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#as long as he was doing good and helping people
gremlingottoosilly · 2 days
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Imagine a Virgin! Reader thinking she outsmarted König by saying “I’m waiting till marriage” so he has a mock wedding in the basement 😭 imagine he kidnapped a priest to do the vows aswell.
In this whole situation, you mostly feel bad for the priest. Honestly, he just drew the worst possible card of being available in town next to Konig's dwelling and not being that cool type of priest who carries a gun. Konig kidnapped him, using the same method as you - and now there are two people stuck in his basement, but only one coming out alive. And fucked, thoroughly. It's kinda your fault - you said that you will never agree to sex before marriage and that you're too pure and innocent to even think about kisses without a wedding band. Konig loves you, obsesses with you - and he appreciates just how pure you are. Compared to his jaded position and cynicism, you're a pretty flower growing in the desert. Konig's heart was broken far too many times, and his years in the military didn't help with being a nice guy either - so, he appreciates his future wife being a faithful woman who values her innocence. Still, he doesn't appreciate it enough for a normal wedding. At least he has some sense in him, not fucking you in front of the priest. Konig drags you to the bedroom in the dumb white dress that he brought specifically for you - it's drenched in blood already since the basement isn't the cleanest place in the house, but he doesn't care. You look good in red. Too good, maybe. Good enough that Konig forces you to get on your back and kneads your ass before lapping at your cunt like a mad dog. He waited for this too long - a few weeks already, when he still thought your resolve could be broken easily. He's glad he waited - the sight of you trembling and crying under him is beyond divine. He wants you, he needs you, and he is so glad he can finally sink into your pussy, feeling your innocence slowly shattering under him. You can cry all you want, maybe loud enough for the priest in the basement to hear - but you can't escape him. Soon he will make you cry and squirm on his cock, moaning from pleasure - and soon you will beg for him to do his husband duties every night, while he is not busy with his other victims.
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 days
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drunk in love
in which fem!reader gets extra affectionate with spencer when she's drunk and he's just happy to be there
fluff! warnings/tags: drunk!reader, tooth-rottingly sweet fluff, spencer loves you so bad, short n sweet, that's it a/n: this is for the person who requested spencer taking care of drunk!reader and they're just being really cute and kissy and i lost your request i'm sorry but i hope you see this!! if you guys like this pls let me know, i have spencer helping drunk!r with a bath locked and loaded and its also so cute oh my god i love him goodnight
“Spence,” you say, voice pretty and airy as a song, pressing butterfly-light kisses with soft lips all over the side of his face. 
“What?” he asks fondly, fighting to keep his grip on you secure as you keep trying to fall down and bring him with you. This bar isn’t necessarily a dive, but he’s sure the floor is still sticky and he’s not interested in checking. 
“I really love you so much. I love you so much more than anyone else has ever loved anyone before.” It’s the fourth or fifth time you’ve told him you love him so much in ten minutes, but it doesn’t feel any less wonderful to hear. “Say it back!” you pout, settling against his chest. 
“You didn’t give me time to say it back,” he explains patiently, looking down at you and brushing hair behind your ear. “I love you so much, too, baby.”
Suddenly you’re too flustered and shy to make eye contact. 
“Call me that again.”
Spencer’s brow furrows. His smile flickers wider. 
“What? Baby?” You nod into his chest. He smooths your hair. “I call you baby all the time.”
“Because you love me?”
“Because I love you,” he agrees solemnly. 
You squeak, covering your face with your hands. Not for the first time tonight, he wonder what exactly was in those drinks Penelope kept ordering for you.
“Kiss?”
He gently grabs your wrists. 
“You have to show me that pretty face if you want a kiss.”
Your hands slide down your cheeks and you tilt your head up. Now that your face is on display, pretty and shiny in the low lighting, Spencer ducks down and kisses you sweetly, one hand on the back of your head, the other pulling your wrists down and out of the way. He makes sure to not let it go on for too long. There are still plenty of people around, but more saliently, you are quite drunk. 
“Good?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your cheek as he pulls away.
“Can we kiss forever?”
“We can try,” he muses. 
“I love you,” you say again, plainly. “I wish there was a word stronger than love. I feel like I’ve said love so much it’s lost all its meaning.”
“Keep saying it,” he encourages. “I like hearing it.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper. Spencer leans down for you to cup your hand to his ear clandestinely. Sweet vanilla perfume still clings to your warm skin, lingering on your neck, mixing with the smell of fruity cocktails on your breath and making him dizzy. “I think JJ has a crush on you.”
He chuckles, straightening. Grieving the loss of your scent for just a second in the back of his mind—until you’re pressing against him anxiously, and it returns. 
“JJ is married, babe. I don’t think so.”
You pout. 
“No, but I really think she does! It makes me sad!”
Spencer doesn’t believe it for a second, but he knows hard logic and persuasion aren’t really going to do much for you right now. So he loops an arm around your waist and reigns you in. 
“You don’t need to be sad, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter who has a crush on me because I have a crush on you.”
“Just me?” you ask anxiously. 
“Just you. You’re the prettiest girl in the world. I have a huge crush on you.”
He realizes his voice has taken on that saccharine quality that Derek would give him shit for, and it’s probably visible in his eyes as he leans close to you, but he doesn’t care at all. 
You raise your chin, wordlessly asking for another kiss. He delivers. The fabric of his shirt tugs where you grab onto it, attempting to bring him closer even when he draws away from the kiss. Of course he allows it, narrowly avoiding stepping on your toes as you pull him to you like a dog on a leash. 
“Can we go home? I wanna cuddle.”
Oh, yeah. If Derek were present he’d have the most ridiculous, shit-eating grin on his face right now. Luckily he’s not here right now, and even if he were, Spencer would still brush your hair aside and say, absolutely we can go home and cuddle. 
“Of course we can. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone?”
“Mm… can we Irish goodbye?”
He chuckles. 
“I think you should say thank you to Penelope for buying you all of those ridiculous drinks that are making you so nice.”
You make a face. 
“I’m always nice.”
“You’re not always this nice,” he reminds you with a small smile, resting his hands on your waist. You frown. 
“In my head I am.”
He kisses your head. It’s impossible not to. 
“I know. Come on, let’s say bye. I want to go home too.”
“You think I’m not usually nice?”
“Of course I don’t think that. I think you’re so nice.”
“Oh my god, can we get ice cream?” You gasp, already distracted and pulling him along by the hand as you weave through the sparse crowd. 
He smiles to himself, happy to follow your lead as long as you don’t let go. 
“We can definitely get ice cream. We can do whatever you want.”
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of-many-fandomss · 2 days
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Three times Charles or Max pined for you and the one time they finally did something about it?
Puppy
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Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
Warnings: slight cursing
A/N: please don’t judge this, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve written anything
Word count: 1.4k
・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.
“Charles? Mr. Leclerc?”
It wasn’t the voice that roused the driver from being trapped in a loop of thoughts within his own mind, it was the gentle but firm nudge against his arm.
His head snapped to the side, his eyebrows up and eyes slightly wide, “Huh?” He breathed out in confusion.
Carlos smirked a bit at his frazzled teammate, “They’re talking to you.”
Charles’s gaze finally floated to the ground below the stage he was sitting upon, where people were sitting in a line, looking up at him expectantly.
He shook his head slightly, lifting his microphone off of his lap and lifting it to his lips, “Sorry, what was that?”
The man that had been asking the question for the press conference looked slightly annoyed, but repeated his question anyway.
Leclerc gave a short answer before his gaze drifted back to the place it had previously been resting, to the person standing in the very back in the crowd, somehow in the middle of a light that made it very easy for his eyes to lock onto.
You, however, were not returning his gaze. Your head was down as you furiously typed away at your tablet, eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration and as oblivious to the piece of hair that had fallen in front of your face as you were of the formula one driver's stare.
“You’re staring again, mate.” Carlos’s voice floated into his ear in a low murmur as he directed his microphone away from him so as to not pick up on their quiet conversation as the crowd continued without paying them any mind.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was a pathetic lie, and they both knew it. Especially since he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes off of you long enough to even look at Sainz.
A chuckle escaped the man’s lips and he snickered, “Like a little lost puppy,” He mused.
That was able to finally bring Charles’s eyes away from you and to his teammate, blue orbs narrowing slightly, “Shut it,” Annoyance sat in his tone, though he didn’t bother even trying to deny anything.
Without even looking at you, it was as if the man could sense your movement and turned back to you just in time for you to look up from your device, your eyes locking with his.
“Smile,” You mouthed, knowing very well as his pr that any bad media pictures would not be fun to clean up in the morning.
He did so without hesitation, allowing his face to soften so he didn’t look as stoic as he had when he was addressing Carlos.
You smiled at him in gratitude before returning your gaze to the work you had been previously doing.
“Puppy dog,” This time, when Carlos whispered in a sing-song voice, Charles only allowed his smile to widen.
・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.
“Here,” Charles’s voice was a soft murmur as he all but materialized beside you.
You glanced to his face then to the flute of champagne in his outstretched hand and took it eagerly, imminently taking a generous sip, “Was it that obvious that I needed it?”
He smiled softly, eyes trained on you as you scanned the crowded room of the charity event that the company had all of the current formula one drivers at currently, “I could sense it.”
It wasn’t any secret that this was one of the most important- and therefore stressful- nights of the season so far for you. Not only were you responsible for making sure that Leclerc looked good in the eyes of the public, but your bosses had enlisted in your help with doing the same for all of the other nineteen drivers.
Apparently you had done such an excellent job with Charles that they wanted to place you in charge of this night. You were never one to turn down new opportunities, no matter how much stress you knew it would bring.
Charles, bless him, had remained by your side for almost the entirety of the night so far, remaining like an anchor to your sanity.
From replacing Lando’s drinks with water to having to pull Daniel away from jumping onto a table, the man had helped you with every task without question nor complaint.
“You’ve been such a big help tonight,” You met the drivers gaze, your eyes wide and full of complete gratitude, “Thank you so much for all of this.”
He waved you off, “I don’t mind,” He told you honestly.
A sigh left your lips, “But you should be enjoying yourself-“
“I am.” Charles insisted earnestly, “This is fun.”
You laughed, “Fun?”
“Fun.” He echoed, subconsciously, moving a strand of hair that had fallen into your face without even thinking about it.
Your smile softened as you looked up at him, something flickering in his eyes so fast that you almost missed it. What it was, you didn’t know.
“Thank you,” You spoke again, your voice soft and full of emotion.
Charles just smiled, never once tearing his eyes away from your face.
・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.
“What’s all of this?” Your lips were parted as you spun in place to look around the room, eyes wide.
“Happy birthday!” Carlos cheered excitedly, bounding across the room full of the Ferrari team until he was right in front of you, sweeping you up into his arms in a bone crushing embrace.
“You did all of this?” You gawked up at him when he finally set you down.
“I helped,” He admitted before a large, cheesy grin overtook his features and he waggled his eyebrows up and down, “You’ll never guess who set this all up, though.” His voice was light and teasing.
Your heart swelled in your chest, “Charles,”
As if summoned by the sound of his name falling softly off of your lips, he appeared from within the crowd of red and yellow, joy alight on his features.
“Happy birthday,” He whispered softly as he came to stand by your side, ignoring the smirk Carlos sent him as he slipped away, giving you two some privacy.
The beam that he was met with was as bright as the sun, “Thank you, for all of this. Seriously.”
“There’s no need to thank me.” He smiled, “You do so much for me, this is the least I can do.”
Without thinking much of it, you pushed yourself onto your toes and left a lingering kiss on the man’s cheek, not even noticing his face go red nor his eyes go wide.
“Well, thank you anyway.” You spoke softly when you lowered yourself back to the ground.
“Who wants cake?” Landos voice boomed through the small room, interrupting Charles right as he opened his mouth to say something.
You joined everyone else in your cheers of response, excitedly taking Leclerc's hand in yours and pulling him towards the dessert table.
・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.
“I’m so proud of you,” You lolled your head to the side as you spoke, voice full of nothing but complete confidence and honesty.
Charles shook his head softly from the cushions beside you, “I didn’t get pole position.” Defeat crept into his tone.
“No,” You admitted, “But you got p2. Which is pretty damn close.”
“I-“ He opens his mouth to argue more.
You cut him off by firmly grabbing his hand in your own, angling your body to face him, “None of that.” You spoke strictly, catching onto his gaze being locked in your intertwined hands, “You raced amazing and did the absolute best you could.” You squeezed his hand, “I’m proud of you.”
His eyes flickered up to yours, staring into them for a moment as the briefest look of hesitation overcame his features.
Before you could even begin to question it, however, the man seemed to take a quick breath to muster confidence, before leaning in and connecting his lips with yours.
Your eyes widened briefly- for no more than a split second- and just as he went to pull away, you dove forward, capturing his lips in yours once more.
Before the kiss could deepen too much, you both pulled away slightly to catch your breaths, “I’ve been waiting a very long time to do that.” Charles admitted breathlessly.
You grinned up at him in response, “I’m glad you finally did it.”
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pathologicalreid · 1 day
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gemini | S.R.
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two emotionally wrought people collide at a wedding, and a sexual escapade ensues.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, use of the term "good girl" (i couldn't help myself), unprotected sex, reader on bc, alcohol, spoilers for 14x15 truth or dare, lowkey idiots in love, fucking against a wall?, fingering, heavy petting, r has an oral fixation, r is wearing a dress and makeup, explicit consent (hot), public sex, i think that's all word count: 3.42k a/n: this is a little self-indulgent and i don't care! based on literally just the first line of the song gemini by del water gap. probably not ever gonna get a part two. i've never done angsty smut (smangst?) before, so this was fun.
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so, here's the setting, we met fucked up at a wedding
Swirling the drink you held in your hand, you watched your friends as they chatted. The pink liquid in the cup, concocted by Penelope Garcia, was far too sweet for your taste, but you needed the liquid courage to make it through the wedding.
It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for Krystall and Dave. It was that weddings oftentimes left a bitter taste in your mouth – one so bitter that not even Penelope’s drink could offset it.
In your periphery, you saw a blur of purple in the corner, looking up to see Spencer. His hand still bandaged from his most recent brush with death, he used his free one to grip a glass of water. Raising your eyebrows, you gave him your best attempt at a smile before you greeted him, “You look good, Dr. Reid.”
He was fully donned in his favorite color, and you tried to pretend that you didn’t notice that your dress matched the purple hue of his suit. “Thanks,” he said shortly, not quite meeting your eyes.
Noting the way he was looking past you, you demurely leaned your head down, glancing over your shoulder so that you could see what he was looking at, only to see JJ. She looked gorgeous in her red dress, laughing at something her husband said before her eyes caught something.
She was staring back at Spencer, and not for the first time, you found yourself wondering what happened in that pawn shop. Bringing your eyes back up to Reid, you watched the confused look in his eyes bloom as he peeled his eyes away from JJ.
Sick of it, you spoke up, “Alright, I had dibs on being the mopey one tonight. What’s wrong?” You had wanted to brush it off as long-lasting nerves from the hostage situation, but he was acting strange.
You knew you weren’t his best friend, that was a title that JJ had been the reigning champion of since the beginning of time. Yet, you still noticed the rigidity in Spencer’s shoulders as he displayed a clear discomfort with his surroundings. You tried to think of something to say to him. How could you ask him if he wanted to get out of here without it sounding like a sexual proposition?
“JJ told me she loved me,” he said, his voice so low you weren’t even sure you had heard him correctly.
Your head snapped up, “Oh.” Swallowing thickly, you tilted your head curiously, letting loose hair tumble to the side. “Do you love her?” Likely not the right conversation for the wedding of everyone’s favorite right-person-wrong-time couple, but you were desperate for a rope to pull yourself out of your wallowing.
He took a sip of his water before setting the empty glass on the bar counter, “I did.” The admission hit you like a ton of bricks, until her continued, “but now…”
Filling in the blanks, you shrugged, “She’s married. They have kids.” Spencer was always doing the right thing, so pushing his feelings aside for the sake of JJ’s family made the most sense.
Furrowing his brows, he pondered this for a moment before speaking, “It’s not just that. I have feelings for someone else.”
“Oh,” you repeated, and somehow the thought of him being in love with an unfamiliar figure hurt more than him being in love with your mutual friend.
The both of you let the conversation lag, watching as Penelope came back up to the bar and poured more drinks. After she accused you of being boring for not wanting another drink, everyone returned to the tables. “Have you dated anyone since him?”
You choked on your newly acquired water, cupping your hand underneath your jaw in an attempt to stop water from getting on your dress. “Uh, no. I’ve kind of sworn off dating ever since,” you replied, shaking your hand out and letting water droplets fall to the floor.
Sighing, you slouched in your seat, remembering that all you’d ever be was a jaded bride. Left by your fiancé on the day of your wedding, doomed to never love again. Until you met Spencer Reid.
“For everyone?” Spencer asked, and you cursed his natural curiosity.
His question caught you off guard. Despite yourself, you shook your head, “I have like… one person who, if they asked me, I’d say yes.” Your skin started to feel warm, and you weren’t sure if it was your proximity to him or Penelope’s drink coming back with a vengeance.
Spencer stepped a little closer to you, leaning casually on the counter as if he wasn’t affecting your ability to focus. “Who’s your person?” The question was innocent enough that it made your heart ache.
“It doesn’t matter, he’s into someone else,” you told him, reaching behind your neck to pull your hair up, haphazardly twisting it. You didn’t have a hair tie, so you let the locks fall once you felt some semblance of relief.
This statement seemingly bothered Spencer because he looked into his glass, “Did he tell you that?”
Nodding, you chewed on the inside of your lip. “Yeah,” maybe not in so many words, Spencer was rarely crass enough to say he was into someone, but you understood well enough.
The conversation lagged between the two of you once again, your own private thoughts were only interrupted when the music changed. It was a slow song, one for the couples of the night to dance to.
You took a chance, “Do you want to go explore the building with me? It’s getting stuffy in here,” you said, taking one final swig of your water before jumping up from your stool.
He looked back at JJ, who was there with Will, and then forward to the girl who was asking to take him away, “Yes.”
David Rossi had spared no expense for his second wedding to his third wife, and the manor that you found yourself meandering within felt never-ending. Something about following Spencer as he led the way and told you facts about the history of the building felt so normal, and you wondered if it would hurt when the night was over. Maybe this would just end as another memory to loathe about weddings.
Trailing him into another room, you stumbled into his back. Quickly, Spencer spun back and caught you before you could fall to the ground.
Steadying yourself, your heart thrummed at the way he was touching you, tightly holding your waist so that you wouldn’t trip. Once you were no longer wobbling, Spencer reached up and gingerly lifted the fallen spaghetti strap of your dress back over your shoulder. Before you had fully thought out your actions, you leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him.
It was hesitant and gentle, but once you registered that you were kissing him you soon realized that he was kissing you back. What started out as a small peck on the lips quickly morphed into full, open-mouthed kisses.
You thought Spencer might eat you alive, and for a moment, you thought you might let him.
Without separating your lips, he herded you over to the wall, pinning your hips to the wall as you felt heat grow between your legs.
Pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth, Spencer pulled away ever so slightly, your faces just inches apart. “Is this okay?” He asked you, his eyes flickering down to your lips like he was holding himself back from kissing you again.
There was fear. A fear that if you moved forward tonight, nothing would ever be the same, but you took a chance  and nodded quickly, “Yes.”
Your answer acted as a release as Spencer dropped his head back down and the two of you reattached your lips. Despite your attempts to ignore it, you felt his hardened length pressing into you through several layers of clothes.
Twisting your head away, you gasped as Spencer took the opportunity to place his lips on your neck, gently suckling on the tender skin as you tried to catch your breath. “Are you sure about this?” You breathed, running your hands underneath his suit jacket, wanting nothing more than to push it off of him.
“Yes,” he answered, giving you the same consent that you had already given him, and it was enough for you to reach for his belt buckle. No matter how badly you wanted to see him entirely bare in front of you, this just wasn’t the place for it.
Gently, you slid your hand down his front, savoring the way his breath hitched against your neck as your fingertips precariously lifted the waistband of his boxers. He gently nipped at your earlobe as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock.
You let your head fall backward, allowing him better access to your neck as you moved your hand. Moving your hand up so that you could swipe your thumb over the tip.
You dragged your other hand down, pulling his boxers down so that you could get a good look at what you were working with, and biting your lip at the sight of it. Slowly, you started to pump his impressive length, noting how his breathing patterns changed with your movements.
Dragging a knuckle up the underside of him, he dropped his head to your shoulder as you collected his pre-cum on your index finger on your way up, bringing your hand up to your mouth and licking the droplet off, peering up at him.
“You’re so good at that, baby,” he told you, sighing as he reached up and placed his hand on the side of your neck, skimming his thumb over your jawline as his free hand started to make its way up your dress, pausing when he only met bare skin. “No underwear?” He questioned, furrowing his brow at you as you bit your lip, trying to refrain from pressing into his hand.
Whimpering almost indiscriminately, you shook your head, “Couldn’t, panty lines would show under the dress.”
Spencer hummed in recognition, moving his hand up to cup your sex so that you could feel your own wetness on his hand. A pathetic whine escaped your throat as your walls clenched with need, still stopping yourself from grinding on his hand. “What do you need?” He asked, a teasing lilt in his voice, “Come on, you can tell me.”
“You, please,” you answered, your voice dangerously bordering on pleading. “Your hands, anything,” you squeaked out, breathing heavily as you awaited his next move.
Gently, he slipped a finger inside your wet hole, causing you to release a satisfied sigh. “You’re so wet,” he whispered in your ear as you tilted your head back and pressed your lips to his.
As his hand picked up in pace, so did your breathing. With each movement of his hand, you struggled to keep your volume at a respectable level, small whimpers continued escaping you even as you bit down on the inside of your lip. “Spence,” you whined, moaning aloud as he slipped a second finger into you, “Oh, god.”
The silence of the room around you only exacerbated the wet sounds that were emanating from your sex, and if it didn’t feel so good, you might’ve been embarrassed. In fact, as you felt a familiar coil winding in your abdomen, you found that you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure.
Crying out, you nodded as Spencer continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck,” you said, caring less about your volume levels. Even less so when he responded by pressing the heel of his hand against your clit, the pressure proving to be enough to send you over the edge.
“It’s okay,” Spencer whispered in your ear, “Let it go for me, baby.” His words continued as you felt your walls spasming around his fingers, his ministrations had slowed, but he worked you through your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers and lifting them up to your mouth.
Accepting the invitation, you leaned forward and sucked the sweet juices off of his hand, slipping your tongue between his two fingers as you looked up at him. You half expected him to be watching you with lust-blown eyes, but he was watching you just as attentively as he had when you started this escapade.
He retrieved his fingers from your mouth with a satisfying pop and reached down to ruche the fabric of your dress up around your waist. “Wait,” he said suddenly, gripping the silky cloth, “I don’t have a condom.”
Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I don’t mind.” Still breathing heavy from your previous orgasm, you shook your head again, “I mean. I’m on birth control – and I’m good at it. I mean I keep up with it.” Now babbling, you hoped he’d say something. “I’m clean. I trust you.”
Nodding in understanding, he placed a hand on the side of your neck and looked at you intently. “I’m not going to do anything until you catch your breath,” he told you, taking up an authoritative tone.
Blinking rapidly, you evened out your breathing as he ran his hand up and down your torso, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking another deep breath as you looked up at him.
Spencer shook his head, “Don’t be sorry.” He leaned his head down, pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck as you finally pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, leaning down to grip the backs of your thighs.
“It’s okay if you can’t lift me,” you rambled quickly, getting his attention as you aired your concern.
He raised his eyebrows expectantly, pressing his hips into yours and lifting your feet off of the ground. The leverage that he had, along with the support of the wall behind him, allowed him to get both of your feet off of the ground. You would’ve spent more time being impressed by this feat if you weren’t so distracted by his painfully hard cock that had now slipped between your folds.
Leaning down, you desperately kissed his lips, wanting him to give you those open-mouthed kisses that you had started out with. Instead, you cried out when, without warning, his full length slipped into you.
Placing gentle kisses on your collarbone, Spencer murmured, “Are you okay?” He whispered, seeming like he was using all of his self-control to just stay still.
You nodded, feeling his cock throbbing so deep in you that you were almost afraid you’d come from just that pressure alone. “Been a while,” you murmured, taking a deep, shaky breath.
He hummed in understanding, “I’ve got you, take your time.”
His words filled your stomach with butterflies, and it wasn’t just because he was fully sheathed in you. “Spence,” you whimpered, “Move.”
On your cue, Spencer gave a tentative thrust, permitting your resulting moan to mix with his grunt. “Fuck, baby,” he said, continuing to thrust in and out of your cunt, filling the room with the crude squelching of your actions. “I’m not going to last long,” he informed you.
Throwing your head back in ecstasy, you moaned helplessly when Spencer dropped one of your legs to the ground, hooking his arm underneath your other knee, providing a new, deeper angle. You swore as the sensations started to feel overwhelming.
The new angle gave him more control over his movements, enabling him to use his free hand to pull at your breast through the fabric of your dress. As you tugged gently at his hair, you tilted your head back, “Spence, I- shit,” you cursed, recognizing the tell-tale signs of your second orgasm approaching.
If it weren’t for his words of encouragement, you would’ve been embarrassed by coming too quickly, and if anything, the words only spurred you closer to the finish line. “Come for me,” he said, thrusting harder into you as he tried to reach the same point. “Let me know how good I make you feel,” he said, continuing his thrusts until his hips stuttered.
“Coming,” you whimpered, dropping your head forward onto his shoulder as you felt your walls tightening around his hard length. Crying out as he continued to pound into you, you buried your face into his neck and nipped at the skin to muffle your sounds.
Now he was solely working toward his own orgasm, having given you two of your own. “You’re such a good girl,” he panted.
Suckling gently at the skin on his neck – not hard enough to leave a mark, you littered kisses on his sensitive skin. “Come in me, baby,” you murmured, trying to spur him on.
Your success was apparent as his movements faltered and his cock started throbbing, feeling the pulses of his cum as it filled you, your eyes rolled back at the feeling while Spencer slowed to a halt, waiting for a beat before he pulled out of you entirely.
Shuddering at the emptiness you now felt, you leaned against the wall once both of your feet were on the ground. As your legs trembled, you watched as Spencer crouched to fish something out of his jacket, leaving you with your mixture of fluids running down your legs.
As he grabbed the handkerchief from his breast pocket, you gasped slightly as you realized his intentions. “Spence, you’ll ruin it,” you insisted.
“Would you rather go back out there with my cum dripping down your thighs?” He asked, knelt in front of you with his brows raised in mock innocence.
Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “Jesus.”
He chuckled, using the handkerchief to wipe up the mess the two of you had made on your legs before carelessly tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Noting the way your legs were still shaking, he lifted your chin ever so slightly, “Are you alright?”
Nodding, you offered him a tired, but genuine smile. “I’m great,” you told him, wiping underneath your eyes where you were sure there was a mess of mascara.
Taking your hand in his, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, Spencer led to toward the French doors that led to the balcony, taking you out into the fresh air.
As you leaned up against the railing, Spencer shook out his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, doing his best to keep you comfortable. “Hey,” you whispered, “I really am fine. Are you? How’s your hand?” In all of the hormones, you had forgotten about his injury.
Spencer nodded, looking over the property that Rossi had rented. “I’m good, Y/N. I feel good.” You wished he’d call you baby again, but maybe that was too much to ask for. His eyebrows furrowed.
“What are you thinking about?” You asked him, recognizing the look from years of working together.
He hummed, reaching up and sweeping a strand of hair off of your forehead. “That guy? The one who told you he’s into someone else? I can confidently say he’s an idiot.”
Flushing, you smiled to yourself at the fact that Spencer was calling himself an idiot, especially when he was anything but. Shrugging, you waved him off anyway, “Nobody’s perfect, Spence.”
“No, I suppose not, but even so…” he told you, allowing his voice to trail off like he wasn’t totally sure what he wanted to say to you. “If he can’t see what’s right in front of him, then maybe you need to turn your attention elsewhere.”
Sighing, you leaned your chin in your hand, “Thanks, but I don’t know. Maybe there is better out there, and I’m just not worth it.” No, after tonight, you’d likely never get over him. It might’ve started as a workplace crush, but you felt in your heart that it was now something deeper.
Spencer shook his head, “Now, that’s where we disagree.”
“Spencer, I can’t-“ Your voice is cut off when you hear someone calling your name from inside the building, smoothing out the front of your dress one more time, you step back into the room, coming face to face with JJ.
She smiles in recognition of you, but the grin immediately fades from her face when Spencer walks out behind you, “Hey, we’ve been looking for you guys,” she said flatly. “They’re about to cut the cake.”
Nodding, you took another quick look at Spencer before following the blonde out of the room, leaving your secret in the room behind you.
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hysteria-things · 3 days
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DRUNK IN LOVE
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your boyfriend has never been so in love. he has to prove it to you somehow.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FILTHY, swearing, jealousy, oral (female receiving), spanking if you squint, overstimulation, dumbification, passing out
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 756
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: day FIVE (🤫) of nate week!
WE ARE SO BACK…
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genuinely, you don’t know how much more you can take, but god it feels so good. your legs are propped over nate’s shoulders, still shaking from your two previous orgasms.
juices coat his mouth and the sheets below, your fingertips massaging his hair. he hasn’t come up for air once, and it’s quite shocking to you.
your twitching lower half grinds into his face, chest heaving as you pant uncontrollably. your parents aren’t home, so you two need to take advantage of that.
the funny thing is, he’s not doing this because you guys got bored. he’s doing this because he saw you and this one kid talking at his lacrosse match… he didn’t like that.
the two of you are a well-known couple around school, so it didn’t take long for everyone to know you’re off limits. guess that one junior didn’t get the memo whatsoever.
before the other team gets to the school and while the stands slowly fill, they warm up as much as they can on the field. a glimpse of you catches nate’s eye, but you’re not alone.
nate stops in his tracks, staring intently at the way whoever that fucking kid is is talking to you. from where he is he can’t hear, but he can tell by the boy’s body language.
you’re too much of a people pleaser to notice, but your boyfriend can notice from a mile away that he’s flirting with you. his hand touches your shoulder while you’re laughing at something he said.
eyes like daggers, nate breathes heavily from anger the more he watches this go down. “nate, man, you good?” one of his teammates asks, jogging in front of him to block his view.
“yeah. i’m fine.”
it’s just the fact that he loves you so much he can’t help himself as he worships your pussy. his pussy, and he’s letting you know that it belongs to him and nobody else.
his tongue licks fast strands up your slit, high-pitched mewls leaving your mouth. “nate.” you sob, hot tears trickling down your face. “nathan.” you repeat, gripping tighter onto his brown locks and arching your back.
usually, he would praise you, but he’s so pussy drunk that he can’t pull away. your mind isn’t the only thing that’s not thinking straight. his isn’t either.
other than your cries and moans, the squelching noises your pussy makes are his favorite sound. he hums hungrily into your cunt, and you exhale when your third release of the night paints his lips that have to be swollen by now.
the view at nate’s eye level is fucking filthy. your poor comforter is drenched, practically ruined at this point. the inside of your thighs glistening with your folds fluttering the rest of your orgasm out onto his chin. this isn’t enough. he needs more.
his muscle enters your sopping hole, all red and used from continuous stimulation. gasping, you close your legs tight around his head and keep them there. this hits a new angle, making him dig deeper… and deeper.
you’re wrecked at this point, absolutely helpless and out of control. “stop it.” you whimper, breathing through your sobs.
with that, his hands grip your calves and spread your legs wider than they were before. “s-stop.” you cry out again.
you desperately try to push his head away, but of course, he doesn’t listen. in fact, he pulls you closer to the point where his nose grazes you clit with each stroke and slaps the outside of your thigh.
screaming, you accept your fate and lay there. he’s eating as if he’s never eaten a meal in his life. your whole body loosens, brain dead, and laying there to take it like you were supposed to do. your lower half is so numb that you don’t feel the other orgasm rip through you.
this time, he takes his lips and sucks at your pussy along with your clit. poor you, so useless and crying with your eyes crossed and tongue sticking out. then, your vision goes black; the rest of you becoming limp.
he kisses your puffy cunt before slowly stopping to catch his breath. a string of saliva mixed with your cum connects from his lips before he breaks it by pulling away.
getting up, he wipes his mouth and makes his way to where your face is. he rubs the tears from your cheeks and kisses the corner of your lips softly, whining before he thrusts into the mattress while cumming in his sweats. again.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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redtsundere-writes · 22 hours
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sukuna and servant!reader is so good!! looking forward to rescue more of them <33
Eyes On Me | Sukuna Ryomen
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king!sukuna ryomen x femservant!reader
Sypnosis: Uraume can't play chess with the king right now, you must step up. Contents: Obsession, pining, kinda fluffy, mentions of blood and body parts. Uraume uses they/them pronouns. Word Count: 2404 words. Author's Note: I love writing this ship. People have been asking me to make this a series. I'll try my best lol I think you can still read them individually, but there's a preferred order.
Beginning. ← Previous |
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Sukuna hates humans. It's a fact of life. The sky is blue, roses are red and Sukuna hates the disgusting creatures that humans are. He has so many reasons to hate them that he doesn't even know where to begin. Humans are annoying, weak, clumsy, but most of all, stupid. They make decisions without thinking through the consequences. They prefer to spend their money on temporary pleasures and end up bankrupt by not prioritizing their survival. They worry about unimportant things such as social status, religion, and traditions. Sukuna hates humans, but boy, are they entertaining. 
Sukuna tends to study his servants very carefully. Even though they only clean, cook and obey his orders to a tee, it was fun to watch them interact with each other. He finds it fascinating how the servants gossip in whispers, how the gardeners concentrate to prune the bushes well despite their hands shaking, or how the cooks taste the food several times so that it’s up to their majesty's standards. It was like watching dozens of filthy lab rats in the middle of a social experiment. Although… There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what they were doing. 
You had finished all the chores for the day and decided to help the cooks prepare dinner because you had nothing better to do. Your muscles were exhausted from having spent all morning cleaning the porcelain sculptures, the large frames of the paintings in the great hall, and the king's jewelry so they could sparkle in all their glory. You had been assigned the task of peeling potatoes, so there you were. Sitting at a table with a small knife, peeling potatoes while listening to the chaos going on in the kitchen. Uraume was busy preparing a special passion fruit tea for the king. The special coming from the water that was inked with human blood. Sometimes you wondered if Uraume had always agreed to cook with humans or was it something they got used to because of Sukuna's orders, but since they never talked about themselves, you never asked. 
“Fuck!” A cook yelled when the frying pan caught fire. 
Your eyes widened at the flashy flare. Uraume put the tea set aside to attend to the emergency. With some ice from their magic hands, they put out the fire in a jiffy, but left the kitchen a mess. They began to berate the cook with smacks in the head and curses for his ineptitude. The cook just apologized over and over again, but that wasn't enough for the head chef. 
“You!” Uraume called. You put your task aside to attend to their orders. “Take the tea to our king and tell him I will be with him when I settle this situation.” You nodded and took the tray carefully to go in search of him. 
After Sukuna gave you permission, you entered the library with the golden tray in your hands. The library was the coziest room in the entire castle. Its high walls were covered with huge bookcases filled with books, maps, and scrolls. There were long desks of works and hundreds of candleholders everywhere to enjoy reading during the evenings. He was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the game table, a small wooden table with a chessboard on top. The king was surprised to see you there despite having specified Uraume's presence. 
“I didn't ask you to come,” Sukuna said chidingly as you served him tea at a small table next to him. 
“Uraume had to attend to an emergency in the kitchen. They'll be here once everything is under control,” you replied as you set down the fragile cup of blood tea, adorned with small pieces of eyeball floating on the red surface to give it texture. 
Your gaze traveled to the chessboard, it had been a long time since you had seen the king playing. You knew from the other servants that he was a good player and only plays with Uraume or some brave guest. This was no ordinary board. You could see that each piece was handmade and had luxurious detail. The pieces were made of white quartz, the eyes of the horses were rubies and the crowns of the kings were made of jade. It was the most beautiful board game you ever saw. 
“Do you know how to play?” Sukuna asked out of curiosity. 
Being a servant, you surely had not received the same education as he did. Well, almost no one was on his level when it came to education. Sukuna was a master mathematician, a skilled debater and could threaten his enemies in 5 different languages. You hadn't been as lucky. You're good at cleaning, cooking and taking orders, but what else can you do? 
“Yes,” you answered with a smile. 
That answer surprised him quite a bit. Although chess was a game that was rapidly gaining popularity among the middle class, it was not a game for women. It was a game that required intellect, always thinking two moves ahead and knowing how to read your opponent. You didn't look like a girl who could do all that. 
“Sit down,” Sukuna ordered you. 
“I warn you that it may be a short game. It's been a long time since I've played,” you warned him as you sat down. 
Sukuna watched you with great attention. Your eyes scanned the board as if it was the first time you had ever seen one, your hands rested gently on your thighs and you smiled nervously. You may have known the rules of the game, but you didn't know how to play. The king took your word for it. 
“Ladies first,” he asked you to start.
“My pleasure,” you said as your dominant hand moved over the pieces to decide what your first move would be. 
Your father had taught you how to play. He always wanted a son to inherit the family business, but your mother only kept giving birth to women, so he had to resign himself to you. Your mother taught you how to be a lady so you could get married as soon as possible and your father taught you about the business so that your future husband wouldn’t take advantage of the family money. You used to sit in front of the wooden board and talk for hours after dinner. Your father may not have been the wisest or the most astute man, but he had left you a very important lesson: Always look people in the eye to know their true intentions. 
This was one of the few times you came face to face with Sukuna. Because of his title as king and the great difference in height, you were always beneath him, physically and psychologically speaking. You were a simple human, while he was a king with the power to get rid of whomever he wanted with a simple movement of his fingers. Although his presence made you feel vulnerable, you didn't resent him. You had a relatively comfortable life serving him, but sometimes there was a need for you to show him that you were more than a servant. This was a good opportunity to do so. 
Sukuna's eyes were not on you, they were on the board. His gaze denoted boredom. He was waiting patiently for you to make the first move. If you waited a little longer, maybe he would yawn. He overestimated you, you had to use that feeling against him. You moved a pawn to the C4 square, a common move among beginners.
“Finally…” He said in a monotone voice before quickly moving the knight to the F6 square. 
Each of you took turns to move the pieces quietly as time went by. You took your time with each move, while the king only needed to look at the board from time to time to know what to do next. You could take all the time in the world, but he would still eat all your pieces. Even though it didn't seem to be an interesting game, you could at least keep up with him. Sukuna's queen advanced towards yours, standing face to face. One false move and your king was in trouble. 
“Check,” you said as the queen retreated two squares diagonally, leaving her free to begin the attack on the king. 
At that announcement, Sukuna woke up from the trance he was in to concentrate on what he was doing. He smiled with satisfaction as he noticed the change in your body. Your hands had relaxed, your back was straight, and your eyes were glued to his. You knew exactly what you were doing. You didn't need to tell him verbally that you would destroy him at his own game, your eyes told him clearly. It was as if you were dissecting his soul bit by bit until you left him completely naked.
Your hands were interleaved with each turn. You moved quickly as you realized that Sukuna had already noticed your active presence on the board. Sukuna returned the queen to his side. An interesting move. It was wise to know when to back away, but you noticed one thing in his eyes. He had no plan, he just acted based on his understanding of the game. He moved like in real life, using only his killer instincts. 
“Check,” you announced again by moving a knight up. 
“Not so fast,” Sukuna told you before taking the horse that was threatening his king using a queen. You smiled as you saw that his majesty had fallen into the trap. By moving his pieces like that, Sukuna had fully exposed his king. 
“Checkmate,” you announced the end of the game as soon as you moved the white queen close to the black king. And only then, the poor maid defeated the almighty king. 
“Well, well...” Sukuna sighed in awe as he looked at the board with extreme curiosity. He couldn't be mad at you. He had let his guard down. You were playing even before the game started. 
There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what you were doing. Sukuna would always hyper fixate on you whenever he noticed your presence around him. You could be cleaning, chatting with your companions or eating some dried fruit in the garden, and he would still only notice you as if nothing else in the world existed. You were the most interesting human he had ever seen. Sukuna tried to look for a logical reason for his obsession with you, but he couldn't do it. You looked like a simple being with clear goals, but he was sure you were hiding something behind your perfect facade. 
Someone knocked at the door. Sukuna sighed, he wanted to be alone with you longer, but now was not the time. Uraume entered the room and was surprised to see you sitting with his majesty. Something strange had been going on between the two of you for months. They had even debated the idea of asking the king directly about you, but hadn't worked up the courage to do so.  
“There was an inconvenience in the kitchen. Sorry to keep you waiting, your majesty,” Uraume bowed in apology. 
“Lucky for you, you sent a good replacement,” Sukuna said before smiling at you in satisfaction. 
Uraume instantly understood just by glancing at the board. You had beaten the king, something even they could not easily accomplish. They could tell that he was looking at you like no one else. It wasn't a look of disgust or boredom, it was a curious look. Like that of a child looking at a group of kids playing in the playground, wondering if he could come over to play with them. 
“If you'll excuse me, I have to go,” you said as you got up to give the seat to Uraume. “Good game. It was a pleasure to play against you, my king,” you bowed. 
“Good game,” Sukuna whispered so you could leave the room. 
Sukuna and Uraume started a new game as soon as you returned to the kitchen to peel potatoes. They quickly noticed that something was occupying her majesty's mind. Their white pieces were eating his black pieces easily and his moves were slow compared to previous games. Uraume could tell that the game against you had changed the way he played.
“What do you see in her?” Uraume asked him after a move. 
“Am I too obvious?” Sukuna asked them before getting up from his seat to start prowling around the library to clear his mind. “What do you think of her?” He asked her as he stopped in front of the window to admire the land. The large green lawn stretched all the way to the intimidating entrance of his wonderful castle. 
“She is a dedicated servant and a perfectionist. She does all the chores in a timely manner. She is as good a servant as any other. The real question is: What do you think of her?” Uraume asked as they watched him from their seat. 
“She has potential.” 
“Potential? Potential for what?” Uraume arched their eyebrow at the confusing statement. 
“She has the potential to become a queen,” Sukuna replied confidently. 
Sukuna Ryomen was known among the kingdoms for being an unorthodox king. Not only because he took kingdoms left and right as if it were nothing, but because he has a strange way of ruling his people. He did not care about social classes, behavioral labels or unwritten codes of human coexistence. Everyone was inferior to him regardless of gender, race, or religion. He was the god of this new world and everyone had to obey him, just like that. 
The fact that he wanted to have a queen went far beyond just following the established patterns of classical monarchy. Sukuna must have a reason why he wants to have a queen other than just because, but there was a more important question on the table. 
“Your majesty, you can get any woman you want. You can get a beautiful woman, with more training and presence, why would you settle for a servant?” Uraume asked in confusion. Sukuna smiled. It was a good question. 
“She has something much better than that,” he answered before continuing the game as if nothing happened. Uraume looked down to see that Sukuna had checkmated them.
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Author's Note: I poured my poor knowledge on chess for this lol I hope it makes sense.
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wosoamazing · 15 hours
Text
Newest Signing
Part 1 - Fire on Fire Series A/N: This is the first part of my new Leah Series, I have already started writing and planing parts of it but if you have any ideas let me know and I will try and include them.
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Leah sat on her phone scrolling through various social media platforms, it hurt to see so many other people happy, with their partners when she wasn't, she had never had a successful relationship, to her no one was right, no one was the right match, she didn't feel like they clicked. So many of her exes told her that she had 'too high standards' or that 'soulmates don't exist' or something along the lines of 'you aren't perfect so why do you expect someone else to be perfect'. However she wasn't looking for a soulmate, she wasn't looking for someone perfect, she was just looking for the someone who was perfect for her.
She had started to think that maybe she was just asking for too much, and that her standards were too high, but that was until the day Jonas introduced the team to Arsenal's newest signing.
"Girls this is Y/N Y/L/N, she is our newest signing, and yes she did sign outside of the transfer window as approved by the FA due to issues at her old club, but no further questions on that please. She isn't going to be fully joining training until our Portugal training camp, just so she has some time to settle in but also a well deserved break, but you will see her in the gym and around the place, so please make her feel welcome. I think she is going to be really great for the team."
Her eye's immediately connected with the brunettes, she was tall and muscular, her face held the dreamiest blue eyes, and her smile was perfect, she continued watching the girl as she hugged Stina, the way her hair flowed, her body flowed, it was safe to say Leah was mesmerised.
"Stop staring, you creep" McCabe whispered in Leah's ear, causing her to break from her trance, giving the Irish women a playful smack on the shoulder. "I'm going to the gym," she said as she stood up and headed out, everyone around her making eyes at each other.
_____
You walked into the locker room behind Jonas and as he introduced you to the team, a certain blonde's eyes connected with yours, you couldn't help but notice the small smile her lips created when she saw you, but you quickly diverted your gaze to your best friend. Walking up to her and hugging her.
"I'm glad they let you sign out of the transfer window," Stina said, sounding relieved as she released the hug, "yeah I was worried they wouldn't but once I explained to the FA what was happening they were horrified and told me they would reach out to whatever club I wanted to, within reason, and see if they would sign me. Apparently there are going to be investigations."
"Good, they shouldn't be doing that. But where are you staying? You can crash at mine until you find a place if you need."
"Thank you, but I'm all good, Moster and Tante said I could stay with them, as they are in Paris for the next however long, however it was more a non-negotiable, I think they also meant I was going to be staying when they came back, again non-negotiable, but I'll see."
You and Stina continued talking until it was time for the girls to go to their meeting. You had an appointment with one of the physios just so they could check your range of motion and get some base lines in case you were to injure yourself before your first fitness testing session. As you walked into the gym, you saw a certain blonde in the corner, working away at some exercises which must've been set for her. As you worked with the physio completing the activities and exercises he wanted you to do you couldn't help but notice the way the blonde kept glancing over to you, almost as if she wanted to talk to you.
_____
You sat down at a table with Stina and Frida, Caitlin joined you and wanted to catch up with you and also trying to help you integrate with the team more easily, Caitlin's presence meant that Katie and then consequently Beth sat with you too. You knew the Aussies already due to having spent most of your childhood and your very early twenties in Australia, due to your Tante's work.
"Steph," you called out as you saw the very flustered Aussie walk into the dinning hall, she turned her head around to you, just about every emotion passing through her face.
"Y/N?" she questioned as she walked towards you, "what are you doing here?"
"Well if you weren't late you would've been here when Jonas said I was transferring here," you weren't normally one to say anything about your teammates being late, especially new teammates, however you are Steph had been teammates a long time ago, making your senior team debut for Melbourne Victory exactly a year after she made hers, and she also had a mark on her neck, so you were waiting to see how bad her excuse was.
"Sorry yeah I slept in, Calvin was up barking most of the night. It's so nice to see you again though," she explained as she pulled you in for a hug.
"That mark of your neck would indicate otherwise," you whispered in her ear, she just groaned knowing everyone would've already seen it.
You spend the rest of the lunch talking to mainly Steph or Stina and Frida but occasionally others would make some small talk with you.
After lunch you said your goodbyes to the team, and started to make your way out, when you heard someone call out your name, you turned around to see Leah moving towards you. "Would you like to join me and some of the team for dinner tonight? We are just going to a local pub," she questioned.
"Umm," you filled the air as you hesitated not sure what the goal of her invitation was, "if you don't want to, that's totally okay, I mean you're probably busy anyway," she quickly spat out trying to backtrack.
"Oh no, I would love to, it's just that I don't currently have a car," you told her as you fiddled with the ring on your finger.
"Oh, I can drive you if you want, you can just message me your address later," you nodded and mumbled a quiet thanks before you both went your separate ways.
____
You were just about to put your shoes one when you received a message.
From Leah: I'm just out the front in the car, no rush though. I know I'm early.
To Leah: Hey, all good, I'm actually just putting my shoes on now, I'll be out in a second.
You're pretty sure Leah's eyes widened as you walked out of the house and to her car. You opened the door of her car and saw her eyes run over your body before she said "You look nice," "Oh, thank you, it's nothing," you blushed slightly climbing into the passenger seat, but in truth it was nothing. You had a pair of light blue skinny jeans on, with a cropped country road rugby jumper on. You also have a black puffer vest in case you needed it but you placed that on the floor as you got in.
"You look nice too," you said as an afterthought, almost regretting it instantly, it probably wouldn't been better to say nothing at all than say that.
"Thanks," she smiled at you softly before she began to drive.
---
It was safe to say by the end of the night you hadn't once regretted your decision to come, all the girls there were super nice and it was a really great way to get to know them all, outside of soccer.
"Um, we're about to head home and we just thought to offer to take you home, since, um," Beth gestured over to where Leah was a the bar, you couldn't help but feel a small wave of warmth travel through your body at the fact that the team already seemed to care about you.
"Oh um, yes please that would be great," you followed Beth and Viv to their car, making small talk with them on the way home, when the car pulled up outside your home you didn't miss the look the couple sent each other, you quickly hopped out and thanked the two women profusely, before walking up the stairs of your home and collapsing onto your couch, noticing a message from Stina.
From Stina: Hey, I hope the night out with the girls went well. What would you say to a movie night at yours tomorrow night? In the theatre?
To Stina: Hey yeah it went well, Beth and Viv took me home, will explain why tomorrow night at movie night in the lounge room, you can invite Frida if you want too.
From Stina: Okay. I'll be over around 5. From Stina: Wait, why the lounge room?
To Stina: See you then, I'll make pasta.
254 notes · View notes
pucked-bunnie · 3 days
Text
hands off ⎜m.barzal
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pairings: mat barzal x reader prompts: "can you please come get me?" + "Don't fucking touch what isn't yours." warnings: mentions of stalking? ⎜drunk people ⎜reader is uncomfy ⎜ word count: 1.4k note: I got a lot of request for Mat so I decided that these two go well together and ended up combining them. Requests are open!
(UNEDITED)
+
+
The party was supposed to be fun. 
It was supposed to be a good way for you to find new friends - to bond with some of the other wags. 
And sure the night started out fun. 
“I promise they’ll take good care of you, it’s just dinner and some drinks.” Mat had assured you as he watched you pull on your coat, the oversized denim jacket holding in any warmth it could manage, stopping the slight tremble of your limbs at the winter cold. 
Moving to New York had been a big adjustment, especially in the dead of winter. Mat had talked to some of his teammates, hoping to be able to set up a girls night with some of the wives and girlfriends on the team to help you adjust to being in a new city, to help you make some new friends to keep you company when he was away so often. All the girls were quick to agree, adding you to the team group chat to discuss the details. 
“I know, but it’s been so long since I’ve gone out and my sister warned me about the bars around here.” You respond as you glance up at him, pulling your lip between your teeth. 
You wanted him to comfort you. 
To give you a reason to cancel. 
Or to say he would come with you. 
Meeting new people was terrifying. 
“I swear it’ll be fine, just message me when you’re ready and I’ll come get you.” You nod slowly at his words, leaning up on your toes to press a soft kiss against his cheek, Mat giving you a big smile as he pushes you lightly towards the front door of the bar, leaning against the side of his car until the front door closes behind you. 
Mat was right. 
The night started out fun. 
But things changed so quickly. 
“Hey, you’ll be right to head home on your own right?” Anders asks, his wife draped against his side, a drunk smile on her face as he holds her steady with one arm around her waist. “Mat’s on his way?” He questions, you don’t really respond, just giving a tight smile. 
You had messaged Mat. 
You swear. 
Anders pats your shoulder softly, before dragging his wife out of the club, trying to avoid her incessant affections. You watch as they leave the constantly filling bar, the crowds of people getting louder, more boisterous as the night carries on. The others had been picked up earlier by their partners, each whisked off in a slightly tipsy haze. 
You had been left on delivered for the last thirty five minutes. 
And there was no sign of Mat responding anytime soon. 
“He’s probably fallen asleep.” You reassure yourself, you phone showing a time of eleven forty eight pm, way past Mat’s normal bedtime. 
Letting out a long sigh, you push away from the spot at the bar, grabbing your jacket off the back of your chair, slinging it over your shoulders, buttoning each button tightly before hefting your purse up on your shoulder. 
Your apartment wasn’t far away. 
The walk would have to be brisk with the cold seeping into your bones, but it was do-able. 
You smile softly as the door managers as you exit, crossing your arms over your chest with your phone tight in your hand as you start walking down the block. 
You can hear as they exit behind you. 
The four men bustling amongst each other. 
Each of them daring the other to close the gap. 
You type quickly on your phone, pressing the cold glass to your ear as the dial tone rings in your ear. 
You dare to glance back, the men pausing for a moment, discussing something between themselves. 
“Baby?” Mat’s voice is groggy, coughing a few times as he repeats, “Baby, are you there?” You catch yourself nodding in response - despite the fact that Mat can’t hear you - your free arm tight around you as you speed up a little more. 
“Can you please come get me?” You ask softly into the phone, you can hear the rusting of a blanket and the padding of Mat’s bare feet on your apartment floor as he moves around the rooms. 
“Where are you?” He asks quickly, “Are you safe?” 
“Like five minutes from the bar, I thought I could make it.” You continue, your body jumping as you hear the footsteps close in. 
“Hey, wait.” You hear a voice call out from behind you, the man's voice slurred slightly, his friends egging him on. 
“Who was that?” Mat asks, the jangling of his keys ringing through the phone. “Are you walking?” He asks again, his voice deeper, more gravely, the easiest to tell that he was angry. 
“You weren’t responding.” You justify, “It’s only a fifteen minute walk, I thought it would be fine.” You hear Mat let out a cuss, the words sounding far away. You can hear his fingers swiping on his screen before he swears again, the sound of a grunt a thump before his voice is close to your ear again. 
“I’m on my way - stay on the phone with me, okay?” You nod again, glancing once more over your shoulder the men are closing on you now. 
Mat’s breathing heavily into the phone, reminding you to keep walking. 
He’ll be there soon, he promises. 
The hand lands out your arm roughly, your body swung around to face them. 
“I asked you to wait.” The man groans, he couldn’t have been more than mid twenties, you wish he knew how scared you were right now. 
“My boyfriend is on his way to come get me. I’m not interested.” You speak confidently, you can hear the muffled sounds of Mat saying something into the phone, but you can’t make out the words, your arm dropping to your side as the man's friends stop around the two of you. 
“Let me go.” You say, firm in your words. 
“But you haven’t even heard me out yet.” The man whines, his tone similar to that of an upset child. “Please give me a chance.” He whines again, his hand still clamped on your arm. The man is clearly drunk, his friends goading him on. 
“I bet she’s lying.” One says. 
“She probably doesn’t even have a boyfriend.” The other adds. 
“Show her what she’s missing out on.” The last one says. 
The man in front of you pauses, his eyes flicking over your shoulder, heavy steps stopping behind you, the man’s hand loosening slowly. 
“Didn’t your mothers ever teach you boys manners?” Mats voice hisses from beside you, his hand reaching out to close around the drunk stranger's wrist, the man releasing you quickly. 
“Don’t fucking touch what isn’t yours.” Mat sneers, his body moving in front of your as he pushes the man away from the two of you. 
The men are smart. 
They retreat quickly, excuses falling from their mouths. 
“Sorry man.” One sighs. 
“Didn’t mean any harm.” The other adds. 
Mat glares at the back of them as they stumble back down the street to the bar, their attention finding some other people to focus on. 
“You ran all the way here?” You ask. 
“Yes.” Mat responds. 
“Are you mad at me?” You question quietly, Mat’s chest heaving, as he runs his fingers through his hair. 
“What?” He asks, spinning on the spot to face you, letting out a long sigh as he reaches for you, his arms wrapping around your head to pull you into his chest, his hands stroke your hair as he lets out another long breath. 
“I’m mad at myself.” He says quietly. “I told you I would come get you as soon as you messaged and I was an idiot and fell asleep.” 
“It’s okay.” You grumble into his chest, your words muffled by his thick hoodie. 
“I was so scared.” 
“So was I.” You agree, pulling your head away from his chest to look up at him, smiling as you pull yourself out of his arms, reaching to latch your hand in his as you pull him to start walking besides you. 
“I can’t believe you ran all the way to help me.” You chuckle softly, finally tucking your phone back into your pocket, the danger ebbing away as you watch your boyfriend's shoulders slump as he shakes his head in disbelief. 
“I can’t believe I did, either.”
331 notes · View notes
melbatron5000 · 2 days
Text
The Big Damn Kiss
Buckle up, my fellow Good Omens Ineffable Mystery Puzzlers, Crackpotters, and Assorted Brainrotters, because I learned something HUGE yesterday.
This will be a bit of a long post, because I want to show you exactly how I got where I am. I want you to understand. I want to put all the naysayers to bed (ha! But I'm still gonna try), and settle this once and for all.
I know (almost) exactly what Crowley gave to Aziraphale during the kiss.
DO NOT TAKE ANY OF MY THEORIES TO NEIL! PLEASE!
Okay? Okay. Thanks. Shall we begin?
Ahem.
Firstly, whether you believe me or not, I am 100% certain that Crowley did, indeed, give something to Aziraphale in his mouth during The Kiss. I've covered that in the link previous. Okay? Okay.
I did not know what it was. I've now heard theories that it was a bullet (nope), a ball bearing (nope), hellfire (nope), and no one, NO ONE has suggested what I see. (If you have, hello! Talk to me!)
Here's our first foreshadowing Clue:
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And here's our next foreshadowing Clue:
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And the next:
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And our last Clue:
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With me so far? Well, that first GIF is a bit off, I couldn't find one of Crowley actually spitting out the flies. But he does. When Beelzebub first drags him to Hell, he actually goes "Pleaugh!" and spits out four or five flies.
Moving right along, we come to Crowley in Heaven with Muriel, looking at the trial. We learn two important things here:
One, Gabriel doesn't have a desk.
Two, Muriel does. Where they keep the records. And it's a bit lonely. Every few hundred years, someone comes and asks for something. Muriel can't access the sensitive ones, you have to be pretty high up. A throne, dominion, or higher. Like, maybe Supreme Archangel?
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So if Gabriel doesn't have a desk, whose desk is he at when he's getting ready to leave Heaven? Of course I can't find a damn picture of Gabriel at the desk, but it's Muriel's. Where they keep the RECORDS.
Gabriel puts his memory into the fly, then gets on the elevator to go to Earth.
Now, when Gabriel opens the fly with his memories inside, we find out that it's a container. Bigger on the inside. You can put thing(S) in it. The bit we see of him remembering is shot in two parts, one where he's flying down a red tunnel, one where he's flying down a blue. If you slow this scene down and watch, you can see that he is NOT looking at just his own memories. There is more going on here, more that he was not present for. @embracing-the-ineffable put up a great meta about that here. Go look!
Now I figured Gabriel must have taken something else. Something important. Something useful. Something he meant to give to Aziraphale, except he forgot.
I also figured he must have left whatever it was in the fly when he took his memories out. Crowley must have realized while watching the trial footage that Gabriel also grabbed something else. I don't know when Crowley grabs the fly, but he does. And that is what he gives to Aziraphale in the kiss. Why? Well.
I had no idea what Gabriel took until I started working on the chiastic structure of season 2. I'm not done with that analysis yet, but let me show you one thing that I have found so far:
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(The numbers are just to try and help me navigate the story and its events without time stamps)
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My note #357 of what happens isn't quite right, but when I saw the only two times Aziraphale says "I forgive you" are towards the beginning of Season 2 and towards the end, I realized I had something.
Rephrase line 357: Crowley's kiss is forgiven IN EXCHANGE FOR RECORDS.
(Not that I think Crowley's kiss needs to be forgiven. It's just what Aziraphale says, and had to say at that moment, because the Metatron was listening in.)
What does Heaven in Good Omens remind us of most of all?
A big corporate entity. And what do powerful people do when they get fired from a big corporate entity? They download all their emails while they're cleaning out their desks. Damning emails. Emails that can be used to black mail or even destroy big corporate entities. Or, ya know, maybe they swipe some sensitive RECORDS?
Oh yes.
Records that Gabriel meant to give to Aziraphale, but he forgot. Records that Crowley realized Gabriel had put in the fly. The fly that Crowley grabbed once Gabriel had his memory out. The fly that he gave to Aziraphale when he kissed him. The fly that no longer held Gabriel's memory, but did still contain those damning records.
Here's Aziraphale reading the records:
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Here's Aziraphale being horrified and outraged by what he's reading:
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And here's Aziraphale realizing he has got some GOOD DIRT on Heaven. Maybe enough to bring them down:
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That's it folks. I have no idea what the records actually say, and maybe we're not meant to know until season 3, but whatever it is, it's GOOD.
That's my story, and by God Herself, I'm sticking to it.
256 notes · View notes
mediumgayitalian · 2 days
Text
“You ready, Lou?”
“Duh.”
“Cecil? You’ve got full faith in your cabin?”
“Yep.”
“What about you, Will? Were your threats successful?”
“My bribes went wonderfully, thank you.”
“Then I think we’re a go.”
“Gods, this is going to be great.”
———
Knockknockknock.
Nico locks in on his game. He is so, so close to finally making it through this stupid quest, he can feel it, and if he doesn’t beat The Imprisoned before Percy he’s going to set the camp on fire.
Knockknockknock.
“Just — hold on a second!” He spams B, cursing loudly to himself, ignoring the twinge in his lower back from holding this position for so long. “Fuck, fuck, come on.” He clenches his teeth, knuckles white against the Wii remote, until finally — the boss falls. He cheers.
Fuck yes. Take that, Percy.
Tossing the remote on his bed, he jogs over to the door, sliding open the three bolts and unlocking the chains. On his porch is a blur of movement, hair frizzy and pulled-on, shirt rumbled.
“Oh, hey, Annabeth.”
She barely acknowledges him, focusing intently on pacing back and forth on the stone porch at the speed of light. He settles against the door frame, stretching out his spine, watching her mutter to herself.
“Chiron is leaving,” she says.
Nico raises an amused eyebrow. “I am aware.”
“With Mr. D. To some conference.”
“I heard.”
“He’s gone until early tomorrow evening.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He left me in charge.”
“Probably wise.”
“I need an allegiance, Nico.”
“Slow down and tell me what you mean, first.”
She sighs, coming to a stop in front of him. Her fingers still drum across her biceps, and her eyes dart around, evaluating. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip.
“Camp’s a lot of work,” she says finally. “I’ve never been in charge of so many people at once before, and like hell am I gonna let Chiron think I can’t handle it. I have a Plan, and you’re a part of it.”
Nico resists the urge to groan. Chiron leaving is supposed to mean he gets the next day or so off — no classes, no socializing, nothing. Just him in his cabin and the genuinely disgusting amount of junk food he has amassed.
(…And Will. Maybe.)
“It’s nothing crazy,” she promises. “I just need you to lurk.”
“…Lurk?”
“Yeah, you know. Chill in the shadows and scare people into complacency. You don’t even need to do much, just that thing where you stare at people like you know the exact day they’re going to die.”
“I do love lurking,” Nico admits. And to basically have a free pass to scare the shit out of whoever he wants… “I’ll do it.”
She smiles brightly. “Thanks, Nico! I knew I could count on you. I’ll meet up with you right after Chiron heads out, okay? To give you a list of people to keep your eye on.”
“Sure. Bye, Annabeth.”
“See ya!”
He closes the door and pads back to his setup, shaking the remote to get it going again. He can’t quite shake the smirk off his face.
The next twenty four hours are going to rock.
———
“Swiper No Swiping, initiate phase one.”
“Roger that, Sunny Dick.”
“…I’m revoking your code name priveledges.”
“No no no, I’m sorry, I’ll change it.”
———
Before Chiron leaves, he gathers them all in the amphitheatre.
“Children,” he calls, adjusting the bow slung across his back. “I am leaving now for my conference. I will be back before the sun sets tomorrow.” He gestures towards Annabeth, standing stiffly beside him. “Annabeth is in charge. Consider all my authority transferred to her before I return, am I understood?”
“Yes, Chiron,” courses the camp, some with significantly more attitude than others. Across the gathered crowd, Will catches his eye and winks. (Well, tries to. He has yet to catch on to the fact that he cannot, actually, wink, and instead just blinks really intentionally. Kayla and Austin have sworn him to secrecy.) Nico rolls his eyes, ears burning, and looks away.
“Good. Regular rules; no maiming, killing, or injuries above level seven. Any arson will result in a revoking of dessert privileges. Yes, Julia, even if you help in putting out the arson. It is the fire that is the issue, you understand. Excellent.” He claps his hands together. “I am looking forward to one day of peace. Try to avoid ruining it for me too quickly. Goodbye, children.”
With a wave and a fond squeeze of Annabeth’s shoulder, he trots over to Half-Blood Hill, ignoring Mr. D’s loud complaining about how long he took. With a snap of Mr. D’s fingers, they disappear. For a brief, uncanny moment, everything is still.
“Alright,” Annabeth shouts, clapping her hands together. Nico jumps. “Dinner is in an hour. Whoever is the first to fuck something up will be doing dishes. I will be watching. Dismissed.”
Wading through the swathes of ambling teenagers, she walks by where Nico is leaning against a pillar, half-hidden in the shadows.
“Lurk,” she orders, passing him.
Nico shoots her a mocking salute, fading into the shadow behind him. He barely catches her grin before he dissolves into the darkness.
———
“Phase two in effect. Ready to go, Sabrina Spellman?”
“Prepped to go, Teletubbies Sun Baby.”
“I hate both of you.”
———
“Halt!”
Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.
“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”
Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.
“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.
Annabeth stomps over to them, fists clenched at her sides, entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.
“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.
The three stooges exchange a look.
“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”
“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.
“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”
“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.
“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”
“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.
Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point. Idiots.
Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”
“Annabeth!” Will cries, hand to his chest, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”
“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”
Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.
“Tape off.”
Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.
“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”
With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name. Annabeth glares at the boxes with perhaps more disdain than the situation calls for.
Then again.
It is camp.
“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”
Like a hound dog locking in on a bleeding squirrel, Annabeth’s eyes narrow. Her lips spread into wide, frankly maniacal smirk.
“Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”
Caught.
“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.
“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”
“Do you three think I’m stupid.”
“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”
Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.
Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.
“Boo,” he whispers.
She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes.
“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.
On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.
“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”
“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”
Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.
Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.
Understanding dawns on her quickly.
“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”
They squirm harder.
“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”
“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”
“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”
“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.
“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”
Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”
“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you, how’s that for fun. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”
“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”
Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”
“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”
“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a wide grin and two middle fingers.
“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. ���Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”
Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.
“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”
“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.
“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.
“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.
Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.
He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.
———
“Is he still looking?”
“No.”
“Okay, Phase Three, let’s go let’s go let’s go —”
———
Every time Nico wakes with the sun, he sets aside twenty minutes of his morning routine to curse Apollo, his father, Apollo again, Phanes, and Prometheus. In that order.
He does like the bonus of getting breakfast. Usually he sleeps through it and has to hope Will saved him coffee cake, which he does, every time, because he wants to bribe his way into Nico’s affections. But there is something to be said about camp coffee cake when it is still warm, crumbly on the top and soft on the inside. It is a rare and occasionally worth-it treat, and on his bleary walk to the dining pavilion, Nico tries to keep this in the forefront of his mind. Fresh coffee cake. Fresh coffee. Fresh fruit. And Will, probably, not that seeing him is worth getting up early or anything. (So what that he gets all excited and energetic when he sees Nico up in the morning. If anything it’s embarrassing for him.)
For once, he’s actually early enough that there are very few people already at breakfast. He sees most of the Athena kids, still half-asleep over their mugs, and pretty much every camper under the age of eleven. A few head counsellors, too, watching out for the little ones or catching up on a rare moment of quiet. Nico makes a beeline for the breakfast spread, cutting a slice of coffee cake to leave on the platter and putting the rest of it on his plate. He puts a single strawberry in the middle of it so no one can accuse him of being unhealthy, then ambles over to the Apollo table.
“Neeks? Where’re you going?”
Nico pauses. He shifts his plate to one hand, rubbing at his bleary eyes. He looks at the Apollo table. He counts one, two, three heads — Kayla, Austin, and…Cecil?
“Nico? You good, babes?”
He turns, slowly, to face the voice. Picking at a plate full of pineapple, next to Reika Onason, Lou Ellen's sister, is Will.
“I know mornings are hard for you, but you’re meant to eat at your table,” he teases. “Come sit, doofus. Unless you’re taking advantage of Chiron’s absence to make friends elsewhere, I guess, but it seems unlike you.”
“You’re — what’re you — what?“ Nico says dumbly, struggling to reconcile the imagine in front of him.
For some reason, Will is eating his breakfast at the Hecate table.
And that is not all.
For some reason, his camp shirt does not say head medic. For some reason, he is wearing black jeans. For some reason, dozens of Celestial bronze rings adorn his fingers, carved with sigils. For some reason, his hair is clipped back, and there is black eyeliner around his bright blue eyes, and his nails are painted darker than Nico’s, and he is sitting at the Hecate table.
“What are you doing?”
“Having…breakfast,” Will says slowly. His lips turn down in concern. “Nico, are you okay?”
“I’m fine! It’s — you’re the one acting weird!”
Will and Reika exchange a look.
“Maybe you should go see Cecil,” Will suggests carefully. “Did you sleep okay last night? Maybe you hit your head —”
Nico looks desperately back at the Apollo table. They watch him strangely now, too, and after a second Cecil gets up from his — Will’s — seat, and walks over.
“Everything okay?” he asks, impish expression almost serious. “You look pale, Nico.”
“I’m worried,” Will says. “He’s acting — confused, Cece, maybe there’s a —”
“I’m not confused,” Nico scowls. “You two are — doing something.” He gestures vaguely between them. “As revenge for yesterday.”
Will snorts. “What, the potatoes? Don’t let Lou hear you discredit her like that. If you think she’d plan some revenge prank on you this early, you don’t know her at all.”
Nico’s head starts to hurt. He sets down his plate, rubbing his temples. Why would Lou Ellen be so bothered by that? Why isn’t she here, with her sister? What the hell is going on?
“Both of you — cut it out. Whatever dumbass prank you’re pulling is just stupid.”
“Did I hear something about a prank?” Bounding over from the camp store, arms laden with contraband junk food, is Lou Ellen, smiling brightly. “Whatever it is, I want in!”
“Oh, thank the gods, you’re back.” Will makes grabby hands at the pile. She tosses him a pack of twizzlers off the top, rolling her eyes as he tears into like he didn’t just polish off two and a half entire pineapples and three bowls of oatmeal. “I was going through withdrawal.”
“I’m not helping you when your stomach cramps up,” Cecil promises, snorting. His eyes follow the candy ropes in their harried journey towards Will's gaping maw. “You can sit in your misery.”
“Bleh bleh bleh.”
Nico narrows his eyes at them. Clearly, they’re all in on this — bit, or whatever it is. It’s a little too coordinated to be a quickly-planned revenge prank. They must have had a backup to the potatoes, although a pretty weak one. Unless they somehow managed to bribe the entire camp into agreeing to act along with their dumbassery, and Nico knows none of them can come even close to affording that, then all it takes is one person on Nico’s side before their little ruse is broken.
“It’s too early for this,” Nico says, interrupting their bickering. He picks up his breakfast and trudges off to his actual table, ignoring Will’s pouting. He has to brush the dust off the bench, but it’s worth it to avoid whatever headache the three of them will inevitably give him.
Coffee cake, save him.
———
“It’s not looking good, Katara —”
“I actually like that one.”
“— he’s totally onto us.”
“Just stick to the plan. Power onto Phase Four.”
———
To Nico's great satisfaction, many other people do double takes as they walk into breakfast.
As the Athena table, minus Annabeth, who is likely putting out a literal or metaphorical fire somewhere, wakes up, they start to notice the strange seating situation. It starts with Malcolm, who stares at Cecil in a lab coat with the same expression Nico has seen him wear when attempting to solve the Hodge conjecture. He leans over to murmur something in his brother’s ear, and then all seven of them are looking between the Hecate, Apollo, and mostly-empty Hermes tables with suspicious frowns and furrowed brows.
Nico catches Will’s eye, smirking.
Game’s up, he mouths. Will only shrugs innocently at him.
It’s Annabeth who finally puts a stop to the nonsense, striding in at the tail end of the rest of the slowly-waking crowd. She has grass in her hair and murder in her eyes.
Excellent.
“I swear to the gods, I just dealt with you three,” she snaps, raising her voice so they all can hear her. Coincidentally, it attracts the attention of every other nosy person at camp, which is everybody. “Just ‘cause Chiron’s not here doesn’t mean the rules go out the window. Back to your tables, let’s move.”
“We’re at our tables,” Cecil protests. “Why do people keep saying that?”
Annabeth takes a very deep, very long breath. She has a whole day of this, too. How unfortunate for her.
“Maybe because you are full of shit, Markowitz. Go sit with the rest of you troublemakers.”
Kayla clears her throat. “Annabeth, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Her thin eyebrows are drawn tightly together, lips turned down into a frown. “Cecil is exactly where he’s supposed to be.”
That gives her pause.
That gives a lot of people pause. Nico sets down his coffee cake.
“Cecil’s at the Apollo table,” Annabeth says slowly.
Kayla meets her gaze, face creased in concern. “...Yeah, I know.”
“Cecil is a Hermes kid, Kayla.”
She snorts. “Yeah, sometimes I think so, too. But as much as I would absolutely love to trade my brother —”
“Hey!”
“He’s a healer, Annabeth. He got claimed and everything.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Annabeth says, dragging her hand down her face. “Kayla, I don’t know what they paid you —”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” With a clatter of plates, Will clambers on the table, clapping his hands. “Your attention please, everyone!”
Without so much as a pause, Will claps his hands together. Immediately, a ball of green light expands from them, flashing almost too bright to look at. Nico watches, slack jawed, as he tosses it into the air, making it explode into a thousand little sparkles, descending gently over everyone’s heads. The little kids laugh in delight, reaching for them like they’re bubbles.
“Does that settle things?” he demands.
Silence rings for one, two, three seconds.
The camp erupts.
Dozens of voices overlap, all shouting over each other at once. Hands gesture wildly at Will, at Cecil, at Lou — trying to piece things together. Will is their head medic — isn’t he? Then why is Cecil wearing scrubs? And why is Lou chilling at the Hermes’ table, chatting with Julia over a bowl of cereal? Something isn’t right.
“Just — everybody quiet!”
It takes a minute, but everyone settles down, sitting back in their seats and fidgeting, looking around with half-confused, half-amused smiles. Like they’re laughing at a joke they’re half convinced is real.
“Who thinks this —” Annabeth makes some vaguely indicative movement at Will, Lou, and Cecil — “is weird? Raise your hand.”
Almost all hands go up. Only a handful stay down — Will, Lou Ellen, and Cecil, of course, but the entirety of the Hermes cabin stays oddly silent, as do Kayla, Austin, Reika, and, shockingly, Clovis.
“Stoll,” Nico demands before Annabeth gets the chance, “you’re buying this?”
“Buying what?” Connor says after a moment. He shrugs, eyes twinkling in amusement. “I’m just chillin’ with my sister, Nico. Cecil is great, but he hasn’t been in our cabin since he got claimed.”
The rest of the Hermes kids nod in agreement. Whispers filter through the tables — first Kayla, now all the Hermes kids?
“If I may,” interjects Clovis, yawning. “There’s an…energy, around.”
“Gods, yeah, I was feeling it too,” Will agrees frantically. “Almost a…blanket, of some kind. Something heavy and stifling.”
Malcolm looks over with interest. “You think we got cursed, or something? The whole camp?”
Will shrugs. “Maybe? Can’t think of any other reason you guys are remembering things weird.”
“It could be a god’s interference,” Nyssa suggests, raising her voice to be heard from the Hephaestus table. “I mean, that’s what happened to Jason and Leo and Piper, right? Their memories got fudged.”
“Yeah, but camp-wide…”
“Could still be possible.”
“There’s no way! They’re fucking with us, come on —”
It doesn’t take long for the arguing to start up again. This time, though, more people looked spooked — more people look to the dumbass trio themselves, eyes wide like they’re looking at ghosts.
Like they’re believing this shit.
Nico scowls, shoving away from his table and stomping over to his boyfriend.
“You are so full of shit I can smell you from across the room,” he says, raising his voice to be heard over the noise.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He wiggles his fingers in Nico’s direction. They spark with the same green light. “Want me to switch your eyes and ears again?”
That sounds horrifying. “Try it and die.”
“Alright, grouchy.” He holds his hands up, stepping back from Nico’s glare. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
Alarm bells go off in Nico’s head. This is more than just strange, it’s wrong. And not just ‘cause he looks different — so what if he looks different. Will could shave his head bald and tattoo himself purple, Nico wouldn’t care.
But his aura.
The essence of Will, that Nico has grown so used to be stopped noticing. The quiet, warmth strength, the feeling of a soft breeze in the summer, of walking past a window in the late afternoon, of smokey August campfires and scratchy guitar, is gone. Is different, rather; almost blocked. It feels like a cloud blowing over the sun, making everything warped and off and shadowy.
Something is afoot. Something is wrong, and not just some vague, made-up spell like the Trickster Trio would have the camp believe. Something like smoke and mirrors, something shadier.
He watches Will fall into step next to Cecil, ducking away from his ruffling hand. He frowns.
If there’s one thing Nico can do, it’s wade through the shadows.
———
next
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ellecdc · 22 hours
Note
Okie but I really would love more Barty x potter sibling reader it just makes me happy I don’t care if it’s smut fluff angst I will read whatever you write please👉🏻👈🏻
love these goofs so much, thanks for your request!
Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!reader who feels really bad for manatees
CW: talking about how it's illegal to interact with manatees and how sad that is (read: it's fluff), fem!reader, reader has long enough hair to push behind her ear
It had taken a bit of coercion on James’ part to convince Regulus to join him up in Gryffindor tower tonight - and by coercion, I mean James batted his eyelashes dramatically and promised lots of cuddles and kisses for Regulus’ ‘trouble’ - but James was feeling quite chuffed as he and his now official boyfriend stepped through the portrait hole of the Gryffindor common room.
Those feelings of chuffedness quickly vanished when he spotted you cozied up in an armchair built for one with none other than Barty Crouch Junior. 
“Who would you rather she be with, James?” Regulus hissed at him, alerting James to the fact that he’d been grumbling aloud.
“Anyone.” He muttered petulantly.
Regulus scoffed in response. “Please; I hardly think you’d believe anyone good enough for your sister.”
James thought that Regulus was quite right. 
“I think you’re quite right.” He admitted aloud before starting towards the two of you. 
“James Fleamont Potter.” Regulus hissed as he grabbed James roughly by the sleeve. “You look at me right now.”
James wrenched his eyes away from you to look at Regulus’ fuming (though no less beautiful) eyes, dividing his attention between two of the people he loved the most in the whole world. 
“James Potter, boyfriend or not I will drown you in the Black Lake and leave you to the sodding squid if you go over there right now.”
James ripped his gaze from where Barty’s hand sat on your knee to look at his boyfriend scandalized. “You wouldn’t.”
“You know I would.” Regulus threatened promised. “Do not fuck around with the only love he receives.”
James fought the urge to whine as he turned his gaze back over to the two of you; you were speaking animatedly, gesticulating wildly as you lamented about something James would have absolutely told you to shut the fuck up about nearly 30 seconds in.
“You can see how much he worships her, Jamie. And I think you should feel grateful knowing that there is truly no one who would be as devoted to her as he is.”
James did whine petulantly at that, even perhaps embarrassingly stomping his foot a little bit, though he would deny it if you asked. “I hate it.”
“Tough.” Regulus said simply, pulling James over to a love seat near the fireplace; close enough to see and hear the two of you, but not close enough that the pair would alert either of you to their presence. “Just be quiet and watch.”
James made a dramatic gagging sound earning him a smack up the back of the head from his boyfriend, but he acquiesced and turned his attention back to the two of you.
You were curled up on Barty’s lap; your back resting against the arm of the chair and your feet tucked under Barty’s thigh that you weren’t currently perched on.
You regularly tried to shove your feet under people that you were sitting with because your feet were always cold; James knew this because he’d swatted at your legs enough times for doing it to him. Barty didn’t seem to mind much though.
He also didn’t seem to mind that you were holding one of his hands hostage in yours as you fiddled and played with the various rings adorning his hands, speaking a million miles a minute and hardly pausing to take a breath.
“I just think it’s so sad. I mean; they don’t know! They don’t know that it’s not safe for them to be around people, but I can’t help thinking; what if they think we’re ignoring them?!” You asked emphatically.
Barty’s eyebrows rose to mirror yours as he raised his free hand to push a lock of hair behind your ear that had fallen in your theatrics.
“It’s because they have no natural predators, you see.” You continued solemnly, earning you an ‘oh, really?’ from Barty. “Many people think that sharks or alligators may pose a threat to manatees; but the species peacefully coexist. So, you know, then all of a sudden there are these long noodly manatee things in the water and the manatees are just like ‘holy shit; that’s a weird looking manatee! I’ve never seen one of those before.’ And then they try to make friends or say hello, but it’s illegal for humans to touch them.”
“Illegal?” Barty queried. “To touch an animal begging you to touch it?”
“Exactly!” You agreed quite loudly, if you asked James. He watched though as Barty’s hand moved back down to your legs and brushed his thumb in soothing circles as he kept his attention dutifully on you. “So they’re asking for pets or saying hello and trying to make friends; and people have to just…keep swimming. I’m sure they believe we must be quite rude, always ignoring them like that.”
You sounded actually quite dejected at the thought; your face falling as you looked down at Barty’s hand in your lap.
“Do you think perhaps there are mermaids where the manatees live?” Barty asked, earning him an eager gasp from you as you seemed to remember something.
“That’s brilliant Barty.” You shouted; and though James expected a cocky expression to grace Barty’s face at being told he was right about something, it never came. In fact, his face remained dutifully lovesick. 
“Did you know that muggles used to believe manatees were actually mermaids or sirens during the late 15th century?”
Barty scoffed at that. “Well they’ve clearly never seen a mermaid before if they believe those sweet things resemble one.”
“Well yes, but I think muggles imagine mermaids differently. More just a beautiful lady living in the water, maybe with a tail; the beauty standards back then idealized curvy women.”
“Obviously, curvy birds are hot.”
“I know!” You agreed quickly. “I’m sure though that if we have mermaids in the sodding Black Lake, surely they have them in the America's?”
Barty was quickly nodding his head at you. “I’m sure I’ve read somewhere that they do, Princess.”
“Yeah?” You asked hopefully.
James watched as Barty’s face broke out in a soft grin as you met his eyes. “Would I ever lie to you?”
You shook your head in response and returned your gaze to your lap where you continued playing with his hand. 
“Maybe the mermaids are friends with the manatees? They look like they’d just love some belly rubs.” You mused.
“Perhaps someone just needs to tell the mermaids to tell the manatees that it’s for their own good.”
You looked back up at that. “Yeah?”
“They could be like our underwater owl; we just travel to…”
“Florida.” You offered for him.
“Florida and find some mermaids to deliver our message.”
You seemed to consider the idea before looking back at him. “I think you might have to do it alone.”
Barty tilted his head at you and squeezed your calf. “You wouldn’t want to come with me to swim with manatees and mermaids?”
You shook your head. “I don’t think I could; if a manatee approached me I would have to pet it and then the manatees would all die and it would be my fault.”
Barty hummed in understanding and brought one of his hands to your chin. “Okay, Princess; I’ll be your oceanic owl.”
“You’d do that for me?”
Barty gently pulled you by your chin to slot your lips together. “I would do anything for you.”
James, having had quite enough of seeing such sickening displays of love thank you very much, turned his very unimpressed glare to Regulus, who was already looking at him with one perfectly arched eyebrow. 
“That’s disgusting.” He grumbled indignantly. 
“Are you telling me you wouldn’t be a manatee’s owl for me? Don’t I deserve that?”
James scoffed derisively at that. “I think it’s very obvious I would; you’re the most deserving person I know!”
“Then doesn’t your sister deserve that too?” Regulus asked gently.
James’ eyes moved back over to where you were now tracing delicate shapes over Barty’s face with your forefinger, yet he still couldn’t seem to force his eyes away from lovingly gazing at you.
“Let me ask you this, Jamie.” Regulus asked, joining James in watching his friend and James’ sister from afar. “Do you think there’s a line you would draw when it comes to how far you’d go for me?”
“No!”
“No?”
“Of course not.” James insisted.
“So you’d kill your mother for me?”
What?
“What?” James asked dumbly.
Regulus smirked. “Would you kill your own mother for me?”
“Erm,”
“Jamie.”
“Yeah?”
“The answer is no; that’s the right answer.”
“Oh thank Godric.” James sighed, holding his head in his hands. 
“But Barty would; Barty would raze the entire fucking earth for Y/N.” Regulus continued. “And even if he wouldn’t,” He continued when James seemed to take issue with that. “How long would you have let her talk about manatees?”
James huffed and crossed his arms petulantly, even though he knew the answer. The answer was that he would have cut her off the second he realized she wasn’t talking about quidditch or pranks.
“She’s very loved, James. And he…” Regulus seemed to take an emotional breath as he watched his oldest friend take your hand and bring it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “You Potter’s love like no one else I’ve ever known, James.”
James turned his full attention to his boyfriend and took one of Regulus’ hands in both of his.
“You love loudly, and openly, and freely, and everyone around you is better for it. Barty most of all.” 
James let out a sigh and kissed Regulus’ knuckles. 
“Fine.” He relented in faux irritation. 
Regulus chuckled and pressed a shy kiss to James’ shoulder. “Don’t worry James, you Potter’s are in the protection of Slytherin’s now; we protect our own.”
And whether or not James particularly liked Barty, if there was one thing he knew to be true; no one would be able to mess with you with the likes of him around.
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heich0e · 3 days
Text
there's an east wind blowing beyond your bedroom window.
you know it's from the east because the rain falling outside is hitting the windowpane in a soft tap-tap-tap that occasionally intensifies on a particularly strong gust. you know your bedroom window faces east because every morning you can see the sun cresting in the distance, diffusing—soft and pink and warm on your favourite days—through the gauzy panels of your curtains.
"you up yet?"
it's not morning now. far from it, in fact. the night's still only new, though it's already fully-dark outside—and has been for most of the day thanks to the dreary weather. it's late enough in the evening that most businesses have closed their doors for the day and people have returned to their homes, but not quite late enough to justify the fact that you're already curled up tightly underneath the covers of your bed.
you roll over in your comfortable cocoon and spy touya in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he watches you.
he's got his coat on.
"are you going out?" you ask him, your voice a little thicker than it usually is. you've been awake for a while, but your afternoon nap (that ran longer than you expected) has left it hoarse from disuse.
touya makes a quiet sound of agreement. not quite a grunt, nor a hum, but something somewhere in-between the two.
you push yourself up slightly in bed, propping your body upright on your elbows. "but it's raining."
touya hates the rain, and has for as long as you've known him. he's the first one to complain when dark clouds roll in, to curse as his teeth chatter and he shakes droplets from his hair when he steps through the door after getting caught in an unexpected downpour, to go out of his way to avoid making plans that require him to leave the house at the slightest mention of inclement weather.
"'s letting up a bit, i think," he answers from the doorway with a little shrug. "i just need to run to the convenience store, anyway."
he shuffles a little further into the room as you lift your hand and reach out for him, approaching the edge of the bed wordlessly and slipping his hand into your own. he peers down at you from your bedside as you lift his hand and press it to your cheek.
"what do you need at the store?" you ask him, your lips pursed slightly. it's not that late, and the weather really isn't that bad, but you'd still prefer he stay here with you.
"ran outta patches today," he replies, though there's something almost a little resentful in the statement. even his expression is a bit more annoyed than it had been a moment prior, in a way that almost makes you giggle—but you suppose the nicotine withdrawal could be playing a part in that.
"just patches, right? not patches and a pack—"
"not patches and a pack of cigarettes to tie me over on the walk home," he finishes the sentence for you before you get the chance, rolling his eyes a bit. "i know, i know."
he frees his hand from your grip and pokes your cheek lightly, earning him a little laugh you can't help but let slip through your lips.
"i'm 24 days in, you know. not about to throw it all away now," he reminds you pointedly.
"good," you reply with an encouraging nod and a somewhat cheeky smile. you never doubted him anyway. "make sure you take an umbrella."
he nods, his touch still lingering against your cheek. his fingertips skirt down, tracing along your jaw, until he reaches your mouth. he presses his thumb lightly against your chin, seemingly just to watch your lips part.
"d'ya want anything?"
you shake your head in dissent, but then pause, your eyes lighting up.
"can you get pickled ginger?"
"pickled ginger?" he asks you, a bit incredulously. "again? thought we just got some of that."
"i finished the jar earlier," you reply with a shrug.
"that can't be good for you," touya remarks dryly, letting his hand drop from your face. "you're gonna start pickling yourself from the inside out if you keep eating so much of that stuff."
"it's not my fault that pickling is the superior form of food preparation." you flop back lazily against your pillows, meeting his gaze resolutely. you lift your fingers as you list out the various accolades. "cold, crunchy, sour, kinda sweet, sometimes spicy—what's not to love?"
touya's nose wrinkles. he's never been a huge fan of pickles, but especially not in the volume you've been consuming them lately.
"whatever you say," he answers, knowing now after all this time when he ought to bow out of an argument before it starts. "mom texted me earlier and said she was sending yumi over with side dishes tomorrow, and there'll probably be pickled vegetables in there. so you can wait until then."
"fine," you sniff, and you may pout a little, but touya knows your excitement at his little sister coming to visit outweighs any annoyance you may feel about having to wait a whole twelve hours to get your fix.
outside, the wind picks up again, and the tapping against the windowpane gets a little bit louder.
"sounds like it's getting worse," you murmur, your face turned in the direction of the window. you glance up at him again, blinking from where you're sprawled out across your pillows. "you sure you wanna go out in that?"
touya nods, kneeling at the edge of the bed and dipping down so he can press a kiss to your forehead. you're still warm from sleep, and soft in all the ways he's come to depend on. you smell like your shampoo and your sheets—and a little bit like him too, since the floral-printed bedlinen is as much his own now as it is yours.
"be back soon," he speaks quietly into your skin before pulling away.
you wave him off tiredly, and as he leaves the room, touya wonders if you'll be asleep again before he returns.
he pulls his shoes off the rack in the genkan, tucked away next to yours, and leaves his slippers there as he stuffs his feet into footwear better suited for the elements. he grabs his keys off the little table in the entryway, the keychain you bought for him at the aquarium glinting in the light as he tucks them into his coat pocket. last, he grabs the umbrella from just beside the door—he doubts he'll even use it, but you told him to take it, so he does.
there's an unexpected break in the rain as touya steps out into the spring night, and he blinks up at the sky overhead a bit incredulously when he realizes his luck. he doesn't linger to appreciate it for long, knowing that at any moment his fortune could change, shuffling off in the direction of the convenience store at the other end of the street.
he sidesteps puddles along the sidewalk on his way, admiring how the streetlights ripple in the surface as he passes.
touya used to hate the rain, but he can't help but think that it's not so bad when he knows that he has somewhere—and someone—warm waiting to welcome him home.
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Text
Finally Getting Help (pt 14)
 Masterpost
“Do you want to go back to the manor, or do you want to go somewhere else?” Jason asked Danny after a few quiet minutes driving. 
“Can we go out of Gotham? Somewhere quiet,” Jason hummed and nodded before switching the com on. “Hey Bruce, will you kill me if I take Danny camping for tonight?” He asked, he knew Danny loved the stars, being away from Gotham’s pollution for a night and getting to properly see the stars would probably help. 
There was a pause and then Bruce’s soft response. “No, I know you’ll take care of him, Jaylad. Will you stop by the manor so Alfred can make sure you have everything you need?”
“Ya I’ll do that, will you call him to make sure he has stuff ready for us? Probably a car too since I don’t think I can fit a tent and provisions on the back of my bike,” Jason chuckled. 
“Don’t you worry Master Jason, we have a motorcycle trailer I shall pack for you,” Alfred said over the coms.
Jason had forgotten that Alfred was on the coms as Agent A. “Thanks A,” Jason said and then turned off the radio again. “Does that sound good Danny? We’ll probably have to wait a bit for Alfred to pack up some food for us and stuff but getting out of Gotham overnight, being able to see the sky…?”
“Ya, ya Jason that sounds perfect. Thank you,” Danny said, squeezing Jason gently and snuggled against his back.
They pulled up outside the manor and Jason kicked down his bike stand so they could both get off. “Do you want to go in and pack some clothes or stay out here?” Jason asked as he got off and leaned against his bike still.
“I don’t want to go in,” Danny said quickly. Jason knew the feeling, where being surrounded by walls felt like a trap. 
“Alright, do you mind Alfie grabbing some clothes for you then?” He asked.
“No, I don’t mind,” Danny assured. “I’m looking forward to getting away from people. I’m glad not to have to be a hero anymore honestly, but I haven’t used my ghost form in a couple weeks and I want to Fly,” He said. “Nothing clears my head like flying as fast as I can.”
“Ya I can imagine. Bruce should introduce you to some of the supers, it would be good for you to spar with someone you can go all out with,” Jason said crossing his arms, not missing the way Danny’s eyes lingered on his biceps, smirking a little at Danny’s moment of distraction.
“Ya, it would probably be good for me to get some training with my powers too. Mom taught both me and Jazz martial arts when we were kids, before things got bad, but that was a while ago and before I got my powers.” Danny said a little vaguely. 
Jason nodded and was about to respond when he heard a soft motor, looking up to see Alfred driving a cart over to them, towing a small trailer towards them that no doubt had everything they needed for their camping trip. Maybe even enough from a weekend away in case Danny needed more time. 
“I’m sure you have a relatively secure location in mind, Master Jason?” Alfred asked once he came to a halt.
“Ya I do, Gonna get as far away from civilization as I can within a day’s drive,” He told Alfred who gave a thin smile and nodded.
“Very good, be safe you too,” Alfred said, stepping back again.
“We will, thank you Alfred,” Danny said with a little smile, going to stand by the bike, letting Jason get on first again before sitting down behind him again and hugged him.
“Ya, don’t worry about us,” Jason assured as he put his helmet back on and kicked off, speeding back out of the manor drive before anyone else got home. They were probably dawdling to give Jason and Danny time to get out again, he appreciated it, he didn’t think Dick in particular would be able to stop himself from questioning Danny. Even though he would only have the best intentions and all that but now wasn’t the time.
It was a decently long drive to the nearest national park, where Jason went off-roading and in the back. He would make a donation later, he just didn’t want anyone to be able to track that this was where they were. Taking Danny this far away from Gotham and the other Bats was already a bit of a risk with Vlad still at large but Jason had the specter-deflector and blaster Danny gave him with them and he hadn’t told anyone where they were going, they’d be fine. He was good at off-roading and judging from the giggling from Danny he was enjoying the off-road motorbike ride. 
When they were far enough away from the road no one was likely to see them there was a bright flash behind Jason and the weight of his bike shifted. He almost panicked Danny had fallen off before he caught movement to his side and glanced over to see Danny, now with white hair and green eyes, grinning at him impishly and racing along at his side flying fast.
“Race you!” Danny said, his voice had an odd echoing chime to it in this form but it was still recognizably his. There was plausible deniability about his identity though, sure as hell more than there was for superman but maybe they should still find him a mask.
“You’re on! But no just going through the trees! If I have to dodge, so do you!” Jason laughed.
“You got it!” Danny cheered.
Jason knew he was going to lose, but it was good to see Danny smiling, pinging between trees like a fucking ping-pong ball with pent up energy from not having used his powers at all for more then a week. Working out all the nerves and jitters as Jason raced along behind him trying to keep up.
Jason thought it was probably an hour of flying/driving before they came to a bank of a lake, he had to turn his bike sideways and skid to not slip into the water as Danny laughed at him. 
“This seems like a good place to set up camp huh?” Danny said, his feet finally touching the ground again. Another bright flash made Jason blink and Danny was his black haired, blue eyes self again. “Do you think Alfred packed us swim suits?” 
-------
They unpacked everything Alfred had sent them, set up the tent far enough back from the lake they couldn’t be seen across it, and laughed about the amount of food he’d sent them. It was enough to feed an entire team for a week! Still it was good food, and Danny was particularly excited about a chicken soup he’d sent in a metal container that could be heated up over a fire. 
Once they were unpacked Jason went to grab firewood, leaving Danny alone in the camp to take his binder off and change his shirt since that one still had jelly on it from the ultrasound. By the time he came back Danny had changed into a hoodie so his chest was barely visible, only when Danny absently rubbed it. When Danny caught Jason staring he gave the other man a shy smile and darted over to steal a kiss, taking half the wood to help Jason carry it to the fire-pit. 
Jason set about making a fire while Danny went back to the lake, wading in the shallows since they didn’t have their swimsuits. It was too cool out for an ordinary human to swim anyway, though Danny would probably be fine.
Jason glanced over now and then, watching Danny’s figure as he strolled along the shore, pants rolled up and ankles swishing through the green water without a sound. He piled kindling and lit it easily, stoking the fire and adding bigger logs, sitting back and waiting for some coals to develop while he set up their little camping grill. Once he could pull out some coals he did, put the grill over them and set the food on that to heat. 
When the food started to smell good Danny came wandering back over and sat down cross legged next to Jason, leaning against his shoulder. “Alfred’s the best cook in the family,” Jason said as he stirred the food, the soup which was just for Danny, and a chili and rice. “But I’m a pretty damn good cook too, if I do say so myself, you should come over to my place for dinner some time. I’d like to cook for you,” He admitted, it was always a way he showed affection.
“I’d like that,” Danny said, his eyes fixed on the fire and a small smile on his lips. His presence at Jason’s side was comforting and cool. He still seemed like he was a little bit out of it, bouncing back and forth between energy and lethargy, denial and grief probably. Jason had resolved not to say anything until after food, things tended to seem less dire with a stomach full of good food.
Once the food was steaming he used his gloves to pull the grill off the fire, nudging Danny to shuffle away so he could put it down between them. With the spoons he’d used to stir still in them. 
“Do you want to share?” Danny asked, trying to hide his reluctance, which was sweet.
“If you want to, but if not the soup is all yours,” Jason assured.
“Thanks. I guess I am eating for three now,” Danny chuckled a little bitterly before he grabbed the spoon and started to eat, blowing carefully on each bite so it wouldn’t be too hot. 
They ate in silence, Danny quickly finished off all the soup, which would have been enough for two people but Danny ate a lot. He’d need to eat more before bed no doubt. Alfred had still packed them why too much food but maybe there was a method to his madness anyway. Jason finished most of the Chili and then pushed the rest towards Danny who gave him a sheepish smile but finished that off too. 
Jason moved the grill out from between them and Danny scooted closer to Jason again. When he lifted his arm Danny ducked under it so Jason could drape his arm over Danny’s shoulders, keeping the shorter man tucked against his side. “So, do you feel up to talking now?” Jason asked softly and Danny sighed, turning his head to hide his face against Jason’s shoulder for a moment. 
“Ya,” He muttered resignedly when he came out of hiding. “It’s not really the babies this time. I mean ya I was still sort of in denial about actually being pregnant and seeing it made it real so that was a lot, but I had already mostly processed it. I want the babies, we’ll set up a nursery at the manor, I’ll have support, hell Bruce would probably even hire a nanny if we need. I’ll be able to finish school, it’s just…” He trailed off for a moment.
“You know, when I was born my dad was a little disappointed, they loved me but they’d wanted a daughter and a son. When I was assigned female at birth and they didn’t want any more kids, he was a little disappointed. When I came out as trans they were So Excited. My dad kept talking about how he knew I’d taken after him! I was going to be a ‘big man’ after all. He couldn’t seem to understand that even though I was a man it hadn’t changed my biology. They were so supportive, my mom Screamed at a teacher who made me cry misgendering me, got them fired. 
“They weren’t always bad parents, there were always good days. Ya they’d retreat into their lab for days at a time and we’d have to fend for ourselves, they left guns and chemicals all over the place. I Know they weren’t good parents, but they still loved us, and I loved them. And despite everything half of me really wants them to know their grandkids, wanted my mom to be there holding his hands and have my dad come bursting through the wall because he’s so excited to be a grandpa,” Danny sniffled a little. 
“I’ll be a better parent then they were by miles, but it’s sort of scary to know that love isn’t always enough. People who love you… still hurt you. It’s not fair that the good parts are all tangled up in the bad parts, and the bad parts are to bad to let anywhere near me or the babies, especially with the whole, half ghost thing.” 
“Ya, it’s not,” Jason sighed, biting his lip for a moment before clearing his throat. “Before Bruce took me in, before I was an orphan, my mom was an addict. Dad was in prison, it was just the two of us. On her good days she taught me to cook, she sang me lullabies, taught me Spanish.” He trailed off and sighed. “On her bad days she was too high to move, or unconscious. She’s be that way for days until the drugs ran out, I’d make sure she ate, try and keep the place clean, hell I had to help her go to the washroom. And I did it, because I was holding on to that last good day, and hoping for the next one. Even when the good days came less and less often near the end.
“Kids love their parents, even when they don’t deserve it. When the parent loves them too a kid can forgive just about any failing and dismiss all the hurt the parents cause because ‘people who love you wouldn’t hurt you’. Truth is the people who love you can often hurt you the worst, because you let them into your head, and rationalize everything they do. So if they hurt you, that must be what love feels like.”
“What do you think love feels like?” Danny asked, voice soft and vulnerable. 
“Well, for me I guess I learned what love really felt like when I moved in with Bruce,” though he was loathed to admit it. “When he’d carry me up to bed even though he knew I was only pretending to be asleep, he’d go slow so he could hold me a bit longer because he knew that’s what I really wanted. When he stayed home from patrol with me because I was sick and I wanted comfort, or remembered where my favourite gargoyle was so he could come find me when I was upset. And Alfred, teaching me to cook his family recipes and making me tea when I woke up in the middle of the night with nightmares, never seeming put out he was losing sleep.
“Love is… warm, and forgiving, willing to give you what you need without resenting it. Of course Bruce wasn’t perfect, stubborn, moralistic, self important bastard.” Danny let out an amused snort as Jason continued. “But… I know he did his best, and he never abandoned me. Even when I was dying I knew he was on his way, it sucked that he didn’t get there in time, but I never believed he abandoned me because I knew he never would.”
“I guess that’s Jazz for me. She’s only two years older than me, but she was always there, she showed me how to do just about everything. I thought it was annoying that she was always after me about doing my homework and stuff, but it means she really cared. Not just when she remembered to, or didn’t have anything better to do. 
“I guess I’m a little scared of that too. Now that I have a safe home, and she’s 18, she’s going to go to university and make new friends. She knows I’m safe now, so what if she doesn’t… care as much anymore?” Danny asked.
“That’s not going to happen,” Jason said immediately. “She might be around a bit less, but she won’t care any less. That’s what siblings are like. I should know, I have enough of them,” he joked and Danny gave a wet laugh. 
“Ya, she deserves to have her own life anyway,” Danny said, but he seemed calmer. They sat in a comfortable silence, watching the sunset across the lake, it was beautiful.
“Sooo, how do you think you want to decorate the nursery?” Jason asked and saw Danny smile.
“I’ll tell you in a minute, now that it’s dark there’s one more thing I have to do to feel better,” He said sardonically, ducking out from under Jason’s arm and standing. “Cover your ears,” he directed as he walked over to the lake.
Jason was confused, but he did as Danny asked as the other transformed into his ghost form. At the edge of the lake he took a deep breath and Wailed, the water exploded up around him forced back by the sound. Jason clamped his hands over his ears more firmly as the sound ricocheted around his skull, it was such a pure rage, fear, and sorrow he could Feel it bubbling in him as well, like it was more feeling than sound. Jason didn’t know how long it was before Danny stopped, collapsing to his knees and changing back into human form, breathing hard. 
Hesitantly Jason uncovered his ears and after a moment Danny took a deep breath and came back over to him, collapsing next to him by the fire. “Okay for the nursery I was thinking of a celestial theme.” 
They talked for a long time about what Danny wanted for the nursery at the manor. When Jason worked up the courage to suggest if they were still going strong in a few months they should set up a second nursery in his apartment. So Danny could come visit with the babies more easily once they were born, they moved on to plans for that hypothetical. They decided on a forest theme for that one, Jason was looking forward to it. He loved kids, and ya he and Danny were new but he had a really good feeling about this.
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doromoni · 3 days
Text
Clash of Champions | LH44 , MV1
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Act 2 . Part 3 : The Champion’s Weapon
Ships : Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader , Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader
Genre : Drama , Angst , Romance
Warning : Morally Grey Characters , Swearing , Insinuation of Forced Drug Use,
A/N: Forgive me for taking so long. University had me by the neck.
Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 go off track and only one will reign victorious
< Previous
Act 2. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
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The sudden exit of Y/N L/N had put immense pressure on Mercedes. Investors had started pulling out and stock shares were dropping by the second. The influence behind your name was something that Mercedes had never accounted for.
Your move to Red Bull has been one of the most shocking news of Formula 1 since Sebastian Vettel’s move to Ferrari. The name Y/N L/N had always been strongly associated with the German racing team — No one outside Mercedes had expected the sudden team shift.
From the outsider's perspective, Y/N L/N and Mercedes were a package deal. Your initial start at being Nico’s head engineer had turned heads. Then you suddenly transferred to Lewis’ team without explanation and had the paddock talking. But are you leaving Mercedes to move to their rival, in the middle of the most competitive season? All of the motorsport is in the question of why.
You were the best race engineer of your time. Every other team would kill to have you in their pit wall. Now Red Bull had you and your addition to the team was forecasted to be monstrous on the grid.
Nothing was set, but rumors had spread that you were going to be Max’s engineer as soon as possible.
The rumors were not baseless. You were ready to go and wreak havoc on Mercedes. And if that meant being with Max at Red Bull, then you’ll do so with a smile.
The excitement and eagerness of a new start was seeping off of you as you entered Red Bull Racing Headquarters. Your red-bottomed heels resounded with every step you took. Each step confident as the last one.
Red Bull’s factory was a sight to behold, the atmosphere felt very much alive and bustling. People in uniforms and iPads fly in and out of rooms like worker bees.
Each one greeted you with smiles, waves and with some stopping and talking to you as if you weren’t the enemy just a few races before. The feeling and interaction were so foreign, you have forgotten that not every motorhome was as toxic as Mercedes.
Your eyes linger towards the ginormous 2 story wall of trophies. It was not short of impressive. But what caught your attention wasn’t the number of trophies … but the empty section on it.
Then suddenly, you were pulled into a warm embrace. Your back is tucked into your chest, and your arms are wrapped around your waist loosely. The scent of sandalwood, spice and bourbon filled your senses.
“Christian said that section was for me. For future wins and all. ” Max spoke down to your ear, his breath sending your stomach spinning in every good way possible. His thumb gently brushed over your hips.
You couldn’t help but chuckle as he said that. Leave it to Horner to show his favor towards the Dutch Driver.
Although you enjoyed being in the comfortable and warm hug of the Dutch driver, you realized that you were still in the middle of the lobby.
So you reluctantly removed yourself from Max’s hold. Your eyes suddenly turn your attention back to the bewildered Red Bull employees and staff who are watching you and Max wide-eyed.
Shocked at the display of affection from their usually stoic 1st driver. What's more, it was towards the beautiful race engineer with a reputation of being merciless. The news of what happened at the party didn’t help your odds.
The situation suddenly dawned on you. People just saw you and Max.
“Shit! Max people are looking ” You looked at the Dutch driver, alarmed. The memories of Lewis denying your relationship to all of Mercedes came back to you. And you couldn’t lie, it still stung.
“Yeah, I know. Why, what’s wrong Y/N? ” Max was so nonchalant and unconcerned. You and Max haven’t talked about what your relationship was and what it would mean for the both of you when you were to become coworkers. Your mouth went ajar at his calmness.
“What’s with that expression? Should I be concerned?” Now Max looked at you confused as he surveyed the environment.
“You don’t care? “ You asked. Max just shrugged and muttered a no. His hand finds its way toward your waist again.
Laughing to yourself, finding the circumstances extremely funny. A huge smile then blossomed on your face. While Max was looking down at you with amusement.
“Why should I care if people are looking? Is it weird to hug my girlfriend?” Max called you his girlfriend as if were natural. He said it with so much assurance
“I'm your girlfriend?” You asked, now a smile wide on your lips. You were teasing the driver, but you had butterflies. You felt giddy as you gazed at Max.
“If you’ll take me as your boyfriend and wouldn’t mind me taking you out and spoiling you. Then yeah, you’re my girlfriend” The look on Max's was smug, and he had every right to be. Max’s charming ways did things to you and he knew it.
“Hmm , I don’t know. I’m not sure if I should be dating my driver. Conflict of interests, you know?” You played along — a glint in your eye that Max surely got.
“Maybe you're right, I’ll move to Mercedes then” Max joked back. You laughed along making sure to slap his chest with faux disapproval.
Your humor matched Max’s and learning each other’s boundaries was easy.
“Oh, you better not!” You exclaimed exaggerating. Max continued to laugh along.
“Seriously, Y/N. Will you please be my girlfriend officially ?” Max’s voice then held seriousness and a little bit of uncertainty. He looked directly into your eyes, never breaking eye contact.
You took a deep breath.
“In one condition, we will not keep our relationship a secret. If we are truly to do this, we are not hiding from anybody. “ your voice started to tremble as you went on.
A soft understanding smile fell on Max’s face. He knew exactly how much you’d suffered from your previous relationship.
“ I want everyone to know that you’re mine and that they have no chance with you. You’re mine to keep. Schat”
Your face burned red. You didn’t think that Max calling you pet names would be that attractive. But you were so wrong.
You loved how Max said it, loving how he was solely looking at you as he uttered the endearment in his mother tongue.
“Well then, boyfriend. How about we talk about it with our boss? Hm,” You insisted, for your sanity’s sake. You hoped that Max understood your dilemma.
“Already did” Max grinned down at you. Your eyes grew wide. Max did what your ex couldn’t do in years. You were frozen in shock.
And he took the opportunity of your surprise as his hand found its way to yours, and he pulled you somewhere.
“I was interested in you for a while, but you were with Lewis. But when you broke up, I took my chances and I already notified Christian just in case.“ Max explained as he continued to gently guide you somewhere.
“Well I didn’t know that Max Verstappen had a crush on me” As you said those words, Max suddenly stopped causing you to hit his back.
Then he started to look at you with both astonishment and disbelief. And you find the expression cute on Max.
Suddenly, he took your face in his hands and squished your cheeks — shocking you in the process.
“Y/N L/N . I was flirting with you every chance I got. When you visited me at the clinic after my crash, I thought that I was hallucinating ” Max said seriously, his piercing blue eyes gazing into yours.
“You probably were hallucinating a tiny bit, that was a big crash” You added —Max recognized the guilt in your voice. You still blamed yourself a little bit for that.
“Y/N, Schat. That was not your fault. Please stop blaming yourself. Now come, We’re going to Newey, He wanted to talk to you” Max’s hand found its way to your lower back, guiding you towards the double doors that lead to a glass office.
You felt goosebumps travel up your arms. Max’s attention made you feel cared for and you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach.
“Wow…. Adrian Newey wants to talk to me. Wait, but how about Christian? He’s probably waiting in the lobby! “ you suddenly remembered that you were supposed to be waiting for your team principal in the lobby.
“I’ll let him know that you’re busy with Newey,” Max said as he kept nudging you into the office towards another door near the back.
You couldn’t help but chuckle, F1 drivers did tend to be spoiled. And Max wasn’t immune to that. Not when everyone at Red Bull loved their champion contender.
As Max opened the door, there sat Mr. Adrian Newey scribbling in his famous notebook.
You were dumbstruck, it was always a dream to work with the legend that is Adrian Newey.
Your fascination with developing and designing cars was one you held most deeply. However, even when you were a head race engineer during your time with Mercedes — your inputs were never taken seriously.
“ Newey! I’ve brought Y/N, as requested “ Max beamed as he was excited for you. He knew how much this meant.
Adrian looked up from his notebook — his eyes found Max and then it settled on you. You suddenly grew nervous and your palms started to sweat.
“Ms. Y/N! It is my pleasure to finally have you on board!” Newey smiled at you, as he offered his hand.
You quickly shook his hand, still amazed.
“It’s an honor to work with you, Sir! It’s my pleasure” you gushed like a fangirl. Max looked at you with fondness.
“Just call me Newey or Adrian, Ms. Y/N. “ He offered as he stood from his seat and went near you and Max.
“Only if you’d call me Y/N” you offered back with a huge smile still on your face
“Max, you may go. I only need Y/N here” Adrian waved his hand in a shooing manner towards the Dutch driver, who was now pouting.
“Fine, I’ll be back later. Bye, Adrian.” He said towards the developer.
“I’ll see you later Schat.” Max bid you farewell and left — but not without kissing your forehead.
“Well, Y/N I need your input towards the car I’m developing for next year. “ You suddenly grew giddy and excited as Adrian uttered those words
You were going to help in developing a car!
“ What do you say Y/N are you up for it? Will you help me with the RB18?“
“Let’s make a rocket ship, Adrian” You couldn't help but show your excitement as the smile on your face widened.
***
United States Grand Prix
It was finally qualifying. The paddock was bustling with people walking all over trying to find their seats and drivers talking to their engineers inside their garages.
It was officially your first time being Max’s head race engineer. And from the practice sessions yesterday, you were glad that everything went smoothly with Max.
You were confident in your paring as driver and engineer; he trusted in your decisions and you honored his every feedback. You two were like clockwork, everything fell into place.
And so you weren’t worried for Qualifying at all. You knew that Max was ready. You made sure of it.
You were already seated in the pit wall as Max was talking with Christian inside the garage.
When suddenly, you received a text. It was from Lewis. Your forehead scrunched as your eyes fell into the Mercedes Garage; Lewis was not inside.
After a few minutes of Contemplating, you decided to answer.
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What the fuck was that??!! So many thoughts filled your mind. Was Lewis telling the truth? Was he lying Why did text he you now? Out of all times.
Was this a tactic to psych you out? To take you out of your focus and fuck with your reasoning. Was Lewis desperate enough to use such devices just to beat Max?
You knew that Mercedes was capable of using cheap shots to put themselves ahead and from what you’ve seen from Lewis recently… he was capable of the same.
You continued to stare at your text conversation. No , you won’t allow yourself to overthink. Not right now when so much was on the line.
You had to prove yourself to the world of motorsport that you were more than the Mercedes race engineer.
You won't allow them to fuck up your freedom, not again.
“Y/N? Are you ok?” You were cut from your thoughts by the radio message from Max. You didn’t realize that Q1 had already started and cars had started to come out of their garage.
“All good, thanks Max” You knew that it wasn’t the right time to tell Max. He needed to focus on— he needed to take pole.
And you will do everything in your power to lead him to that.
Mercedes and Lewis could wait in hell for all you’d care
“All right, Max. Just like we did in the simulation. You go first, then Checo will be right behind you”
“Copy, Y/N” Max was finally on his out lap.
“Radio check, Radio check. Final check”
“Loud and clear, dear” You didn’t expect Max to say that at all. Your face started heating up and your heart was beating way too fast and way too loud.
You knew that Max said that he wanted everyone to know but you weren’t expecting it so soon.
Trying to gain your professionalism back, you cleared your throat with a cough. You heard your team snickering from the sidelines — trying not to laugh at your flustered state.
“Funny Max, now back to focusing on the lap hmm?” You tried to play it cool.
“Will do, ms. L/N” The tone Max used was still playful.
In your other ear, you heard Crofty commentating.
“And that was Y/N L/N from the Red Bull pit wall, all friendly with Max Verstappen. It’s nice to finally have her back. It quite weird to see her in blue and red rather than silver, but everyone missed you Ms. L/N.”
Then suddenly Nico Rosberg had decided to join in with the slightly older commentator.
“She finally left her cage and Red Bull gave her wings! I’m kidding, I’m kidding. But it didn’t shock me that Y/N decided to explore more. From my time working with her, when she was my race engineer back in 2012– I was sure that she was up for greatness.
You were shocked by Nico’s statement. You were always led to think that your past with him had led him to hate you. So much ugliness had happened within Mercedes that you thought his opinion of you was bitter.
You two never had closure when he left the team so you assumed that he resented you like he did with Lewis.
And so you were more than shocked that he was praising you on live TV.
You shook your head and focused your mind on qualifying. It was your first race and it was time to earn your position at Red Bull.
“OK, Max. It’s time for a fast lap. Tyre temperature is at its optimal and there is no heavy traffic on track”
Max was a natural behind the wheel. It was as if the car was a part of him. He breezed past Q1 and Q2 perfectly, earning P2 and P1 respectively.
It was finally the last qualifying session.
“Max, how’s the car feeling?” You asked your boyfriend for feedback.
“The front could be sharper. And the rear needs to be tighter, I could feel the car snapping at turn 5” You checked your data sheet, and Max was right he was oversteering on turn 5
“Will look into it.” And with that, you and your team started to make some changes to the car, as per Max’s input.
“Abort the lap max, will do some changes to the car” you called on the radio. You knew that it was risky but you decided to gamble and do what your gut told you to do.
Your team fully believed in your call and supported your decisions till the end. Your adrenaline was pumping as Max pitted.
And without a hitch, Max was out again on an out lap.
It was almost near the Chequered flag when Max had finished his lap.
Your nerves were eating you alive and your foot hadn’t stopped tapping as Lewis crossed the line placing himself on top of the board.
You had faith in Max. You knew that he was going to earn back that pole.
Everything was down to this. One last push. Max was on his one last fast lap.
Your eyes glued on your screen, as the rest of Red Bull and the entire paddock held their breath.
Max had aced the first sector. Your heart started to pound once again, you could feel it in your throat.
The rain had started to pour in the pitlane, your nerves spiking. But you knew that your analysis was spot on — you didn’t have to worry about anything. Max was flying through the second sector.
One last sector. Your breath caught when he went wide but corrected instantly. You felt light drops of rain on your back but you did not care— as your eyes zeroed in on Max crossing the line.
Enormous cheers erupted as Max goes top of the board. He has won pole position over Lewis!
Claps and hugs were exchanged between your team. Wow, Max had won the pole position. In your first race as his engineer.
Holy shit. You excitedly radioed Max.
“That is P1 Max! Pole position. Congratulations!” You cheered for your boyfriend
“ Let’s go!! Thank you, everyone, for a mighty effort! Y/N! We make a good pair, don’t we” Max said as you saw him waving to the crowds from your screen. The double entendre not escaping you. You laughed along with your other engineers. Cheeky bugger.
The entirety of Red Bull knew of your situation with Max. How could they not? Max was like a puppy always following you in the building.
You watched as the two Red Bull drivers parked their cars in Parc Ferme in their corresponding places. You couldn’t help but fawn over the Dutch Driver as he stepped out of his car towards the interviewer. Max looked amazing in the spotlight.
The camera then zeroed in on David Coulthard and Max who was now holding a mic — a smile on his face as he went on with the post-quali interview.
“Congratulations on the pole position, Max! That’s your 7th one this season! How are you feeling?” David questioned Max.
“I feel great! Another lovely position for the team with me Checo in front of the grid. The team’s effort was extremely excellent today, I have no complaints. And we hope that we can turn this pole into a win tomorrow” Max answered like how he was trained to do. The PR team will be celebrating this as well.
“We’ve heard that you had a change of your head race engineer to Ms. Y/N L/N, how are you finding the shift?” David continued to gauge the Dutch driver
Everyone at Red Bull held their breath. It was decided that your relationship with Max albeit not kept secret to anybody — it would be best to keep it on the low. Until everything with your issue with Mercedes dies down.
Ironically, you agree with them. You didn’t want to drag Max’s name along with yours. You needed to set things straight with Mercedes first. Cut and burn bridges that didn’t do you any good.
You waited for Max to answer the question.
“Y/N has been an absolute delight. The learning curve and transition were seamless, She knows what I want in the car and she delivers.” Max answered with a smile.
“Well Max, congratulations again on the pole! Thank you so much and good luck tomorrow “
Then the camera zoned in on Lewis. He got P2 on the race and he seemed pissed, like anytime he’ll explode.
“Lewis, congratulations on P2! That’s the front row for you! You were two-hundredths of a second behind Max. How was the car for you?”
Lewis’ composure was dissolving by the minute as he tried to answer.
“ I had issues on the last sector, the car was a little too sharp for my liking. But we will utilize what we have” He gruffly answered.
“ I assumed that your change of race engineer hadn’t been as smooth as you expected. How is it working with Bonno instead of Y/N?”
Lewis’ jaw tightened as his hand flexed over the mic that he was holding. People had started to murmur and suddenly the camera panned on Toto then it was suddenly in you.
You were shocked, but you didn’t let anyone see. You looked directly into the camera tauntingly and smiled — innocently waving your hand. Dressed proudly in your Red Bull uniform and your headset lazily hanging around your neck.
“Bonno had been great. He just right for my style of driving.” Lewis plastered a smile. You saw right through Lewis’s lie. No one could fully understand Lewis driving other than you.
You couldn’t help but smirk and you looked back at the data sheet on your screen.
Mercedes didn’t know what’s coming to them.
***
“Why do you suddenly need the medical records , Lewis? You and the other drivers did something stupid. You got high It’s best to keep that buried” Lewis was inside the Mercedes clinic talking to the resident doctor.
He couldn’t seem to push it aside. Everything seemed weird. He was so sure that he just drank and he didn’t participate in anything like drugs.
“You don’t understand, James. Someone framed me and slipped something in my drink”
James , looked at Lewis in both shock and confusion.
“ Are you sure? Lewis this is a serious accusation. We might need to bring this up to the FIA” Lewis only nodded
“I’ll contact the Doctors from the other teams. I’ll report back to you. But when I do find something,..I need to tell Toto. “
“Fine”
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ynbabe · 1 day
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LOGAN FIC REQ!! (i love your messages au smmm btw THEYRE SO GOOD AHH) ok anywayssss
can you pls do logan x super super famous!reader.(preferably an actress but i don't mind any) so both of them are dating but are trying to keep it a secret since they've only been dating for a short amount of time. one night they decide to go on a date but paparazzi was there and it was going VIRAL. reader regrets not double checking if there would be any paps. sooo then everyone starts investigating on logan as the internet does and since everyone doesn't watch f1, they only see logan crashing and blah blah blah so they see him as a "bad driver" and he starts getting A LOT of hate because people think reader deserves better. they also start comparing him to reader's "more better and famous ex". reader and logan take time off social media and people think they broke up until reader releases an instagram post defending him and yeah a lot of fluff and hurt/comfort.
idk if this made sense but pls feel free to change anything!! again i love your work sm 💕‼️
Hiiii, omg thank you so much! Love love LOVE the fic idea and without any further ado- here's the fic, it isn't exactly as the prompt but I hope you love it-
Keep my wife's name OUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH ୨୧ Logan Sargeant x famous! reader
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As a celebrity, you don’t often have the privilege of privacy. The cameras seemed to follow you everywhere, from outside your house to the restaurants you ate at and even to private celebrations with your friends and family.
Your last relationship had gone south exactly because of the paparazzi, making assumptions about the seriousness of your relationship and even spreading pregnancy and marriage rumours, scaring the man away.
You had wanted to take it slow, heart broken from your previous relationship but then you met Logan and for the first time in a long time you felt like you could breath, like you could do what you wanted without being judged.
You knew who he was and he knew who you were and that was perfect.
The both of you had spent a perfect week in your villa in Bali, it had been risky but no one caught on, surprisingly.
You thought your luck would continue and you threw causation to the wind, not asking your assistant to check for paparazzi at the sushi restaurant you were going to in Shanghai.
Unfortunately, you were caught just as you were leaving the restaurants waking up to a host of notifications, some good and some gut-wrenching.
Logan on the other hand tried not to throw up, his eyes wide, you could tell he was scared. Would his team drop him? No, no. Why would they? Right? Oh God.
"Logan, Logs, baby are you okay?" You called out, dropping to your knees and cradling his face in your palms.
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f1waglife
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f1waglife Y/n nation how are we feeling tonight? Logang? How are we? This was definitely not the couple we expected but is this the couple we deserve?
Username OH HELL NAW- WHY IS THIS FLORIDA MAN DATING QUEEN Y/N?????
Username Y/n come home the kids miss you
Username Omg mans is in love
Username Get someone to look at you the way Logan looks at Y/n
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You saw some of the comments and while some made you smile, some made you want to slap a bitch, unfortunately, a scandal would not help, so you called up your PR manager, and the post was gone within a minute.
Logan's race had gone sour, with him getting an unfair penalty and points on his licence. The already poor start to your day had turned even worse when you saw Logan tiredly storm into the room collapsing on the bed, burying his face in his pillow.
"What... the..... fuck?" He screamed into the pillow making you smile a little. The small habit he'd picked up from you, screaming into the pillows as a way to think, one that you had picked up from one of the characters you played a long time ago.
"Why do people even care about who's dating who? That's so stupid." He rolled his eyes.
"Don't we binge Keeping Up with the Kardashians every Monday?" You asked.
"That's not the same though-" He paused and switched his phone off, he already didn't have access to his own Instagram, having given access to his manager a long time ago, he now didn't even want to talk to his friends or colleagues many of whom just wanted an autograph from you along with an explanation how he could be with you.
He turned around, pulling the blanket on him, tired from the day.
You pulled up Twitter as a habit but were greeted with a terrible chain of tweets judging every aspect of your relationship and even worse criticizing Logan without even knowing anything about the sport.
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"What the fuck-" You cursed out loud, you knew your fanbase was slightly (an underestimation) larger than your boyfriends but how could they call themselves your fans, when you have been a fan of Logan's since his first season in f1? All your co-stars American or not knew your borderline obsession for the man, every race week you'd be posting Williams on your story, how could they still hate on him?
You looked next to you, where your boyfriend was sleeping a small scowl on his pretty face.
PR be damned, he didn't deserve this.
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y/nl/nofficial
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y/nl/nofficial To anyone who calls themselves my fans and talks shit about my lovely boyfriend, UNFOLLOW ME ASAP. Logan is the kindest, sweetest, most talented man I've had the pleasure to know and he deserves better than the bullshit he gets from some assholes who don't know anything about him. To quote my friend Will: KEEP MY WIFES NAME OUT YOUR DAMN MOUTHS-
username oop sis snapped
username you tell em girl
username LOVE a gf whos rabidly in love with her bf
username now why would y'all try and shame Mother's boyfriend when all she does is post about him for race weekends??
username fr shes been a logan fan before logan fans have been logan fans
Williams We stan a protective gf 😮‍💨
username admin you'll always be famous y/nl/nofficial Cant help it he looks really pretty in blue 🥰 username oh she in love love
username shall we start calling him Father?
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The way I was struggling to write this fic cause I had to write bad things about Pookie Bear Logie is insane. But- I hope yall like it, please do let me know in the comments or reblogs!!!
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givemequeen · 2 days
Text
the artist; spencer reid x reader
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request: Hello! It’s me again. :) I have a concept but I’m unsure about a plot, if that’s okay. Could you maybe write a Spencer x Fem!Quiet reader who likes to draw? And Spencer always sees her doodling on her papers while she’s bored like flowers and eyes and stuff? And sometimes she draws the team while they’re working but one day Spencer sees her drawing him and he confronts her very politely and she’s all flustered and blushing? I don’t know if it’s something you’re comfortable with, I just like to draw and if I worked with the FBI that would definitely be something I would do if I was bored. 😄🫶🏻 Thanks a ton!!! I love your writing.
a/n: i love spencer sm. i rly hope this is what you were looking for! thanks for the request :)
It had all started with some fun doodling; a couple of fun little drawings here and there when things were slow or during long flights. It hadn't been anything serious. Then, you attempted drawing landscapes; mountains, buildings, anything. Not just silly doodles.
Drawing helped you pass time, you enjoyed it and, if you said so yourself, you were quite good at it. Drawing people had always scared you, you weren't sure if you could get it right so you started with strangers, people on the bus or tram, in long queues, at cafes.
On one particularly long flight to Seattle you had drawn Hotch. His hard stare and furrowed brows as he read over a case made him easy to draw. Then it was Garcia, her bright smile brought you comfort. Then Rossi and JJ and Morgan.
And finally, Spencer, the cutest member. You could definitely see why Morgan called him pretty boy. His soft lips and hair beautifully juxtaposed his sharp jawline and slim fingers.
He was you're favourite to draw. You had around half a dozen drawings of the team by now; some individual, some in groups. But, your best drawings where those you had done on Spencer.
"Wow. You're really good." Spencer voice made you jump, nearly spilling your coffee over your drawing.
He had just gone to the jet's bathroom - you had been careful to hide your work as he passed by you.
"Spence!" you yelped, moving to clean up. "You scared me." you pressed your sketchpad against your chest, hiding your drawing from sight.
"May I see?" he leaned over and stretched out his hand - that gorgeous, slender hand of his. The one you had a couple drawing dedicated to in the very sketchpad he was reaching towards.
"No!" you said, a little too quickly. "I- erm-"
"Oh, that's okay, sorry for asking." he straightened up. "I just... well I thought that was a really good drawing. You made me look quite nice." his voice was soft, no one else could hear you.
Apart from the looks from that initial scream, no one was paying any attention to you two, everyone too immersed in their own thing to pay attention. You looked around, confirming no one was watching, and moved over in your seat.
"Sit." you said, patting the space beside you.
Spencer sat down, his thigh warm against yours, and smiled at you.
"Here." you offered him your sketchpad and hid your face in your hands, too ashamed to watch his reaction.
He opened the first page and oohed. You peaked between your fingers, wondering what he was looking at. It was your very first doodles. He pointed out some and smiled; his revolver, his favourite book, Morgan's headphones, Garcia's pens.
"I really like these." he said.
"Thanks." you mumbled.
He turned the pages, his fingers feeling the bumps and ridges of the drawing. He was particularly fond of the one you did of Vegas' skyline.
"That's amazing." he said, more to himself than to you.
You pulled away one of your hands and leaned over to him. His scent was overpowering in the best way possible; coffee, old books, and that new cologne he had been trying out.
He finally got to the one you made of Hotch. Spencer laughed out loud, looking up to his boss and laughing even more.
"Identical! Same expression." he whispered in between laughs.
"Thank you." you said, a smile appearing on your face.
"Oh and Garcia..." he laughed. "The same smile..."
He passed the pages - the first drawing you had done of Morgan made him laugh again. It had been of him flirting with Garcia; you had nailed his wicked grin.
Finally, he flipped the paged onto his section of the book. The first one you had done of him he had been reading a book, his fingers pressed against the pages and he read page after page.
"Oh wow." he whispered. "That's... it's amazing. You're such an artist. How did you manage it?" he turned to look at you.
"Oh, well, I dunno." you bit the inside of your cheek. He wasn't mad you had drawn him without permission or something? "You like it?" you asked.
"Of course! They're amazing." he reached out to squeeze your hand. "You're amazing. I'm really impressed."
You stared at your joined hands and your heart skipped a beat. "Thanks." you stuttured.
Spencer let go of your hand and went back to passing the pages. The next drawing, he had been fast asleep, an open book resting against his chest. He laughed at that one too, making some comment about how ridiculous he looked.
"Well, I thought you looked cute." you whispered, scared he might actually hear you.
"Yeah?" he said, looking over at you.
"Yeah." you said.
Spencer was blushing. He quickly looked away and flitted through the rest of the pages. He was especially impressed by the one of his hands ("wow, I had no idea they looked so..." "beautiful?" "creepy").
He closed the book gently and handed it over to you.
"I'd love to get a copy of some of those, if you don't mind." he was so close to you, you were afraid he could hear your heartbeat.
"Yes- no- I mean, I don't mind. I'll send you the original." you were having trouble trying not to stare at his lips for too long.
"You'd do that?" Spencer asked.
"Of course, since you were such a good subject." you laughed and stared into his soft eyes.
"I'd love to be an actual subject for you one day, since you're so good at it." he moved to stand up and you nearly whined as his warmth left you. "If you ever need a subject, let me know." he flashed you that sweet smile of his and made his way back to his seat.
You couldn't believe what had just happened. It took everything in you not to squeal and dance around like a teenage girl. You pressed your sketchpad against your chest and buried yourself deep into your seat, already thinking of all the poses you could get Spencer into.
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