make it better. i'm sorry, max."

your voice wavers as you speak to him. and it kills him that you’re so worried for him. he does have a healthy support system, as much as the public wants to make it out that he’s too cold for that.

max wants to reassure you, just as you'd done with him. but he doesn't even know how to do that. your presence now, while he's still slightly out of it from the crash, is enough to put him at ease.

he sighs, squeezing your hand once more. it's at the tip of his tongue. if he could just convince himself to say it to you.

yet, he settles with, "you're the best."

three.

max leans back into the wall, arms folded over his chest. the strobing lights, the music bouncing off the walls, and a plethora of bodies surround him.

next to him, sebastian is deep in conversation with daniel. a conversation that he had tuned out of a few minutes ago. when he found you on the dance floor, terrorising alex and lily with your dance moves.

if you asked him, he would've told you that you're a natural at many things. dancing, unfortunately, is not one of them.

his silent pining comes to a halt when he meets lily's gaze from across the room. a knowing smile on the girl's face, he feels his cheeks heat up when she drags alex down to whisper something in his ear while pointing at max accusingly. alex turns his head in max's direction and his body shakes with a laugh.

great. they've caught on.

alex nods and raises his eyebrows at max teasingly. alex glances at you, shocked to find out that you've managed to shimmy your way 5 metres down the dance floor to now terrorise george and carmen.

max smiles to him, watching alex bend over backwards to get your attention. it's proven a challenge when you sandwich yourself between them.

when alex manages to finally get your attention, you just smile at him. you hand him the empty glass in your hand and grab carmen's hands. it's a wonderful sight - alex struggling to get your attention. but when he did, max swears his heart skips a beat.

because you lean into alex, listening to what he says into your ear. alex points in his direction and your face lights up when your eyes meets his.

you stride across the room and push yourself through the crowd. before he knew it, you're staring up at him with a toothy grin and wide eyes.

from the corner of his eyes, he notices sebastian and daniel have stopped their conversation. across the room, lily and carmen have flagged their boyfriends down. all eyes are on the two of you.

"what are you doing here all by yourself? you should be out on the dance floor celebrating!" you shout over the music, tiptoeing slightly to meet max's height. "you just won a race!"

"i'm good here, thanks!" max laughs, moreso at your state. your cheeks are puffed up and your lips are swollen. even your voice sounds damaged from all the screaming you've done. "enjoy your evening, please! don't worry about me!"

you shake your head in urgency. "no! you have to celebrate!"

he continues to look down at you, genuinely considering if he should let your persuasion tactics work on him tonight. who is he kidding; he can never say no to you.

"okay, but i'm driving us back to the hotel. so no drinks for me." before he could finish his sentence, you've managed to yank him off the wall. your hand has a firm grip around his wrist as you guide him through the crowd towards the bar counter.

"we'll get a cab!" you stop right at the bar and turn around to look at him. "you won the race today! aren't you excited? are you not at least a little bit prideful that you're leading the driver's championship again?"

max supposes you have a point. he should be excited. here he is in his 6th year in formula 1, being so close to clinching the world champion title for the first time in his life. it's just one night, right?

he can't possibly let you be more excited for his achievements than himself. that's just not right. did he not believe in himself?

he watches you prop yourself up on the bar stool, carefully telling the bartender your order. max's hands hover over your body, just in case you'd fall.

once again, you have managed to make his heart race by putting so much emphasis on his achievements. he's made his way onto the podium several times now that it seems almost mundane for him to end up there.

he wants the next big thing; he wants the world championship title. but why exactly is he waiting a whole few months just to celebrate again?

"come on, max! let loose a little. you don't have to wait for the season to be over to celebrate," you answer genuinely. for a moment there, max almost thinks you're sober. "if you don't want to celebrate your small wins, at least let me do it for you?"

he huffs. you're a lot more convincing when you pretend to be sober, after having downed a couple glasses of cocktails.

you tilt the unscrewed bottle of beer towards him, a freshly mixed glass of cocktail in your other. "congrats on winning the race today, max. i'm so proud of you."

max takes the bottle out of your hands. he willingly taps the neck of the bottle onto the rim of your glass. "cheers," he grins, watching you excitedly sipping away on your mojito.

if he could guess, you’re 6 glasses in. you’re definitely going to regret it in the morning.

you swiftly intertwine your fingers with his and start to pull him towards the dance floor. "let's go celebrate!"

you stop abruptly, your cocktail almost spilling all over your dress as he plants his feet into the ground. you squeeze his hand and look up at him shyly with your chests almost touching. even in the sea of people in the club, you managed to make it feel so intimate.

just you and him.

can he really excuse the words threatening to slip out of his mouth with half the bottle of beer in his system? can he just say it without you remembering it the next day?

but you beat him to saying something. "i'm so proud of you, max."

he smiles, letting a small breath out. he squeezes your hand. "thank you. you're the best."

four.

it's upsetting, really, not having you in the paddock all weekend. what you'd thought to be a simple itchy throat from all the sweets you've consumed had turned into a covid scare. you're isolated in the hotel, albeit having tested negative, already better.

the team couldn't risk getting either driver contracting a sickness. especially not max, a clear contender for the title this year.

max has not seen you since tuesday. the photos of him on the red bull racing social media platforms are just not as good when it's not you taking them. nobody else on the marketing team ever tells him his hair is a mess. neither do you - you always just reach in to fix his hair for him.

max huffs, adjusting his shirt as he stood in front of your hotel room. the small bouquet of flowers suffocate in the grip of his hands. a plastic hangs on his fingers.

the lock clicks. the door is slowly pulled open. there you are, in all your glory. your hair is up in a ponytail, you're in your pyjamas with juice in your hand. your eyes widen. "max! what are you doing here?"

with flowers in his hands, there's really only so many excuses he can make up. he tilts his head and his eyes narrow down. he's searching his brain for an excuse - something that doesn't scream the fact that he is hopelessly in love with you. "um..."

he stays in the hallway of the hotel, and you stay inside with your hand still on the door handle.

when he had gotten off the race track, alex had celebrated with him. at some point, max expected someone to bring it up. it just shocked him that it had taken this long.

alex gave him a firm pat on the back as they strolled the paddock after media commitments. and the question finally came up. "so are you ever going to ask (y/n) out?"

the question should not have even shocked him in the first place. he had been sitting around waiting for someone to ask him this. nevertheless, he was still dumbfounded by the question.

he started explaining - how he can never get around to asking you out. you're christian's beloved niece. first of the next generation. christian even introduced you as the daughter he had to raise before he ever thought about having kids of his own.

and alex gave him the weirdest stare. because everyone on the paddock could easily tell max had feelings for you. he didn't do much to hide it either. it'd apparently been so bad that even toto wolff sneaks around the paddock with questions if there's been progress.

and so, here he is, standing in front of your hotel room after having won his home race. when he managed to escape his pr manager, he took a shower and immediately bought flowers, some food and came straight to you.

he missed you all week.

"max?"

his answer comes out in a ramble. if you hadn't spent so much time with him, you probably wouldn't have understood. but in your week of absence, the driver doted on you with video messages, voice messages and pictures. endless updates with the grid, the drama, the placements.

anything to make it feel like you were still there with him.

"can i take you out on a date?"

his heart races. beads of sweat form on his forehead. the hallway, that had once felt so icy suddenly became so warm.

"what?" your jaw drops, eyebrows are raised in shock. the silence is deafening.

is this some kind of sick prank alex is pulling on him?

immediately, max goes into defensive mode. "i mean, it's okay if you don't! i just thought if i don't shoot my shot now, then i'll never know. i won't take it personally!" he lifts up the plastic filled with tupperwares of food. "i even brought you supper!"

you scoff with a laugh bubbling up from your stomach. you leap up from your spot, throwing yourself onto max. you lift your feet off the ground. his available arm wraps around your waist to stabilise you. his other arm, already busy with gifts for you, darts out to hold the door ajar.

and what does this mean, exactly? max verstappen has never been one to take these things for an answer. he needs is in black and white - in the clearest of clarifications.

"yes, of course!" you squeal into his shoulder. okay, now he can celebrate. it had taken you a solid 10 seconds in a tight embrace before you decided that the hotel's hallways were too exposing for your liking.

finally, he lets you guide him into the hotel room. he can't stop the wide grin forming on his face either. by the looks of it, neither can you.

"right. these are for you," max finally says, holding out the bouquet of flowers to you. "and i'm sorry i'm late. i could have gotten here earlier if it weren't for alex and lando fighting me over what flowers to get you."

your eyebrow raises, willingly receiving the flowers. "you were in cahoots with those two?"

"and george," max shrugs simply, scrunching up his nose. "but he was easier to deal with than those two."

you smile, if it's possible to get even bigger than what's already there, as your fingers lightly graze over the petals of the flowers. max simply stands back while he watches you admire the brightly coloured bouquet.

he's confident about one thing that night: what kind of flowers to get you. so when lando and alex were fighting him over which flowers to get you, they were simply debating over the roses.

but he is in the netherlands. what else could have been the right choice of flowers but the tulips? and he's in an expensive sport, after all. it would be so uncharacteristic of him to undermine the way he felt for you.

long story short, he got the most gigantic bouquet filled with striped tulips. he spent 150 euros. that's not even near the amount he knows he feels for you.

if you asked him for the world, he'd simply exhaust every single resource he has to give it to you.

"thank you so much," you coo, finally looking up at him. you lean in, pressing a firm kiss to his cheek. and he will absolutely spend the rest of his night thinking of this exact moment.

this is quite possibly the furthest he's gone with you. and he almost slips up again. he should've just said it, but he's just not quite sure he should. it's just going to scare you off.

"oh! and, congrats on the race win today," you cheer before pressing your lips against his cheek again.

max grins. he doesn’t know why he put it past you. you’ve made it clear you’re going to be his biggest fan. “oh, you watched the race?”

you’re gently laying the bouquet on top of the table in the corner of your room. “of course. it was a brilliant race. i'm so proud of you."

he just squeezes your shoulder. "thank you. you're the best."

five.

in his dark hotel room, the tv illuminates your face as your eyes lock on the movie you've chosen. it's the only way max can see your face. he'd love to be able to pay attention to this movie, but how could be when you're all tangled up with him.

"are you scared?" you suddenly mutter. your first words in almost 20 minutes, almost making him question if you're making conversation because you're falling asleep.

"what?" he's genuinely dumbfounded with the question. he glances at the tv, curious if he had dozed off long enough for you to choose another movie. but no. it's still mamma mia playing. "we're watching a musical."

max watches your body heave up, then down. "for tomorrow."

he tenses up. he's been trying his hardest not to think about it at all, actually. since he'd finished up his evening with media commitments, he just went straight to you in the garage office. he packed his bags and took you out to dinner.

he's secured pole position for tomorrow. he didn't want to think of anything else right now.

he doesn't want that stress passed on to you.

max hums, suddenly feeling an interest in the musical. it's meryl streep singing abba, after all. how can he not be any more interested? he shrugs. "okay, i guess."

he avoids your eyes. all eyes and remaining attention of the evening is on the actress belting out a song. and it's rudely interrupted when you pause it.

you stumble around, propping yourself up to your elbow to give him a stern look. "okay?" sometimes max forgets you're now his girlfriend. he forgets that he doesn't have to put up a front to shield you from his real emotions. "what do you mean 'okay'?"

he sighs. he turns his head back to face you, almost flinching at the glare you're giving him. he clears his throat as he pushes himself up against the arm of the couch. he sits cross-legged and you mirror his posture. he shrugs again. "i can't overthink it now. i just have to do my best tomorrow."

you throw your hands up in the air, scoffing. "what?"

max is at a loss for words. what response, exactly, did you expect out of him? "what?" he says back, hands also thrown up into the air. from the amount of time you've spent around him on the race track, he expected you to know his mindset when stepping into a race.

he can't overthink it before he even gets on the track. in fact, there is no room for that at all.

you resign to the other end of the couch and fold your arms over your chest. you even pull your feet back, not wanting to be in the range of his touch.

"(y/n), i don't know what you want me to say, darling," max responds gently. he's slightly annoyed, yes, but he doesn't want that to triumph your relationship. "you know the clear mind i need to get into a race. if i overthink, that's when it's over for me."

you roll your eyes. "no. it's just you and me. there is absolutely no way you have no opinions about the race tomorrow. not even a single thought? seriously, max?" you tear your eyes from him. "i'm not christian."

max sighs. he scooches over to you on the over end of the couch. though you squeeze yourself further into the armrest away from him.

he huffs, wrapping his arms around you. he pulls you in and presses a kiss to the top of your head. "of course, i have a thought in my head about the race. but if i let it get to me, darling, it can cost me the championship."

you hum, but there's a hint of annoyance. though, you give in. because you drop your head back on his shoulder and pout. "okay, fine. race your heart out, max. i just know you've got this."

he gives you a slight squeeze. a weaker one compared to others. honestly? he's terrified of screwing up tomorrow. he just wants that title so bad. all his life, he's worked for it.

he's simply afraid to let christian down. more importantly, he's afraid to let you down. though his handful of mental breaks about being so close to the final race of the season, you'd reassure him that you'll always be proud of him no matter what.

it's just not enough for him.

the movie starts to play again. you coddle up into his lap and he rests his cheeks on your head. i love you.

thank you, you're the best.

max has not been able to get the ringing out of his head since he crossed the checkered flag. he has not been able to think straight since then.

he just won his first world championship title. he's on his knees, his head resting on the tire. all 58 laps, all he could think of is how is he going to win? how will the season play out?

he finally lifts his head, dropping himself back to sit on the track of the abu dhabi track. he groans loudly, almost into a scream, as he unclips his helmet. he yanks it off his head, then his balaclava almost immediately.

he is feeling so many things.

then across the barrier, he sees you. eyes filled with tears, hair pulled back into a ponytail, in your very own red bull racing uniform. his stare down with you doesn't last long. christian is quick to yank you away.

and he spends the next 5 minutes scanning the crowd for you. sure, he wants to celebrate with the people that made it possible for him to even be there in the first place. but there is you.

"max!" your voice makes him whirl around. a sigh of relief slumps his shoulder. it's you.

his face lights up at the sight of you. just a minute ago, he felt so drained. he barely found it in himself to walk to his team for cheers. yet here he is jogging towards you.

"world champion, max verstappen!" you scream. you leap off the ground, legs quickly wrapping around his waist.

his arms wrap around your torso, just holding you close to his body. "i'm so proud of you," you cry into his already wet neck. you wrap your arms around his shoulders tighter. "i fucking told you."

he doesn't even know what to think. his mind is in a jumble of thoughts. it's undeniable that you had pushed him to his best this season. just having you there, reassuring him every single weekend. even when he crashed, even when he'd retired out of a race.

your legs slowly drop back down to the ground, and he finally gets a good look at your face. for some reason, you're just as sweaty as he is. the ponytail on your head is falling apart and the makeup running down your face almost makes him laugh.

then the excitement obviously hits you again. because you give him a firm and strong pat on his shoulder. "you proved them all wrong, max! you're a world champion!"

his chin is held high and his chest is puffed out. you'd never doubted him. it almost brings him to his knees how much support you had for him.

max is so full of emotion. the race, the title; you. you jump in your spot and clap, nose scrunching up in delight. "i told you this was your season! i knew it all along!"

and he just blurts it out. "(y/n), i love you."

you don't even hesitate. it's like you'd been waiting around to say it too. "i'm so fucking proud of you. i love you."

#it took me three days to write this #and for what #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke f1 #f1 x reader

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 (it’s getting out of control) of Charmed Slasher Simon.

Part 4 is here. (Master list coming soon)

(Slight warning for a coworker being a bit of a pushy creep but Simon handles it)

“Riiiiileyyyy.”

Ah, that’s your naughty voice. It means he’s going to want to do awful, terrible things to you out of pure endearment for your cheek.

He turns, arches an eyebrow as you nearly skip up to him. Your hair is shorter.

“New haircut?” he asks as if his fingers aren’t twitching to bury in it and pull your head back.

“Yup! Thought about dyeing it orange, but decided it would clash with my flat.”

He snorts, gives in to the urge to curl a strand around his finger, watches it bounce back into place. You don’t seem to mind, sticking your cute little tongue out at him. (If you’re not careful, he’s going to put you on your knees and have you wrap it around his cock right there.)

“Sensible choice,” he replies, “yellow is more your color.”

You giggle, aren’t bothered by his flat, almost inflectionless tone. “You think?”

“Highlighter yellow. Or maybe banana.”

“Hey, I like bananas!”

He smirks. “Oh yeah? Big ones?”

You shove at him, face going hot. He doesn’t move an inch, not that you were trying hard. Touchy little thing. You remind him of those little birds that flutter around lions, picking and pecking right under their noses, amusing themselves with death.

“Don’t be icky, Riley.”

“Icky.”

“Gross nasty.”

“We’re name calling now?”

“It’s not name calling if it’s true.”

He clicks his tongue, ushers you into the building.

“There a reason for the new hair?” he asks, eyeing it. It’s pretty, don’t get him wrong. But he didn’t know you were getting your hair cut today.

“Fancy office party tonight,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “My stylist just managed to get me in, but now I’ve gotta rush to get ready.”

“Now who said you could go out?”

“What are you gonna do, stop me?” you laugh, clearly thinking he’s teasing. He’s not. If you looked at his face, you’d know it. But you’re busy fussing with your keys, trying to unlock your door.

“I might.”

“Oh, you stop,” you huff, shaking your head. “It’s not even movie night!”

He’s been coming over once a week to watch a movie and drink with you. One of you picks the movie, the other picks the takeaway. He always chooses a horror movie, likes how your eyes water when you get truly scared. You refuse to watch slashers (haven’t told ‘Riley’ why) but you’ll indulge paranormal ones.

It’s not movie night - those are on Saturdays. This is Friday.

“What if I just kidnap you?” he asks. “Keep you in all weekend?”

You hum as if in thought, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Could I go back to work on Monday?”

“Have to see how I’m feeling on Sunday.”

You giggle. “A tempting offer, but you’ll have to settle for kidnapping me just for Saturday.”

“I don’t think you understand how kidnapping works.”

“I’d be a terrible hostage,” you say. He arches an eyebrow, inviting you to continue. “I have to pee when I’m nervous, I’d be talking their ear off - and! I cry like, so much.”

Oh he knows. He thinks of tears running down your pretty face when he cums.

“Some kidnappers like the crying. Theyre sadists.”

You scrunch your face. “But it’s like… gross crying. Total mess. And I make dying seal noises.”

No, you don’t, not in his experience with you at least. But he’s not going to explain that to you.

“Didn’t you have something to get ready for?” he asks because he’s violently wrestling the urge to make good on his threat.

“Fuck!” You glance at your watch, brows scrunching. “If I’m late, I’m blaming you, Riley Simmons.”

“Oh no.”

You stick your tongue out at him one last time and disappear behind your door.

—

He hears you come back at 11:30, has been waiting up. Pauses when he hears two sets of footsteps, a man’s voice talking to you. A wave of bloodlust nearly drowns his better sense.

You brought someone home from a work event? Did you lie to him and go on a date?

“Well, thanks for walking me to my door, Brandon.”

“Was happy to. Don’t want anyone snatching you up off the street now, do we?” An annoying laugh. Yours sounding a little flat and strained joining him.

“Oh, hey, mind if I come in?” Brandon asks. So casually, as if the yes is expected.

Simon’s hands ball into tight fists.

“Ah, it’s pretty late…”

“Well, that’s what Saturday is for, right?”

Oh. That little roach. Simon’s going to hang him by his own guts.

“I have plans tomorrow, actually.”

Good girl.

“That’s alright,” Brandon persists. “Just one drink. Least you can do since I went out of my way, right?”

“I mean, you didn’t have to, I would have been fine.”

There’s some genuine annoyance in your voice this time. Simon’s proud.

“Nah, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go home after having drinks?” Brandon chuckles.

“I didn’t have that many - and anyway I’m here now, so…”

“And so am I. At least a little something for my troubles?”

And Simon hears just the slightest, faintest ruffle of clothes.

That’s enough.

Simon yanks his door open and steps out. You’re nearly pancaked to your own door, head snapping to him with relief.

“Riley!”

Brandon takes a step back, expression stormy. Simon almost laughs. Little prick is barely taller than you, has done hard work maybe twice in his life. His hands look softer than yours. And he’s wearing a sweater vest.

“Did we wake you up?” you ask.

Simon saunters down the hall towards you. The closer he gets, the more nervous Brandon gets. But you seem to relax a bit more with each step, even shift towards him.

Very good girl.

“Was already up.” He doesn’t look away from Brandon, radiating menace.

You hum in understanding - know Simon keeps late hours. Brandon clears his still-intact throat and you jolt a bit, expression wilting.

“Oh, um. Riley this is my coworker. Brandon, this is Riley, my neighbor.”

“How do you do?” Brandon replies stiffly.

Simon’s not playing along.

“You try to push her again, someone will be pushing you in a wheelchair the rest of your life. Understand?”

Brandon sputters while your eyes go adorably wide, expression caught between horror and gratitude. Like you don’t know if you should be condoning his threats.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Not yet, but you will if I see you here again, yeah?”

Brandon’s face drains of blood. You press your lips together.

“Now get the fuck out. I’ve got her from here.”

Brandon, worm that he is, scurries away with a hasty “see you Monday”. You don’t reply, too busy blinking up at Simon with parted lips.

He chucks you gently under the chin, eyes narrowing in amusement.

“Off to bed. I’m kidnapping you tomorrow.”

You audibly swallow, then nod.

“Thank you.”

“Good manners.”

#thoughts™️ #cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #slasher ghost #charmed ghost #final girl reader

[devildomwriter]

Mammon Birthday Special 100 Fun Facts

1. Mammon states that he sleeps in the nude

2. Mammon despises witches and was nearly chopped into pieces by them once but Lucifer rescued him (although Lucifer was also the one to recommend they cut him into pieces)

3. When Levi tried attacking Mammon in his sleep, before he could even bring his foot down on Mammon, Mammon had him in a headlock

4. Mammon has a habit of stripping while drunk

5. Mammon does not like it when bath’s smell like flowers

6. Mammon’s dream for the future is having a carefree and playful life

7. Mammon starts his baths by washing his head

8. Mammon’s fear of ghosts and monsters originates a little after a year of living in the Devildom when he is possessed by a ghost

9. Mammon hates a Devildom song called “Corpse Rock”

10. Karasu refers to Mammon as noodle-boy

11. In earlier chats and Devilgrams Mammon is said to be a cat person, in later stories he is said to be a dog person, but his birthday information card again states he is more of a cat person

12. Mammon’s motto is “Money will makes the Devil turn millstones.”

13. Mammon’s daily activity is procrastinating in MC’s room

14. Mammon is obsessed with his shades and when he accidentally breaks them he’s devastated

15. According to Beelzebub, Mammon is bad at cooking and doesn’t make good peanut butter sandwiches

16. When Belphie and Beel helped Mammon pick out his human world outfit, he was so touched he bought them their human world clothes

17. Mammon states if the Devildom disappeared tomorrow he’d borrow as much money as he wanted to spend and not have to pay any of it back

18. Mammon’s favorite food in hell is Soy Sauce flavored cup ramen

19. In a love survey in B’s log, Mammin is said to be the active one pursuing love

20. Mammon is said to attract the “sassy and outgoing” types

21. The first thing Mammon does in the morning is check his stocks

22. In the love survey in B’s log when asked if he’d want to be bound by or bind his lover his response was “what do you want me to do? What did you say? Idiot!”

23. Mammon’s car is a Demonio 666 Lexura. The specific type was very rare and (unbeknownst to him originally) only with Lucifer and Diavolo’s help was he able to get it

24. Mammon easily forgets anniversaries and special dates of remembrance

25. Mammon is unable to express himself frankly

26. Mammon likes R&B music

27. Mammon is not a morning demon

28. One of the first things in the game said about Mammon by his brothers is that he’s a masochist

29. The results of a demon brain scanning app showed that Mammon’s thoughts are 90% money

30. Mammon’s worst RAD subject is Hexes and Curses

31. Mammon became Lucifer’s attendant in the Celestial Realm before Leviathan had even been born

32. Mammon was once almost roasted alive by hellfire

33. Mammon is a very bad liar and often admits exactly what he did when explaining that’s not what he did

34. Mammon was almost the one to tame Cerberus but Lucifer rushed in as he was about to confront the dog

35. Mammon is extremely protective of his little brothers

36. When forced to be honest, Mammon admits how much he admires and respects Lucifer

37. When Lucifer has a bad day, Mammon will bring him a drink and sandwich without being asked

38. Mammon was almost kicked out of the celestial realm thousands of years before the fall until Lucifer got through to him

39. Besides the people who were told what Simeon was going through in season 4, Mammon was the first one to notice something was wrong with him

40. Once Mammon was punished by Lucifer by being tickled until he laughed so hard he was humiliated

41. Mammon was given a serum with unknown results that caused him to tell MC he wanted to do many explicit things with them

42. Even Michael was unable to handle Mammon as an angel

43. Mammon is so fast that not even Diavolo and Lucifer can catch up to him

44. It’s been mentioned multiple times that Mammon uses crows as familiars

45. When Lucifer cannot trust Diavolo, he turns to Mammon

46. Mammon once called up Simeon to ask about significant lines in the TSL series so he could successfully hack into Leviathan’s akuzon account

47. Levi and Mammon sometimes perform standup comedy

48. When Mammon tried making a cake for Lucifer on his birthday in the Celestial Realm, he accidentally destroyed the kitchen, infuriating Michael

49. Mammon works as a model occasionally

50. In lesson 11 of the game Mammon claims he is well over 5,000 years old

51. In the celestial realm Mammon would often watch over the younger angels

52. Mammon once tried selling bird feathers to the lesser angels, claiming they were seraph feathers

53. In the celestial realm, Mammon once used the lesser angels to play a game of life-size chess

54. Mammon is said to have been the one who rallied and encouraged the angels in the Celestial war

55. Unlike his brothers, Mammon doesn’t often lose control of his powers

56. Whenever Mammon comes up with solutions to a crisis, they usually make things worse

57. Mammon struggles with math unless he thinks about it as calculating money

58. Mammon loves pandas because they’re profitable

59. Mammon always lets his brothers know about sales and deals going on

60. Mammon is the one who told Lucifer to always have pride and not regret his decision about the war

61. Mammon was cursed to speak like a cat during season 4 and Satan was unable to leave his side even getting Mammon to play with cat toys.

62. The first time Mammon lost control of his powers and transformed into a demon in the game is when he misunderstood a conversation between Levi and MC and assumed they had “relations”

63. Mammon is one of the only people who will indulge Asmodeus and watch his one-man fashion shows

64. When Mammon put too many meals on Satan’s tab, Satan called up Solomon and told him Mammon wanted to try his new recipe

65. Mammon has kidnapped MC multiple times

66. Mammon sometimes goes clubbing with Asmo after part time jobs

67. After Mammon sold all of their silverware he was fired from Ristorante Six

68. Mammon is sometimes referred to as MC’s pet

69. Mammon continues to insist he’s MC’s master not the other way around

70. Mammon sees Luke as his little brother

71. Student council members used to oversee detention until Mammon kept getting detention himself

72. Mammon once accidentally cast a spell on himself that made him burst into song

73. Mammon once accidentally turned himself into a dog

74. Mammon accidentally cursed himself and became extremely small. He was scared of how Beel was looking at him

75. When Mammon made the Miss’em dolls he became extremely wealthy but later blew it all on gambling

76. Mammon is too scared to watch horror movies alone and asks Lucifer to watch them with him

77. Mammon once attacked Lucifer with a three-prong pitch fork when he embarrassed him

78. Mammon has cried from fear of Simeon multiple times

79. Mammon was unable to even pretend to break up with MC

80. Mammon is one of the reasons you need a permit to get to the human world rather than do so freely

81. Mammon got a Mohawk once but his brothers teased him so much he immediately got rid of it

82. Mammon loves the Devildom version of Harry Potter

83. Mammon often threatens lesser/younger demons to hand over all their money

84. Mammon once stopped a bank robbery and demanded the money as compensation

85. Mammon accidentally cut down a Christmas tree gifted to Lucifer from Diavolo

86. Mammon was tricked by Lucifer to gamble against everyone he’d ever screwed over all at once

87. Mammon calls going to the horse races “seeing the horsies” to try and convince MC to tag along

88. When he was Lucifer’s attendant, Mammon sought for a rare Crystal Lily flower to gift him but got lost and Lucifer had to come find him

89. Mammon used Serenity Manor as collateral in gambling as soon as he got to the human world, almost forcing everyone to go right back to the Devildom

90. When coming up with proposal’s Mammon forced Simeon, Solomon, and Luke to participate in a flash mob

91. Mammon has a blood oath with MC and Leviathan

92. Mammon accidentally won Henry 1.0 while trying his first Devildom ice cream. He was nearly eaten.

93. Mammon owns an AK-47 after winning it over in a game against Leviathan

94. Mammon fees guilty that he didn’t have a grand reason to follow Lucifer to hell rather than just feeling like it

95. Mammon once lost a bet to a bunch of rabbits

96. Mammon prefers spicy foods to sweets

97. Mammon extorted Satan for 50,000 Grimm in exchange for throwing him a baseball

98. Mammon’s highest known rank in the celestial realm within the game is a Throne

99. When Mammon was turned into a Test Name box he got used to it immediately, disappointing Beelzebub

100. Mammon died in season 4 for a few minutes but was brought back by Barbatos

#obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me fun facts #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus

[cutielando]

period ~ charles leclerc

Summary: You’re having very bad period cramps but not to worry, Charles is here to save the day!

Words: 1.1k+

Other works: my masterlist

a/n: thank you so much @rayaharper for requesting this !!❤️

♡♡♡♡♡

You hated being a woman.

Well, that wasn’t technically true.

You hated specific parts of being a woman. Like periods, for starters.

The pain that always enveloped you every month was the most barbaric thing you had ever felt in your entire life.

From headaches, backaches, all the way to your tummy cramping up and simulating what it would feel like to get stabbed in the gut hundreds of times over and over again. That’s how you would describe the cramps.

Charles, of course, tried to help as much as possible. He knew the signs that your period was approaching a week before that. 

You would be crankier and more emotional than normal, you’d complain about the fact that your breasts were sore, you’d be bloated and would raid the cupboard you had with chocolate and all kinds of junk food.

He knew you already. 

And when your period would finally come, it would be like a switch was turned on in his head.

He’d turn into the most attentive boyfriend and human being you had ever met. Asking you if you needed anything, if he could bring you anything to eat or drink, encouraging you to take some pain medication to help ease your suffering, offering to just lay with you and hope his presence brings you some comfort. 

He had even mastered the art of heating up your water bottle to perfection. 

You really couldn’t have asked for someone better to handle you when you were on your period.

And just like every month, you were now bound to your shared bed, snuggled under 3 blankets with your head buried into your soft pillow, small groans and whines coming from you every once in a while.

Your period had just started a half an hour before, but it was already swinging in with fresh forces.

Charles has been on the simulator for the past hour, so he didn’t know that you were currently dying of pain in his bed. You figured there was no reason to bother him, it happened every month and you were already used to it.

But you regretted it as soon as your body hit the bed. You wanted the warmth of your boyfriend, his arms around you in a hug that only he could give you, have his undivided attention and just lounge in bed with him.

And yet you couldn’t even find the energy to get out of bed and go to him. You couldn’t even find the energy to take your phone and maybe send him a message.

You would just have to wait for him to finish his game and come looking for you. He shouldn’t be that much longer, right?

God seemingly took pity on you, because not even 5 minutes later the bedroom door opened and Charles stuck his head in to see what you were doing.

“Amour?” his voice was soft, thinking you would be asleep and not wanting to wake you up.

You only grumbled from under the covers, which immediately alarmed your boyfriend.

“What’s wrong, mon amour?” he now fully opened the door and hurried to your side of the bed, slowly caressing your cheek and brushing your hair back from your face.

“Cramps” you mumbled out, almost sighing in relief once his hand made contact with your skin.

He immediately knew what you meant, mentally kicking himself that he had not come to check on you sooner.

“I’ll go get you some medicine and prepare your heating pad. Do you want anything else? Something to eat, maybe?” he said, smiling when you opened your eyes to look at him.

“Maybe some chocolate?” you smiled cutely, making him smile and nod.

He leaned down to kiss your forehead before he hurried out of the room and towards the kitchen.

Immediately getting to work, he put some water to heat up and got your medicine, also finding the chocolate that you always craved when you were on your period.

As soon as the water was heated, he poured it into the heating pad he had got you and hurried up the stairs, not wanting you to be in any more pain.

“There we go, amour. Drink this” he said as he sat next to you and handed you the pills and a glass of water.

You slowly sat up and swallowed the pills, taking the pad out of his arms and putting it on your belly.

“Did you bring the chocolate?” you asked, searching for the sweet relief.

He nodded and handed you the bar from behind him, smiling when he saw how your eyes lit up when you saw the chocolate in your line of vision.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked, caressing the side of your leg.

“Cuddles?” you asked, making grabby hands at him and patting the empty spot next to you.

He smiled and immediately got rid of his clothes until he was only in his underwear, knowing that you loved the warmth of his body when he had nothing on.

The moment he laid down next to you, you latched onto him like a koala, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in the crook of his neck to inhale his scent.

You guys stayed like this for half an hour, having turned on the tv in the meantime to pass the time quicker. 

Charles tried to be as still as possible, thinking that you had fallen asleep.

“Thank you, Charlie” you mumbled, making Charles surprised that you hadn’t already fallen asleep.

“For what?” he was confused, he hadn’t done anything that would require something like that.

You lifted your head from his chest, his eyes softening when he saw the adoration in your eyes as you looked at him.

“For taking such good care of me. I know I get cranky and irritated and all, I appreciate you being patient with me” you explained, settling your head on his chest again and starting to play with the string hanging from his hoodie.

“You don’t have to thank me for that. Being on your period is normal and I know how bad your cramps can get. I just want to make you feel better in any way that I can” he said, wrapping his arms more tightly around your frame and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you” you whispered, eyes closing and sleep finally coming to you.

“I love you too”

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#imagines #oneshots #fanfiction #one shot #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc ferrari #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc story #charles leclerc series #charles leclerc scenarios #charles leclerc x female oc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc masterlist #cl16 x you #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine

[bleedingoptimism]

𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚

part 1

“You look pale,” Jeff comments making Eddie snort loudly.

Of course he looks pale, he’s got vampirism, doesn't he? But then again, so does Jeff and he looks great.

“When was the last time you fed?” He asks.

Eddie sighs heavily trying to reign in his bad mood. He knows Jeff’s just worried and wants to help, and he’s grateful to have run into an old friend from high school as soon as he moved into the big city. 

Because he’d be utterly lost without him.

He doesn't know where anything is, he gets lost in the subway, and he has no idea when he’s being charged too much for a muffin or suspiciously too little for a hotdog, or where all the blood markets are.

“Like, two weeks ago,” Eddie finally answers.

Jeff looks surprised but it’s not actually that bad, people with vampirism can go up to 4 to 5 weeks without blood. 

It’s not the same as those vampires from movies and books, they still eat food and they can stand in the sun with just minor cases of sunburn. There’s also the light sensitivity, making them all look like assholes wearing sunglasses everywhere.

Also, they are not allergic to garlic. Which, thank the heavens because Eddie loves garlic, a lot.

There’re a couple of side effects that do come in handy sometimes, like augmented hearing and smell. And the healing spit is super weird but nifty. No super strength regrettably, that would’ve been awesome.

Anyways, it’s like they have super anemia or something.

“I went to a blood bar, hooked up with some dude but. I didn't have a good time, at all. I kind of don't want to go back to bars for a while,” He elaborates and when Jeff frowns worried, he shakes his head,

“No, not like that. It’s just… the dude was like way too into it, you know? It kinda freaked me out.”

“What do you mean? Don't you find it hot? When you feed?” Jeff asks him, curious. 

Eddie nods quickly, “Yes, of course I do! It can be really sexy with the right person, but this guy, he was like- like way too loud and like, he was faking it? I don’t for who, though. And halfway through it, I started getting worried I’d accidentally hired someone instead of just hooked up and I didn’t have any money, and then I started thinking about money and my dick-”

“Ok! Ok, I get it.” Jeff thankfully interrupts him. “Dude, why didn’t you say something, I know of a place. I didn’t mention it before because it’s kind of boujee and handles itself a little differently.” 

“Oh? Do tell” Eddie tells him excitedly, he loves going to new places, especially if they are weird.

“Well, it’s real private, like ‘can’t get in unless you are on the list’ private. And it’s run by this girl. Blonde little thing, super cute. Scary as fuck. Everyone calls her ‘The Boss’” he says doing air quotes.

“Dramatic, I like it.” Eddie smiles.

Jeff chuckles, “So the gist of it it’s you go there and just hang out normally, like any other kind of bar. The place is beautiful, the music is good, and the drinks are delicious. But what's interesting about this place is the hostesses,” he says and even does a little pause for effect before continuing, “Similar to a blood bar there’re people there willing to be fed on but what’s cool about it is they get to choose.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, “That sounds kind of fun, actually.”

“Right? And it feels, safer somehow? For them?” Jeff agrees and Eddie nods and smiles at him, waiting for him to keep going.

“Anyway, the hostesses choose and then you get to go upstairs and talk through what you want to happen, just feeding, sex, talking, anything they agree to, it's on the table. I once ended up just playing a game of Uno with the girl I fed on and two other hostesses that hadn't picked anyone that night.” he finishes and Eddie laughs delightedly.

“Ok, this place sounds amazing, what’s the catch?” 

“Well, you have to pay an entry fee, the drinks are expensive and there’s always the possibility you’ll leave empty-handed. The first time is free though,” Jeff says.

“Like drugs,” Eddie replies and Jeff nods solemnly, 

“You know the hostesses can be kind of addicting.” 

…

That night, on the way there, Jeff tells him they have to sign a guest list at the entrance,

“No one uses their real name, not because the place is shady or anything! But because they want to leave that choice to us and the hostesses if you ever get too close with one. It's not like, frowned upon.”

Eddie nods listening intently, he feels kind of nervous in a way he hasn't in a while, but he’s not sure why.

“Also, secret nicknames are fun! I’m known as Jay there. So please don’t dox me. Or yourself.” Jeff tells him.

After careful consideration, Eddie smiles and says, “I’ll be… Strider”

“Nerd”

“Shut up, you are just jealous you didn't come up with it yourself”

Jeff laughs, “You got me there,” he says, and then, “We are here” and he opens a big glass windowed door and vows to Eddie, inviting him in.

Eddie chuckles and enters and immediately almost runs into someone—a tall, massive guy with short curly hair and the shadow of a beard.

“Hey freak,” Jeff greets calmly, “He’s with me,”

Eddie cringes at the nickname, bad memories from high school bullying. But the dude just nods and gives Jeff the tiniest of smiles, so he figures it’s the nickname the bouncer chose for himself.

They enter and sign their name in the guest book, a girl about their age with dirty blond hair and hundreds of freckles on her nose and cheeks is there and she asks Eddie a couple of questions. Not in a weird way, but in a ‘you are new and I’m curious’ kind of way.

Eddie feels comfortable and excited as they go in.

Jeff was right, the place is beautiful. The lobby leads to a big room with high ceilings and fake candle-lit lamps. The chairs and tables are antiques and all different but roughly the same time period so they look good together. There’re old signs and posters from all kinds of drinks and different products adorning the walls. And the music is instrumental and oldie too, sounds like probably 40s or 50s.

It is incredibly boujee. But in a fun way, cozy and warm.

They get a seat at a small round table in a corner and Jeff lets Eddie look around for a while before asking,

“So? Weird right? It’s like stepping into another time,”

Eddie snorts, “Yeah, one that has no idea which time period it wants to repre- who is that?”

Jeff looks at where Eddie is looking and sighs, “Of course you noticed Sunshine,”

“Sunshine?” Eddie sighs.

“That’s what they call him. Because apparently he smells like flowers and summer and tastes like orgasms or something,” Jeff says amused rolling his eyes.

The guy, Sunshine, is probably the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life, definitely the most beautiful man in this room. His face is a contradiction of sharp and round angles that is just absolutely perfect, and he’s wearing a black suit that clings to his body like a second skin, showing off his big shoulders and his tiny waist. He’s looking around the room with big, brown eyes that look bored as he leans against a wall like he’s above it all, he’s a fucking dream.

Eddie swallows audibly and looks smirking at Jeff for a second before his eyes drift back to the man, “Tastes like what, you said” he teases and Jeff snorts.

“Not that anyone would know, as far as I know, he’s never taken anyone upstairs,” he tells Eddie in a conspiratory tone.

That makes him incredibly curious, “Really? Why is he still here then?”

“I don’t know for sure, mostly rumors but he’s the boss’s favorite, that’s for sure. Oh!” Jeff exclaims and then nods his head to a girl sitting on the other side of the room, in a big fancy-looking chair that looks more like a throne than a simple piece of furniture.

She’s got blonde hair up in a ponytail and she’s wearing a flowery dress but there's something about the way she looks around the room, something about the way people walk around her and look at her, with respect or fear, or maybe both. She’s fucking intimidating.

While Eddie’s looking, the girl from the front desk, with the freckles, comes to sit on a small stool beside the “throne”, there’s another one on the other side that’s empty. The blonde girl moves her hand towards freckles and she kisses it and then her shoulder and smiles as she leans in closer and starts whispering to her.

It’s kind of surreal. 

“That’s The Boss, and the girl from the entrance, that’s Sparrow. She’s her girl.” Jeff explains.

“Respect for looking scary in a sundress,” Eddie comments.

And Jeff nods, “Anyways my theory is, Sunshine is actually just a bodyguard and not a hostess but the people that come here like to think they actually have a chance with him, so no one says anything to the contrary.”

Eddie snorts and nods, it makes sense. It's actually very good marketing, just like the ‘the first one is free’ thing. That boss girl is really smart with her business.

Jeff and he get a few drinks and they chat calmly, Jeff isn't looking to go upstairs tonight, he only came by to accompany Eddie and Eddie knows he should be looking around, trying to make eye contact with someone, but he can stop staring at Sunshine.

He even looked at their table at one point, and Eddie thought he was going to faint. He was scanning the room as he apparently does every couple of minutes when he caught Jeff’s eye and Jeff lifted his hand in greeting.

And Sunshine’s face completely transformed, his bored calculating expression changed into a beautiful smile that made his eyes shine. He wiggled his fingers at Jeff cutely before going back to looking like fucking Droopy Dog. If Droopy was the sexiest motherfucker alive. It was amazing to see.

Eddie’s jaw almost hit the table and he turned to look at Jeff stunned and he just shrugged,

“Sunshine was one of the hostesses I ended up playing Uno with. He’s fucking vicious,” he says smiling at the memory.

Eddie chuckles as his eyes follow Sunshine moving across the room, he just can't. Stop. Looking.

But the thing is, Sunshine is looking back now. Keeping eye contact with him obviously and unashamed. It’s thrilling and it makes shivers run down his spine.

He watches as Sunshine sits on the stool on the other side of The Boss’s throne and grabs her hand and holds it, intertwining their fingers. 

The Boss and her girl turn and look at him and the three of them start whispering, looking at him.

“Dude,” he says and turns to Jeff to see if he’s seeing what he’s seeing.

Jeff looks from him to the whispering party, “Un fucking believable, first time here and tonight is the night Sunshine is taking someone upstairs” he says looking fed up, but clearly in a joking manner.

“Is that what you think it’s happening? No way,” Eddie shakes his head as Sparrow says something that makes The Boss chuckle but Sunshine speaks up and she sobers up immediately. Curious.

“He’s looking right at you, he probably went to ask Sparrow about you,” Jeff insists.

“Maybe he’s looking at you”

“He’s seen me before,” Jeff scoffs.

He’s about to reply but their conversation gets interrupted by someone shily clearing their throat. A girl, a hostess, is looking at him with curious eyes, and shit… she’s cute and looks like a nice person but, Eddie can’t- he needs to know what those looks from Sunshine meant.

He needs him.

He looks back at the group quickly to see Sunshine and The Boss in deep conversation and Sparrow… is she glaring at him?

He rejects the girl, as nicely as possible and Jeff scoffs and murmurs ‘unbelievable’ under his breath again as Eddie turns to look back at Sunshine.

Who is walking toward them, holy shit.

“Holy shit,” Jeff says and then moves to stand. Eddie grabs his wrist and tries to pull him back.

“Wait what are you doing, dont-” But Jeff frees himself and starts walking away,

“Good luck!” He sings songs and then leaves him alone.

part 1: you are here

part 2: 👄

part 3: 🩸

bonus content: ☀️

ao3: 🌙

art: 🦇

coffee?☕🥐💕

#stranger things #steddie #vampire eddie munson #steve harrington #i wrote something

[writerslittlelibrary]

So, I'm not a prisoner?

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 extra

summary: you did not expect that your mission to take down the traitor, could end in such a difficult situation for you…

pairing: Natasha x Red Room teen reader

warnings: fighting, weapons, stabbing, blood, implied sexual abuse

genre: fluff, angst

words: 3073

a/n: I wanted to do a fic like this for so long!!!! anyway, I just kept scouting tumblr trying to find fics like this, so I figured I’d finally write one myself :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

A quick in and out. That was your mission. How on earth did you manage to screw it up so bad. In and out. Assassinate the traitor and come right back. 

Dreykov would’ve been so proud. 

But that didn’t happen. No. Every single aspect about that night failed to go according to plan. You snuck into the event Stark had hosted, was able to blend in with the other party goers, and you were able to hide when most of the people started to leave. 

Once it was just the Avengers left, you stayed in your hiding spot, observing them. You were here to kill Natasha Romanoff, and Natasha Romanoff only. 

You could not afford any casualties, so you had it all planned out. 

You’d wait until the Avengers would leave, and you’d take Natasha out before she could make it to her living quarters. You knew that once she made it to the living space of the Avengers tower, getting to her would be a lot harder. 

However, against all odds, Natasha excused herself from the group quite early, saying she wanted to get a good nights sleep. 

You internally cursed yourself, hating that this wasn’t something that you had planned for. 

Around the couches were still some Avengers sat. You recognised all of them. Clint Barton shouldn’t be too much trouble. He was only a guy who’s good with a bow. For Maria Hill could be said the same thing, except she’s very skilled with a gun.

No, you were worried about the other Avengers still seated. Tony Stark could call upon his armour in mere seconds. Thor had the power of thunder for god’s sake. Wanda Maximoff has exceptional powers, and therefor, if you were to attack with her still in the room, you’d be immobilised in an instant. 

You were fairly certain you didn’t need to worry much about Bruce Banner. Sure, he could turn into the Hulk, but he didn’t turn often, and lately, the Hulk hasn’t been spotted in the battlefield, meaning he probably had many trouble turning into him. 

Pietro Maximoff shouldn’t bring you a lot of trouble either. 

Your main concern were Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. One Super Soldier you could handle, but two? While fighting the rest of the Avengers? That wasn’t going to work. 

Lucky for you, Wanda Maximoff had excused herself from the gathering a while ago. If you didn’t make to much noise, she wouldn’t be much of a problem. You could be outside before she’d even make it to the party deck. 

Your original plan was to just wait. Natasha Romanoff would have usually sat through a party until far into the evening. You’d know, you’ve been watching her for weeks. 

However, now that Romanoff has announced she was returning to her bedroom, a slight panic ran through your body. 

Dreykov gave your 5 weeks to finish this assignment. That’s longer than any assignment you’d ever been on. You could not disappoint him with this. You had to kill the traitor. 

You figured now was your only chance, and so, as Natasha Romanoff made her way towards the elevator, you followed her. 

However, not even to your surprise, she stopped in the middle of the hallway. 

“You know I’m an assassin, too? You’re good, but you’re not un noticeable,” she states, calmly turning around, being met with a gun to your face. The moment she stopped, you were wise enough to draw your gun, holding her at gunpoint for any sudden movements. 

You could see a slight surprise appear on her face, before her face returned to her poker face once again. 

“You’re just a child…” Natasha spoke slowly, seeming almost disappointed. 

“You’re a traitor,” you spoke, loading the gun, taking a step closer. Natasha simply shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she spoke, before leaping towards you. You shot your gun, but Natasha was too fast, avoiding your gunfire as she ran past you, back to the other Avengers. 

How on earth could you have missed that shot? She was right there.

Pathetic. 

You don’t hesitate to run after her, determined to finish this tonight. 

Very much not to your surprise, the moment you run back into the party hall, the Avengers are already standing up and ready. Ready to fight you.

You don’t hesitate to move forwards, and after fighting Clint Barton for mere seconds, you quickly realise they have no intention of hurting you. You could use that to your advantage, and you do.

You kick Barton hard, leaving him on the floor, heaving for air as you move forward, taking on Maria. 

However, the moment you get close to Maria, two strong arms wrap around your body, pulling you back. They’re holding you tightly, and it doesn’t feel like they’re planning to let go. 

You struggle in the hold, fighting against who ever is holding you as you try to break free. A small panic runs through your body. The fear of being captured by the Avengers taking place in your mind. You do not fear the Avengers, but the thought of being seen as a traitor by Dreykov hurts your heart more than words could describe. 

“Stop struggling. We can help you,” you hear a voice behind you speak, and you soon come to realise the person you’re fighting is Captain America himself. 

No wonder you couldn’t get loose. 

Knowing it’s a Super Soldier, you’re quick to outsmart him, making him think you’re getting tired, relaxing your body is his hold. Because of this, the Captain lightens his grip a bit, giving you enough room to wiggle your arm free, moving it backwards to hit him in the face with your elbow. 

Because of the surprise, he lets you go, allowing you to stand again. 

The moment your feet hit the ground, you dash forward, holding up your knife as you use everyone’s shock to your advantage. 

Everyone is surprised by your capability of escaping Steve’s grasp, not realising your already moving towards Natasha again. You reach her quickly, stabbing your knife into her stomach as far as it can go. 

Natasha gasps, and you pull the knife out, watching as all the blood starts to seep from her stomach. 

Slowly, Natasha sinks to the ground, Maria catching her, helping her down. 

You move towards Natasha again, determined to get the job finished, but are quickly stopped by another pair of arms wrapping around your waist. You immediately recognise the metal arm, knowing that the Winter Soldier holds you in his grasp. You can’t escape him. You never have. 

He pulls you backwards, pushing you to the ground as he tries to punch you. However, you regain yourself quickly, rolling away from under him and kicking him in the face. 

Suddenly, you’re moved across the room. You forgot the damn speedster…

You raise your knife quickly, stabbing him before he has a chance to make another move. 

“PIETRO!” you hear a voice yell, and you turn your head to the right. Shit. Wanda Maximoff must have heard the commotion and went down to take a look. You have to get out of there. You will never win a fight with her.

You move quickly, running towards the stairs. However, before you could reach them, you felt a stabbing pain in your left shoulder, the sound of a gun shot following soon after. You had been shot. Bucky Barnes had shot you in an attempt to slow you down. 

But you didn’t let it. 

Instead, you went towards the stairs a little quicker, dashing down the hundreds of flights of stairs to get to the main floor. 

Of course, all SHIELD agents on the main floor were already expecting you, and you were followed by Steve Rogers, but you were quicker than him. You knew that. 

You dashed past all the SHIELD agents, avoiding their gun fire as you made it towards an emergency exit. 

The moment you stepped outside, you started your escape route. You already planned it, knowing exactly which way to go, no matter which way you would exit. 

Steve followed you outside, but the moment he set foot outside the door, you were gone. You had disappeared into the night, leaving no trace. 

------------------------------------------------------------- 

Back in the Avengers tower, the team was recovering from your attack. Natasha was in bad shape. Your strike had been an attempt to murder her, and you didn’t miss any organs as you pierced your blade through her abdomen. 

Pietro was much better. He was back on his feet quickly, seeing as though you stabbing him hadn’t been a murder attempt. You merely wanted to distract him. 

It didn’t take long for Natasha to get back on her feet either, even though she was advised to stay on bed rest after the surgery. 

Natasha was determined to find you, and she quickly got to work. 

Even though you had made it out of the Avengers tower quickly, you were still hurt, and some of you blood had fallen on the floor as you made your escape towards the stairs. Clint and Maria had collected that blood, running multiple tests, only to find out you were not registered anywhere. 

There was no record of your existence. Were you just another ghost story?

What they did find were traces of the Super Soldier serum. However, they were modified, almost as if they were genetically a part of your system. 

Did that mean you were just another Hydra experiment? Natasha did hear you calling her a traitor. That had to mean you knew Dreykov, right? Who else viewed her as a traitor. I would make sense. Sending a modified teenage assassin after her, knowing Natasha was above killing children. 

Even in the Red Room, she always hesitated when sparring against the younger students. 

Dreykov must have had a lot of faith in you to send you after her. Natasha can only hope you’re not a graduate yet…

-------------------------------------------------------------

After the incident in the Avengers tower, you had fled to Germany. You figured it was best to leave the United States completely. And why would they ever search for you in Germany? 

You had rented an apartment, loving the small town you had chosen. Dreykov had given you 5 weeks to finish the assignment, and now, you had only 1 week left. There is now way that you’re going to succeed in killing Natasha within the week. 

They know you are after her now, and they will be prepared for you to make a return. You screwed it up.

Sloppy. 

Right now, you were just heading back to your apartment. You had taken a walk, deciding to make the most out of the freedom you had in the moment. The week would be over soon, and the moment Dreykov would send for your return you are certain you will not be seeing daylight any time soon. 

After you arrived in the apartment building, you instantly felt watched. 

Had the Avengers found you?

You made your way up to your apartment, pushing the key into the lock and walking through the small hallway. Someone was in here, you could feel it. 

You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, keeping your back towards the living room. 

“There are not a lot of places to hide in this apartment,” you spoke aloud into the emptiness of the apartment. Soon you heard a set of footsteps, and you felt another presence enter the room. 

“You’re very skilled for your age,” you heard a voice behind you say, and you immediately recognised it as Natasha’s. 

“And you are stronger than you look. I mean, even for you, I didn’t expect you to be on your feet so quickly,” you stated, turning around slowly. Natasha wasn’t holding a weapon in your face, something you were definitely expecting. 

You scanned her quickly, seeing the weapons she held on her belt. 

She didn’t come unarmed. Good. She’d be stupid to. 

“I don’t mean you any harm,” Natasha said, taking a small step forward as she held her hands in the air, showing you her every movement. 

You didn’t look impressed, instead just staring at her as she moved. 

“Then you are a fool,” you told her, and you spotted a small smirk flashing over Natasha’s face. “And you are very full of yourself,” she said, moving towards the kitchen island, leaning on it. 

“I can’t say I blame you. You took on a lot of the Avengers on your own. Even two Super Soldiers. That’s impressive,” she stated, giving you a small smile. You didn’t return it. 

“What? Jealous someone better took your place when you betrayed us,” you asked Natasha, determined to get on her nerves.

Natasha’s smile dropped quickly. 

“Quite the opposite, actually. I hoped no one would ever have to go through it again,” she told you, a hint of regret almost identifiable in her expression. Now it was your time to give her a small smile. 

“You think you’re so important that everything should’ve ended with you?” you asked her, moving towards the kitchen island as well, setting your glass down, still holding onto it. 

Natasha shook her head.

“What I am curious about, however, is the genetic Super Soldier serum that runs through your DNA,” Natasha paused, adjusting her stance before speaking again. “Tell me, was your dad a Super Soldier?” 

You let out a huff of amusement, surprising Natasha. 

“You think I believe you’re just here for a conversation? There are SHIELD agents placed on every corner of every street. Don’t think I didn’t notice it. The lovely young couple, drinking coffee at the restaurant downstairs? Amazing disguise, if you were trying to trick nine year olds,” you stated, finishing your glass of water. 

Natasha smiles, clearly impressed with your observations. 

“You’re right. I’m not here for just a conversation, although I do hope we can prevent violence,” Natasha started, but before she could continue you interrupted her. 

“You’re here to bring me in.” 

Natasha nodded, and the look on her face was almost apologetic. 

“No one needs to get hurt. If you just come with me, there’s a big chance you could avoid confinement,” Natasha explained, yet you just scoffed and shook your head. 

“Avoid confinement? Yeah right. There is no way, that after what I have done, your people won’t lock me away.” 

“I can be very persuasive,” Natasha simply replied. 

There was a small silence. Natasha knew you were debating your options. You didn’t seem like a brainwashed sheep. She knew that you knew better than trusting Dreykov’s lies. Sure, you still believed she was a traitor, but there is no way that you didn’t see that what Dreykov is doing is wrong. 

“You know going back after a failed mission will result in punishment,” Natasha started, trying to get through to you. Trying to give you that little push you needed to go with her. “If you go with me, you’ll never be punished like that ever again,” she finished. 

You looked up, deep in thought.

“How could you be so sure?” you asked her, and Natasha didn’t hesitate to respond. 

“We can keep you safe-”

“I found you. I nearly killed you. Who’s to say some other Widow won’t come after me as well?” you replied, and Natasha gave you another small smile. 

“I escaped the Red Room when I was 20,” Natasha started. “It took him 12 years to send someone after me. We will make sure we’ll take him down before he even has the chance to come after you.” 

“How many times, did you try to kill him, exactly? Because I believe you attempted his murder twice already, both of which you failed. You blew him up in Budapest, and then another time when you took the air facility down. Do you honestly think you’ll succeed now?”

Natasha shook her head, seemingly recollecting her thoughts. 

“I failed twice, and that was sloppy, but both times I didn’t have the Avengers on my side. You ran the moment you saw Wanda. You know what she is capable of. Taking down the Red Room for good shouldn’t be too difficult with the Avengers on our side,” Natasha explained, yet you just shook your head. 

“I’m not like you,” you told her, yet Natasha just looked at you in confusion. 

“I’m not some disposable widow like you were. I’m more important,” you explained, and Natasha gave you a sad smile.

“Everyone is just a disposable widow to him,” she started, but you interrupted her. 

“I’m not. You tested my blood. You know I carry the Super Soldier serum. I’m not just some girl he picked up from the streets,” you explained, and Natasha gave you a small nod, encouraging to keep going. 

“I can’t explain it, but he won’t just let me walk. He put too much time in my creation. He would never just let it go to waste,” you finished, looking down, avoiding Natasha’s gaze as you turned around, putting your glass by the sink. 

“We’ll help you. I know that we can,” Natasha tried. 

“Is it worth the risk? My life is not great, but it’s not terrible either. Dreykov values me, and I am not treated like a piece of meat, unlike you might suspect.” 

“So the punishment is worth it, then? Knowing that in three days time, Dreykov will have you be recollected, and once you return to the Red Room, you’ll be punished severely for a failed mission,” Natasha paused, allowing you to let her words sink in. 

“Or, in three days time, you could know you can go to bed without worrying about someone joining. You could know you can be safe, and sleep through the night without anyone disrupting you. Knowing that, is the choice really that hard?” Natasha finished, and you were almost at your breaking point. 

Was it worth it? Was going back the best decision? Dreykov would hurt you, you knew that, but you deserved it. Didn’t you? 

“Please, just come with me. We can help,” Natasha spoke, nearly begged. 

You sighed deeply. 

“Fine, but if you put me in a cell, I will go on a murder streak,” you told her, and Natasha let out a chuckle, before seeing your facial expression, and realising you were dead serious. 

“Duly noted,” Natasha said, before motioning you towards the door. 

What had you done…

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#black widow #marvel #natasha x reader #mcu #avengers #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader platonic #natasha x daughter #blackhill #marvel reader insert #natasha romanov #natasha #natasha romanoff x teen reader #natasha romanoff x daughter #natasha romanoff x reader platonic #avengers x reader #reader insert #x reader #buckynat #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x reader platonic #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #maximoff twins #bruce banner #tony stark #bucky barnes x reader #maria hill

[lecl3rcw]

MAGIC IN YOUR VEINS

pairings: Charles Leclerc x sister!reader

summary: Charles comforts his favorite sibling.

warnings: badly translated French, sibling fights, Arthur being a lil mean, just a little tho.

author’s note: this is a lil disappointing, also Thankyou guys so much for 50 followers💗

song recs: none:(

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She didn’t know how a small comment of hers escalated to a full blown argument between her and Arthur.

“Arthur you know I didn’t mean it like that!” She tries to defend herself, “Oh cut the bullshit Y/N, you know how I feel when anyone compares me to Charles, you off all people should know” he yells really upset with his sister’s comment.

“I was just joking! I didn’t Intentionally compare you to him” she sighs out, putting her hand on her face, a little distressed. “No you always have to bring this up, and it’s funny because you’re probably the biggest failure out of all 4 of us, Enzo is starting his own business, Charles is a F1 driver, I’m an F2 driver, meanwhile you can’t even pass a grade 11 exam” he says, finally finishing his rant getting the anger and frustration of his stressful week out.

Her mouth was wide open as tears were visible in his eyes, sure her and Arthur exchanged insults but never had they fought this seriously. “Why are you crying? Cant handle it when it’s directed at you?” He says, “I’m sorry Arthur” she whispered before running to her room and locking the door.

She felt guilty, she wasn’t upset at him because he gave her a taste of her own medicine but it did sting, hearing someone she genuinely looked up to call her a failure was a statement she could never shake off. Although it hurt, it also made her realize that he was right. Once Arthur was cooled down, he did apologize to the girl and she did as well, but despite saying sorry, his words rang in her head. She vowed to herself that she was going to pass this test without anyone’s help no matter what.

“Do you guys know what’s been up with your sister?” Pascale asks placing food on the table, “What do you mean Maman?” Charles asks looking up from his phone, his next race was 3 weeks away so he was happy to spend time with his family, “I don’t know, she seems really distant” their mutters, “I heard she has a big test tomorrow , maybe she’s stressed out?” Lorenzo said, “yeah perhaps, but I would appreciate if you guys could talk to her and make her feel better” she says, the two sibling nodded their heads.

Charles was walking up to his bedroom but he noticed soft music coming from his sister’s room, curiously, he walked in only to find his sister’s head resting on the desk, the dim light of the lamp was the only thing lighting her room up, her papers scattered across her desk. He softly smiled at her, he placed a sweet kiss on her head before turning the light off and letting his sister sleep.

The next morning the girl jerked up in panic, she wasn’t supposed to be sleeping, she was supposed to be preparing for her test. “I’m so fucked” she says her hands on her head. She checks the time and she quickly gets ready to go to school.

“Hey Chérie” Pascale says, “Goodmorning maman” she says rubbing her eyes tiredly, “you alright?” Pascale asks the girl in concern, “I’m good ma, I was supposed to study but I fell asleep” she says, “Oh you’ll do great my love” she says as she goes to give her daughter a tight hug, being in her mother’s arms bright the younger girl a lot of comfort, “I love you Maman, I should be leaving” she says breaking the hug, she gave her a smile before heading out the door.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, after giving her test she actually felt confident, the smile that the past few weeks stole from her made its way back on her face, now all she had to do was wait till 5:00 pm for her results. Charles texted her saying that he could pick her up to which she happily responded.

“Hi Chérie! How was your day” Charles asks, “it was alright” she responds, the siblings talked about irrelevant things the rest of the way, jamming to music, Charles even bought Y/N some food as the two shared the meal. She felt really happy that Charles wanted to spend time with her as he was such a busy man. Unfortunately for her tho, her interactions with Arthur had died down since he was never home, either with his friends or with Carla, which made her really sad.

It was 5:03 when the siblings made it home, “I’m gonna go check my score Charles, I’ll be right back!” She says, “wait! Bring your laptop here, we will check it together” Charles says wanting to be as supportive as ever to which she was more than thankful for.

“Ok…so what did you get” He asks her, the minute she looks her heart drops to her stomach, she felt nauseous, the exhaustion of so many weeks of not sleeping and eating properly catching up to her, she was upset beyond repair, and Arthur’s voice calling her a failure started echoing In her mind.

“I’m a failure” she says mindlessly, before burrying her face in her hands. “What? No you’re not” He says grabbing the laptop. “Oh my god. I’m a screwup” she says as sobs start racking her body, Charles immediately wraps his arms around the girl tightly, her face still in her hands. “I’m so dumb, I studied for nothing” she says as places her head against his shoulder.

“Y/N you’re not a failure, who told you that” Charles says caressing her hair, “It dosent matter Charles, the test results tell me everything I need to know” she says tears still running down her face, “why can’t I be more like you, or Arthur, or Enzo” she wails out, “You’re not a failure Y/N, everyone has ups and downs, you can’t base your worth on test scores, or people’s opinions” he says tightening his hold on her, she stayed quiet wanting him to continue. “You can’t be perfect all the time Chérie, and whoever told you that you’re a failure is probably a failure themselves” Charles says getting a little mad that someone (Arthur) called his sister a failure.

“But-” “no buts, You tried Y/N and that’s what matters, you didn’t give up, everyone has bad days, but you can’t let a test score hold this much power over you” he finishes, she sniffles wiping her nose, “you’re right, I’m sorry, maybe this was a bit of an overreaction” she says, feeling a bit embarrassed, “No never apologize for showing emotions, you were disappointed and that’s ok, use this disappointment as motivation, you’re going to kick that next test’s ass” he says shaking her shoulders as she lets out a laugh. “ I love you Charlie” she mumbled giving him a final hug that he reciprocated, “I love you more” he says. “Now tell me, who said you were a failure? I’ll give them a piece of my mind, I’ll get Arthur on them too” he says confidently,

“………”

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