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#will you keep it to just you and me or bring it to places I'm not at
nerdpoe · 2 days
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Tim takes a prank too far. This is, of course, relatively normal for him to not know when it is normal to stop playing along.
Damian makes yet another quip about Tim not being good enough or whatever, Tim doesn't really know he wasn't really paying attention, and Tim.
Tim has an epiphany.
A long time ago, back when Young Justice was still relatively new and getting neck-deep in intergalactic and interdimensional trouble, he'd made a friend.
That friend is a little difficult to get ahold of, and he hates the method he has to use to do so, so he doesn't usually reach out.
But he really, really wants to fuck with Damian.
He brings out the mangled, horrible amalgamation of old tech, future tech, and fantasy tech that creates a block that could vaguely be a cell phone (this horrid thing is the bane of his existence and he hates it so fucking much), and makes the call.
"Hey is there anyway you could pretend to kidnap me after a long, boring monologue broadcasted across Gotham? I really need you to state that the reason you're 'getting me out of the way' is because I was the best Robin. No, I'm not Robin anymore. No, I'm...I'm Red Robin now. Stop laughing. What do you mean restaurant chain?! Danny. Danny. Come on, lemme take a week long vacation in the Realms. Please? Sweet, see you soon, just gotta let me pack real quick."
That night, as Red Robin is out on patrol, the sky turns into a sickly green. Purple fog rolls in, disjointed whispers giggle and gossip from mouths unseen, and every single screen in the city of Gotham is forcibly turned on to broadcast the speech of a white haired, fae-looking villain.
He wears a black and white jumpsuit, a Green Lantern Ring that keeps glitching out the camera focus around it, and a crown of ice that moves like fire.
He give a grand speech about how he's going to get back at Robin, for foiling his plans. That Robin was better than his any other who has ever borne the name, and he wanted it to be known to the world that this was an honorable battle he'd had to struggle with. That, regardless of losing the first time, in order to ensure the success of his plans this time he's going to take Robin out of the picture early.
The Bats get prepared to defend Damian with their life, Damian who is strangely flattered; only for the villain to hold up a seemingly unconscious Red Robin and dramatically disappear into a green portal.
The sky goes back to normal, and the fog and whispers go away.
Damian is pissed. Then worried. Then both.
He will rescue the fool and prove he is superior.
Meanwhile, Danny and Tim are catching up and vibing as Danny puts the Ring of Rage and Crown of Fire back in their special places. He doesn't need them or anything, they just had that 'villain' vibe he'd needed.
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golden-cherry · 2 days
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deal - cl16 (30/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: The Leclerc family dinner is something else.
Warnings: this is just cute, mentions of injuries (due to Monopoly), alcohol consumption, Arthur Leclerc
Word Count: 3.8k
series masterlist
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A/N: happy birthday to the lovely anon from yesterday! this is not smutty, but I hope you'll still like it! feedback is appreciated!
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When Charles brings the rickety Renault to a halt and pulls the handbrake, you can hardly believe your eyes.
The car is parked in front of a large, white house that is surrounded by green ivy on one corner. The black roof perfectly matches the black shutters leaning against the wall of the house, giving you a glimpse of the interior. Above the double doors of the entrance is a small balcony with a black metal fence and small flower boxes in which beautiful, colorful flowers are sure to bloom in summer.
It looks like a painting.
You stare open-mouthed through the windshield. "It's gorgeous."
Your friend smiles. "My mother had it renovated last year. The façade was crumbling a bit and the windows were no longer in good shape." He shrugs his shoulders. "But otherwise it's stayed the same. I grew up here."
You can hardly take your eyes off it as you get out of the car. "It's beautiful. It must have been great growing up here."
"It was." He rounds the hood and stands next to you. "Unfortunately, I was always on the road because of karting and the older I got, the less time I spent here. But this house holds so many memories." He exhales deeply. "This is my home."
You turn your head in his direction before reaching for his hand and squeezing it. "Thank you for taking me with you."
Charles smiles gently at you and pulls you a little closer so that you can feel his warm breath on your face. "Don't get too excited. You haven't met my brothers yet."
You tilt your head a little. "Are they that bad?"
"The worst," he whispers and leans forward a little. His gaze flickers briefly from your eyes to your lips. Your heart leaps a little. "But I'm the worst."
"Shouldn't I stay away from you then?" you ask him. He's so close to you that you have to tilt your head back to look at him. "Good girls should keep their distance from bad boys, shouldn't they?"
Charles releases his hand from yours and gently places it on your neck, leaving you no choice but to look at him. His other arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you all the way against him. Chest to chest, he looks down at you before licking his lips. You can feel the arousal pooling in your panties. "Are you a good girl, mon amour?"
As one of the front doors opens, he disengages from you with a smooth movement, as if nothing had ever happened and as if it wasn't running through your mind how you would have loved to get down on your knees for him right there. As he walks towards the house, you can see his back muscles dancing under his shirt. How you wish you could scratch him with your fingernails and -
"Maman. It's so good to see you," he greets his mother, who kisses him left and right on the cheek, snapping you out of your super non-platonic daydream. Which maybe isn't the worst thing, Charles is your friend after all.
"Yes yes, it's nice to see you too," she replies, before pushing past him and coming towards you. "Chérie, I'm so glad you're here!" The woman hugs you tightly before also kissing you left and right.
"It's nice to see you again too, Pascale," you smile. "Thank you so much for inviting me. The house is gorgeous."
"Thank you, chérie," she replies and reaches for your hands. "Come on, come on. Let me show you the house." Before you can say anything back, she pulls you towards the house, past Charles and through the door. "Charles! Your brothers will be here soon. You can set the table," she calls to him over her shoulder.
"Of course, Maman," he replies and when you look back at him, he rolls his eyes in mock annoyance.
"And please take the good china! We want to make a good impression."
"Of course, Maman." Charles, who has followed you into the house, closes the front door behind him.
The inside of the house looks like it's from another world. Large, white tiles adorn the floor, the furniture is kept simple, but still looks luxurious and so expensive that you'd be worried about scratching the surfaces with your car keys if you put them down. The lower floor is open plan, with a large kitchen with a kitchen island, a glass dining table and the living room. There's a soft-looking sofa in front of the fireplace, where you can definitely warm up on cold days. There are countless pictures on the walls - a mixture of art and personal photos.
"Would you like something to drink, chérie?" asks Pascale as you stop in the kitchen and she lets go of your hand. She opens the fridge and starts rummaging around in it. "We have water, orange juice, spritz, wine and cola."
"I don't need anything, thank you," you reply with a smile. You're a little overwhelmed that she's being so nice to you. You're not used to parents being so sweet and kind. Yours certainly weren't when you lived with them.
"All right, then. If you need anything, just take it. Make yourself at home." She squeezes your shoulder briefly before scurrying past you. "Charles! The table!"
"I'm on it," his voice comes from another corner of the room before he steps back into your field of vision. He is holding expensive-looking tableware in his hands, which he carefully spreads out on various coasters on the glass table. "Could you please take the cutlery from the top drawer there? There must be six of us. Enzo wanted to bring his wife Charlotte."
You take the cutlery from the drawer and count it off before joining him at the table and distributing the items. "I'm a bit nervous," you confess quietly. As you place a fork next to one of the plates, Charles grabs your hand.
"We can leave if that's too much for you," he suggests. " I'm sorry. My brothers aren't that bad. They're nice and funny and I think you'll get along fine." He strokes the inside of his wrist lovingly with his thumb. "You really don't need to worry. But if you want to leave, I can understand that."
You shake your head slightly. "It's all good. Your mother cooked dinner especially for me and it would be rude to leave now." You chew the inside of your cheek. "I just want to make a good impression."
Charles takes the rest of the cutlery from your hand before interlacing his fingers with yours. "You really don't have to worry about that, mon amour. She already loves you."
You raise an eyebrow in confusion. "And how do you know that? Did she tell you that?"
"She didn't need to," he replies with a smile. "When I introduced her to Annika back then, she reacted differently. No kisses, no dinner to get to know each other better. And she definitely didn't ask her to feel at home here," he explains, placing his free hand on your cheek. "She has good intuition and the fact that she took you to her heart within minutes just shows me that I made a good catch with you."
"Excuse me! There are children here!" a male voice shouts across the room. You would have liked to take three steps back to put some distance between you and Charles, but he keeps you in place.
"I don't see any children," replies the man in front of you, glancing over your head towards the kitchen. When you turn around, a young man is standing there, grinning and leaning against the kitchen island. "All I see is an annoying little brother who doesn't know when to hold back."
Playfully hurt, the stranger puts his hand on his chest. "Ouch. I'm not the one who can't seem to just pull through ." Before you can say anything back, he takes the few steps towards you and stops in front of Charles. The two stare at each other for a moment before a wide smile spreads across the shorter man's face. "Good to see you, big brother."
Charles releases his hand from yours so that he can embrace his baby brother. "You too." With a smile, he hugs him before gently pushing him away. He turns to you. "This is my little brother Arthur."
"It's nice to meet you," he replies and - in true Pascale style - gives you a little kiss on each cheek before winking at you. "Maman has already told me about you, but she didn't tell me how beautiful you are."
"'Keep your hands off, Arthur,' your roommate warns his brother, but he just waves it off.
"Don't worry, Charles. I'm not here to take your girlfriend away." You raise your hand and open your mouth to correct him, but he turns on his heel and walks back towards the fridge. "I'm here because I was promised good food. And maybe a game of Monopoly?" He waggles his eyebrows in anticipation.
Charles shakes his head vigorously. "Absolutely not. Last time Enzo nearly lost a finger because you thought he was cheating the bank."
Arthur rolls his eyes. "The whole thing would be unfunny without a bit of violence." His gaze shifts from his big brother to you. "What about you? Do you like Monopoly?"
"Monopoly? Maybe we should look for the first aid kit first," laughs the young woman who has just joined you. With her long blonde hair and wide, pearly-white smile, she looks so beautiful that it almost takes your breath away. Without giving the guys in the room a glance, she walks straight up to you and hugs you tightly. "Hi, I'm Charlotte. Enzo's wife." She gives you a quick hug before pulling away from you. "I like your top."
You introduce yourself to her as well before thanking her for the compliment. "Is Monopoly really that crazy in this family?" you ask quietly, watching Charles and Arthur tease each other in the kitchen.
"When it comes to winning, the men behave like animals," she explains, putting her slender arm around your shoulder. "That's why it's all the better that you're here now. Maybe they're acting a bit more grown-up this time then."
"Everyone here is an adult," another person defends themselves. The black-haired man tries to get Arthur out of Charles' headlock. "My little brothers might be a bit wild, but we're all old enough to behave reasonably." As he separates the two bickering men, he stands between them with his arms outstretched.
Arthur points his finger at the eldest of the three brothers. "You once knocked over the whole board because you had no more money to pay Charles."
Charles briefly runs his fingers through his tousled hair to get it into style. "And you once kicked us out of your apartment because you didn't have a hotel to take out a mortgage."
Before you know it, Enzo grabs his little brothers and tucks them under his arms, but Charles is quicker. With an elegant twist, he wriggles out of his brother's tight grip and twists his arm a little so that he can't get hold of him again, while Arthur tries with all his might to free himself.
"I told you," Charlotte whispers to you. "Like animals."
"Are you out of your minds?" Pascale's voice drowns out the boys, who abruptly move away from each other and blink at their mother. Arthur's face is red, while Enzo tugs his shirt right. Charles throws you a grin and a wink. "I'm cooking for everyone here and you're acting like children! Come on now! You know what you have to do!" she nags her sons, who quietly apologize to her and then scurry back and forth to put the rest of the things on the table.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" you ask the young woman next to you, but before she can answer you, Pascale is standing in front of you.
"Please take a seat. You're our special guest today and if I even see you lift a finger…" She gives you a stern, loving look before pulling one of the chairs from the table. With a nod, she tells you to sit down. Her look leaves no room for discussion.
"Would you like a glass of wine? I've brought a lovely sweet Riesling," Charlotte asks as she takes two wine glasses from one of the cupboards in the kitchen.
"Yes, please."
As she sets your glass down in front of you, the men also sit down at the table while Pascale places various bowls in front of you. When Charles tries to sit on the chair opposite you, his mother promptly stops him.
"The chair is broken, chéri. I'm afraid you'll have to use that stool there," she says, pointing to the small stool in the corner of the room.
Without hesitation, Charles swaps the pieces of furniture, but when he sits down, he grimaces. "My goodness, that's uncomfortable. It's sure to give me a backache."
"Maybe your lovely girlfriend can give you a back massage later," Arthur suggests, wiggling his eyebrows. Before he can react, your friend has reached into one of the bowls in front of you and thrown a piece of bread at his little brother. "Ouch, what the hell? I didn't say anything! It only becomes ambiguous when you make it ambiguous."
"Boys, pull yourselves together, otherwise it'll be the last time I invite you all here for dinner," Pascale scolds her sons, but you can tell she's not serious. She sits down at the table in front of them. "Now eat before the food gets cold."
-
"How did you two meet?" asks Enzo, popping a spoonful of vanilla ice cream into his mouth.
The pasta that Pascale cooked especially for you tasted absolutely fantastic. While you ate together, you talked about all sorts of things. About Enzo's work, Charlotte's recent seminar, new recipes that Pascale really wants to try out and your photography. At the beginning you were worried that you wouldn't be able to join in as you didn't know anyone from this family, but there was never a moment when you felt left out. It feels nice to be part of a family again - even if it's not your own.
Charles, who stretches his back briefly, looks at you across the table. "That's a funny story. Would you like to tell it?"
As all eyes turn to you, you have to swallow. You weren't expecting the attention. But Charles looks at you so gently and his smile is so warm. He makes you feel like you're not in the wrong place.
"He surprised me when I came out of the shower half-naked," you grin back. All you hear from the corner where Arthur is sitting is a whistle.
"Hey, that's not quite true," your roommate defends himself. "You were living in my second apartment without me knowing! Joris rented you the apartment and didn't tell me. And when I turned up there, you came out of the shower. It's not my fault." He raises his hands. "And you wanted to beat me up with a magazine!"
You reach for your wine glass and take a sip. "You were a stranger who suddenly appeared in my apartment. How else could I have reacted? You were so close to calling the police."
"You were standing half-naked in my apartment. It could have been that you were a crazy fan and somehow found out the address."
Charlotte looks up from her bowl of ice cream at you. "Didn't you know who he was?" As you shake your head, she claps her hands several times in delight. "Oh how cute! Just like in the fanfictions you can read on the internet! That's awesome!"
Her husband gives her a puzzled look. "You read fanfictions about my brother?"
Charlotte rolls her eyes. "Are you crazy? Of course not! But every now and then I just hear about it."
"And you've just decided to share the apartment," says Arthur as he scrapes two more scoops of ice cream out of the ice cream container.
"Yep. Just like that," Charles explains, and you smile gratefully at him. You're glad you don't have to explain that you're unemployed. Especially since everyone at this table is pursuing promising careers. Your friend smiles back affectionately before arching his back. "And it would also be the best decision I've ever made if I didn't have to sit on this stupid stool all evening. My spine feels like pebbles."
"Don't be like that," his mother grumbles at him. "You're still young. Your back pain can't be that bad."
"Arthur is younger than me. Shouldn't he be sitting in this chair then?" Charles tries to get out of it, but he falls silent when Pascale gives him a dirty look.
"But I don't have a girlfriend who can rub my back later," grins the youngest Leclerc. "I'm sure she won't mind."
"Arthur!" Pascale reprimands him. Her gaze shifts to you. "I'm so sorry. I thought I'd brought her up better." She puts her head in her hands.
"Oh, Maman." Charles gets up from his uncomfortable stool and you can tell by the way he looks that his back is actually hurting. He stands behind his mother and puts his hands on her shoulders. "We know you did your best. And we actually turned out well." He can barely suppress his grin. "Except for Arthur."
"Hey!" Arthur jumps up from his chair so quickly that you fear he's going to fall over backwards, but Charlotte just manages to catch it. Arthur chases his big brother around the room while Enzo stacks up the ice cream bowls to take them to the kitchen.
"Wait, I'll help you," you offer, reaching for the cutlery that has been left behind, but Pascale's hand on yours stops you in your tracks.
"If you lift a finger, the same thing will happen to it as with Enzo's fingers at Monopoly," she threatens lovingly and gets up to clear away the rest of the things herself.
You look at Charlotte uncertainly and she waves you off. "Don't worry about it. She doesn't mean any harm. She just wants you to feel comfortable here and make sure you have everything you need. You'll get used to it over time."
"Thank you," you reply with a smile. "I think if you weren't so nice to me, I'd be really scared of you."
The blonde has to laugh. "Unfortunately, I hear that a lot. But I know what it's like to be new to this family. It can be quite nerve-wracking and overwhelming. But they're all lovely people. You don't need to worry about that." She puts her hand on yours briefly before rising and joining her husband in the kitchen.
A short time later, you feel two large hands on your shoulders. "Are you all right?" Charles asks as you lean your head back to look at him. "My family didn't scare you off, did they? Or are you sick of it and don't want anything to do with me anymore?"
"A terrible family," you reply and feel his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your skin. You feel warm.
"I can understand," he nods and leans down towards you so that the tips of your noses touch. "So that's the last time we'll see everyone. I definitely prefer your company to that of the others."
You have to stifle a giggle. "You're only saying that because you're hoping to get a back massage from me as soon as we get home." Your mouth goes dry at the thought of running your hands over his muscular back and feeling the soft skin under your fingertips.
"You're right about that," he admits. "Shall we go? I've had to share you with my family long enough."
"You want to leave already?" asks Pascale, who has rejoined you at the table. You didn't even realize she was back until she started talking.
"Yes, maman. My back really hurts and we have a lot to do tomorrow," he apologizes. It's news to you that you have plans. But maybe it's just an excuse so that you can be alone again more quickly. And you definitely have no objections to that.
Friends, sure.
"All right." She puts her hands on her hips. "But I'll expect you both back here at Christmas. I'll prepare your old room so you can spend the night here." Her smile is warm and heartfelt. As you get up from your chair to say goodbye to her, she wraps you tightly in her arms. "It's so nice that you're part of our family now. I'm already looking forward to having you back here at Christmas. It's only a few more days until then."
"Thank you for your invitation." You return her hug. "I haven't felt like part of a family for a long time."
Apparently she sees something in your gaze, something sad, because she has to swallow before she starts speaking again. "We've been through a lot as a family - and I think you have too. You're always welcome here. No matter what happens. Even if you need someone to be there for you in the middle of the night. The doors of this house are always open to you." She blinks away a few tears and you briefly consider hugging her again.
Which you finally do. "Your family is wonderful. You've raised three great sons. If your husband was anywhere near as kind-hearted as they turned out to be, then he must have been the most lovable person in the world," you whisper to her.
"He would have loved you. I'm sure of it." As she breaks away from you, she wipes her eyes once. "Thank you for looking after my son. There's no denying how good you are for him."
As if on cue, Charles stands next to you and puts his arm around your waist to pull you close. You feel his body heat, the pressure of his fingers on your skin.
After this morning, you had been unsure whether you would ever be so close again despite the misstep, or whether you would keep your distance because the situation would be awkward for people who are actually just friends. But Charles' smile is genuine, his gaze gentle and his lips soft as he presses them lovingly to your forehead.
"She's the absolute best thing that could have happened to me."
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shadow4-1 · 2 days
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(Based on a true story) I'm imagining being a military contracted funeral director (from this post) that is surprised when the giant Lieutenant of the man you just cremated is waiting in your office.
"Oh! Um...h-hello Lieutenant Riley." You huff, completely caught off guard. "How long have you been waiting here?"
He doesn't respond. Just looks up at you with tired, distraught eyes. You've seen men bigger than him sobbing in the funeral home's lobby. He's no different despite the soft ski mask he wears to hide his face.
"I take it you're here for Mr. MacTavish?" You asked him, setting down your purse and keys on your desk. He doesn't nod or anything but he doesn't have to. You offer him a soft smile and place a hand on his shoulder. "Can I offer you something to drink? Coffee? Tea?"
"Tea..." His voice is rougher than before from disuse.
You nod and gesture for him to follow you. You lead him down the hall and into a small family room. On the side of the room there's a table with a few beverage heaters and pastries. You pour him a cup of steaming water, then thumb over the organized packets of tea.
"Black? Green?"
"Black."
You rip open the packet and place it in the cup. You offer him sugar and milk but he refuses with a shake of his head. He doesn't touch the pastries either so instead you usher him to follow you once more.
You bring him into the selection room. Caskets and urns line the walls. You can feel Mr. Riley's eyes wander from squarely between your shoulders. You take the opportunity to use your key and unlock the mahogany cabinet at the back of the room.
Inside the cabinet are a handful of different sized velvet bags. You reach for the largest one in the middle of the main shelf. With careful, gentle fingers, you pull down the velvet drawstring bag to reveal a simple urn. It's round, smooth and silver in color. Before you can pick it up, you hear something with significant weight hit the carpeted floor behind you.
You whirl around to find the Lieutenant on his knees. You stop what you're doing and immediately tend to him. You grab at his shoulder and try to keep him upright. If he passes out you'll at least be able to keep him from falling directly on his face.
"Mr. Riley?"
At first it's just sniffles. He covers his entire face with one of his large, broad hands. After a few moments though, he starts to sob. His breath hitches and his voice quavers.
"Mr. Riley?" You ask again, this time softer.
He continues to cry. His body starts to shake and he almost begins to wail. You press a comforting hand between his shoulder blades. All you can really do is comfort him until he's done.
Riley pulls his hand away from his face. He tries to rub the tears off of his lower lashes but it doesn't work. His sobbing slows down but doesn't stop. He seems tired, defeated. His entire body sags with an invisible weight.
"Mr. Riley?" You whisper, patting his back.
He finally breaks from his stupor. He looks up at you with a sort of fear you've only seen a few times in men's eyes. He's being vulnerable and so he believes he's being weak. You're not supposed to see this of him. No one should. You don't agree with that sentiment and never will, so you offer him another soft smile.
Riley shifts on his knees. You think he's going to move to stand. He leans over to you, pressing the side of his face against the meat of your hip. One of his arms wraps around your thighs. He squeezes you tight, like a son would his mother. He doesn't pull away either. He just holds you.
Once again, you're caught off guard. Now this, this is something you've never experienced before. You're unsure. You don't know if you should pry out of his grip or let him continue. He's a large man. You wouldn't want to offend him. He's grieving. He lost his best friend.
You lean over again, patting at his shoulders but moving up towards his head. You cup at his jaw to get his attention.
"I never met Mr. MacTavish, but something tells me he would hate to see you like this." You swallow hard. Sometimes, to support, you realized you need to have a little bite.
"Please, get up Mr. Riley."
Something about your command seems to stir something within him. His eyes grow pointed, his brow lines deepen. He immediately lets go of you like your body heat burns. And with that, hd staggers up off his knees. He refuses to look you in the eye.
Now free, you walk over to the cabinet. You replace the velvet bag around Mr. MacTavish's urn. You glance back at Riley and sigh.
"I know this is hard. Are you sure you want to pick up Mr. MacTavish today?" You hum. "I can call Captain Price to come instead. I'm sure he'd understand."
Riley stands there on shaky ankles still sniffling. He won't meet your eyes. He seems to be thinking hard about your words. He nods once.
You close and lock up the cabinet before escorting Mr. Riley to the lobby. The midday sun casts beautiful shadows across the white walls. The receptionist must've taken her lunch break as it was just the two of you.
"Here's my card. I'm sure you don't need it but um...if you need anything. Need someone to talk to? You can call me anytime." You smiled earnestly, placing the small card in his palm.
"Don't be ashamed, Mr. Riley. It's nor-"
"Simon."
You raised a brow but realized what he meant. You nodded. "Mr. Simon."
"No. Just Simon."
You give him a sheepish smile. "Simon."
He nods back at you, his regular demeanor having seemed to return. He tucks your card away.
"I'll be back for you."
You open your mouth to question him. You can't tell if his words are a threat or simply an odd promise. He's already turned to leave. You watch him walk out of the facilities' glass double doors. He dissappears into the sunlight a moment later.
You feel nervous but you feel...fulfilled? Mr. Rile-er Simon...is a peculiar man. You didn't want for him to break down and cling to you, but the fact he did make your heart swell. You'd always heard comments that you were just that type of person, the kind that even the most closed off people could open up to. For a moment you sat there lost in that thought. You enjoyed the feeling.
Then you had to get back to work.
You picked up the receptionist's phone, pulled a card out of your pocket, and then dialed the number of the Captain scrawled on the back.
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vivwritesfics · 16 hours
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Rough You Up
She's a genius. She knows what makes a race winner win. It's being injured. Oh, Oscar is going to get it.
warnings: Crack violence, blood
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"Oscar, my love, my wonderful boyfriend. Do you think you'd win if you broke your arm?" She asked as she leaned against his shoulder, close enough that she could stick her tongue out and lick him if she so wanted to.
Oscar Piastri loved his girlfriend, but she was a little bit... concerning. But he loved her. This was a part of the reason why.
He looked at her with his brow furrowed, corner of his mouth turning up just a little. "I don't think I'd be able to drive?" He said, voice going up at the end to make it a question.
A huff left her lips as she lifted her chin from his shoulder and sat back on the sofa, head hitting the arm of the sofa as she closed her eyes. She sighed. Loudly.
"Okay," Oscar said, bringing his hand down to settle on her knee. It was such a small thing that he did, but she loved it. Not that she was going to express it at that moment. "What's going through that head of yours? Why do you want to break my arm?"
And suddenly she was sitting up, voice filled with excitement as she spoke. "Okay, okay, so I worked it out, right? The Spaniard that we do not name had his appendix out before Australia and then he won Australia!" (Note: Oscar and Carlos have all of their beef on track. Oscar is far too chill to ever really have a problem with anybody. His girlfriend knows this, but she was just having fun).
Oscar let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. But she was having fun, and he was having fun watching her have fun. "What else have you got?"
"Lando's win," she said instantly. "He hurt his nose to the point where he had a literal bandage on race day and then he went and fucking won it! Osc, there's a pattern here! You get hurt, you win a race! Now let me break your arm!"
He pulled her in and kissed the top of her head. "You can't break my arm," he whispered, kissing her nose when she glared at him.
***
"Oscar, c'mere!" She shouted.
Oscar was careful as he walked into the kitchen. He'd tried to walk in a few minutes ago, but had seen her grabbing the frying pan from the drawer and hiding behind the door.
She didn't swing it towards him. She gave him the courtesy of revealing where she was first. "No," he said immediately, grabbing the frying pan from her hands. "No you can't break my nose."
A glare sat on her face for two seconds, before it became a pout. "But you might win Imola," she mumbled and wrapped her arms around his neck.
He put the frying pan on the table and placed his hands on her hips. "You saying I can't win without getting put in the hospital first?" He asked and squeezed slightly.
"No, no, Oscar, I'm not saying that at all," she mumbled, head falling against his chest as she listened to his heartbeat. "All I'm sayin' is that you've got Max Verstappen up ahead in a Red Bull. Maybe if I break your nose..."
Oscar was only slightly terrified. But he kept a hold of her. Because if he was holding her, she wasn't able to attack him. Holding her might have been the only thing keeping him safe (No he didn't really believe that, but better safe than sorry).
"Please don't break my nose."
"Pussy."
***
It had been his fault, his fucking fault.
Oscar Piastri couldn't quite believe it as he sat on the closed lid of the toilet, his girlfriend in front of him as she held tissues to his gushing nose. It had been his fault. He'd been the one to injure himself.
"Oscar, I love you, but this is fucking hilarious."
"Shut up," he groaned as she threw away the tissue and grabbed another. "Besides, it's not gonna change the outcome of the race."
Suddenly she swapped to hold the tissue with her left hand as she pulled her phone from her pocket. "What're you doing?" Oscar asked as he tried to look down at her screen.
"Nothing!" She said quickly. "Definitely not changing my fantasy team." Oscar rolled his eyes and squeezed her hand. He loved this woman. "Besides. This means you're gonna win in Spain, which is kinda poetic after Carlos read one of your home races."
Of fucking course, Oscar one in Spain. He couldn't quite believe it as he finished in front of the nineteen other cars.
He was unbelievably happy. Of course he was, it was his first proper race win. It had only taken him a season and a bit to get his first proper, full length race win.
"I fucking told you!" She shouted in his ear as he practically pulled her over the barriers. "If I cut off your leg, do you think you'll get a championship?"
"I love you!" He shouted over the cheers from the McLaren team. "But you can't cut off my leg!"
"Watch your back, Piastri!"
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hotpinkstars · 2 days
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BORDER COLLIE - boothill x reader
- you, boothill, and your daughter spend a nice morning together, allthewhile you and your husband converse about a dog.
- i don't know why i made this i just thought it would be a fun little thing idk lol. i just had to add that little bit of jazz to the end bc like yk... idk anyways i'm trynna set myself on a better posting schedule and i think im starting off strong mmm enjoy
- all fluff, tiny mention of pregnancy at the very end, pre-cyborg boothill, his daughter is still alive here and everything is normal, wc 714
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You were looking out the window, out at the vast amount of farmland you and your husband, Boothill, had decided to buy when he brought home the little girl you’re now able to call your daughter.
It was a nice, big place, suitable for animals of all kinds, and very family-friendly. You were currently watching your daughter play around with a baby goat that her father decided to bring out, a smile on all three of your faces. 
She seemed so happy, waddling around the goat, clapping her chubby little hands when the goat gave a soft little lick to her cheek. She had just learned how to walk, and had been able to say a few words for the past few months now. 
You walked out the back door, waving at Boothill before he waved his hand as a gesture to have you over by them. While you were walking over, you could hear your daughter shout “Goat! Goat! Cute goat!” While bobbing up and down with her legs and clapping her hands. It made you laugh a little bit before leaning into your husband's side. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, rubbing your arm up and down while supervising your daughter. 
“Dada!” She squealed, giggling. Boothill ruffled her hair before leaning down to give her a kiss on her forehead, making her giggle even more. “Dada and mama!”
You smiled wider than you thought you ever could have. You were so blessed to have Boothill as a husband, and such a special, precious girl as a daughter. 
“Well, we can’t really bring a goat in th’ house, n’ she seems to enjoy playin’ around with it a bunch…” Boothill said, standing next to you with his arms crossed. “What if we got a dog?”
“Really? A dog?” You looked up at him, and he nodded. “We have horses, goats, sheep, cows, and probably some reptiles living in the bushes. Do we really need more?”
He hummed. “The thing is, dogs can be domestic, hun. I got lucky this lil’ goat is so docile, good enough for her to be able to hang ‘round it without me having to worry ‘bout it taking her face off.”
“True. But we’d need a dog that can handle farmlife, not just any old dog. A boujee dog would not do very well in this type of setting. Keep that in mind.” 
He laughed before shaking his head. “Nah. I was thinkin’ more like a Border Collie or somethin’. I’d rather have one that's gonna make use of all this land.”
Your daughter came up to the both of you, lightly slapping at your legs to get your attention. You picked her up, giving Boothill a signal to go put the goat back in its respective area before meeting the two of you back inside.
A few moments later, when Boothill arrived back inside, you had lunch started, greeting him before he washed his hands and helping your daughter wash hers, too. He explained to her that she’s always to wash her hands before and after touching an ‘outside animal’ (as he calls it, so her itty bitty brain can comprehend it) otherwise she could get sick. He does the same, too. 
You set the table for lunch, putting some leftover salad and chicken on you and Boothills plates from last night. You gave your daughter some chicken too, but cut into very small squares, and strawberries instead of salad. 
The three of you sat down to eat, occasionally conversing about random things. She was too busy picking at her strawberries to notice your conversation, but you both still kept a close eye on her. 
“About the dog idea, are you sure?” You asked, your voice laced with some uncertainty. ‘I feel like we already have so much on our plate. Are you really willing to walk it every morning?”
“Well, o’course I am. I know what havin’ a dog is like, my dads always had one. I grew up around ‘em.” He takes another forkful of salad before going on. “But why’re ya so concerned? What else is stoppin’ ya from sayin’ yes?”
You smiled before laughing to yourself, leaving him temporarily confused. 
“Well, I want to hold off on the dog, because…
…I’m pregnant.”
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lilasamaaa · 1 day
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A lapse in judgement | Carlos Sainz x Reader
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Genre | Angst (of course), Hurt/Comfort, Fluff.
Word count | 3.8K
Warnings | Mention of sexual activities, rejection.
Summary | The long-awaited dinner with your in-laws doesn't go as planned... Will you and your boyfriend manage to change their minds about your relationship?
Author's note | I'm back, bitches! This lovely prompt was requested, thank you for the idea Anon! I hope you all like it, please let me know what you think! ✨ (not proofread lmao)
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Being the new girlfriend after the one who got away fucking sucks. Even when your lover was the one to end things. It's quite something to be the girl after the one he was supposed to spend his life with. Get married with. Have kids with. You wouldn't wish anyone to be in your place. Yet, here you are, all because you fell in love with him. Carlos Sainz. Him and his doe eyes. His impeccable hair. His charming smile. Frankly, you didn't stand a chance.
You knew who he was, of course. Formula 1 is among your fondest childhood memories, sitting in front of the TV with your siblings and parents. Each Grand Prix was a household event, and you could never bring yourself to part with the Ferrari-colored jacket you wore every race Sunday. It's been years since you've fit into it, but the memory is too precious. So, yes, you knew who he was. And you recognized him immediately when he walked through the door of your workplace, sunglasses perched on his nose.
You don't follow Formula 1 as closely as before. Just enough to keep up with the news. You don't pretend not to know who he is. What's the point in pretending?
"Back from Monza already?" you ask, wiping your hands on a clean towel.
He smiles. A polite smile, but one that seems to indicate he's not keen on chatting. Or at least, not about that. You ask him what he'd like, and he asks for anything with soy milk in it. He orders two, to go, and you smile again. Okay, you think. Understood. The exchange lasts no more than two minutes, and soon, the driver exits the coffee shop, leaving behind a lingering woody scent.
Weeks pass without crossing paths with him again, and honestly, the encounter has completely slipped your mind. That one early morning, though, you're sitting at one of the café tables, contemplating new drinks, new recipes to implement based on some customer feedback, when the little bell chimes behind you. You definitely need to stop leaving the door open to let the floor dry after your morning cleaning session.
You turn around, ready to inform the friendly customer that the café doesn't open for another twenty minutes, when you catch his gaze.
"I know you're not open yet," he starts, putting both hands in front of him. "I saw the sign. But I really need some coffee, and all the other shops are closed."
"I suppose I can make an exception for such an emergency," you say as you rise from your seat, smiling kindly at him. "What can I get you?"
"I don't remember the name of what you made for me last time, but it was incredible. There was..."
"Soy milk?"
"Yeah."
"I'm on it," you say, turning around. "Two?" you ask, feeling like you already know the answer.
"Yes, please."
You hurry behind the bar, preparing the two coffees, and you place them in front of him a few seconds later. He takes out his phone to pay and places it on the terminal, which emits a soft "beep." Then, he picks up one of the coffees before sliding the second one towards you.
"This one's for you," he says, and you barely manage to hide your surprise.
"Oh," you say. "If I had known, I wouldn't have charged you for the second one."
"But it wouldn't have been the same, then. I wouldn't have offered it to you," the driver says, winking at you before taking a step back. "Thank you so much for the favor. Have a good day!"
With that, he's gone. As you sip your hot coffee slowly, you wonder when you'll see him again next time. But already, your employees arrive and pull you from your thoughts.
"That guy outside kinda looked like Carlos Sainz, no?" Lucia, one of them, asks while tying her apron.
"You've seen him? I thought so, too," you reply with a smile.
The next time you see him is the exact opposite. You've just bid your last employee a good evening, and you're putting the chairs up on the tables in preparation for the morning cleanup. A knock on the storefront makes you look up, and you smile when you see him. You open the door, and he slips inside, slightly damp from the light rain falling outside.
"Have you ever heard of opening hours?" you ask while wiping down the countertop.
"Can't say I have," he replies with a grin, the sight making your stomach flutter.
"I think congratulations are in order," you begin, throwing the towel over your shoulder. "That was a clean win in Singapore."
"Thank you. It might be a bit late for a coffee, but would you like to grab a drink with me?"
The proposition takes you by surprise.
"Like? Right now?"
"Yeah. Right now. I know a place not far from here."
"Aren't you afraid of being seen or something?" you ask, arching a brow.
"Never with beautiful women, no."
You chuckle, rolling your eyes. You've been living in Spain for ten years, yet you don't think you'll ever get used to the natural flirty nature of its inhabitants.
"Give me ten minutes to change and close up, and I'll join you," you say, while he nods, sitting on one of the bar stools.
Carlos takes you to a dancing bar, obviously run by friends since he spends five minutes shaking hands and greeting everyone as you enter. He leads you to the back of the bar, to a secluded corner where the music is much quieter, and you can actually have a conversation. You have no idea what to say. Where do you even start with a Formula 1 driver? Someone whose life is so different, so far removed from yours. Sensing your discomfort, Carlos takes the lead, asking you questions about your café, (Did you open it by yourself?) and about your life. (Where are you from? You have an accent).
The evening passes, and the drinks flow until you find yourselves tightly pressed together on the dance floor. You're back against his chest. His hands on your hips. Yours on his neck. Swaying to the rhythm of the music, all senses heightened. His lips don't take long to seek yours, and from the wall of the bar against which he pins you, you transition to his mattress, his warm body pressed against yours.
You don't sleep much that night. You don't know if you'll ever have the chance to see him again. To have him like that again. So, you lavish your lips on his, your body against his. And in the early morning, as you wake up entangled in each other's arms, and you almost expect him to kick you out... He climbs back on top of you instead, pressing warm kisses against your mouth, your collarbones, your navel... You arrive at the café thirty minutes late, with bags under your eyes. It's never happened before, and your employees are so surprised that none of them even think to joke about your poor state.
You don't hear a word from him for the next ten days. Occasionally, you glance at the app you downloaded, which informs you about upcoming races. You know he's in Qatar. You try not to let the little voice in your head win. The one that laughs at you. That tells you that you'll never see him again. He's working, you think. He's busy. Your life goes on, though you can't help but watch for him early in the morning and late at night, your eyes lingering on the storefront.
Then, one day, he comes back. Right in the middle of the shift. Seeing him walk into the café, Lucia lets out a scream and drops the cup she was holding. "Dios mio," she says, clutching her heart. Several seated customers turn around, but nobody seems to pay attention to the tall brunette with caramel eyes whose gaze is fixated on you, from across the counter.
"Soy milk?" you ask, trying to contain your smile.
"Yes, please. Only one."
And then, he starts coming every day. Every day he's not on the other side of the world, that is. By his seventh visit, Lucia can almost serve him his coffee without spilling any, her hands shaking so much.
Outside of the café, the two of you slowly start going to museums. To restaurants. To the cinema. But there's one place you both prefer. His bed. You spend hours there, exploring each other's bodies or talking about everything and nothing. Exchanging thousands of kisses or sharing your worst childhood embarrassments. Moaning against each other or talking about your very first pet. And one evening, as you were recounting how your respective parents had met, he asks you the question.
"Speaking of that, would you like to meet them?"
Your heart skips a beat. It's been six months since you've been seeing each other. Since you've been exclusive. Since you've been a couple, in reality, even if neither of you has dared to say the word. That one, and the other. The one that starts with an L. Even though you know you do... And you sense he does too.
"I don't know," you say, resting your head against his bare chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Have you talked to your family about us?"
"Of course," Carlos says, pressing a kiss to your head. "They know I've been seing someone. And they know it's serious."
"Do they even want to meet me?"
"They haven't asked, if that's your question," your boyfriend replies. "But they never have, with anyone. They know it's something I like to do at my own pace."
You nod, and a few minutes later, the fateful dinner is set for the following Saturday. Already, the ball of anxiety that has lodged itself in your stomach grows. And soon enough, you find yourself standing in front of the door of the imposing Sainz mansion, your throat tight and your hand sweaty in Carlos'.
"Relax," the driver says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before stroking your thumb. "They're not that bad."
Carlos knocks on the door, and a young woman opens it before jumping into your boyfriend's arms. You recognize her instantly from the pictures in Carlos' phone. Blanca. As if pronouncing her name in your head had reminded her of your existence, Blanca turns her head, smiling politely in your direction.
"Nice to meet you," she says rather blankly before gesturing for you two to come inside.
You encounter his other sister, Ana, in the hallway a few seconds later. She isn't much warmer, not even offering a smile and simply saying "Welcome" before rushing to hug her brother. The reception from the two women surprises you a little, and doesn't really help you feel confident about the evening. Carlos doesn't seem phased by the situation, helping you out of your coat before guiding you to the living room where the two young women have already disappeared. You're about to walk through the door when your eyes stop on a series of frames hung across from the front door. Your heart skips a beat. Feeling you come to a halt, Carlos stops as well, following your gaze.
"Fucking hell," your boyfriend says before taking the frame off the wall and placing it upside down on the buffet below. "I'm sorry. This photo has been there for so long that they probably don't even notice it anymore," he adds, his tone apologetic.
You know he's trying to reassure you, but his words have the opposite effect. You've briefly talked about your exes. Well, more about his. Isa. The girl he was with for seven fucking years. The one his parents loved so much. Seeing a photo of them together right before meeting your in-laws is like a knife to the heart. A reminder that you're the new girl. The one replacing her. You muster a smile that you know is fake at Carlos before continuing on your way. As you arrive in the living room, his two parents stand up from the couch, rushing to their son to hug him.
The embraces last a few seconds, until they turn to you. You greet them politely, handing his mother a huge bouquet of flowers and his father a bottle of fine wine, as they thank you with strained smiles.
"I also brought chocolates from my shop for you," you continue, turning to his sisters sitting at the dining table. "They're from a small producer in Andalusia, a real treat..."
"How kind of you," Blanca says dryly.
You miss the glance that Carlos shoots his sister, behind you. A stern look. One that scream "be careful". One Blanca pretends not to see.
"Let's sit down," Carlos' mother announces, gesturing for everyone to take a seat.
Intimidated, you stick close to Carlos, sitting next to him. The table is beautiful, adorned with fine porcelain and various flowers. You smile as you spot silver napkin rings and pick up the one in front of you. Your next breath gets caught in your throat when your eyes land on the letters engraved in the metal. Isabel.
"Ah yes, sorry," Ana begins, following your gaze. "We didn't have time to make a new one. I hope you don't mind."
"It's fine," you say, looking up and smiling at her.
"So, dear, what do you do?" Carlos' father asks. "Carlos told us about a café, but we didn't quite understand."
"I opened my own café a few years ago. We also serve fresh pastries that I bake every morning. It's really taking off; I have several employees now, and I'm planning to open a second one soon..."
"Did you study culinary arts?" her mother asks.
"Uh, no, I don't have any degree," you reply with a nervous laugh. "School just wasn't my thing."
Ana and Blanca exchange a glance, and you lower your head, feeling your cheeks flush. You feel Carlos' hand on your thigh, and you cast him a grateful glance, which he doesn't see, his eyes fixed on his sisters.
"And so, the two of you met at the café, is that right?" his father resumes.
"Yes, that's right," you reply with a smile. "In May, the first time."
"In May?" Ana asks, looking at her brother. "Weren't you still with Isa?"
"Are we gonna mention her all night?" Carlos snaps.
"It's just a question, no need to get upset," Ana replies, rolling her eyes.
"Did you know who he was?" Blanca asks, holding your gaze.
"Uh, yeah, I recognized him. But I served him like any other customer," you recount.
"It must be weird," Ana continues, as your attention turns from her sister to her. "To see a celebrity walk into your little café."
"It's actually not so little," Carlos says. "It's pretty well-known in Madrid. Lots of customers."
"Never been," Blanca says curtly.
Carlos's mother gestures for her daughters to follow her, and the three women disappear in the kitchen before returning a few minutes later with their hands full of various dishes.
"Carlos told us you love to eat," his mother continues, giving you a genuine smile. "It's good that he didn't choose a very slender girl, for once," she adds, as you tilt your head. Was that supposed to be a compliment?
"What are your plans after the café?" Carlos' father asks, chewing on a piece of chicken. "Now that this first project has worked out?"
"I beg your pardon?" you ask, genuinely confused.
"What are you going to do with your life now?" Ana asks.
"Well... I'm going to keep running the café? It's my sanctuary, my biggest project. I'm so proud of it, I'm not going to give it all up now."
"Oh," his father replies, eyeing you. "I'd understood it was temporary. That you were a kind of investor."
"No," you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "That's... That's what I do."
The silence falls over the table, punctuated by the clinking of utensils. After a short while, Carlos's mother clears her throat, meeting your gaze.
"Forgive our questions. We're curious to get to know the person Carlos shares his life with. You have to understand, after seven years... You always know what you've lost, but you can never know what you've gained."
"And that was quite a loss," Blanca chimes in, sipping on her wine.
"You can't trust anyone these days. You never know if they love you for you or for your wallet," Ana states, looking at her perfectly manicured nails.
"Or your contact list," Blanca adds, shooting a glance your way.
"Okay," Carlos suddenly says, throwing his napkin on the table before getting up. "That's enough. We're leaving."
"What?" you say, looking up at him.
"They're clearly not ready for this. We'll come back when they finally understand that my ex is just that - my ex. Get your things, love."
You stand up, feeling your legs tremble, as Carlos' hand find the small of your back, pushing you towards the hallway.
"Don't be ridiculous," his mother says, standing up as well. "You can't expect us to forget seven years just like that."
"I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking you to respect my partner. But apparently, that's too difficult."
A few seconds later, Carlos is backing out of his parents' driveway, one arm around your seat, his gaze fixed on the rear window. In the passenger seat, you fidget with your fingers, staring at your hands and biting your lip nervously. His brows are furrowed. Jaw clenched. None of you exchange a word until you hit the main road, headlights from passing cars casting shadows on your faces.
"I'm so sorry," he finally says, stroking your thigh. "If I had known..."
"You couldn't," you reply, placing your hand on his. "I don't blame them. Seven years is no small thing."
Turning his head, his gaze meets yours.
"I won't pretend that those seven years didn't matter to me, that they meant nothing. Even though I don't have any romantic feelings for her anymore, she will always be a part of me in some way," he says, as you feel your heart tighten in your chest. "But she no longer occupies my thoughts. She's no longer imprinted under my eyelids. It's not her fingers that give me chills, her voice that makes my heart race. All day long, I think about you. I talk about you. Even at night, I dream of you. You're right beside me, so close, and yet it's not enough. You still find a way to get closer, to flow through my veins, to infiltrate every breath, every heartbeat."
"Sometimes I wish I could see myself through your eyes. That girl sounds exceptional," you say, laughing as you wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes."
"She's quite something," he replies, eyes on the road. "I can't wait for them to realize."
After the disastrous first encounter with your in-laws, over six months pass before Carlos comes join you on the terrace of your shared hotel room in Jeddah, placing a coffee in front of you. Bending down to sit beside you, the pilot winces, a hand on his stomach.
"Are you okay?" you ask, running your hand through his hair.
"I feel so fucking sick," your boyfriend says, a painful grimace on his face.
"Shouldn't you see a doctor, babe?" you ask, stroking his arm. "You look awfully pale. And you haven't eaten since yesterday morning."
"I can't keep anything down," Carlos replies, throwing his head back before closing his eyes.
"Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro," you start, earning a small grin from your boyfriend.
"I just love when you call me that."
"There's no way you're getting in that car tomorrow," you insist.
You didn't think you'd be so right. Well, not to this extent. Hurrying through the corridors of the hospital, two large aluminum trays in each hand, you dodge doctors and nurses along the way, weaving through visitors until you reach the door marked with the number you're looking for. You knock on the door, slipping inside before turning around to close it behind you.
"I wasn't sure what you'd prefer, so I got both," you begin, still facing the door, handle in hand. "The paella was quite easy to find, but I admit I had to cross the entire city for..." your sentence dies in your throat when, turning around, your eyes meet those of your mother-in-law. Then your father-in-law's. And your two sisters-in-law, crowded in Carlos' small hospital room.
"Oh," you utter, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know you'd be there. I'll leave you alone," you start, turning around once again.
"No! Stay," Carlos' mother says, rising to take the trays from you.
"We're really happy to see you again," his father says, rising as well to embrace you. "Carlos was telling us how well you took care of him. Thank you so much for being there."
"That's the least I could do," you reply, feeling intimidated. "He would have done the same for me."
"I may love you, but I'm not sure I would have slept in that armchair. Or changed your blood-soaked bandage," Carlos replies, eyes half-closed, still under the influence of anesthesia.
"You did what?" Blanca asks, turning to look at you, eyes wide.
"Well, his nurse was busy and it started leaking," you shrug.
"You slept here?" his father asks.
"They wouldn't let me at first, but I didn't feel like leaving him alone in a foreign hospital."
"She annoyed the staff so much they just gave up on throwing her out," your boyfriend lets out in a laugh.
"I didn't annoy anybody," you reply quickly, fearing what his family might think.
"You threatened an intern to tie yourself to the chair."
"I didn't do that," you half-laugh, shooting your boyfriend a warning look.
Seated on the side of Carlos' bed, bickering with your boyfriend while running your hand through his hair in a loving gesture, you don't see the glance exchanged between the Sainz family.
"We were thinking about something, before you arrived..." Ana begins, her eyes finding yours. For the first time, you're not met with her harsh, cold gaze, but with gentle eyes. "We have a family house in Mallorca. We thought it would be nice to all go there together, so Carlos can recover in peace. We would be very happy if you joined us."
"It'll be a chance for us to get to know you. And to apologize for our pathetic behavior last time."
"Carlos chose you," his mother starts, smiling warmly at you. "And we all understand why."
You could cry with happiness at the thought of finally being accepted, being welcomed into the family of the person you've shared your life with for almost a year now. At no longer being the new girl. The one after the love of his life.
At the though of maybe, simply being the one.
The real one, this time.
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scientia-rex · 3 days
Note
Hi Dr. Kristophine, do you have any advice on what kind of information doctors need for medical issues that are more nebulous than "my knees hurt"? I've been feeling Weird and Bad in a way that has me concerned, but I'm afraid to make an appointment because I don't know what to say that will get the Weird and Bad feeling across in an actionable way. Going to the doctor takes SO much energy that I don't have to waste and I don't want them to just take a blood test and say everything's fine go home (again).
The best thing you can do with medical information you're trying to prepare for your medical provider, as a lay person, is be as specific as possible.
-Location: Is it one place in particular, or everywhere? Does it stay in one place, or move around?
-Timing: When did it start? Did it come on suddenly or slowly? Does it happen continuously? Does it come and go? Is it always there to some extent, but it gets better and worse? On a scale of 1-10, with 1 being fine and 10 being the worst you can imagine, how bad is it at its best, and how bad is it at its worst? How much time does it spend really bad vs only kind of bad?
-Quality: If it's pain, is it aching, burning, stabbing, dull, electrical zap, etc.? If it's not pain, what is it? Is it discomfort? Is it weakness--i.e., you can't do that thing? Is it fatigue--like maybe you can still push through doing the thing but it feels like you're trying to wade through mud to do it? Is it a racing heart, sweating, pressure?
-Triggers: Does something in particular set it off? A time of day, a food, an action, a medication, a thought? A surprisingly common trigger for migraines is sitting still with your neck in one position. (New research suggests that necks are critical to migraine formation, to which I yelled out loud at the paper, no duh!) There may be triggers you haven't noticed; try keeping a symptom diary, where you note down when you have episodes and what you were doing beforehand, what you ate that day, menstrual phase, etc. Any detail that you can remember, whether or not it seems relevant at the time.
I cannot tell you how many times I've dug deeper into a chronic issue only to discover that the patient can, in fact, tell me what the trigger is, but because it's something important to them, they simply haven't noticed. May subconsciously even avoided noticing. Do you get migraines every time you DM? Do you need to work a stretch break into your D&D session?
There can also absolutely be multiple triggers--I know I'll get migraines if I don't sleep, if I'm sick, if I sit still for too long, if I have dental work, etc.
So bring in all the info you can. Write it down if you're afraid you'll forget. Don't hand it to the MA, too many doctors will go "oh my GOD they brought a LIST how high-maintenance" and tune out. Hang on to it but tell them about everything.
I don't expect patients to be able to tell me "I believe I've had a left radial styloid fracture" but I do expect them to tell me "I fell and tried to catch myself with my left hand and now my wrist hurts," and that's good enough. The rest of it is my job. When it's something more vague, like "I started feeling different and bad about six months ago," any other information helps. Did you start a new med around then? Are you going through menopause? Do you struggle with anxiety? Do you have first-degree relatives (parent, sibling, or child) with genetic disorders, autoimmune disorders, etc.? Do you have a history of anemia? Are you vegan? Have you started having night sweats and unexplained weight loss? Did you recently travel internationally? This can go a lot more different directions than a hurty wrist, so bring in all the info you can.
And keep in mind that modern medicine is very limited--much more so than most people think. There is an excellent chance that medicine will not be able to diagnose your condition. It may still be able to offer treatment. It may fall on your shoulders to manage it as best you can, knowing that doctors don't have answers. Nobody can tell me why I have chronic pain, and I don't mean as in "I've asked doctors and they don't know," I mean "I've personally scoured the literature and had the relevant and appropriate tests and no one can know at this phase of medical knowledge." So I deal with it, I've stopped trying to push myself past my reserves because people who can't admit to ignorance tell me to, I keep my painful body moving because that helps, I do PT, I take a multivitamin occasionally because I know my diet sucks. I manage.
There are not always right or wrong answers--I don't take gabapentin, because I don't want the sedation and kidney exposure, but patients with my exact symptoms might find it helpful and may find the risks and costs worth the benefits. My mother, who has whatever it is that I have, right down to the tricky stomach, from whom I presumably inherited it, has taken medication at different points in her life, depending on how much pain she was in and what other responsibilities she has, and that is perfectly reasonable. Autonomy matters. People have to be able to make these choices for themselves, with assistance but not paternalism from their medical professionals, because the math is different for everyone.
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vbecker10 · 3 days
Text
Whatever it Takes
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)
Summary: You are desperately in love with your best friend Loki but don't know if he will ever love you the same.
Warnings: feeling like Loki won't love you, does this count as vaguely mild smut? Lol you tell me idk
A/N: I honestly just love this song (linked below) and I imagine this back and forth a lot when I listen to it so I decided to just write down and share it with you all finally 💚
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You hold onto Loki's arm as you walk up the four flights to your apartment, holding your heels in your other hand. You giggle a little when you look down at the overly comfortable sneakers Loki had conjured for you on your walk back from the Tower. Once you reach your front door, you open your bag to search for your keys and say, "Thanks Loki. You know you didn't have to walk me all the way here, though."
"Nonsense," he smiles warmly. "It was the least I could do after you kept me company all evening."
"You know deep, deep, deep down you love Stark's parties," you joke instead of admitting that the only reason you went was to be close to Loki.
He chuckles, "I will admit the food is always quite delicious but that is all you will get out of me."
You laugh, hiding the part of you that wishes the night didn't need to end here, as two friends. You run your thumb over the edge of your key and imagine for the hundredth time what would happen if you invited Loki inside but you push away the thought.
"Have a goodnight Y/N," Loki takes a step towards you and hugs you tightly. You rest your head on his chest, savoring the feeling of his arms around you.
"Goodnight Loki," you tell him, looking up at him. He smiles down at you and you wish he would lean down and kiss you but instead he releases you from his embrace.
"I will see you tomorrow," he promises then he waits with his hands in his suit pockets for you to enter your apartment.
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You close the door, tossing your heels near your shoe rack and placing your bag on the hall table. The feelings you suppresed for Loki all evening surface at once and you find them overwhelming. You sink to the floor with your back against the door and bring your knees to your chest. You close your eyes and imagine Loki standing in front of you and all the things you need say to him that you never will.
"What would it take to make you see me the way that I see you? What would it take to make you want me the way I've always wanted you?" you ask out loud, knowing there will never be an answer.
"I don't know why you're in everything I see and I can't deny that you're everything I need," you say, letting the tears fall without fighting to hold them back.
"You are my reason for everything I do. What would it take to make you fall for me the way I fell for you? What would it take to make you fight for me the way I've always fought for you?" you lower your head, resting it on your knees.
"I'll do whatever it takes to get to you, whatever it takes for you to love me," you say to the empty room. Your heart aches as your mind replays the same negative response it always does. Loki will never love you the way you love him and if you ever talk to him about how you feel, you will lose him as a friend forever.
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There is a light knock on your door and you wipe your tears quickly as you get up. "Who is it?" you call to whoever knocked.
"Its Loki," he says calmly and you feel yourself panic.
How long he had been standing there, you wonder. Had he heard anything you said, did he hear everything? Why hadn't he left when you came into your apartment?
"Just a second," you answer nervously. You check your reflection in the hall mirror and wipe your smeared eye makeup clean but your eyes are still red.
You open the door and he looks at you, "I'm sorry, I know it is rude of me to still be here after you told me goodnight but... I just need to know," he pauses and you feel your heart hammering in your chest. "Who were you speaking about?"
You fight to keep eye contact with Loki and fidget with your fingers, picking at your nails. "No one," you lie quickly, unable to tell him the truth.
His shoulders slump and he nods, you can't believe it but he almost seems upset by your answer. "I guess I..." he sighs deeply. "I'm sorry, for a moment I thought, well I was hoping you were talking about your feelings towards me but I must have misread everything. I'm sorry, I should go," he turns away from you to leave.
"Wait," you step out into the hallway.
He stops and turns to face you, you can see the doubt in his eyes.
"I... I was talking about you," you admit slowly.
He walks steadily towards you as he speaks. "I have always seen you. I have always wanted you. I will always fight for you," Loki echos your words and you feel yourself blush.
"I don't know when I fell for you and I don't know why you bring me to my knees but I can't unwind from how you twisted me," he says, his eyes focused on yours.
"Loki," you breath out his name as he stands with his body flush against yours, his fingers trail slowly down your cheek then under your chin, his other hand rests on your lower back.
"Tell me you love me," he says in a low voice.
"I love you loki," you answer, your eyes locked on his.
"I love you Y/N," he says the words you have always wanted to hear.
His gaze drifts from your eyes to your lips then back to your eyes as he towers over you. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you hard as one of his hands slides up to the back of your neck and his other hand grips your hip. You kiss Loki back, opening your mouth to allow his tongue to find yours as your fingers grip the fabric of his suit jacket.
He walks forward, causing you to move backwards out of the hallway and into your apartment. Loki kicks your door shut and picks you up as if you weigh nothing. Your legs wrap around his waist and your fingers tangle in his hair as he carries you through your living room and into your bedroom, his lips never leaving yours for a second.
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I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!
@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-ofthe-pages @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv
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alexa-fika · 3 days
Note
ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! Last request before I sleep
Here me out shanks with a 13 year old daughter (who has his iconic red hair) reader who absolutely despised him because he's the reason why her town got attack (Shanks keeps flirting with her mother unknowingly he accidentally made her into an outcast)
Reader who's snarky, a bit rude but polite and well mannered (unlike shanks)
Reader who's always reading and very elegant royalty like but not spoiled and very serious all the time (unlike shanks)
Reader who's secretly insecure and scared that she's always gonna be in her father shadow
Reader who is always in the whitebeard pirates (THOUGHT THIS WASN'T A WHITEBEARD REQUEST BUT I MADE IT ANYWAYS?)
Reader who always dye their hair into black
Reader who bonds with ace because of their daddy issues 🥰
That's it. That's the tweet
Roots ( Ace x f!teen!reader)
A/N here we go, I dont feel with this one, I feel like I missed the whole vibe you were trying to get when you submitted the regret, I spend a week just staring at the screen trying to think of how to approach it and I can’t say I choose the right one
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Dokucha frowns as the book on her hands is ripped away from her hands, only to let a small smile as she recognizes the candy cane-patterned bracelet
"Ace, you're back," she stated, looking up at the grinning man squatting on the railing
"I'm back," he responds, jumping down from the railing and bringing the girl into a side hug
"What have you been up to today?"
"I am actually taking a small breather before I continue training; I believe it's Haruta's turn for a session," she stated gingerly, clenching her hands in a lower position
"Turn?"He furrowed his brows at her words and the implications behind them
"Dokucha, how many sessions have you done?"
She bites at her lip, shifting her gaze away from his
"This would be the seventh," she muttered
"I told you to stop pushing it, you're only thirteen dokucha, it's okay to train, but this is too much," he scolded
"Is this about Shanks?" he muttered, kneeling down to her level
"I don't want to fall behind."
" I know you don't, but are you just going to waste your life trying to catch him?
Isn't that what you don't want to do? To live your whole life trying to surpass your old man?"
"I can see it in their eyes, Ace, every time we go on a mission; all they can see is him, they don't think of me as Dokucha, they just see his daughter," she murmured, teary eyes flickering back to the man
"Then let them. They have no place in your life, so why would you care what a bunch of strangers think?" he asked
He frowns at the small unconvinced hum that leaves the teen at his words only to bounce back as an idea comes to mind
“ Hey, I found a cool place on my way back; it’s only a few minutes on the Striker; wanna check it out?”
“But Haruta is expecting me…”
“Don’t worry about that; you said you still have some time, right?”
“I suppose so, b-
“Great, you head to the Striker; I will catch back up in a second; need to get something before we head out,” he said, running off
“W- Ace! I din- and he’s gone” she mutters at the retreating form of the commander, taking a glance down at the striker that had been tied to the Moby Dick
“I guess no harm in a small ride.”
-
“How did you find this place?” she muttered
The two found themselves sitting on the Striker, their leaves soaking in crystal clear water as they watched all the fish swim around them, curious about the two visitors
“I visited this island before on one of my missions.”
“Hm”
"Listen, Dokucha, I have told you about my father, yeah?”
“Yes, you did.”
“The reason why I'm so pushy on stopping what you’re doing is because I made the same mistake, and it cost me over 15 years of my life” he started, noticing how his words had finally gotten the girl’s attention
“ I spent all that time trying to follow my father’s legacy, to surpass him. To become the pirate king, to Defeat whitebeard. All the while, it just ate me inside; I was blindsided and led by my anger toward him for all those years. I missed many opportunities to enjoy, to have a carefree childhood just to accomplish that goal”
“How did you…why…”
“Why I stopped?”
“Yes”
“I found pops.”
“ I thought your goal was to take him down to prove yourself?” She asked now facing his way as her legs Straddled the Striker giving him her full attention, loookimg up at him in confusion
“It was; I spent the next few days going after him even after he took me into the moby; every day, I would try.”
“I refuse to believe that” she scoffed with an amused laugh
“I'm serious!
Tried over a hundred times, and every time, I would end up with either a bloody nose or thrown into the sea.”
She covers her mouth as she lets out a muffled laugh at the thought of a grumpy, drenched Ace
“A-Anyway, after that, Marco and later Pops talked with me; it made me realize how useless it was to try to take Pops down and follow after someone else’s dream.”
“Din’t you feel disappointed?”
“Quite the opposite, I felt free for the first time, felt free to make choices based on what I wanted and not to surpass my father; it’s led me to where I am now, and it was the best realization I made in my life.”
“…”
“Keep it in mind, okay? Let’s head back for now,” he said, pushing himself up, extending a hand to the girl as he prepped the Striker
“How do you think I should start?”
“Start what?” He questions, manauvering the Striker through the waves, slowing down as he puts his attention on her
“Letting go”
“Maybe you should start with this,” he said, flicking their head
“Jerk, what was the reason for that?”
“Stop trying to change yourself; your roots are coming out; why don’t you let them grow?”
“Ah!” She exclaims covering her head at his comment, missing the way he sighed and shook his head only to come back to her senses as a weight was placed on her head
“You should be proud of yourself, the way you look, the way you are; at the end of the day, it’s yours, not his; now might be the best time
She looks up at the ravenette questioningly, his iconic hat now missing from his head and gingerly placed on hers
“What do you mean?”
He simply gestures to the new vessel now anchored next to the Moby Dick
“What is he doing here.”
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Thoughts?
Taglist:
@Imaginarydreams
@amethystviolin
@h0n3y-l3m0n05
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selfloverrrrrr · 3 days
Text
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You're alone...? (Part-2)
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Warnings : Noncon, kissing, Kidnapping, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, protective, jealous, Mafia Au....
Summary: Gojo and Sukuna are rivals. Sukuna pulled Gojo's trigger without any reason now Gojo came to take revenge....
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( All characters are aged up/18+)
Masterlist
Minors Do Not Interact
Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report
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The next morning I woke up. I slowly opened my eyes. The sunlight hit my eyes. When my eyes gets adjust with the light I saw I was in a bedroom. A luxury bedroom. That's not my bedroom! Where was I? I've never seen this bedroom in my entire life! I tried to get out of the bed I felt a soreness between my legs. Then I remembered what happened last night! Fuck how did I forget what that bitch did!! I hate Gojo. And now I really think that brother was really right.
I had a luxury bedroom too but this was on another level. Then another question came in my mind. If Gojo kidnapped me for my brother Sukuna.... then why am I in a luxury room? He won't treat his worst enemie's sister like this! I got up from the bed and saw I was in a white dress. He gave me a dress?.... But why?
I heard a sound of the door opening. There was a maid standing there. I looked at her. "Ma'am your breakfast is ready" she said. Breakfast? Why the fuck are they treating me as if I'm there guest. " I don't need breakfast" I replied and got out of the room beside her. "Ma'am please eat or Mr.Gojo gonna kill us." She said. "Tell him I said to kill himself first" I replied her and started walking through the hallway.
I stopped infront of a room which's door was open. There was Gojo sitting. It was Gojo's office. He was talking with Yuta and Megumi. When I reached the room Gojo looked at me. I went inside. "Why the fuck you took me here???" I said. Gojo looked at Yuta and Megumi and they went out of the room. Gojo looked at the maid behind me. "Did you gave her breakfast?" He asked her. "N-No ... She d-didn't ate" she replied. "Didn't I told you to give her breakfast?!" Gojo said in a cold tone. "S-sir I did but she said..." She spoke "what she said?" Gojo asked. "S-she said to tell you to kill yourself" she said in a whisper. Gojo smirked and looked at me "oh?" Then again looked at the maid "gimme the breakfast" he said.
The maid bring the breakfast and give it to Gojo. "Eat it" he said. "Fuck you!" I said with grinded teeth. "We already did last night, darling" he said with a smirk. I glared at him. "Keep your breakfast to yourself.... and don't act like you care!" I said. He started walking towards me and I started walking backwards. My legs touched the couch and I fell on it. Gojo seat beside me. "I. Said. Eat. It" Gojo said seriously. Tbh I am kinda scared of him. I try to cover it but I am. I took the plate from his hand and start eating. "Now was it that tough?" He said with a smirk. I looked away with a blush on my cheeks and continued eating.
Some time passed. I was again in that bedroom. A maid entered the room. There was a flower vase with full of roses in her hand. She placed it on the night stand. She was about to leave. "Hey...can I ask you something?" I asked. "Sure ma'am" she replied. " Is this a guest room or something...?" I asked. " No no... It's Mr.Gojo's private bedroom" she replied. His private bedroom? Why is he keeping me in his private room? Strange! "Umm... can u tell me....Why am I in this room ?" I asked. "I don't know ma'am.... Mr.Gojo told us to keep you here" she replied. "Oh... okey " I replied. But I still can't understand why is he keeping me here?!
An hour or two passed. I was reading a book which the maid gave. Suddenly the door opened. " Hey Gojo... Just do the deal I'm waiting for too long!!" A guy said hurshly. He was tall. Not taller than Gojo. He has blonde hair and sharp eyes. He looked at me with curious. He kinda looks creepy.
"G-gojo isn't here" I said. " Who are you? I knew Gojo doesn't like or have any whores... Neither he's interested in any relationship..." He said. " She's y/n, Mr.Noya .... Sister of Sukuna " his bodyguard said from behind. Then Noya again looked at me with a smirk. " Sukuna's sister working as a slut for Gojo?" He said. " Gojo won't mind if I have fun with her for a few time" he said and started walking towards me.
My eyes widened. He was infront of the bed. I started climbing upwards. "Don't come close!" I said. "Shh... You're just a woman... women should obey what a guy says " he said. He was too close to me. Suddenly someone grabbed Noya from behind, turned him around and choked him on the bed. It was Gojo. He was choking Noya so hard that Noya couldn't breathe. " How fucking dare you!!!! You tried to touch her!...are you wishing for your death?!" Gojo said with grinded teeth. Noya was slapping Gojo's hand to get out of his grab.
Gojo punched him with his another hand. "Do. Not. Look. At. Her. With. Your. Fucking. Eyes." Gojo said and threw him on the floor. Noya was breathing heavily. "Yuta throw him out of my house and tell him I'm not gonna have any deals with the zenin anymore" he said. They all went out and closed the door.
Gojo looked at me. I looked at him. Tears falling down eyes. He sit infront of me. " Hey hey... don't cry" he said and grabbed my hands "it's okey... I'm here" he said. "H-he.... He called me a s-slut" I sobbed. ' fuck! I called her that too last night....but why didn't she said anything to Me?' Gojo thought. " Don't worry.... If he ever even try to think about you I'll blow his fucking skull!" He said hugging me tightly. Why does it feels so safe in his arms??? He's not anything to Me... then why? I was still sobbing. Gojo grabbed my chin and tilted my head up. He pressed his lips on mine. I didn't pulled away this time! I want to pull away he's not anything to Me! But I couldn't! And I don't know when did I fall asleep in his arms.
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PART-3 COMING SOON....
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Give me your requests guys...
I love when you give me your requests 💗
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brucewaynehater101 · 2 days
Note
As someone who is partly deaf, I love that deaf Tim stuff. But hear me out for something that could work for either of them. What if on complete accident when both the Bats and Rouges hear about Tim's disability, the Rouges are the ones who do a better job with not looking down on Tim. Yes they add things to help him, like for Deaf Tim Joker would also use ASL as he monologs to make sure that Tim can understand him or with Blind Tim Riddler makes puzzle rooms themed around telling the difference in textures or he reads all the riddles out loud.
Meanwhile the Bats are. They *tried* ok? But they keep over compensating because they worry about Tim. Unlike the Rouges who don't pull their punches, during training the Bats do start pulling punches and going a little easier on Tim. Dick keeps trying to do things for Tim that Tim knows he can do. Bruce keeps taking him off cases that involve in person investigation. Damian keeps saying things about how all tasks should be left to him because clearly he's the superior one (if it's early Damian, later on when they're on better terms he wouldn't be as assholish about it but also keeps trying to take over tasks for Tim)
I'm really really glad that you vibed with the AU.
As far as your additions, I 100% agree. Having "good intentions" for people can still be harmful and frustrating. That's why, in these AUs, Tim tries to hide his disability until he's able to prove his efficiency. It's dealer's choice whether the Bats choose to acknowledge the evidence or are still doubting his capabilities.
I think the fic from the OG post has a scene where Babs, Cass, and Tim meet up to discuss the microaggressions they face from the Bats due to their respective disabilities. The sequel definitely has cute interactions between Damian and Tim. Damian refuses for anyone to treat his "rival" as weak or incapable. Peak siblings energy.
The funny part I find about this would be the Rogues accommodating Tim's disabilities just so they can defeat him. If Joker learned ASL for Tim, he'd probably research the hell out of how to look intimidating and scary while doing it (since, depending on Tim's hearing loss, Joker can't effectively utilize the vocal tone skills he's trained to be terrifying). Riddler would treat it as another puzzle and mental exercise (his Riddles would likely increase in accessibility for multiple disabilities as time progresses. He wants to challenge folks by their thinking abilities, not by their ability to test within the constraints placed on them. Perhaps, after his research and new implementations, he even starts targeting schools that unfairly places confines on their students [from both a socioeconomic standpoint and from improper accommodations]).
Anyways, I would love a fic that highlights some of the Bats' treatment of Tim and how not to interact with folks of different disabilities. Stuff like infantilizing, doing tasks for the person without permission, assuming what someone can handle, and disregarding them. It'd be cool to watch Tim try open communication (asking boundaries and what level of assistance the person desires) with all of them. For some, that's all that's needed. They have a clear guideline of "that shit was not okay" and the lines of communication are open for them to ask clarification in the future. For others, they listen to Tim, agree to change, and still pull that shit. I personally vote for Tim getting petty.
I feel like Babs and Cass would be the ones to understand the most that Tim can do anything he sets his mind to (he's so incredibly stubborn that he'd probably even be able to steal LexCorp from Luthor if he was motivated enough. He most likely even has plans already drawn for it ready to implement at any point). Duke would probably understand how others' perceptions of Tim affect him.
I also kill for Tim utilizing WE resources to bring aid and accommodations based on more specific audiences (such as how kids in the foster system, LGBT youth, and those with disabilities [both mental and physical] disportionately make up the homeless population).
I'm rambling a bit because sociology is a passion of mine. I'd get a higher education on the subject if I had the money.
Anyways, I love considering such perspectives in fanfiction. Let me know if there's other stuff I should add to this AU!
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mikobeautifulheart · 2 days
Text
Touching their weak spot
-Part 2-
INCLUDING: GOJO, GETO and NANAMI
ALSO SURGESSTIVE.
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~Gojo~
"I'm not gonna hurt you pookie, just turn your infinity off" You said smiling.
"Uh nope. Nuh uh you called me pookie, somethings up." Gojo said somewhat afraid for the first time in his life, he came home from a mission only to sense you from behind him.
"Look Satoru you've been gone for so longgggg I miss you so muchhhh."
"Its been 2 hours-"
"Aww and i'm touch starved, turn the damn infinity off."
"Baby I love you but your scaring me"
In reality you were no competition, you knew if you fought Gojo you would lose. Unless you pulled your special move.
"You know what? forget it." You said walking out the room leaving him confused.
Not even a second after there was a loud crashing sound from your direction, he panicked and rushed into the room.
There you were on the floor, seemingly unconscious, flower vase knocked over with shards of it everywhere. Flowers and petals alike scattered around the ground.
"Y/N?" Gojo said rushing to you and elevating your upper body, looking for injuries.
You opened your eyes and dramatically gasped for air before mouthing words.
"What, wait Y/n I can't hear you"
He leaned his head in closer to hear you whiper.
"Gottcha"
"Hu-AHH"
You had took the opportunity to glide your fingertips down the back of his neck.
"So you did really miss me huh?" He said with a smirk while you repaired the vase with your cursed technique.
"Not as much as you miss me" you said feeling something hard on your lower back.
It wasn't his hand or leg.
-Geto-
"Suguruuuuu" you whinned while throwing your arms around his neck from behind.
"Your so busy with work and missions all the time , spend some time with meee."
No response.
"Suguruuuuu pleaseee"
Still no response. You hummed in disappointment. He left you no choice but to do that.
You put your lips right behind his ear and whispered to him.
"God, Suguru I'm so lonley." And topped it off with a small sigh.
His body shuttered.
You felt his ear heat up against your lips and before you knew it you got his attention for sure.
"Your so needy" he said lifting you up and placing you on the couch.
His hands slowly went up your thighs until they reached the hem of your skirt.
"I told you not to go there, remember? Can't keep myself restrained if your going to keep going on like this ya' know."
"Whatcha doing Suguru?" You hummed as your eyes patiently locked with his.
"Whatever you want~"
•Nanami•
"Ken, you looked stressed" you said standing nexted to the very exhausted Nanami.
First he had to work over time, then he came home late and now he has to do all this paperwork by tomorrow without getting distracted by his very pretty wife.
"Mhm, I am." He hummed, turning the page over to finalise everything.
"You should have a break. It's not good on your health to be that stressed." You sighed
"I have to get this done now or I'll be behind in all my work y/n, I can't kust have a break."
"Not even for me?" You asked brushing your lips against his neck and loosening his tie slowly.
His breath hitched as your gentle lips only grazed his skin. His heart burst and he couldn't keep his composite any longer.
"Well that's another story." He said pulling you by your hips and guiding you onto an empty spot on your desk.
You pulled his tie to bring his lips closer and he pushed the paper work off the desk while he felt another hand play with him belt buckel.
"You really know how to deal with stress huh?"
"I don't know, let's find out."
THAKS FOR READING ♡
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AUTHOURS NOTE: Yes this is a part 2, yes there will be a part 3, it will be a Yuta and Toge one, yes I take requests and reblogs r welcomed. Have a good whatever time.
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oneforthemunny · 3 days
Note
A nsfw game, so fun!! My roll is 4,F,$ (for you to write) 😌 😈
ahh the first one!!! for you, your roll is: mafia!eddie, standing up, paddle.
minors dni. dom/sub themes, spanking, daddy kink.
"Keep your hands on your head," Eddie's voice was firm, commanding with little to no room for argument, a stark contrast to his usual cooing soft tone he used with you.
"You move those hands and I start over, do you hear me?" You squirmed at the authority in his voice, tensing your arms that were already beginning to tire. You could hear Eddie behind you, rummaging through his 'play' closet, where he kept all your favorite toys- and some of your least favorite ones too.
"Hey," Eddie barked, you stiffened, spine straightening. You turned, just barely, hands still planted firmly on your head, looking at him over your elbow.
Eddie lifted a brow. "I said, do you hear me?"
Your heart jumped at the growl, heat spilling to your core, shifting from foot to foot, thighs squeezing, desperate to dull the throbbing between your legs. "Yes," You squeaked.
Eddie lifted a brow, a ringed hand wrapped around the leather paddle. You nearly whined at the sight of it. "What's gotten into you?" Eddie's tone dropped, eyes scanning your features carefully. "Why're you actin' bad?"
You knew he was looking for a sign, anything telling in your expression that he had miscalculated. That you were actually mad at him or upset, that you didn't want to play. He didn't find that, of course, because you did want to play. He was doing exactly what you wanted him to. He had since the luncheon with Rick, when you'd boldly tried to slip your hand into his pants over and over until he grabbed your hand, growling a warning in your ear that left you throbbing.
"I'm not acting bad," You huffed, giving him an eye roll that sealed the deal- you were wanting to play, desperate for it. "I just wanted to show you some love, Eddie."
"Yeah? And you know better than to do it like that." Eddie grit his teeth, twisting the paddle in his hands. "And you know better than to address me like that. You don't call me that in here."
You pressed your lips together, swallowing back a moan. Your knees wobbled, thighs pressing tighter and tighter. Eddie lifted a brow, nostrils flaring at your defiance.
He took a step back, a ringed hand holding your left wrist to keep you in place. You attempted to squirm, before you even had the chance, the paddle was swinging back, falling on your bare ass with a snapping fury.
You squealed, hands lifting off your head in surprise, reactively going to cover your backside, but Eddie caught them before you could. His large hand held yours wrists in place, bringing the paddle down again.
"What. Do. You. Call. Me?" He sneered, alternating between cheeks, punctuating each word with a solid spank of the leather paddle.
Your skin was already beginning to throb, itchy with uncomfortable searing pain that seemed to only go straight to your aching core. "Daddy!" You cried out, teeth clenching to try and keep your tears from falling. "I'm sorry, Daddy!"
"Hmm," Eddie exhaled slowly, grip loosening on your wrists. "That's what I thought." His hand ghosted over your hot flesh, squeezing your right cheek just to hear you whine.
"Get those hands back in place and keep them up there." Eddie commanded, stepping back with the paddle. "Move 'em again, and I'm serious, Kitten, I'll start over."
Your body trembled, goosebumps blossoming down your spine, threading your fingers together and placing them at the top of your head. Eddie tapped the paddle on your ass, a warning, before he landed a solid swat in the center.
He kept his rhythm up, building and alternating from one cheek to the other, while you danced from foot to foot. The fat of your ass jiggling with every jump, making his own mouth fill with spit.
"Now," Eddie set the paddle down on the large mahogany desk, slowly stepping over to you. Your body shook with soft sobs, sniffling wetly with your hands still on your head.
"You learned your lesson?" Eddie's hand rubbed over your ignited skin, a soothing rub of his calloused palms.
"Y-Yes, Daddy." You hiccuped, eyes shining when they met his. He had to swallow down his urge to push you up against the wall right there and fuck you.
"I think you have too." Eddie muttered, nose rubbing over your wet cheek. His hand slid from your ass to your waist, pulling you close to him so your back was flush with his chest.
"Are you ready to be good?" Eddie rasped, his breath hot on your skin. You shivered, his lips leaving wet smooches on your raised arms. "Ready to make it up to Daddy?"
You nodded, a whimper strangled in your throat. "Yes, Daddy." You sniffled, wet lashes batting towards him. "I'll be good."
Eddie smiled, teeth grazing over your ear playfully before he spun you around. He guided your hands off your head, squeezing your upper arms affectionately. "Good," His nose was nearly brushing yours, curly bangs tickling your forehead.
His hands went to his pants between the two of you, undoing them and shoving them to the ground. You looked, tongue running over your bottom lip at the sight of his cock, already leaking for you.
Eddie's hand caught your chin, lifting your eyes back to his gently. He held your gaze for a moment, scanning over your features before his lips twitched in a wicked grin. "Why don't you show me how sorry you are, hm?"
Your knees tightened, nodding enthusiastically, kneeling on the carpet before him, pumping his length. Eddie watched, your eyes never leaving his as you waited for his nod. When he gave it to you, your tongue licked a stripe over his leaking tip. Eddie groaned, head tipping back as you swallowed him, letting you show him how sorry you were.
140 notes · View notes
vampqueen777 · 22 hours
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Summary: After a stressful week, you and Chan decide on a relaxing movie night, which turns into something more.
Chan x virgin!Reader
TW: afab reader, oral and fingering (f receiving), implied creampie, loss of virginity, slight choking, rough sex, reader is shy
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It’s been a long week. Work has been running you ragged. From deadlines to meetings to presentations, you’ve barely been able to take the time to care for yourself. Something that your boyfriend, Chan, wasn’t too fond of.
Luckily, you were off the rest of the weekend, and Chan decided it was a perfect time to pamper and spoil you. Tonight, the plan is simple, order in and watch a movie. You both decided to re-watch the Deadpool movies since the new one will be out soon.
Since you cuddled up with Chan for your movie date night, he has been running his hand back and forth on the skin of your lower back, below your shirt. It makes it so hard to focus on the movie, and you find yourself fidgeting to get some friction where you needed it most.
You were a virgin and nervous as all hell. You’ve been in this position with Chan before, but you haven’t gone any further. You want to, but your nerves keep getting the best of you. What if you mess up? What if you don’t make him cum? How do you even bring it up?
Your brain is all over the place. The movie has pretty much become background noise for your thoughts.
By now, the food has been devoured, and the two of you are halfway through the second Deadpool movie. Chan can tell you aren’t fully paying attention to the movie, most likely still thinking about work. Little did he know that work was the last thing on your mind at the moment.
Chan really just wanted you to have a relaxing weekend after the week you’ve had. Luckily, he knows a few more ways to get you to relax.
He began letting his hands wander a bit more. Kneading and massaging your thigh, trying to get you to relax, but when he feels you tense even more, he begins to think he's made you uncomfortable.
“Baby? Are you okay? Am I making you uncomfortable?”
You can’t find it in you to answer, so you give a quick shake of your head. This causes Chan to raise his eyebrow, looking at you questioningly. He reaches for the remote and pauses the movie, sitting up to look at you properly.
“What’s going on? And don’t say nothing.” Chan pushes.
At that point, your cheeks are burning with embarrassment at getting caught in your dirty thoughts. You find yourself burying your face in his chest in an attempt to hide. This only worries Chan more. You're aren’t the type to hide things from him, so when you hesitate to tell him what was wrong, his mind thought of the worst-case scenario.
“Baby? You’re scaring me. Please tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something? If so I’m sorry, and I can fix it. I just need-” Chan rabbled. Hearing the worry and panic in his voice has you snapping your eyes to meet his, and you’re quick to reassure him.
"No! No, baby. It’s not you. I promise. You haven’t done anything wrong, and you have nothing to apologize for.” You say, quickly. Chan lets out the breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. Just relieved that he hadn’t upset you.
“Whew, good. But is there still something on your mind, right?” Chan asks.
Damn. You’ve been caught. Quickly, you try to think of a way out of this without embarrassing yourself. Chan, being as observant as always, notices this.
“Babygirl, you know you can tell me anything. If something is going on, I deserve to know so we can work through it.” Chan says softly. You know he’s right, but you still have no idea how to bring up the topic of sex. In that moment, your brain decided that the best way to tell Chan what had been plaguing your mind was to just blurt it out.
“I think I'm ready to have sex with you.” The words coming out so fast that you weren’t sure Chan even heard you. But he did. And he froze. Did he hear you right? Were you sure? What if he hurt you? His mind was racing just like yours moments ago.
You take Chan’s silence as apprehension and try to mend the awkward moment. “I-I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry if I made-” Your words have Chan snapping out of his daze, and he is quick to stop your rambling.
“No, baby girl. Don’t apologize. I was just shocked, that's all. I mean, are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured or like we have to rush into anything. I'm okay with waiting.” Chan reassures you.
“I’m sure. I’ve been thinking of it for a while now, I just didn’t know how to bring it up.” You inform him. Chan stares at you, trying to find any hint of apprehension, but he finds none. After a brief moment, Chan leans in to kiss you. You welcome it, opening your mouth to allow Chan’s tongue to snake in.
Before long, the kiss turns passionate, and clothes are strewn across the apartment as you both make your way into the bedroom.
Chan has you pinned to the bed, peppering kisses down your body before settling between your legs.
“Can I taste you, baby?” Chan asks, looking up at you. You shyly nod your head. Your nerves are high. You worried you don’t taste good or you’ll mess up.
Chan could read your worries easily. Taking your hands in his and interlocking your fingers, he silently reassures you. You take a deep breath and nod your head again, telling him you're ready.
That was all the confirmation Chan needed to start eating you out like a mad man. He couldn’t get enough. You were so sweet. So perfect and the noises you were making were nearly enough to make him cum immediately.
It felt so fucking good. You could feel your high quickly approaching, pleasure drowning out your nerves. Your finger snake their way into Chan’s hair, trying pulling him even closer but resulting in a deep groan coming from Chan. That was enough to throw you over the edge.
Once Chan is pleased with how he’s prepped you, he pulls away and removes his fingers. He watches your pussy clench around nothing over and over before he gently rolls you onto your stomach.
Chan settles behind you, resting on the back of your thighs. "Ready, baby?" He asks. You give him a shy nod. "Okay. Deep breaths. Relax." He says calming as he starts to push in, slowly.
The stretch is painful, and you struggle to stay calm and relaxed. When Chan feels you tense up, he stops. "Shhhh, you're okay. Just relax." He says, soothing you.
He gives you a moment. Once he feels you relax again, he starts pushing in again. You put all of your energy into focusing on your breathing and trying to stay relaxed, but as the burn intensifies, you find yourself tensing again. Chan is quick to notice and pauses again. "Easy baby. You can take it. You just have to go slow. We're halfway there." He says calmly as he massages the tense muscles in your back.
Soon, you find yourself totally relaxed again. It's like his praises have put you under some sort of spell. You barely even notice that he's pushing in again. It isn't long before Chan finds himself buried to the hilt in your heat. You're so tight and warm around him. All he can do is groan as he tries to remain still. You, on the other hand, are completely overwhelmed by the fullness you feel.
It takes you a while to adjust, but Chan, being the gentleman he is, waits patiently. He just continues to massage away all your tension while whispering soft praises.
"See, I told you you'd be able to take it." He says, peppering light kisses down your neck and shoulder.
You move slightly, trying to get more comfortable and find yourself whimpering at the pain.
"It hurts." You whine to Chan. "I know, baby. It's okay. It's normal for it to hurt a little your first time. You're okay, I've got you." Chan says as he continues to layer kisses over your skin, trying to soothe you as well as ground himself. It's all he could do to not pound into you like a mad man.
After a short while, the pain begins to fizzle out. "Okay, I think you can move." You tell Chan, once again relaxing your body.
Slowly, Chan pulls out, and you find yourself hissing into the pillow. Chan just shooshes you as he slowly pushes back in. He repeats the motion, leaning over to take one of your hands in his as his other hand rests on your waist.
Once he feels you relax more underneath him and he hears your whimpers morph into moans, Chan picks up his pace a little.Pleasure begins to spark like electricity all over your body, but there is still a tinge of pain.
"How does it feel, baby?" Chan groans out. He is doing absolutely everything he can to keep a slow, steady pace for you, but he's slipping.
"It still hurts a little, but it's starting to feel good." You tell him honestly through whimpers and moans you fail to hide. He hates how you try to stay quiet but knows you're shy, and it's your first time, so he will let it slide for now. Chan leans in close, trailing kisses up your neck and to the sweet spot behind your ears. He lets out a deep groan as he feels you clench around him.
"Want me to make it feel even better?" He whispers in your ear. You fail to stop the moan that spills out of you as you eagerly nod your head, leaving a cocky smirk on Chan's face.
"Lift your hips a little." He demands, and you're quick to comply. The hand that was resting on your waist snakes its way down between your thighs and plays with your wetness, gently strumming your clit, leaving you gasping.
That did it. That broke him. He couldn't hold back anymore. "Say red if you want me to stop, okay." Chan says, clenching his jaw. You quickly nod, letting out a faint yes. Chan tucks his knees closer to your body before he begins bucking wildly into you.
The room is filled with the rapid sound of Chan's body connecting with yours and your louds moans that can no longer be contained. Chan was right. This feels amazing. You don't even know why you were so nervous to do this anymore.
Chan chants praises and groans, and he pounds you into the mattress. He keeps a constant and steady rhythm on your clit. It isn't long before he feels you clamping down on him with a scream of his name. It takes everything in him not to cum on the spot. He wants more, he needs you to come again.
He quickly pulls out, making you hiss, before flipping you on your back. He's back inside you, pounding away, before you even have a chance to comprehend the position change. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you hook your feet around Chan's waist, trying to pull him deeper.
Chan lets out a growl as he snakes his hand up to your throat, squeezing ever so slightly. Your eyes widen as they meet his, grabbing hold of his wrist. He's watching you so intently, looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he's met with a look of total bliss on your face as you clench so hard you nearly push him out.
You're quickly approaching another high and Chan has no intention of slowing down until you cum again. Chan is close too, trying desperately to hold off, to finish with you. He's a babbling mess of praises and groans. You're so close to the edge, just needing another push to send you over. You use your other hand to cover your mouth as you feel like you want to scream in please. This pissed Chan off. He ripped your hand away and held it above your head.
"Don't do that. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel." Chan grunts. You comply, and you're sure there will be a noise complaint in the morning.
"F- Fuck, baby. You feel so good. You're gonna make me cum! Please, please baby. Cum with me. Cum." Chan babbles. That's all you needed to hurtle into a mind-numbing orgasm, taking Chan with you.
For a few minutes, the room is filled with the sound of your combined panting as you both can down from your highs. Chan slumps forward, releasing your throat and wrists and supports his weight on his elbows.
"Are you okay, baby? Did I hurt you?" Chan asks, loving tucking some hair behind your ear. You look at him with a tired smile. "No, baby. That was perfect. Thank you." Chan giggles."My pleasure, baby. Let's get you cleaned up, then we can cuddle."
He slowly pulls out you, and you both wince with the overstimulation. Chan tells you to stay put as he gets off the bed and heads into the bathroom. You hear the water running and wonder what he's doing.
Closing your eyes for a moment, you try to calm your rapid heartbeat and slow your breathing. You suddenly feel something warm and wet touch your inner thigh, making you jump. You open your eyes to find Chan wiping up the mess you've both made between your thighs with a warm cloth. Still so sensitive and now growing sore, you whimper in discomfort. Chan soothes you. "I know, baby, look at this mess. You did so well for me." Soon, you're all cleaned up. Chan throws the cloth in the hamper before tucking you under the blanket and crawling in next to you.
"I love you, Channie." You say tiredly. Chan can't help but giggle at how cute you are.
"I love you too, baby. Always."
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ebodebo · 11 hours
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summary: the cia is going against taskforce 141, making ghost a fugitive. unfortunately, he gets hurt and a detective takes him to a near by hospital, that an old friend happens to work at.
pairing: ghost x f!reader
a/n: hello! i am back..ik i'm literally only writing for ghost, but i can't help it he's so ughhh anyways i can't take credit for this bc a bestie of mine (@callsign-artemis) randomly just sent me the idea and i loved it! so, here she is! hopefully you enjoy:)
word count: 2.3k+
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The Fugitive
"Hey, Marcey, I don't suppose you could squeeze one in the schedule?" Detective Marsh's voice rang in the matte black Dodge Charger he sat in. 
She huffed out. "John." 
"I know. I know." He quickly supplied, sparing a look to the backseat, where an injured, bleeding Ghost sat. "But, this one is messed up pretty bad." He could feel Marcey roll her eyes. "They usually are "messed up pretty bad." She said, quoting his words.
"Honey." He sighed. "I know the guy. He's a friend." He exhaled. Marcey paused for a moment. "Okay. I have a doctor on rotation who's available." She finally said. "But, this is it. I can't keep doing favors just because your boys flubbed up." 
"And you won't have to anymore because, effective immediately, I'm firing Jensen and Miles." He states. "It's too much Goddamned paperwork. Gives me a headache." He says while bringing one hand to rub his temple, the other gripping the steering wheel. 
"Good for you, boss," Marcey emphasizes the last word, causing Detective Marsh to let out a gruff laugh. "Park in the back when you get here." She stated, swiftly typing on her computer. 
"I'm outside. In the front." He confessed. "Of course you are." Marcey sighed. "I'll be right there." 
Detective Marsh looks up at the rearview mirror, carefully observing Ghost. "Does it hurt?" Detective Marsh questioned.
"What do you think?" Ghost snarkily said, his voice deep and gravely, as he held his bleeding side. Detective Marsh gave him a light laugh. "Stupid question." He confirmed. 
Marcey appeared through the revolving doors that led into the hospital. She carefully knocked on the driver's side of the Dodge, where Detective Marsh sat. 
"You seriously couldn't have parked in the back. You are going to scare my patients." She crosses her arms as she opens his car door. "This was closer. I'm sorry." He said, unbuckling his seatbelt, then stepping out of the car. "He's in the backseat." He opens the backseat, revealing Ghost. 
"Oh my-" Marcey begins inspecting his bloody side before beckoning the two nurses she brought. "What the hell happened?" She questions, hands on her hips, moving aside so the nurses can get him out of the car, though he stubbornly swats them away to get out on his merit. 
"From what I know, the guys were in pursuit, and they found him all bent to hell." He shrugs. 
"That's what they told you? Jensen and Miles?" She skeptically asks as Ghost begrudgingly allows the nurses to get him out of the car. He nods. "I know. I know. I'm going out to get a full report from some pedestrians at the scene." He grips her shoulder a bit. "Might not answer my phone for a bit. I already know the DA got wind of this. So, he's going to be busting my balls and the entire PD's for the next week or so." He kisses her temple before getting back into his car.
"No need to worry, John. We'll take care of him." She smiles.
He smiles back, closing his door. Before he pulls away, he rolls his window down. "Also, I forgot to mention, he's wanted by the CIA, so this place might be swarmed with suits. Love you, bye." He swiftly states as Marcey's face contorts. "Wait. Wha—" she begins, but he pulls off before she can rain her terror on him. 
Marcey curses before she turns to the nurses heading inside the hospital. "Unfortunately, we'll have to take him through the lobby since my husband decided he was too lazy to spring for the extra yards around' the back. Just take him to the OR." Both nurses nod and attempt to grab Ghost. 
"I can walk," he proclaims as he stumbles to the revolving doors. Marcey stares at the nurses. "Just make sure he doesn't fall on his way." She lightly waves them towards him. 
"The OR is this way, sir." One of the nurses steps in front of him, leading him towards a big metal door. 
All three of them pushed through the door and immediately are met with the room's cold air. "Just lay on the bed. Careful not to lay on your right side," one of the nurses chimed. 
"Got it." He grits as he carefully lays himself on the bed, positioned on his back. "What hospital am I at?" Ghost questions, gripping his side. 
"Highlands Medical," one nurse answers as she gets his IV drip ready. He makes a thoughtful expression. "Don't suppose Y/N still works here? Huh?"
"Oh yeah. Dr. Y/L/N. She still works here. Has been for a couple of years, actually." The nurse quickly finds his vein and gently sticks the IV in his arm. "I want her." He plainly states.
"Sorry, she has another patient at the moment. Dr. Brazo is great, though."
"No." He looks at the nurse. "I want her."
The nurses look at each other for a moment. "I'm sorry, but unfortunately—" He is quick to pull his IV out. 
"What are you-" The nurse questions. "You can't leave." The other nurse chimes as Ghost sits up, gritting his teeth as he feels his side ache. "I told you. I want her." He pauses. "And if I can't have her, I'm leaving."
They eye each other once again. "Okay, okay. Just lay back. I'll go get her." He narrows his eyes. "I will," she assures him. He gently lies back as the nurse once again sticks his IV in his arm. 
Before the nurse could leave, there was a knock at the door, followed by an intense voice. "PD," the voice said, opening the door. It was three police officers. "Simon Riley?" one asked, looking at Ghost, to which he nodded. 
"Gonna' have to handcuff you." He strolled over to the bed, pulling out his handcuffs and cuffing him to either side of the bed. "We're also gonna' have to stay in here." Two police officers stood in front of the door, and the other moved closer to Ghost's bed.
"Isn't this a bit overkill?" One nurse said as she grabbed Ghost's chart. "Direct orders," the officer who handcuffed him said. "Well, I need to go get the doctor. I can leave, right?" The two police officers by the door stepped aside and let her slip through.
The nurse made her way to room 104, where you were, gently knocking on the door. "Sorry to interrupt, Dr. Y/L/N. Can I speak to you for a moment?" You raised your brow, issuing an apology to your patient before stepping outside. 
"What's going on?" you ask, crossing your arms. "Well, we have a guy in the OR. He's uh... he's requested you." The nurse hands over his chart.
"No name?" You say, examining the blank name section of the chart. "He won't talk much. So, we just wrote down where he was injured." The nurse looks at you. "Did you tell him I was busy with another patient?" You hand the nurse the chart back. "Yes, several times, but he threatened to leave. Even pulled out his IV." The nurse let out a little laugh
You titled your head. "Call Dr. Lindley. She can take over this patient; she owes me." You grab the chart again. "In the OR, yes?" The nurse nods. You glance over the chart again before opening the door to your patient. "I'm sorry, Ms. Lawson. There is an emergency in the OR. But Dr. Lindley will be here shortly. I have sent her your charts so she knows your condition. Again, I apologize for the inconvenience." You earnestly say, but to your surprise, she seems fine with the change. 
You step out of room 104 with the nurse by your side and notice the influx of police in the lobby. "What the hell is going on?" You turn to the nurse with you. "I'm not sure, but earlier, three police officers came in the OR. I think they're still there." You breathe out and head towards the big metal door, though you are unable to open it.
"Excuse me. I need in." You raise your voice, knocking on the cold metal. The door is instantly opened, and he meets you.
"Simon." You question observing his disheveled state. 
"Hey, doc." You cringe at his voice. It was deep and rough. Commanding. It spliced through the air and demanded attention. It was the same, but slightly different than the voice you heard all those years ago.
"What happened to you?" You walk over to him, assessing his side.
"Got injured." He matter-of-factly proclaims.
You roll your eyes. "I see your sense of humor hasn't changed much." Your gaze travels to his hands, both glued to the bed and held by cuffs. "I can't work on him with cuffs," you remark, turning to the officers. "Sorry, I can't remove them," one says.
You frustratingly sigh. "I can't operate on him with handcuffs." You continue. "And if I don't operate on him, he'll bleed out and die." The officers glance at each other and then at Ghost.
"Don't worry, I'll be a good boy for the doctor." He remarks, the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smirks under his mask. "Fine, but don't try anything." One skeptically says, walking over to him and uncuffing both hands. 
You make your way over to him and carefully cut his shirt off, where his injury is. "So-" You begin, grabbing some iodine to clean the deep wound. "What's all this about? Are you a criminal now?" You question, gently laying some surgical drape over the area.
He shuddered at the direct contact, quietly cursing. "Sorry. It's going to hurt a little." You called for one of the nurses to grab the suture kit. "So, criminal?" You pushed again as the nurse handed you the kit.
He lets out a gruff laugh that tickles your ears. "No. Not a criminal." He pauses as you begin to use the kit to sew stitches under the skin. "It's complicated." He brusquely states. "Mhm. I see you're still the brooding, mysterious type. Huh?" You smile at him as his muscles contract at the needle going into his skin. 
"Brooding?" He huffs. You let out a laugh. "Very much so." You look up to notice he's staring at you. Your eyes instantaneously locked. It should feel awkward. There were five other people in there, but it felt like it was just the two of you at that moment. 
A knock at the door jolted you out of your daze. "Open the door," the voice on the other side demanded. The police in front of the door jumped but opened it a bit before opening it wider to accommodate the person.
"Christ. Why are all of you in here?" Detective Marsh gestures to all three officers. "You two sure as shit shouldn't be here." He gestures to the two officers standing in front of the door. "The DA has the whole departments ass because of you two." He wipes his hand across his jaw, which is covered in stubble. "Get out." He demands.
"But, sir-" One officer starts.
Detective Marsh's jaw tightens, causing both officers to hurry out the door. The last officer stands adjacent to where Ghost lays. "Sorry about that." Detective Marsh declares. He points at the remaining officer. "Come with me. I need backup downtown." The officer glances at Ghost. Detective Marsh rolls his eyes. "He's fine." The officer nods, and they head off. 
"Sweetheart." Ghost croaked. You look at him. "Your hand." He gestures to your hand resting on his side. "Sorry." You quickly pick up your gloved hand and reach for the saline to clean his wound. 
"I forgot I had a case scheduled today with Dr. Raines." You look up at the nurses. “Will you two go assist her?" They both nod and head out the door.
"Gotta' lot of patients today, doc." Ghost lifted a brow as you applied some antiseptic. "I thought they would have remembered that Dr. Raines is on maternity leave." You give him a cheeky smile.
"Wow. Lyin' to your coworkers? How insensitive." He sarcastically remarks as you snicker. "I just...I needed to talk to you." You confess, applying a large bandage to his side.
"In private?" You look up at him after you finish putting the bandage on. "In private," you confirm, gently pressing the bandage around the edges to secure it onto his skin. 
"What?" He tilted his head, taking notice of your silence. 
"I hate seeing you like this." You look up at him. "All bruised up."
"I'm fine." He assures, which makes you let out a laugh.
He tilts his head. "What's so funny?"
"You've always been so stubborn," you remark, absently stroking his thumb. You never let anyone help you. You always want to do things on your own, even if you can't."
"I let you help me." He lifts his finger to graze yours gently. "I know. I'm glad you did." You smile. "So, will you tell me why all the cops are interested in you?" You question, raising a brow. "No. I think I'll stay brooding." He quips. "Simon Riley, did you just make a joke?" You exclaim, making him let out a laugh. 
You both sat there for a moment, falling into a comfortable silence. You knew you most likely wouldn't see him again, and he knew the same. It's just how your relationship worked with him. You see him once in a blue moon, and then he disappears off the face of the earth for what feel like an eternity.
You loved Simon, and he loved you, but you both knew a relationship beyond what you had currently couldn't work, especially with him being God knows where with God knows who. There are too many trials and tribulations involved. It's better to keep it simple and one-dimensional, something Simon Riley is not. 
"I'll have to nurse fill out your discharge papers." You finally break the silence, gently squeezing his hand. He nods.
You don't know what possessed you, but you find yourself bending down to kiss him. He's quick to kiss you back. You pull back and head to the door, holding it open.
"Goodbye, Simon."
"Goodbye, Sweetheart."
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taglist: @callsign-artemis @yuenity @sceletaflores @chonkaydonkay @gowno1wysrane @harpsinfinity @bleached-punk @babygirl-riley @IMASLUTFORFICTIONALMEN @contractedcriteria @lunars-somehow-alive @theloneshadow24 @minihotdog @mrs-marc-spector - hopefully most of these work now! <3
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kazutora-kurokawa · 3 days
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lol I was thinking about how tenjiku's boys would react if one day his daughter brings a boy to their house and introduces him as her boyfriend, that shit is going to get crazy
Tenjiku When Their Daughter Brings Home Her Boyfriend
♡ SFW, fluff, pettiness, they're all single dads + protective dads ♡
Characters: Izana, Kakucho, Ran, Rindou, Mucho, Mochi, Shion
note: shit is indeed going to get crazy lol, thanks for requesting anon 🩷 also bf/n = boyfriend name
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Izana
🎴 Absolutely livid. No one is good enough for his daughter and he'll die on that hill.
"Y/n..who is this?"
"Dad this is bf/n, my boyfriend."
Refuses to shake your boyfriend's hand and mean mugs him the whole time he's there.
Kakucho
🩷 Super supportive but also protective. He can accept that you have a boyfriend, he just needs to vet the guy and make sure he's right for you. He won't bring up any worries while your boyfriend is actually around, he wouldn't want to offend him. Gives you a lecture on self-respect and healthy relationships. 10/10 father.
Ran
💜 He's so fucking rude, he'd let you in the house and close the door in your boyfriend's face.
"Dad! What the hell?"
"Oops, my bad."
He apologizes after you scold him, he's more of a child than you honestly. Eventually gives in and gets to know your boyfriend and concludes that he's okay.
Rindou
🩵 Doesn't like the idea of you dating but doesn't want to come off as too overprotective. He'll get to know your boyfriend and doesn't mind him coming over, as long as you keep the door open.
"You two have fun, I'll be in the living room if you need me..and keep the door open. If I see it closed you're losing door privileges, I'll take it off the hinges."
Mucho
💙 He's a big, intimidating man. Enough said for real. As soon as your boyfriend steps foot in the house, he's interrogating him.
"What's your name? What do your parents do? What do you want to pursue in life? Why are you interested in my daughter?"
Mochi
🍡 Another big, intimidating man. He's super chill compared to Mucho though, he'll actually get to know your boyfriend and joke around with him. They go from strangers to besties in a day.
"Y'know what? You're alright kid."
He'd probably stay friends with him if you two broke up.
Shion
♥️ He's probably more nervous than your boyfriend. He just wants you to be happy and if your boyfriend makes you happy then it's all cool. But he makes it clear what happens if he hurts you though.
"Listen kid, you seem to make my little girl happy...but if I ever see her sad because of you, or a hair out of place on her pretty head, I'm gonna break every bone in your body. One by one, slowly and methodically."
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Taglist
@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe
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