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razzle-zazzle · 6 months

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Whumptober Day 20: people don't change people, time does

Found Family

4390 Words; Pooter Pile AU

TW for child abuse, attempted murder, unethical experimentation, blood mention

AO3 ver

“Gisu!”

Gisu looked up at the sound of the door slamming open. Dion let his leg fall back to the floor, his arms securely wrapped around the book he was carrying. Gisu felt a trickle of amusement as Dion stalked over to her, slamming the book on the desk.

It had only been two days since Raz ran off. Dion had come to surprisingly quickly after being thrown like that—maybe it was an acrobat thing. But he had had the worst headache, so it was nice to see him moving with his usual energy, again.

It’d be even nicer if Raz hadn’t run off, but still.

“I know where Raz went!” Dion exclaimed. “Is trying to go. Whatever. But I know where it is!” He flipped the book open, revealing it to be a photo album. Gisu got only a moment to glance at what she assumed were Dion’s baby pictures before he flipped to the page he wanted. “There.” He pointed at the picture of the family all assembled before the Aquatodome—it must have been a few years old, because Gisu couldn’t see Queepie anywhere, but she could see a much younger Mirtala held aloft in Donatella’s arms.

“Cute photo.” Gisu commented, totally not focusing on the massive grin on younger-photo-Dion’s face. “What makes you think Raz is going there?”

Dion pointed at the photo—at the background of the photo, Gisu realized, his finger tapping the mountain dominating the landscape. “When Raz hit me with his… psychic thingy, I think…” He trailed off, searching for the words. “Psychic bullshit involves mind stuff, right? Like thoughts and feelings.”

“Yeah…” Gisu nodded.

“And I’ve been seeing the same fucking mountain since he hit me,” Dion continued, “Which means it’s probably, like, an afterthought of it.”

“After-effect,” Gisu corrected.

“Yeah, that.” Dion agreed. His hands moved as he spoke and paced around, and it was utterly fascinating, even as his words kept coming out stream-of-consciousness style. “So I keep seeing this mountain, and it’s so familiar, like an itch in the back of my mind, yanno? So I start digging through our old albums, because I swear I’ve seen this mountain somewhere before, and I know it’s important, so I kept searching and—”

“And then you found it?” Gisu asked, trying not to let too much fondness creep into her voice. A little bit is okay, but it’s too early to be getting sappy.

“Yeah!” Dion nodded emphatically, once again by the desk and tapping the photo. “It doesn’t look exactly the same but I know that that’s the one. That’s the mountain that Raz is going to.” He looked at Gisu with so much intensity that she thought he might burst, and said, “I keep feeling like I need to go there.”

Gisu leaned back in her chair. “Do you?”

“Yes!” Dion threw his hands in the air. “No? I don’t know!” He paced a small half-circle, “But that’s where Raz is. Is going. I’m sure of it!” He turned to Gisu once again. “I don’t know what to do about this.” He admitted. “I don’t know who I’m supposed to tell.”

“Well, I think—” Gisu stretched, getting out of her chair. “—that what happens next is obvious.”

“Really?’ Dion lit up. “I knew you’d know what to do! You’re really smart like that.” His face flushed, and Gisu had to take a moment to fight off the butterflies in her stomach and the heat on her own face.

“Yeah.” She smirked, grabbing Dion’s wrist. She started pulling him back towards the door.

“We’re going on a field trip!”

+=+=+=+=+

Three huffed as he leaped up over a boulder, his levball making the jump easier than climbing up by hand. Even still, this was exhausting.

But it needed to be done. He only had a little bit further to go, anyway—it had taken him a week just to get this far, and the sun had long set behind him, and he couldn’t waste anymore time.

Really, though, did Ms. Naumann have to build her lab halfway up a mountain? Three had his levball to help, but this was ridiculous.

Still, there was nothing Three could do. He just had to get there, and make everything right. So he’d do it, even if it was tiring.

He had to.

+=+=+=+=+

“I think we made pretty good time!’ Gisu chirped. And really, they kind of did. Five days to make a trip spanning across a few states—thank god for comprehensive bus routes. And her levboard. Couldn’t forget how important her baby was to this whole operation.

“I’m still not sure how you convinced me to go along with this.” Dion muttered, staring up at the mountain looming before them, the sunlight behind him casting his face in shadow. “Or why we’re doing this alone.”

“Because it’s faster that way.” Gisu offered, already setting up her board. Sure, they could have a nice little hike up the trails, but they were here on a mission. Raz had a two-day headstart—they couldn’t waste time. “C’mon.” She held out her hand, and Dion took it. Grumbling under his breath but joining her on the levboard regardless. “Let’s go find Pooter.”

+=+=+=+=+

Three crawled through the vents as quietly as he could. Benefit of the lab being half-underground, he supposed—the vents themselves were surrounded by solid rock, making them more than capable of supporting his weight.

So he crawled along, his mental link with Four helping him navigate to the bunks without issue. It took a while, and he had to wiggle a bit to get through some of the tighter turns, but he made it.

The room the clones all slept in was halfway into a natural cavern, of sorts, with a large open space above the beams holding up the lights. Three telekinetically undid the screws on the vent cover, and quietly removed the panel, holding it in the air to keep it from clattering on the ground. He crawled out onto the bunk bed directly below it, the top cot softening the impact. Once he was clear, he replaced the vent cover, but set the screws to the side—this would be his exit.

“Three?” Four’s voice cut through the room—the lights were off, right now, but Three could already feel his brother’s mental presence beginning to surge.

“Four!” Three practically lunged for his brother, his arms wrapping around Four’s shoulders with all the strength he had. I missed you I’m so happy to see you again I missed you I missed you I missed you

“Three!” Four returned the hug, pulses of missed-you and ribbons of golden elation flowing through their connection. I missed you I’m so glad you’re safe I missed you I missed you I missed you

Eventually, Three pulled back. His face crumpled, his eyes stung, and he slammed his face back into the crook of his brother’s neck. “I missed you.” He murmured, his thoughts echoing the notion.

“I missed you too.” Four returned, echoing back the same. He pulled back. “You gotta be quick,” he started. “Ms. Naumann’s been acting really weird lately.”

Three took a breath. Right. No more tears—mission now, sad later. “Weird how?”

Four winced. “Like she’s scared of something.” He mumbled. “I think…” He tried again, “She told me to call you back in a few days. I think… I think she’s going to terminate us.”

Three’s blood ran cold. The world pressed in on him, crushing weight squeezing all the air from his lungs—

Three scowled. “That’s not going to happen.” He declared. “We’re going to get Six and Raz and we’re going to get out of here.” He was done being scared of Ms. Naumann. She was wrong. She was wrong and Three felt none of the respect he’d had for her. She was wrong.

Four nodded. “It’s this way—” he started—

Something fell from the beams above to the floor beside them with a thud and a grunt, making Three and Four flinch back in surprise. The figure uncurled, groaning as it stood—

“Wh—how did you get here?” Three whisper-shouted. “Why are you here?!” Of all the—for the sake of—really? Of all the people who could have somehow followed him, it was Dion?

“Raz.” Dion started, “You have ten seconds to explain—” He stopped short, his eyes darting between Three and Four.

“Why are there two of you?” Dion’s voice went up a few notches, grating against Three’s ears. He was looking back and forth between the two of them, confusion leaching off of him in waves.

Three put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Look, Dion, I promise I’ll explain everything later.” He said, trying to ignore the way Four was starting to vibrate next to him. “When we have time.” He promised. “But I need you to not mess everything up right now—”

“Uh uh.” Dion interrupted, hands on his hips. “No way. I’m not doing anything until you explain yourself.”

“We don’t have time—” Three insisted, gritting his teeth. Why couldn’t he have been followed by someone with sense, like Frazie? Frazie was cool.

“I’m not hearing an explanation.” Dion hissed. “So I’ll ask again: What the fuck is going on here?!” he demanded—

“I find myself wondering the exact same thing.”

Three froze. Dion’s eyes were wide as he stared at the doorway behind Three. Oh no. Oh no.

Three turned around slowly, like the air around him was suddenly full of glue. Oh no no no.

None other than Ms. Naumann stood there, her lips pressed into a thin line. All of Three’s resolve dissolved under her gaze, like a wadded up napkin being tossed into the trash. Oh no.

“And who are you?” Ms. Naumann turned her attention to Dion, who looked as much like a deer in headlights as Three and Four felt.

“...very confused.” Dion admitted.

Ms. Naumann raised a hand to the bridge of her nose. “Right.” She sighed. Her hand moved to her temple, her look of resignation turning to one of concentration.

Three yelped in surprise as an arm wrapped around him, lifting into the air in a single burst of motion. Ms. Naumann shot a psi-blast, and Dion ducked under it to slide out the open door behind her, not once losing momentum even as he leapt up into a run, Three and Four tucked against his sides.

“Which way do I go?” Dion demanded, as Ms. Naumann’s footsteps echoed behind them.

“Left!” Four shouted, even as Three’s head spun trying to remember the layout. Dion skidded to a near-halt at the next intersection, deftly using his shed momentum to pivot into a turn to the left. “I still want an explanation!” He nearly screeched, following Four’s directions to duck to the right.

“Later!” Three reminded him. He squirmed in Dion’s arm until he was facing backwards, watching as Ms. Naumann came up behind them. “She’s gaining!” He shouted, and Dion picked up the pace.

“Do something then!” Dion made another turn, his grip on Three and Four tightening to keep them from slipping free.

Right! Three concentrated, lining up his shot—

Ms. Naumann’s eyes widened in surprise as Three fired. She ducked to the side, and the shot only grazed her—but she ended up stopping entirely, so Three still allowed himself a moment of silent victory. He was useful! Another shot brought down a light fixture, blocking her path. Even more useful!

Dion slid to a halt, the sudden stop jarring to Three. He squirmed, trying to see what had brought them to a halt—

“How do I open this?” Dion demanded, and Three managed to turn around entirely. They were blocked by a door—the playroom door, it looked like.

“Get me to that keypad.” Four said, and Dion moved to hold him up in front of it. Four tapped in the code—

Four hissed and pulled back his hand. “Dammit.” He muttered. “She changed it again.”

“Language.” Dion snapped. Three stuck out his tongue. Who was Dion to decide if his brother could swear? “Hurry up,” Dion added. “I don’t like how quiet it is right now.”

“I’m trying.” Four shot back, trying another code. Another angry beep as the pad flashed red. “Ugh, she changes them way too often.” He grumbled, moving to try another one.

Probably because someone’s just a little too clever. Three suggested, trying to squirm out of Dion’s grip. Four ignored his comment in favor of focusing on the keypad.

“Uh uh.” Dion adjusted his hold on Three. “You’re not going anywhere until we’re out of this mess.”

Three crossed him arms. He really wished it was Frazie who had followed him. How did Dion even find him?

“How did you even find me? You were out on the floor when I left.” Three poked Dion’s side.

“You’re the one who practically showed me where you were going.” Dion muttered, like it was somehow Three’s fault that he’d shown up to mess everything up.

Which… maybe it was, now that Three thought about it. He hadn’t even touched Dion when he’d sent him flying—if it was a burst of unfocused psychic power, then it probably ended up pushing Three’s thoughts into Dion’s head. Whoops.

Four hissed at another failed attempt. Dion tapped his foot against the floor impatiently. Footsteps echoed down the hall. Three gasped. “Ms. Naumann!”

“Okay, time to go!” Dion decided, pulling away from the door.

“Wh—no!” Four shouted. “Six is in there!”

“We’re not leaving him behind!” Three added, “Him or Raz!”

Dion froze. “What—”

The world tilted, and Three fell to the floor. He had only a moment to catch his breath before a telekinetic grasp grabbed ahold of him, too, lifting him up into the air to join a struggling Dion and Four.

“That’s enough of that.” Ms. Naumann declared, already turning on her heel. The hands followed after her, dragging the three of them along through the air.

“Well.” Four muttered, “shit.”

+=+=+=+=+

Well, shit. Gisu scooted further into the shadows. She and Dion had only found Raz—though apparently he was going by Three?—by chance, and then Dion had fallen down into the room the moment he spotted his brother. Who was greeting a second Raz.

And now this lady had showed up, and Dion had grabbed both Razzes and ran. Gisu had no idea how far he’d get, but she didn’t want to get caught, either.

Something that the Not-Razzes had mentioned caught in her mind, and she regarded the door carefully. Six and Raz? Did that mean that there were more Pooters here?

Well, it was as good a lead as any. Gisu levitated down to the floor, and poked her head out the still-open door.

The hallway was empty. Probably.

Carefully, Gisu crept out, holding her board tight against her side. If she concentrated, she could faintly feel Dion’s mind a ways away, frustration ebbing in and out of his mental signal. She wasn’t good enough with telepathy to hold a full conversation with him, though—she was too used to the person on the other end being psychic. Adam could probably hold a connection with seven people all on his own, and Morris was also pretty good at long-range communication—

But Adam and Morris weren’t here. Just Gisu and Dion.

Gisu huffed, casting her mind out further. She didn’t want to alert the scientist lady to her presence, but there had to be something she could use—

Aha! Her mind caught on something. On another mind—

…which reached back. Who are you? They demanded, their presence like waves crashing against Gisu’s mind.

Trying to help. Gisu responded, raising a hand to her temple to track down the other mind.

Like you could help me, the voice scoffed. Okay, rude. You just want Raz, anyway.

Yeah, that was what Gisu was confused about. Why are there so many of you?

The other end was quiet, for a moment, then—there used to be one more. But he’s gone now. A deep sense of melancholy washed over Gisu like waves washing over the sand. For a moment, she almost felt like sand, slowly being pulled into the depths of the anguish bit by bit.

Gisu shook her head to snap herself out of it. I’m sorry. She responded, that sucks.

Tell me something I don’t know. The other mind snarked. But really, why are you here?

Gisu concentrated on everything that had happened in the past several days. The birthday, the breakdown, Not-Raz running off, her and Dion’s chase to reach the mountain before him… as far as explanations went, it was probably really cluttered, a mix of feelings and memories and desires all packaged up into a bundle, with a lot of the needed context missing. But it was what Gisu had to work with.

… The other end was silent for a moment. Then—

A schematic—no, a layout appeared in Gisu’s mind, with a path highlighted in bright blue. Go here, it seemed to say, without saying anything at all.

Gisu followed the path, keeping an eye out for any wandering scientists. How she managed to get around without getting caught, she had no idea—

But she was doing it, which was good. She could worry about the potential implications of being able to seemingly run rampant later.

She came up on a metal door with a keypad to the side. It was flashing, the tiny screen above it saying something about failed attempts. But Gisu only grinned and pulled out her mini-screwdrivers—time to get to work. Pry off the cover, then the pad itself to get at the wires… snip those two wires and join them together…

The door slid open a few moments later. “Ha!” Gisu put away her tools, “Am I good, or am I good?” That was easy. Almost too easy, but Gisu was too busy riding the high of her success to care.

The room she stepped into was larger than the first one, with a small swingset installed at the other end. Mats covered the floor, there was a balance beam—

And there, sitting next to a slide and curled up under the steps, were two more Razzes, regarding Gisu with mild suspicion.

“Okay, which one of you is Pooter?” Gisu twirled her board in her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

The Raz under the slide pointed at himself. “I’m the original.” He said, his voice scratchy and tired-sounding.

“Six.” The other said, leaning against the red plastic.

“Right.” Gisu nodded. She had no idea what that meant—she could guess, though—but that wasn’t important. What was important was getting Dion and the other two and getting out of here. She slapped her palms together. “Time for us to blow this joint!” She declared.

“You mean it?” Raz asked, staring at Gisu with wide eyes. “We’re getting out of here?”

Gisu nodded. “Yeah!” She frowned. “Well, not without Dion,” She amended, “Or the other two.”

Raz blinked. “Dion’s here?” He stood up. “He’s not—he’s not still mad at me for running away, right? I can kind of see what the other mes see, but…” He trailed off, staring at the floor.

“He asked me to help troubleshoot his apology.” Gisu said flatly. “And I’m still missing a lot of the context here, by the way.”

“Oh.” Raz’ mouth worked, for a moment, as he looked for the words. “I ran away,” he started, “And I made it to Whispering Rock…” He contemplated, for a moment, before skipping ahead, “The other me and me swapped places at the Rhombus of Ruin.” He said.

“Oh.” Gisu clutched her board a little tighter. That was—oh. Suddenly, the exhaustion smeared under his eyes looked even more sad and pathetic, like a wet kitten alone in a box after all of the other kittens had been taken. Oh, this poor kid.

These poor kids, Gisu realized, looking at Six. She had heard Not-Raz respond to Three, and he’d called the other Four…

She had never heard anything about a One, Two, or Five.

“Well, this is your lucky day,” she decided, “Because you’re getting out of here. All of you.” Raz perked up at her statement. Good.

“It’s too late.” Six stated. “Three and Four got caught. They’re probably already on their way to being terminated.” He scoffed. “I’ll probably be next.”

Gisu swallowed. That… didn’t sound good. “We’ve still got to do something,” She urged.

Raz nodded, turning to Six. “Don’t you want to see the ocean?” He asked, “Because this might be your one chance.”

Six stared at Raz for a long moment. He scowled. “That’s not fair.” He muttered, standing up to join Gisu and Raz. “You can’t just use my weakness against me.” Still, he was no longer sitting next to the slide, so Gisu counted that as a win.

“C’mon,” She urged. “Let’s go kick that lady’s—”

“Ms. Naumann.” Six interjected.

“Okay.” Gisu started again. “Let’s go kick Ms. Naumann’s butt!”

+=+=+=+=+

Three had never been in this room before. There was a large glass tube—that Three and Four were immediately dumped into—and a control panel that took up most of the space, making the whole place feel cramped. Dion was set down in the only open space on the floor, hands cuffed behind him, and the door wasn’t able to slide shut with him sitting so close to it. He wasn’t conscious—Ms. Naumann had used a burst of mental pressure to knock him out when she drew blood. Three looked away from the bandage in the crook of his arm.

Three had never been in this room before. He could guess at what it was, though. His hands pressed against the glass while his heart threatened to pound right out of his chest—

Twin screams lighting up the shared headspace, hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt HURT—

“Please.” Three tried. Four leaned against him, his weight and his mind a steadying presence, but he may as well have been trying to steady a wobbling tower of cards on a rocking boat in the middle of a storm.

Okay, so that metaphor was wordy. Three was allowed to be wordy, he felt, when there was death looming over him.

“I can see this project isn’t working out.” Ms. Naumann muttered. “Perhaps I’ll have to put it on pause… or maybe taking up a second project will give me some much-needed variety.” She regarded Three and Four for a long moment, her cool gaze betraying not even a hint of the anger that Three could feel leaching off of her.

“You did well.” She said, reaching for the panel. “But I see you’ve been let loose for too long.” Her words sounded too practiced to be sincere, even though she would have only had to say anything. “I will make this as painless as possi—”

“Hey.”

As one, Three, Four, and Ms. Naumann turned their attention to the open doorway, where Dion was still unconscious to the side. Standing next to him was none other than Six, regarding Ms. Naumann with a blank expression.

Ms. Naumann returned to the control panel. “Return to the playroom, Subject Six.” She ordered. “This isn’t a place for clones.”

“No.” Six said, staring her down.

Ms. Naumann paused, turning to look at Six directly. “No?”

“No.” Six repeated, raising his hands.

Ms. Naumann’s voice cut off with a gasp as she fell to the floor, her whole body trembling. Six’ brow furrowed as he stepped forwards, his hands outstretched. “You’re an awful mother.” He declared. “And we don’t like you!” He swept his arms to the side, and Ms. Naumann slammed against the wall with a wheeze. Six’ arms dropped. Ms. Naumann fell to the floor.

“Dion!” And then Raz was in the room, standing next to Dion and fussing—

“Let’s get you out of there.” And there was Gisu, since when was Gisu here, staring at the control panel for a moment before slamming her fist down on one of the buttons.

Three flinched—

The tube opened up. Oh. Oh, thank god.

Three and Four wasted no time in making their way out of there, standing next to Gisu. The room was getting really crowded, now, there was barely any room for anyone to move around—

“You.” Ms. Naumann was already pushing herself up. “You insolen—”

A pair of shiny metal handcuffs thwacked off of her head, clattering to the floor. Three turned back to see Dion standing, muttering curses under his breath as he rubbed at the base of his thumb. “And stay down.” He added.

Ms. Naumann did not stay down. She hissed, and before Gisu or Six could do anything to stop her, she spoke. “Initiate System Shutdown, voice code 4-18-4-25-4.”

Alarms started blaring. Ms. Naumann disappeared with a pop, leaving them all crowded in that tiny room.

“Time to get out of here!” Gisu declared. Raz launched himself at Dion, who scooped up Four and Three in his arms once again. Gisu threw down her board, grabbed Six, and hopped on—Dion hopped on next. “Which way?”

“Down that hall, then take a right!” Four instructed, as Gisu’s levboard rocketed off down the halls. “Now left!” Three had to grab Dion’s vest to avoid falling off as Gisu turned—this was so much worse than when Dion had been running. But with the countdown blaring over their heads, Three didn’t have it in himself to say anything.

“And out that door!” Four pointed. But the door was closed!

Gisu raised her hand and pointed with two fingers. Lightning blasted out down the hall, hitting the door just moments before her levboard got there—

Her board flew out into open air, leaving the smoke from the blasted door behind them. The hidden lab rumbled, the whole mountain seeming to shake—

The whole world spun, Three tumbling right out of Dion’s grip as the board was flung forwards. He tumbled through the air and into the undergrowth, rolling across the ground before coming to a stop.

The sky was a brilliant shade of orange above him. Morning already?

Fuck, he was exhausted. The world was still spinning, a bit, and he could hear everyone shouting or groaning as they picked themselves up. Four was okay, though, and Raz was out—that was all that mattered.

With a tired groan, Three let his eyes slip closed.

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antimnemonic · 11 months

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*literally drawing ryoma* im having ryoma thoughts

#ok context for this train of thot is a sketch pile of an au abt the arc team somehow meeting a semi-corporeal ryoma #and i was thinking. towards the end of his natural life ryoma was kind of apprehensive abt the whole giant robot thing #i think that if he found out he somehow had a child and also that his best friends first impulse upon meeting the child #was to stuff him in the robot he would be ummm upset lol. OK hold on thisll be long #ryoma nagare #and it's like. ryomas fear was the getter turning the universe into an endless iteration of itself thru emperor #and imooo. arc has some Things To Say abt the cyclical nature of violence but ends too soon obvs #the easy thing to write would be that ryoma and takuma would meet and immediately be gung-ho violence guys #but there's a horror in knowing that you/your bloodline are gonna be stuck doing the same thing over and over #until the universe is literally destroyed #its also interesting to think abt this in regards to the Endless Reboots nature of mecha genre........#but yeah it's like. An Endless Fractal of Violence u kno??? YOU KNOW??????#and u can't struggle against fate bc struggling IS your fate!!!!!!!

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bipherpol · 11 months

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Nice songs! I like the way you think! I wish Kaku can rejoin Galley-La in the future, provided he apologizes, and Galley-La forgives him, of course. Who realizes that Franky and Lucci are going to be in-laws first? I just realized that I sent the Alice in Chains songs twice, so you get six songs this time! "Pictures of You" by The Cure, "One Thing" by Finger Eleven, "Skinny Love" by Bon Iver, "Whirring" by The Joy Formidable, "Tongue Tied" by Grouplove, and "Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men.

oh kaku is absolutely joining galley-la. they try to make him stay after enies lobby and he's like "no let's go be proper government traitors and give everything we know to the revs and then i'll consider it" this argument ends with the other six deciding that they'll do that and then promptly dump kaku on the next ship to water 7 regardless of whether or not he agrees. if necessary, they are not above tying him up to get him there. if that doesn't work, they could always ask kuma.

(kaku absolutely wants to go back but he also, y'know, doesn't want to just ditch the rest of them. meanwhile, the rest of them are like "oh my god please just ditch us and go. live ur childhood dream. pls. at least one of us gets to.")

honestly, the first one to realize the in-laws is probably one of cp9. or nami. actually no wait it's probably nami. she catches onto the whole franky/robin thing quick and then just kind of has a moment where she just mentally points between them and starts laughing her ass off because oh god. it's funny on so many levels, at least partially because the former government assassin is going to be in-laws with the head of water seven's big gang.

songs!! a: i love "pictures of you" it's so good. (the emo kid loves the cure, who's surprised) also oh god "tongue tied" i haven't heard that song since glee. (it is a good song though)

"toxic" by britney spears (who saw that one coming), "don't hold your breath" by nicole scherzinger aaand "unkind" by sloan

#personal headcanon that kalifa's childhood dream was to run a library cause she was canonically hella bookish as a child.#she takes over the rev's library/file room/whatever and forcibly organizes it and then beats that organization into everyone else.#they would be more annoyed but for the first time everyone can actually find things.#she 100% sets up the equivalent of a book return pile and tells anyone that if they try to put it back themselves that she WILL kick them #jabra and kumadori preemptively warn everyone else to just obey it #bc nobody wants to find out what kalifa's kicks feel like when she's mad #jabra learned the hard way the one (1) time he teased her after finding out her undercover role at galley la was a secretary #he did not make a secretary joke again #(nobody else ever made a secretary joke again and there are at least two people in the revs who are extremely grateful for it)#also trying 2 decide if i wanna have lucci take lami too during the marineford nonsense or if i should save that for later #fun fact: while i don't think the song itself fits as a whole #i have been itching to use a line from fob's 'you're crashing but you're no wave' for a fic title #specifically the 'hang on a rope or bated breath'#then again i also have a line from savage garden's 'to the moon & back' i wanna use to #which is the 'and crimes that were never defined'#the songs themselves are debatable but those lines specifically? yes #also in a theoretical au where cp9 did not inexplicably go back to the government after all that shit and wanted to go back to w7:#i present 'everything you've done wrong' by sloan #sibling verse

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sweetface-the-dollbaby · 1 year

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draw zombie nica please

i want to see your version :)

Ima draw her traditionally since I don’t have my iPad rn so-

alr here she issss

See tiff this is what happens when you try to perform amputation and don’t cauterize it soon enough and then fuck up the revival spell

#nica pierce #zombie nica pierce #au #chucky season 2 #her arms are uneven because Tiffany valentine is not a professional surgeon #adding nica to the pile of child’s play monster aus

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deadsetobsessions · 2 months

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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.3

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4][Pt.5][Pt.6]

“Aquaman.” Batman swept into the room, beelining straight for the suddenly apprehensive Atlantean king.

“Batman. What can I do for you?”

“Phantom. Does he pay taxes?”

“Pardon?”

Batman makes a low noise that had Aquaman’s danger senses buzzing.

“Does Phantom have to pay taxes. Towards Atlantis.”

“No…? Why?”

“He wanted money, in exchange for… information, of a delicate sort,” Batman said, diplomatically avoiding the topic of Phantom bargaining for the identities of corpses in exchange for a measly $100 dollars per identity. Like a flea market dealer, that one was.

“You encountered Phantom again?” Aquaman perked up.

“Yes. Gotham’s bay is… polluted.” Batman paused. “With victims. Of murder.”

The entire area quieted as heads turned towards the Dark Knight.

“Yes, I am… distantly aware of Gotham’s waters.” By that, Aquaman gets green around the gills whenever he turns his awareness in that direction. There’s a reason he doesn’t enter Gotham, and the Dark Knight’s ban is only half of that reason. “Ah, but you’re correct. For what purpose would Phantom need mortal currency?”

“Hn.”

“Maybe he needs some stuff?” Flash zipped to a stop next to Batman, feet tapping as he dug into the pile of snacks cradled in his arms. “Us mortals are always coming up with new things, maybe he wants to try some games or something?”

Batman tilted his head down, seriously considering Flash’s suggestion. “It’s plausible.”

“Barry, Barry, Barry. He’s old as hell, right? He probably wants to try the new booze!”

“Hal, my man!” Flash fist bumped Green Lantern, who came up. “You’re back! What happened to John?”

“Dunno. He got called somewhere that way,” Green Lantern waved a vague hand towards the left. “Had to deal with a politician or something from that area.” He shrugged, swinging an arm over Barry’s shoulders to put him in a headlock and stealing a chip.

“Huh. Anyways, would our mortal alcohol even work on a demi-god or something?”

“We should ask!” Hal turned towards Batman. “You should ask if he wants to go for a drink, spooky!”

“He’s a child.”

“He’s been around for more than a millennia, Bats.”

“Informational gathering, right, Hal?” Flashgot out of the headlock, quickly munching on his snacks to stop Green Lantern from stealing them.

“Totally. Yup.”

“…Fine.”

“Wait, are we just gonna ignore that Gotham’s waters are full of bodies?”

“Yes.”

——

“What?” Danny asked, mind half on the bags he’s dragging out of the water and the other half on the essay he has to submit in about four hours.

“Green Lantern wanted to invite you out for a drink.”

Danny turned to the stoic Gotham knight, who had his wrist computer out to log the bodies’ info the moment Danny gave him the information. Some of them even told Danny who murdered them, so Batman could start building cases with solid leads.

Danny’s only twenty. He’s not legal yet but he doesn’t want to give any clues to who he is. How is he supposed to…

Ah!

“Can’t.” Danny shrugged. “I’m not legal. I died when I was fourteen so…” Danny trailed off, speechless at the drowned puppy face Batman was giving him. What the fuck.

“Anyways, fork over my payment.”

Batman wordlessly hands him a wad of hundreds.

“What do you need cash for?” Batman suddenly asked.

“Huh? Isn’t it obvious?” Danny tucked it in. “Material things, obviously. I need a blanket,” because holy shit, Gotham is damn cold this time of year. “Anyways, see you same time next week, litterer.”

“I don’t litter.”

“Tell that to the batarangs I found under the water,” Danny grumbled. “But I’ll stop calling you that if you get a signature from Poison Ivy. I have a friend who loves her.”

“An alive friend?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?”

Danny snickered and disappeared. He’s gotta cram that essay.

——

“There’s a possibility Phantom might be homeless.”

“Batman, I mean this in the nicest way, but for the love of Atlantis, please stop giving me headaches. It’s time like these I wish I stayed a lighthouse keeper.”

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yeonzzzn · 1 month

Text

💙beautiful angel: sim jaeyun

2.0 of won’t give up on us for the off limits trilogy

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 2.1k

synopsis: after the birth of his daughter, jake takes on the responsibility of watching after her while you sleep and get the much needed rest after giving birth. jake and jay spend that late night reminiscing about old times and discussing the future.

genre: established relationship, older brother’s best friend!au, fluffy, suggestive talk.

warnings: swearing, jake and jay being down bad for daughter/niece, mentions of sex, pregnancy mentions, that’s probably it! ♡

✰ this a 2.0 to this trilogy, please see parts 1-3 under the title before reading this one. ✰

˗ˏˋseries spotify playlist´ˎ˗

Jake lets out a quick yawn, rubbing his right eye as his other holds Hwa tighter then wraps the arm back around her.

You were sound asleep on the hospital bed, completely exhausted from obviously birthing a child earlier in the day.

Jake rocked little Hwa in his arms, smiling over how soundly she slept like there was no care in the world.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jake saw Jay’s head fall from the hand he was resting on, jolting him awake. Jake tried to not laugh, not wanting to wake up his daughter.

“You can go home, man,” Jake whispers, “You’ve been here all day.”

Jay rubs his eyes, “You can go home.”

Jake scoffs, narrowing his eyes, “The fuck I will go home, my fiancé just birthed my daughter.”

“And my sister just birthed my niece.”

“Point taken,” Jake sighs, knowing damn well Jay wasn’t going to leave. As he said at the sports bar the night they watched the Formula One races, they were both fucked if you had a girl. And well, here you all were.

Jake assumed Jay was going to stay at the hospital as well once everyone else eventually piled out. They even had to ask the nurses to bring an extra recliner chair for him to sleep on.

Jay yawned, sitting up in the chair and stretching his arms above his head, “You sure you don’t want to go home?” Jake teased.

Jay flipped him the bird and stood up from the chair, “I’m going to the cafeteria, want anything?”

Jake nodded, “Surprise me.”

Jay left and came back quickly, carrying two chicken sandwiches, “They didn’t have much, since ya know. It’s two am.”

Jake shrugged, reaching a hand out for the sandwich, “I don’t care at this point I am just starving.”

Jay unwrapped the foil on the sandwich and handed it to Jake, “Need me to put Hwa in her little crib thing?”

Jake quickly shook his head, not being ready to let her go yet. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to snatch her away from his family and friends earlier, to yell at them that he wanted his daughter back in his arms. The protection Jake felt towards his daughter was insane. Wanting to bark and growl at anyone and everything that looked at her for too long.

Jay just rolls his eyes and sits back in his recliner across the room on the other side of your bed, “Well, I call dibs holding her after we eat.”

Jake glared at him, only for Jay to glare back.

“I’m just as crazy about her as you are man,” Jay hissed, “My family too.”

Jake decided to ignore Jay and take a bite of his sandwich. Jake knew he eventually had to get some sleep, mostly if he wanted to be awake when you wake up later.

So Jake eventually nods and swallows his food, “Fine, only because I need to get some sleep and I rather my daughter sleep peacefully in one of her family member's arms than that plastic hospital crib.”

Jay chuckles as he eats his sandwich, “I couldn’t agree more, brother.”

Brother. That word holds so much more meaning now than it did before. Jake went from being best friends with Jay to practically being brothers from how close they were, to being brother-in-laws. Jake will soon actually be related to Jay, and honestly, he couldn’t wait.

“It’s crazy how everything worked out,” Jake said, finishing the last bite of his sandwich, his hand that still held his daughter slightly squeezed her small body, “I still can’t believe it. Like I am waiting to be woken up from a dream.”

Jay just stared at his friend, watching how he smiled down at his niece and the tears swell in his eyes, “You know, I’ve never seen you cry as much as I have ever since you started dating my sister.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Jay laughs, finishing off his sandwich and standing from the chair, “But it’s not a dream, Jake. Trust me I tried to pinch myself awake after finding out you were messing around with my sister.”

Jake just shakes his head, “It just feels all so unreal to me. Like I’m a father now? Who would have ever thought about it.”

Jay just nods. It seemed so out of reach and impossible for the old Jake. The Jake who partied every weekend and was bringing many different women in and out of his bed, didn’t take college all that seriously and honestly only did it to stay with his friends. Jay saw a change in Jake the moment his sister arrived at the house during winter break all those years ago. You changed him, and it was for the better.

“Yeah it’s weird to think about,” Jay took Jake’s trash and threw it away, quickly washing his hands and making his way back to Jake, reaching his hands out for his niece, “My turn.”

Jake lifts Hwa up, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead and straightening out the blanket wrapped around her then sending her into Jay’s arms.

“Hello sweet girl,” Jay whispered to her, holding her close to his chest and placing a kiss on her forehead, “Uncle Jay has you now.”

Jake stared at his friend and daughter with endearment, “I love you all so much it’s insane.”

Jay carefully sat back into the recliner chair, lifting the leg up, “Same here, man. I love you all with every inch of my heart.”

Jake stood up and stretched, letting out another yawn before sitting back down and getting comfy in the chair, his eyes looking over to you, watching how your chest raised and fell with each sleepy breath you took.

“Stop looking at my sister like that,” Jay softly snapped.

Jake looked away from you, his eyes now piercing daggers into your brother, “Huh? That’s my future wife.”

“Yeah, and you’re looking at her like you want to impregnate her again.”

Jake smirks, “Because I do.”

Jay groans, “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Trust me, the moment I can, I’m putting another baby in her,” Jake knew these sex jokes were pissing Jay off, they always did. His big brother protective persona always came out. Even though Jake knocked you up and was now engaged to you, Jay still never wavered his protectiveness. And Jake was honestly happy about it.

“Remind me that I need to speak to her about getting back on her birth control,” Jay said with a roll of his eyes.

“I’ll just hide it.”

“Okay yandere Jake,” Jay chuckles, “Calm down.”

Jake laughs with his friend, enjoying every moment with him.

He glances back at you, smiling wide, “It’s crazy how things worked out.”

Jay was busy adjusting the blanket around Hwa, tracing a finger over her little face, “Yeah, things turned out how they were supposed to.”

Jake sat up in his chair, keeping his eyes on you, “Thank you, Jay.”

“For what?” Jay asked, leaning his head down to kiss Hwa’s forehead, smiling as she softly yawned.

“For walking into my life when you did,” Jake was truly, truly, thankful for Jay. Jake remembers the memory so fondly, sitting at the small table in kindergarten alone. Twirling his thumbs against each other as he watched the other kids in his class make the friends he was too shy to make.

“Why are you sitting here alone?” little Jay asked, nearly scaring Jake to death, “Don’t you have any friends?”

Jake just shook his head, looking away from Jay. Jake didn’t attend the same daycare these other kids did, everyone already knew each other or were social butterflies enough to make friends.

Jay sat down beside him, “Sunghoon, come here!”

Little Sunghoon stood up from the playing mat and waddled to the table, sitting across from Jay without so much as a thought. Sunghoon was shy too, but since he already knew Jay he felt comfortable.

“What’s your name?” Jay asked.

“Jaeyun…” Jake whispered, “But I go by Jake as a nickname.”

Little Jay just smiled, “I’m Jongseong, but my nickname is Jay. And that’s Sunghoon. We are your friends now. I have a friend in the first grade named Heeseung, he’ll be your friend too.”

And since then the four of them have been attached at the hip. Jake chuckles at the memory. Jay was also remembering the same memory, smiling and chuckling as well.

“You were so shy back then, I wonder what happened.”

“I became friends with you,” Jake teased, smiling even wider, “But it’s because of you, on why I am where I am right now.”

Jay nodded, looking back down at his niece, “Someone had to become friends with you.”

Jake rolled his eyes, slumping down into the chair. “If you never invited us to come back home with you, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

Jay nodded again, “Yeah, we sure wouldn’t be.”

Jay was honestly happy with how life turned out to be. He’s kept the same friends his entire life, had a perfect sibling relationship with you, you’re engaged to one of his best friends and now he’s holding his niece in his arms. Everything balanced out how it should have.

“I am glad it was you,” Jay said after a few minutes of silence.

Jake tilts his head into his hand, “Oh yeah?” he said through a yawn, “Glad it was me who became your best friend?”

“No,” Jay said with a pause, earning Jake to glare at him, “If you’d let me finish,” Jay hissed, “I am glad it was you who fell in love with my sister. You’ve given her a love no one else could. Nobody was good enough for my sister, not until you.”

Jake smiled, looking at you, “I am so in love with her. Thank you again for walking into my life when you did. For welcoming me into your family and for letting me love YN. You could have easily beat my ass and forbidden me from ever seeing her again. Thank you for accepting my love for her, thank you for letting me date her. She’s my soulmate, my everything,” Jake now looks at Jay, then sending his eyes to his sleeping daughter, “It’s because of you that I not only have the best friend a guy could ask for, but I met my soulmate so early on in life, and now I have a beautiful daughter. It’s all because of you.”

Jay tried to not let the word go to his head and let his ego boost further. Jay knew this was all because of him. But he was glad for it just as much as Jake was.

“Yeah, be grateful,” Jay teased.

Jake was about to comment but stopped quickly.

“Oh my god can you both shut up?!” you groaned, using all your strength to push yourself up to your elbow, “Some people are trying to rest!”

“Baby,” Jake said, quickly standing up to rush to your side, “Were we being too loud? I am so sorry.”

You secretly have been awake the entire time, listening to their conversations and cooing over your daughter. You kept praying they’d eventually just shut up and fall asleep.

You look at your brother, watching as he places more kisses all over Hwa’s face and suddenly you want nothing more than to hold her.

You reached your arms out, “Gimme.”

Jay didn’t want to give Hwa up yet but stood up anyway to hand her over to you.

You smiled down at your daughter, “Beautiful angel.”

Jake wrapped an arm around you, leaning his head against yours, “She is, isn’t she.”

Hwa has already received so many kisses since she was born, but you couldn’t help but press your lips to her forehead, sending every ounce of love you have into her skin.

Jake loved seeing you like this, so motherly. It turned him on, he had to admit.

“Let’s make another one when we get home.”

“Oh god here we go,” Jay groaned, sliding down the chair and crossing his arms.

“I’m telling you,” Jake chuckled, “I am going to knock her up again. I’ll have sex with her every single night over and over until she’s pregnant again.”

You tried to not laugh at seeing the look of pure disgust on your brother's face.

“I take back everything nice I said earlier,” Jay said with a pout.

“No you don’t shut up,” you laughed, “You love us.”

Jay nods, “I damn well do.”

Jake kisses your brow, “Let me get you pregnant again,” he whispers.

“At least get your own apartment or house first, jeez,” Jay sighs, “Our apartment is crowded enough.”

“Awe, but if we move out how can I tease you about our sex life?” Jake smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at Jay.

You tuned out the teasing argument between your fiancé and brother, putting your full attention to your daughter, watching as her small eyes flutter open and a yawn leaves her little lips, her eyes now locking with yours.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful angel.

—tags: @ikeuverse @slutforsjy @hanjisunginc @alvojake @lhsvibez @wonsbaer @zeeloveshee @jjknoir @jaeyunq @jaklvbub @woniebae @jeongingf1 @haelahoops @willgrysn @in-somnias-world @lovelyikeu @ilikekpop-c @moonrachas @misssparklyprincess @eddieeddiesblog @kaykay11sworld @tasnim10 @kangnina @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @mymemoriesandmelodies @iselltulips @jooniesbears-blog @shawnyle @brownsugarbaybee @woahsehun @laurradoesloveu @citylightsdoll @simjyunnie @cmoundiamante @caramelcandescence @lavenderiridescence @niniissus @wonniethepoo @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @fried-bread071696 @coolwitu @kyeoluvr @crimnalseung @jwnghyuns @woninluv @fakeuwus @simhinata

#jake bby #jake sim #sim jake #sim jaeyun #jaeyun sim #jake x reader #reader x jake #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #yeonzzzn writing #off limits trilogy

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andypantsx3 · 12 days

Text

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother, steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 5.7k | chapter 1 of 4

Then

It was a freezing day in spring the first time you set foot in the Todoroki house.

You had shared a class with Touya for years now, and in that time you’d become something of his best friend. You’d bonded early over a mutual hatred of fish and your status as the two best tree climbers on the playground—two integral friendship quality bars if ever you’d met them—and your entente had strengthened over the following months.

After enough time together Touya had even seemed to like you, seeking out your opinion, deploying you like a shield between himself and the other kids. He wanted to be paired with you for group projects constantly, as he seemed to disdain the ability of the other kids in your class.

He eventually acquiesced to two other friends—Rumi and Keigo—as Keigo was a really fast runner, and Rumi could kick a kid almost clear across a playground. But the two of you remained particularly close, and a few years in, Touya had seemed to want to check the final box of your friendship.

That was the day he’d haughtily informed you that you were coming home with him.

You’d phoned your mother from the school office to obtain permission, and then pulled your jacket on to follow Touya out into the cold, his skinny legs beating a quick path through the streets.

You’d half-expected that Touya lived in a box behind a shop, with the way he descended ravenously on his lunches (as well as yours, and Rumi’s, when he could occasionally get them—though notably not Keigo’s, something that had only retroactively made sense to you as an adult). But the house Touya steered you to was enormous—easily the biggest house you’d ever seen—a stately pile at the end of a fancy neighborhood.

You’d later learn this was because his father was the mayor, and the Todorokis were neck-deep in generational wealth. At the time you’d been mildly annoyed, because what had you let him eat part of your lunches for if he lived in a house like this?

“I’m home,” Touya had called into the echoey foyer, grand but strangely barren. He’d kicked off his coat and shoes, discarding them carelessly—perhaps purposefully—on the floor, then gestured for you to follow him into the kitchen as a warm voice called out to him. “Welcome home, Touya.”

“I brought Y/N,” he announced grandly as he prowled into the room. To you he said, “This is my mother, Rei.”

The voice you’d heard resolved itself into a woman, tall, with beautiful long white hair and a small, but unmistakably fond smile on her mouth. You startled, immediately floored by her beauty. She looked just like Touya, the same delicate prettiness to her mouth, the shape of her eyes—but even lovelier. She looked simultaneously like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, and would be embarrassed by one saying so.

She also smelled like an omega—sweet, but a little wilder than you were used to. Like spring flowers blooming on a cold day.

“Hello Y/N,” she said warmly, turning to you. You gave a shy wave back, suddenly nervous in front of her.

As she turned you finally noticed the child on her hip—a small, round, pudgy little thing with half red and half white hair, and two mismatched grey and blue eyes that pinned on you immediately. It was wearing a horrendous polkadot onesie, and you felt your eyebrows raise without your permission.

“That’s Shouto,” Touya informed you, and the pieces slotted together in your brain. Ah, so that was the face to the name.

Shouto was the little brother Touya complained about incessantly—the one that was his father’s favorite, the one that stared too much and wanted to play with all of Touya’s toys even though he was too little for them, the one Touya was saddled with babysitting constantly. He’d made Shouto out to be this sort of tiny harbinger of evil—but Shouto did not look very evil, perched there on his mother’s hip.

He blinked at you, a flutter of surprisingly long eyelashes, for a baby. You had the thought that actually he was kind of cute. Most probably not a harbinger of evil, and actually very sweet-looking, if weirdly round.

“I need to be excused from Shouto duty,” Touya said, the question posed more like a statement.

Rei shook her head, a somber little smile playing about her mouth. “I have to make dinner before Fuyumi and Natsuo get back from their playdates and your father gets home. Why don’t you take Shouto to play with you and Y/N?”

Touya rolled his eyes in the long-suffering manner of a man who’d endured it all. Shouto didn’t seem to notice, however, his mismatched gaze barely detaching from your face. You noticed Shouto’s left eye was the exact vivid blue of Touya’s, and his other eye the same silver as his mother’s.

“He’s staring like a weirdo,” Touya complained, but collected Shouto from Rei anyway. Shouto let himself be passed over as placidly as a bag of potatoes, still watching you.

“Y/N is a new face for him, he’s just curious, Touya,” Rei said, smoothing Shouto’s hair down as Touya hefted him in his arms. Shouto reached out a hand towards you, fat fingers flexing.

“What, you think I’m some taxi service who’s gonna bring you wherever you want to go?” Touya demanded. Shouto ignored him, his little chubby arm wavering.

Strangely, something compelled you to step closer, reaching out a hand in return. Shouto seized it in his pudgy little fist, staring up at you with solemn eyes. His other hand reached out to you, too, twisting in Touya’s grip, and Touya let out an annoyed scoff.

“Y/N didn’t come here to hang out with you,” he said. But Shouto ignored him, his little hand fisting in your tee shirt. He seemed to be trying to lever himself up out of Touya’s arms and into yours.

You were startled, never having held a baby before, and Shouto was kind of a big one. But Touya showed you how to hold him under his butt and across his back, and you heard the rustle of his diaper as he was handed off to you.

“Hi Shouto,” you said, watching him watch you.

His eyebrows raised, some small happiness lighting up his expression, and he gave a little kick that wiggled his whole body in your arms.

“He likes you,” Rei said over the counter top, as she settled a cutting board and a pile of vegetables across it.

You looked back at Shouto, feeling weirdly pleased. Maybe babies weren’t that bad.

Touya made an annoyed sort of grunt, stomping past you. “We’re going to play in the living room,” he announced imperiously. You glanced at Rei to make sure that was okay, then followed Touya, Shouto heavy in your arms.

By the time you arrived, Shouto had settled a hand on either of your cheeks and seemed to be trying to stare directly into your soul, and Touya patted him firmly on the back, clucking. “Stop being such a little freak.”

“He’s fine,” you said, bemused. No one had told you really little kids were this intense and weird. But Shouto’s little round face was kind of sweet, and it was hard to be annoyed at a baby staring up at you, that clearly enamored.

“Actually he’s being way nicer to me than you,” you told Touya.

Touya rolled his eyes and busied himself pulling out a horde of action figures, legos, puzzles, and games, as well as a turtle with multi-colored blocks set into it that appeared to be for Shouto.

“Oi, it’s turtle time, weirdo,” he told Shouto.

That seemed to break the baby’s singular focus on you, and he peered around, lighting up nearly the same way when he saw his blocks as he had when he’d seen you. You laughed, and helped him settle on the floor next to you, watching his clumsy, chubby grip fumble on the blocks as he carefully removed them one-by-one from the plastic turtle.

Touya set up the legos around you, an older parallel of his brother, though you thought he would kill you for saying so.

A block appeared in your lap, carefully and deliberately placed by a fat-fingered hand. You smiled down at Shouto, picking it up and gesturing grandly. “For me?”

A grey-and-blue gaze attached itself solemnly to your face, as if awaiting your judgment, and an instant fondness swept over you. Who knew babies could be this cute—when they weren’t screaming and crying and generally being small and annoying near you. Touya had massively undersold his little brother, who was the sweetest baby you’d ever encountered.

You bowed your head, clutching your gifted block close to you. “Thank you, Shouto. It’s very nice.”

Shouto stared up at you, smiling a shy little almost-smile, clearly pleased. You couldn’t help but reach up and ruffle that distinct tuft of hair, taken with him already. Yep, definitely a good little kid.

And you decided then and there that you liked Todoroki Shouto—though for now he was a child—you both were children—and he could only mean so much to you.

You wouldn’t realize how much he’d actually come to mean to you, until many, many years later.

Now

Touya’s white mess of hair was the first thing you spotted as you stumbled into the restaurant.

Outside it was unseasonably cold, an icy wind tearing through you as you’d rushed all the way from your mother’s house. The inside of the restaurant was blessedly warm, and slightly smoky from the meat and vegetables grilling away on each table top. Touya was on the far side, and you could see Rumi’s white hair beyond him, Keigo’s blonde riot of waves peeking over the top of the booth next to him.

Rumi faced the door so she spotted you first, a mouth-splitting grin overtaking her face as she waved you down.

You hurried your way over, letting out a surprised hrrk! when Rumi drew you down into a rib-crushing hug, her alpha strength barely contained. You fell into the seat at an awkward angle, your joints screaming.

“Well look what the cat dragged in! You don’t look a bit changed, you little beta cuck,” she crowed, making you choke on a laugh as you almost inhaled a mouthful of her hair.

“Rumi—!” you sputtered, half-pleased and half-scandalized that she clearly hadn’t changed in the years since you’d seen her last. She crushed you to her harder, and you could feel your eyeballs all but bulging like a rubber doll.

“If you plan to crush her to death you could at least wait until I clear the scene,” came Touya’s disaffected drawl from the other side of the table. “The last thing I need is police on my case again.”

That was so typical of him, too, after all this time.

“Good to see you too, Touya,” you said, even though you couldn’t get a look at him through Rumi’s hair. She ground her knuckles into the top of your head for good measure before releasing you, and you came up for air gratefully, watching the two men on the other side of the table grin at you.

Keigo looked exactly as you’d left him, a little bit more filled out than the skinny teen he’d been, the same wiry facial scruff growing in, those golden eyes alight with typical playfulness. Touya looked like he’d aged the most, his scars—fresher when you’d graduated—now deepened to the color of dark bruises. His features were still achingly familiar under them, however, the fine-boned prettiness of his mother shining through, his father’s blazing cerulean eyes the only nod to the other half of his parentage.

“So you really obeyed mommy dearest huh,” Touya said, pinning you with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him. As your closest childhood friend, he still knew all your weak spots, your mother the biggest of them. Growing up she’d been lonely and overworked, and you’d tried to care for her and please her the best you could. You still called her several times a week and sent back your wages to help pay for the house, and pay down the pile of debt your father had left her in when he’d died.

The concession of returning home for a few days to attend the annual mating run, as pointless as it was going to be, was the least you could do for her.

“You know as well as I do that no one is going to run down a beta,” you said, settling yourself in next to Rumi and shedding your coat and hat. “Especially not now that I’m well past newly-presented. It’ll be like a vacation.”

“You never know,” Keigo said, raising his fluffy eyebrows at you, his grin wicked. You flung the pile of your things across the table at him, but he intercepted easily, all alpha reflex. He stuffed your jacket down next to him, laughing at you.

“I do know,” you said emphatically. “And I’m not fussed about it. I don’t know who she thinks is going to pay her bills if I’m off getting dicked down by some knothead idiot.”

Touya made a dismissive noise and you looked around the table for something to fling at him too. He’d never had to worry about money, his future shored up with the Todoroki family fortune, built over generations and then basically quadrupled by his father. Since coming out of the correctional facility for a string of petty crimes, Touya had been skating by on family generosity, and you knew he wasn’t about to stop.

“Just burn her house down like mine,” he said, an unholy grin overtaking his face as he leaned forward. There was a light behind his eyes like he wasn’t entirely kidding. No one had ever been able to determine if the Todoroki family fire had been an accident or not, although Touya claimed it had been.

But you’d known Touya your whole life and you had your suspicions. Touya had hated his father for nearly all of your living memory—and the Todoroki men had an almost disturbing single-mindedness about them. You had long wondered if Touya’s fixation on his break with Enji had ever played into the fire that ravaged their house during your middle school years.

The one exception to the Todoroki single-mindedness was sweet little Shouto, who you’d last seen at your high school graduation. He was several years younger than you and had still been round-faced and chubby-cheeked then, all wide solemn eyes and pouty little mouth, just like when he was a baby.

You hadn’t seen him since, but couldn’t imagine Shouto turning out anything like Touya.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” you said to Touya, not liking how his grin widened.

Purportedly he’d come out of the correctional facility for good behavior, his record squeaky clean.

Purportedly.

“So why even agree to the run?” Rumi asked. “If you’re not looking to actually take anyone home?”

You helped yourself to the water that had been laid out before answering. “It’s just easier to appease my mother. She gets what she wants—some indication I’m open to my life mate-–and I get what I want, which is to be able to use this as an excuse next year.”

“Aww you won’t come back to see little old us?” Keigo asked. His tone was wheedling but his eyes tracked your expression carefully, always observing.

You smiled at him. You did miss your old friends, and you liked how easy it felt to sink right back into them after so many years away. You wanted to see them outside of the confines of a group chat or the rare facetime.

And you missed a lot about the town you’d grown up in. You liked the tiny storefronts of the downtown shops and the easy access to the coast and miles of hiking trails. You’d had a dream of opening up a little bookstore in one of the lovely brick buildings downtown when you were younger—but that was back before the staggering number of dollar signs on your mother’s bills had made themselves known to you and the romance of your daydream had begun to seem more like foolishness.

The bigger cities offered the bigger jobs, the bigger wages to send home. Even if it meant you could only see your friends every few years and mostly kept in touch via group chat.

“How about you guys come to me?” you asked. “There’s a chicken place I think Keigo will want to make the trip for.”

Keigo’s grin widened and he leaned in, interested. “Say no more,” he drawled.

On the table top, Touya’s phone vibrated. He peered at it, dismissing the notification with a swipe. “Rei wants to see you,” he reported, the usual blend of disrespect and unwilling fondness for his own mother layered in his voice. “She says you should come by the house.”

You smiled, pleased to be remembered. “I’d love that. Who’s living there now?”

Touya stretched, his back brushing the booth. “I do. And she does. Enji visits sometimes—” his tone was pointedly colorless “—and Fuyumi and Natsuo come by a couple times a week. Shouto is there almost daily for dinner when he’s not on shift, because his own cooking is absolute shit.”

You blinked, struggling to reconcile the idea of sweet-faced little Shouto with an adult who lived on his own now. “On shift?” you asked.

“He’s a fireman,” Touya rolled his eyes. “Little fucking do gooder. Ever since the house fire he’s wanted to.”

Your eyelashes fluttered again, your brain floating with the images of skinny, round-faced Shouto struggling to haul people out of a burning building. You struggled not to voice this disbelief.

“Wow, good for him,” you said.

“Not for me,” Touya complained. “Ever since he’s presented he’s been eating us out of house and home. Can’t find a fucking thing in the cabinets after he’s been through—”

And that shocked you, too, the idea that Shouto was already grown enough to have presented.

Objectively you knew he had to be into his early twenties at this point, but hearing the changes life had wrought on him was almost too much to contemplate. You wondered what he had presented as, and whether he’d be subject to the run this week as well. You’d always sort of suspected he’d be an omega, with that wide-eyed, beautiful face—almost a carbon copy of his mother’s, the same delicate prettiness in it as Touya.

And he’d been so sweet, too. When you’d been much, much younger—before Touya had become too cool and too emo for it—you remembered playing house together, remembered how often you’d dragged Shouto in to play the part of your son. He’d always sat there, a chubby-faced toddler, smashing blocks together and staring up at you with big eyes as you and Touya made plastic food and Touya unrolled a days-old newspaper collected from his father, bossing you around from his armchair.

Even when Shouto had gotten older and started to get as fresh with Touya as Touya was with him, he’d always been nice to you, always watched you with those same wide, mismatched eyes.

Yeah. He was most probably an omega.

“Well I’d love to see Rei, and Natsuo and Fuyumi and Shouto,” you said.

Touya stretched in the booth, not minding Keigo and thumping him right across the chest. Keigo squawked in annoyance.

“I’ll tell Rei you’re coming for dinner,” Touya said.

You smiled, pleased. You knew what a huge deal it was for both Touya and Rei to be in the same house again—both in recovery, both sharing the same space again.

When you’d left, Rei had been hospitalized and Touya had already been knee deep in petty crimes and utterly disinterested in any sort of overtures of help. For them to both be together again, getting regular help, with Enji out of the house and a rotating string of their family members checking in on them—you were happy to see them healing.

The buoyant feeling lasted all the way through lunch and too many drinks, until Touya shepherded you out of the restaurant, blazing a familiar path towards his family home. You followed, gratified when you saw that the Todoroki house was just as you remembered it, even the rebuilt pieces nostalgic.

Its grandness had been a shock to you as a child—not only in comparison to the tiny, squashed little two bed you’d grown up in—but that Touya had grown up there, in so vast and elegant a space. Touya who you dug in the dirt with. Touya who picked bugs out of the mud and put them on you. Touya who turned his nose up at dolls and ate things right out of your lunch box without asking, like he was a starving child without any access to food.

The house said otherwise.

Touya treated the Todoroki mansion with the same pointed lack of care he had as a teenager, kicking in the door as he led you inside, throwing his things in a pile in the entry. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fondly nostalgic over his shithead behavior.

“You missed a spot—I think there’s a bare patch of floor over there,” you said.

Touya gave you a narrow-eyed gaze over his shoulder as he uttered a string of objects you might suck.

You raised your eyebrows at him, smiling and unbothered. He’d always said it was your beta nature that left you unfussed with his various attitudes, taking everything in stride. You didn’t know if that was true—you’d always sort of suspected it was the strange, inherent connection you felt to him, and to the Todoroki family at large that kept you fond of him, even as he descended into teenage fury.

You didn’t know what it was, as you’d not ever felt it with your other friends’ families who you’d spent nearly as much time with. But if it netted you a lifelong friend, you weren’t about to question it.

Rei was in the kitchen like she had been that first day Touya brought you home, an enormous expanse of marble counter and vaulted ceiling that made her look unfathomably small. Her snow white hair had been cropped short into a page boy cut and made her look younger than her years, especially when she glanced up at you with the very same smile she had when you were a child.

“Welcome back, Y/N,” she said. You bowed respectfully, Touya scoffing and grabbing the back of the collar to haul you up.

“She’s not the fucking prime minister,” he grunted.

“And you’re not the boss of me,” you sniped, the drinks you’d both shared at lunch making you a little looser tongued in front of Rei than you’d have liked.

“Shouto will be by in just a few minutes as well, and he’ll be so happy to see you,” Rei said, smiling gently.

“Shouto lives on his own?” you asked, curious. Aside from picturing him as the skinny preteen you’d last seen him as, you also had trouble imagining kind, sweet little Shouto leaving his mother on her own—and with Touya definitely counted as on her own, for all the help he was. Shouto seemed devoted, familial.

“He’s wanted his own space since he presented,” Rei said lightly, clearly unbothered.

It was rare for omegas to peel off from their family units before finding a mate, and the strangeness of striking out on his own struck you even further. Maybe he wanted a nest to bring someone back to, after finding the right person?

You wondered if he was going to be participating in this year’s mating run, and made a mental note to try and find out if he wanted help avoiding any undesirable alphas. If he was an omega, your beta scent would help disguise some of his tracks, you’d just have to follow in his footsteps far enough away from the main track that a ranging alpha wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon it.

That thought was cut short, however, by the sound of the door creaking open in the foyer you’d just come in from. There was the sound of rustling fabric, like someone shedding their coat, and then footsteps padded through the hall. A hint of a scent met your nose, slightly sweet and smoky, with an undercurrent of something fresh—like a campfire burning on a cold, clear day. Your brow furrowed, the frostiness an almost-familiar dimension, like Rei's cold widlflower scent. Who was—?

Then a tall, unfamiliar alpha poked his head through the door, fluffy red and white strands of hair tangling across his forehead. He was an arresting sight—easily the most beautiful person you had ever seen, every single one of his features so perfectly and evenly placed, like he'd been put together deliberately. He looked startlingly like Rei, if Rei were a man, except for the fiery blue of his left eye, the shock of scarlet hair above it.

You stared at this new interloper, confused, until you were seized with a sudden memory of that scar, that same mop of hair bent over a turtle-shaped block puzzle.

No. No fucking way.

Rei smiled, opening her arms, and you gaped after him as Todoroki Shouto prowled across the kitchen to her, enveloping her in a hug. Where Touya was taller than his mother, his baby brother almost dwarfed her, easily clearing six feet, his shoulders broad and his frame packed with dense muscle. He'd always had the same elegant, sweetly beautiful set to his features that his mother and Touya did, but there was something sharper about them now, a slightly more alpha edge to him.

An enormous bicep shifted against the sleeve of his t-shirt as Shouto held Rei, and suddenly it was very clear how Shouto had managed to become a firefighter.

Something pinched your arm, hard, and you whipped around to stare at Touya accusingly. “Ouch!”

He smirked. “Don’t fucking stare like he does.”

You scowled at him, and opened your mouth to say something unsavory, until two mismatched eyes turned on you, pinning you in place.

“Y/N,” Shouto said. His voice was deep as midnight—so much lower than you had remembered—careful and smooth. The sound of it slithered up your spine like a shiver.

“Shouto?” you answered, stepping closer. “You’re Shouto? Are you sure?”

Shouto released his mother, only the tiniest corner of his mouth twitching. And that was confirmation enough. Shouto had always been a little serious, watching you carefully and intently. He was most like his mother that way—withdrawn, a little bit solemn.

“As far as I am aware,” he said. His tone was flat but you heard the tease in it, regardless. And that was so like him too, couching his inner little shit under the most serious tone, under those earnest heterochromatic eyes.

“Wish he wasn’t,” Touya muttered.

“Oh my god, Shouto. You’ve grown up so much,” you said, a strange thrill zinging up your spine as he stepped closer. That scent like campfire on a cold day washed over you, making you a little dizzy.

Shouto’s eyes got a little bit round at the edges, and something pulled at the corner of his mouth again, an expression you didn’t recognize. His tone was soft as he observed, “You are exactly the same as I remember.”

You could tell he meant it kindly, so you chose not to be offended with his obvious tact. You were well aware you were not a fresh-faced high school graduate anymore.

“I’m definitely older than you remember,” you said, resisting the urge to poke him in the chest. Your hand felt magnetized toward it for some reason. “Don’t be surprised if you hear my bones creaking all the way from the preserve during the run.”

Something sudden and strange passed over Shouto’s face, those mismatched eyes narrowing in on you.

“You’re running,” he said, his tone suddenly flat. “This year.”

“Yeah I’m back in town for it,” you said, ignoring Touya’s scoff at your side. “Gotta appease my mother. She doesn’t get that betas aren’t the target crowd for this, nevermind ancient ones. That, and I plan to disappear up a tree if someone so much as sniffs in my direction.”

“Up a tree,” Shouto repeated, sounding contemplative.

You wondered if he was internalizing how weird you were. He probably wouldn’t have remembered you being weird, considering how younger kids never thought to question their older peers. Maybe he’d even thought you cool when you were growing up together—you’d quickly disabuse him of that notion.

You nodded. “I’ve only been followed by alphas twice and both times I lost them up that big willow overlooking the bay, if you take the seaside path out two miles?”

Shouto’s eyes tracked you closely, like he was committing every word to memory. “I know it.”

You smiled. “The sea breeze is just enough to hide a beta’s scent, once you’re out of sight up there. I hope the city life hasn’t gotten me too out of shape to get up the trunk. Though to be frank I’m not too worried about it this year. Are you running?”

“Yes,” Shouto said, so quickly that it looked like he’d startled himself.

Touya’s head whipped around to stare at him, and Rei’s eyelashes fluttered momentarily, a weird stillness overcoming her—until a sort of look of understanding came over her features. You thought you caught a hint of a smile as she ducked her head to return to her dinner preparations.

“Thought you said you weren’t interested,” Touya said, his tone accusing. “You’ve never run before.”

Shouto looked deeply unfussed by his older brother’s sudden consternation. “Perhaps I have changed my mind.”

“The hell you did,” Touya said snottily. “You said you knew you wouldn’t find your life mate there.”

“Perhaps that has changed too,” Shouto said, his tone so dry that you could tell he was purposefully needling Touya. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Brothers.

Touya’s scoff overlaid the thump of Rei’s knife as she returned to chopping, and you realized how rude it looked for the three of you to be standing there arguing while she was working.

You hurriedly stepped around Touya and Shouto, peering over Rei’s shoulder. For some reason you were hyperaware of Shouto as you passed him, a thought you shoved right back out of your mind as you approached Rei. “Is there anything I can help with? I feel like I have years of free dinners to pay you back for.”

“I am almost done, but thank you, Y/N,” Rei said, as Touya said something in a haughty tone of voice, and Shouto’s low baritone answered. Rei’s mouth quirked softly at this—and you realized it was the same way Shouto smiled, small and private.

“—Not bringing home some weird fucking omega,” Touya was saying when you turned back to the boys. You startled when you realized Shouto had shifted to face you instead of his brother, and his body language looked like he was mostly ignoring him.

You channeled your sudden laugh into a fake cough. Touya eyed you sourly, long used to your tricks.

“Well if you want any help on the run, let me know,” you told Shouto, cutting into their argument with the practice of a beta used to diffusing things, especially between Touya and others. Shouto’s mouth twitched again like he knew what you were doing, and you watched his eyes pick over you speculatively.

You marveled at how far back you had to tilt your head if you wanted to look him directly in the eye now. He was so big, and so unexpectedly handsome—he really had grown up well. Some omega was going to be very, very pleased at the end of this week, provided he really did go after someone.

“If it’s your first you probably won’t know all the best hiding spots,” you told him.

Not that they were really hiding spots, considering most omegas wanted to be found. And there was no one on this earth who wouldn’t want to be found by an alpha who looked like Shouto did now. But he’d probably want to make sure he got to his intended first, before any other alpha found them.

Shouto nodded, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I will take you up on that,” his tone was low, intimate.

You smiled up at him, though something weird twinged in your chest. “Lunch sometime this week then? I’ll walk you through everything.”

Touya made a noise of disgust, and you shushed him. Shouto’s smile pulled into a quarter-moon sliver, sweet and beautiful. “I would like that.”

A strange little thrill zinged down your spine. You very pointedly did not think about it, instead shooting Shouto a thumbs up. And then, seized by a sudden need to get away, you marched forward to grab Touya by his collar, dragging him out into the dining room.

“Do you have to make your mother do everything? Let’s set the table,” you ordered him, shoving him at the cabinets. Touya swore at you, trying to twist his lanky body out of your hands, spitting like a wet cat.

But your mind was already elsewhere, occupied by this strange new turn of events. It really had been a long time away from your hometown, and much more had changed than you realized. You’d missed seeing Touya start to recover his life, you’d missed Rei returning to herself, you’d missed Shouto growing up into a man—and an alpha. You were suddenly overcome by the feeling that you did not want to miss any more, did not want to leave again—though of course that was foolishness.

The run was less than a week away, and you had train tickets back into the city just after.

And you had your mom to provide for, much as she wanted you to settle down with the first rando who got handsy with you in the woods. An alpha would have to bring more than an interest in you to your coupling in order to win you—and that was not going to happen, especially not to a beta, and especially not to you.

You laid the dishes out, resolving yourself. You’d enjoy this week, but never lose sight of the fact that you’d still have to leave at the end of it.

After all, it wasn’t like some miraculous twist of fate was lurking just around the corner of the Todoroki kitchen, ready to change your life.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #shouto x you #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #shouto x y/n #todoroki shouto imagine #bnha x reader #andie's writing #character: todoroki shouto

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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months

Text

I Never Missed You 1/3 (Bodyguard!Ghost x F!Reader)

Word count: 3.5 k

Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Romance, eventual smut, fluff, light angst, banter, pining, flirting, minor injuries, major character death, HFN ending. Lady/Knight dynamic. Unequal pairing trope. Bodyguard AU. Reader is a rich bitch (how else could she afford a PPO?)

Summary: 1/3 You hire a bodyguard to protect you and hunt down the one who's been sent to take your life. This man was your lawyer's first recommendation, and you never even looked through his file because you had better things to do. But it soon turns out that this man – this Simon Riley – is very talented... Talented in driving you crazy.

A/N: A three part fic based on this request. The first chapter features banter and pining. If you're here for smut, stay tuned. There is an entire chapter of it coming right up.

Your lawyer says it would be a good idea. He even dares to look at you from under his brow like you're a child who doesn't know what's good for her.

And you don't.

Because that's exactly how you feel like: a grown woman who's stunted to a kid, now being supervised by adults.

The bodyguard they assigned you - the one you accepted because he was your lawyer's first choice - is exactly the broad, brooding type you have always imagined bodyguards to be like.

But he's not wearing sunglasses, and he's not wearing a suit. He says the point of a bodyguard is that they don't look like a bodyguard.

The first thing you actually pay attention to is the milky-white eyelashes. Only days after you hear that this man rarely shows his face. You were given a file on him, but you never peeked inside it because you were pissed that such drastic measures had to be taken in the first place. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Now you pry it from the pile of papers you buried it into, open it, and the first - and only - photo you see is a perfect portrayal of what Death looks like.

He's the Reaper himself when adorned with that human skull. Keen but emotionless eyes stare from the pits of the sockets to somewhere in the distance, but that look is a stare into the past. The photo raises thousands of questions, and not only the need to know why this man prefers to wear human bones when he's shooting people.

Because apparently, that’s what he used to do before he became a bodyguard. He's buff, that you already know. But in that picture, he looks even more packed, with what you suppose is a bullet vest beneath that blouse. He’s holding an ugly-looking gun – not a pistol, but a rifle of some sort. The gear on him no doubt weighs something close to 60 pounds. His sleeves are rolled up and expose the crisscross veins on his forearms along with war-ugly, crude tattoos, and you swallow.

Were you really looking at a picture of a barbaric soldier like it was some peculiar soft porn now?

You flip the file closed and toss it on the table, rather disgusted with yourself.

The next time you see him, you look into those brown eyes a moment longer. That stoic stare is the only thing you recognize as that of the man in the picture. That, along with his size, although photos really can't convey how this brooding grunt makes you feel: small and insignificant. Nor do they illustrate how the man looks like he’s the most graceful bull in a china shop when moving inside your house.

You suppose he grew up poor, the way he looks at your furniture, your half-a-mile bookshelf, and the latest art piece you got last month in your living room. He's judging you.

You're posh. And clueless. And a child.

And this brute lives with you, for now. He's placed downstairs until the target is neutralized. And he's not just a bodyguard: he's hunting the hunter while you're the bait.

It should give you a thrill; your friend giggles when you two gossip about him over a lunch while he's standing only a few feet away. But this situation does not give you a thrill. It just makes you pissed.

And it's not just the situation, it's this... Simon Riley who makes you pissed.

Couldn't they teach manners, some conversation skills at the bodyguard school or wherever the hell this pale, emotionless Hulk came from?

You recheck his file and snoop some more details about his past. He didn't go to bodyguard school (of course he didn't); he used to work for some PMC. The brute's a cold-blooded, cold-hearted mercenary. To put it more eloquently, he's an elite soldier of some tactical unit. But all of that is classified, as is almost every other detail about him. The only thing you are left with is that he's British through and through, but you can already tell that by his accent - the thick Mancunian that makes your stomach and heart flip.

It's gruff – of course it's gruff – and sometimes chafes your ears like they were being grated with the softest grater. You find yourself thinking about him while you're in the shower, when your fingers start to drift and wander.

And for the love of god, you are not thinking about that accent and those eyes while you're masturbating. You're not going to mourn the fact that he never rolls his sleeves when he's with you. When he's at work.

"I saw your file," you start to chitchat over breakfast one day.

"I reckon."

He won't even touch the coffee you poured him but proceeds to drink almost all the tea. The delicate china looks miniature in his hands as he pours the Earl Grey into his cup. The cups are dainty, too – this savage would prefer a large, black mug, perhaps, from which to gulp his tea.

"So. What made you become a soldier?"

"Joined the SAS when I was 17."

And another thing he won't do is look at you when you speak. No manners at all in this man, only rough, sharp edges. He sits as far from you as he can, at the other end of the table, as if you were in a meeting. Or a war council.

"That's not what I asked."

"I know."

You roll your eyes. Conversation skills, god. Just give this man at least some charm…

"I'm going to do some shopping," you declare. "You can stay here."

Finally, he raises his stare. It's full of tired distaste.

"Nah. That's not how this works."

You rise from the table, gracefully and with a neutral face, indicating that you are an adult and won't be needing a babysitter at a store.

"Lady."

The command is dark and stops you before you have taken one step from the table. It's a slur, almost.

He rises from the table too, and you almost feel sorry, noticing he hasn't yet finished his toast.

"You hired me. And I'm gonna do my job."

He looks big and broad, like a beautiful storm, with that piercing stare and the most alluring lashes you have ever seen on a man. Your voice turns into a meek, pitched attempt to reason with a giant.

"...I'm just going shopping."

His head tilts with a mock: you're only a child in his eyes.

"Then let's go shopping."

…......…......

Sitting next to this giant in a taxi must be a hilarious-looking scene. A charming, vibrant lady and a sullen, intimidating Theseus – what a pair.

You've also never been this close to him. The man always sits with a wide spread. One heavy thigh almost touches your knees, which you have turned towards him for some unfathomable reason. You were taught to sit with knees closely set together, and that’s what you’re trying to do now: make yourself as small and feminine as possible. It only accentuates this man's size compared to yours. There's a pile of shopping bags between you two, and your gaze is directed outside the window, but you can feel his presence like there's a thrumming monolith beside you.

And he's always dressed in black. You kind of enjoyed how you two looked at the store: you in your heels and a pearl white suit, he in black, tactical ripstop and boots. You wouldn't define the man well-dressed… but he is sharply dressed in his own field, that's for sure. Even a commoner like you could see that.

He had complained about your clothes. White draws too much attention and makes for a bigger target. You had brushed him off with a scoff. You’re not going to change the way you dress because of this.

"You're from Manchester, right?"

You're only trying to make the journey home more enjoyable, but feel like you're snooping again, this time from the man himself. The less you know about Simon Riley, the more you want to learn who he is. It is only natural to get a little curious when his file barely had two paragraphs and a photo. You suppose even that single picture was taken and given forward with reluctance.

And the only thing you learn is that small talk is a completely foreign concept to this man.

"You're quite the Sherlock," he mutters with that fat accent that gave him away the minute you two shook hands. You Sherlock about some more, look at the left hand that rests on his thigh.

There's no ring. Not even a tan line. He must be lonely: no relationship could stand working hours like these.

"Do you still live there?"

"...No."

"Do you miss the place?"

"No."

The short answers are guttural and spoken from the back of his throat. You don't know if he's doing it on purpose, or if this Simon is like this with everyone. He's not annoyed, though, not the way you're beginning to be.

"Aren't you a chatty one…" you mumble while watching cloudy London pass by. You figured he might hear it, and perhaps that was your purpose, even if your voice was barely a whisper.

"I'm not here to talk. Ma'am."

…......…......

You are told to stay away from the windows. The dinner table is moved so no one can aim at your head through a glass. And even then, most curtains must be closed at all times.

He goes through doors first, and advises against going out at all. You get a list of things you should take into consideration if you do go out.

And you’re not going to give in to fear.

You simply take different routes to your friends and family, have lunches at different restaurants than usual. He says you should get an armored car, but you don’t have a license. Of course your brooding bodyguard could drive, but what will you do with some armored tank after you're finally through this thing?

What's far more interesting is that it turns out this Simon Riley is a smoker.

Disgusting, you think at first, then think about him all sweaty and grimy after some gunfight, reaching for a cig, curling those thick fingers around a pure-white coffin nail. No, wait – he had gloves in that picture; he wouldn't bother to take them off before he smoked, he would just lean on his gun and on some crumbling wall and sigh from the joy of being alive, of being bloodied and dirty and victorious before taking a long drag from his cigarette.

Ugh.

Reluctantly you agree that perhaps there is an odd charm to this man after all. Either that, or then you are in need of some serious therapy.

Breakfasts are torturingly quiet with Simon, and you can hear the slow roll of eyes every time you make plans to go to a party or an art gallery.

Once, a zipper gets stuck and you have to ask him for help. It’s mortifying, and he doesn’t say a word, only mocks you with his eyes as you turn around for him to place a warm hand on your hip and another on your back to pull up the zipper you had fought to reach and drag up by yourself for at least 10 minutes.

A week passes, and he’s buried in work, not only because he’s guarding your body 24/7, but because he’s trying to locate the hitman. The fact that Simon Riley is technically speaking a hitman too - to think that you have hired a killer - is something you don’t have the mental strength to delve into right now.

"Found the one who's hunting you."

Another file is dropped before you at the end of the week. The man marches into your office like there's no door there at all. Doesn't even bother to knock.

This isn't what you meant when you politely told him to make himself home…

You roll the glass of water on your temple and sigh. The file reveals another photo, this time of a man who looks like an executioner.

"Goes by the name König," he says and clasps his hands over his crotch while taking a wide stance in front of your desk. "Austrian war criminal. Skilled with knives… Likes to torture people first."

Nice. More brutes.

"Why are you telling me this?"

You're tired, there's a headache approaching, and you really don't care to go over some details about a professional lunatic killer right now. But Simon Riley - codenamed Ghost, you’ve lately learned - looks down at you like a storm cloud over a carefree meadow.

"Because you clearly don't understand the danger you're in."

He adds "Ma'am" as a footnote. Purposely forgotten...

And you wish he would forget that silly, overly courteous term.

"Well–" you sigh your frustration in the air between you two, then realize that perhaps you're being treated like a child because you behave like one. "What are you going to do about this man...?"

"Gonna kill him," he simply shrugs, the eternal, distant look in those eyes gaining a smug tone to them.

He enjoys this. Enjoys killing, but what's even worse, enjoys seeing how his ruthlessness makes you shift uncomfortably in your chair. Or perhaps he just likes shocking you with that file with an image of a lyncher in it. You know perfectly well that you're in trouble and under threat. That's what you've tried to forget, but no one lets you forget.

Simon takes a deep breath before placing his humble petition before you.

"Ma’am. I'm gonna need your help."

And nothing in this man is humble. Even though he rarely speaks and never shows his talents, not to talk of showing off, he reeks of pride and testosterone.

You set the glass on the table and straighten the file to align with the leather pad on your desk. Your fingers are not trembling. Yet.

"What do you mean?"

He gives a hoarse laugh. The sound drills straight to your core and starts to bloom there. You realize you have never seen him smile before. And he's not smiling now: the short laugh is just a dark chuckle that mainly stays inside his chest; it only makes those stocky shoulders rise and fall.

"Not like that," he looks down at you with a tad of mercy. "You're gonna serve as bait."

"Isn't… that what I've been the whole time?"

"Yeah. But this time, we're gonna lure him in."

The way he talks makes your thighs rub together without your consent. You wonder what it would feel like if you were trapped between that solid chest and a wall, what it would be like if those hands woke you up with a calloused caress of a thigh.

You don't quite understand the difference between bait and a lure but find yourself willing to do whatever you can to help him. Help Simon…

"Sure... I'll help you," you say as if this man wasn't on your payroll.

"That's the least you could do."

That barely hidden bite in his dry retort doesn't escape you. This man's audacity buries whatever odd want you have started to feel for him and replaces it with searing, womanly fury.

He could be a little more sensitive.

You're the one who has a target on their back. You're the one who fears going to sleep at night and feels lucky they're alive come dawn. If he wasn't so crude and uncaring, you would've asked him to sleep in the same room with you from the start. But he has to be a brute, has to follow and mock you with those ink blot eyes at every turn.

You rise from the chair when he turns and walks toward the door. It's almost a snappy jump, an attempt to reclaim your power. You're sore and thoroughly peeved.

"I never wanted this," you tell him with an annoying timbre in your tone. He stops right before the door but doesn't turn.

"Neither did I."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Could be somewhere warmer with no damsels giving me their cheek."

The BDU blouse you saw in that picture was yellow, burnt yellow. Desert wear… He wants to be in a hot desert with a cold gun in his hand. Dropped straight from some plane, working alone, in a place where damsels aren't giving him their cheek. Where there are no damsels at all.

You're relatively sure there is no Mrs. Riley. No woman could stand this man.

"Then go somewhere warmer," you snap, almost stomp your heel on the soft carpet. This man is simply intolerable. The way he never reacts to anything makes you want to throw things at him.

He must be trained to be so calm, but you're not. You're used to making men a little stupid and flustered. You're used to men eating out of your hand. He's not behaving at all like he's supposed to. Simon Riley is just a mountain without emotion.

He turns with that eternal, downgrading look in his eyes. There's a flash of amusement there, too.

Soddy bastard…

"Nah. Not until I've done my job."

His voice is warm now; the gruff and gravel make way to a smoothness that goes directly to your knees. Your lips part, and his eyes fall on your mouth just before he lifts his chin a hair of an inch.

"Your job…" you breathe, too furious to even rage or shout.

Your fucking job.

Why did you even want this job if it's so–

"Yeah. My job. Some people got one."

You have to take support from the table with your fingertips.

"Excuse me?"

There's the tiniest curve at the corner of his mouth before he takes his leave.

"Good night, ma'am."

…......…......

The next day, you start the breakfast by apologizing.

You barely slept that night, first because of this man's utter nerve, then because your wrath eventually cooled down into a bleeding consciousness of how you must look in his eyes.

He has accepted this job, something different from what he usually does, for reasons unknown to you. He might not be on some faraway battlefield where bullets fly past, but this is no less risky. The picture he showed you, the file on König, haunted your restless sleep last night – when you finally did get some sleep.

You have been running around like everything’s normal when it’s not. The man’s just trying to do his job.

And you're the one who hired him. Not your lawyer.

"I want to make peace," you coo while spreading some jam on toast. You expect Simon to finally melt a little. You might even get a smile. You secretly hope your reward is that this brute turns into a tamed lap dog you can feed some treats every now and then.

The situation is thrilling: the beefiest man you have ever seen is going to kill someone for you. Even if he's being paid to do so, he is prepared to die for you. There's something incredibly sexy about that.

But there is silence at the other end of the table. Only the crunchy sounds of toast getting sugar on top can be heard.

"That so?"

He doesn't sound like he's melting. He doesn't sound at all domesticated. He only sounds more and more amused.

"Yes. I'm happy that you're here," you put the toast down and turn to look at him with angel eyes.

He laughs. When he stops, he looks you up and down, then laughs some more, a silent, shoulder-shaking chuckle.

"I'm… I'm serious," you hurry to add. "I mean it. I haven't been treating you the way I should–"

"That's for sure."

You see more warmth in those eyes. But it's not because of your humble apology.

His eyes are trekking down the neckline of your blouse, and to your horror, you notice – feel – how one of the top buttons has opened, revealing much more than just some skin. You're pretty sure he gets an ample view of the fuchsia bra you're wearing underneath.

If you reach for that button now, you underline that he's not supposed to look, even if it's your mistake that you're so obscenely exposed. If you close it now, you tell him he's not allowed to look. And that's not entirely true.

"Will you forgive me?"

You feel like you're offering peace, or at least a truce, with more than just that peepy question. Because your breasts swell inside that blouse. They rise and fall with your breaths, your nipples grow hard from that look that stays down a bit longer before drifting back up.

"There's nothing to forgive," he says, voice dropping a note or two.

"Good," you swallow. The following sentence comes out so weakly that it's almost a whisper. "After all, I hired you."

"Ain't that the truth."

The dim glint in those eyes still holds you as a prisoner, and his tea is growing cold.

"Are we going shopping today?"

"No," you utter, dreading the next inevitable question.

"What then?"

"I… I have a yoga class."

"Of course you do."

…......…......

Taglist: @cumikering

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod fanfic #mw2 fanfic #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x female reader #ghost x female reader #bodyguard au #bodyguard!Ghost

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astonmartinii · 6 months

Text

the age of no regret [mamma mia part four] | formula one scoial media au

drivers: sebastian vettel, jenson button & fernando alonso part one | part two | part three masterlist | tips

a due date nears, a god father is revealed and new cravings are discovered

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,209,851 others

tagged: jensonbutton

yourusername: f1 drivers are too generous, i don't know how we got all of the stuff back from montreal let alone how we're going to store it.

view all comments

user1: i'm NOT jealous of an unborn child's helmet collection

user2: this bro got a senna helmet, can i have it until they know who he is?

sebastianvettel: i'm seeing a 'we' in this caption when it was me, myself and i putting together this display case

yourusername: erm i was supervising?

sebastianvettel: that was more aimed at jenson, love. i wouldn't want you anywhere near a glass display case right now

jensonbutton: one day it's "i'm the wood work king, let me do this" and then it's "why did no one help me?" PICK A STRUGGLE SEB

sebastianvettel: well i was waiting for you to take all the credit ... so this is awkward now

jensonbutton: well i'll take the credit for getting most of the helmets

charles_leclerc: ummmm no i gave seb at least two of these

jensonbutton: @sebastianvettel tell your grid kid to back off this is adult conversation

charles_leclerc: i'm 25?

fernandoalo_oficial: beckett better be sleeping in his dog bed because i am not fighting a dog for my space in the bed

jensonbutton: of course he is !!!!!!!!!

yourusername: the exclamation marks are really making you look guilty

jensonbutton: IT'S NOT JUST ME YOU GUYS BRING HIM TO BED AS WELL

yourusername: i have hormones i see one puppy dog look AND I CAN'T LEAVE HIM THERE

fernandoalo_oficial: if i have to fight the dog, you guys have to let me sleep in the middle

yourusername: fine. beckett sleeps at the foot of the bed anyway you just want to be in the middle of the cuddle pile

fernandoalo_oficial: sue me

user3: cuddle pile? i'm so soft

user4: beckett? who named this dog and why was it definitely jenson?

yourusername: it was but i was assured it has nothing to do with f1

user4: babes i hate to tell you but he's defo named after the corner at silverstone

yourusername: how am i so easy to trick ffs

sebastianvettel

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton and 1,093,455 others

tagged: yourusername

sebastianvettel: crochet club in full swing for zandvoort. good luck nando!!

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user5: they really are old people at heart it's so cute

maxverstappen1: can i get a good luck for my home race?

sebastianvettel: good luck?

yourusername: good luck super max! (not that you need it)

maxverstappen1: thank you y/n i knew there was a reason why you're my favourite :)

charles_leclerc: can i get a good luck too please?

sebastianvettel: you weren't this clingy even when we were teammates

yourusername: seb !! be kind, good luck charlie

landonorris: can i also get a good luck?

yourusername: good luck lando (stop being so hard on yourself)

sebastianvettel: is everyone gonna ask for a good luck?

yourusername: how many more grid kids do you have? i feel like you underestimated the number on your cv

jensonbutton: how is my jumper coming along?

sebastianvettel: we're both working on a sleeve right now!

yourusername: sorry if one is shorter than the other i can't stop going to the bathroom

fernandoalo_oficial: thank you guys, can't wait to see you when i get home x

jensonbutton: looking fast this weekend, podium defo on the cards

yourusername: be fast but be safe x

sebastianvettel: looking forward to a new celebration

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 702,340 others

tagged: sebastianvettel, jensonbutton & yourusername

fernandoalo_oficial: getting attachment issues already @f1 can we just race in switzerland from now on?

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user8: they do group facetimes while nando is away?!?!?!?!?! shoot me.

yourusername: i second this @f1

jensonbutton: i third it

sebastianvettel: i fourth it

fernandoalo_oficial: i miss you guys :(

user9: i'm so excited/nervous about the naming situation i know these men will just have stupid suggestions

yourusername: we compromised with a name book i do not trust them after beckett

jensonbutton: beckett is a cute name and you agreed!!!!!

mickschumacher: do you guys need the extra camp beds or not?

sebastianvettel: yes please! could you bring them when you get back?

charles_leclerc: we're sleeping on camp beds? does my back mean nothing to you?

fernandoalo_oficial: do we look like a hotel to you?

yourusername: there are beds but it's first come first served, so don't be late xoxo

user10: are the grid going to stay at seb's?

user11: might be for a baby shower?

user12: HOLY SHIT

maxverstappen1: am i allowed to bring the cats? is beckett trained?

yourusername: omg yes please bring jimmy and sassy

jensonbutton: yes he's trained what do you think i've been doing with my retirement?

maxverstappen1: no comment

sebastianvettel: i guess you can bagsy a room for you and the cats

maxverstappen1: HA thank you seb

fernandoalo_oficial: more and more i realise why people call you my grid kid

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,340,566 others

yourusername: who knew i'd end up with a family this big? i love you all.

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user13: i am unwell this is so fucking cute

sebastianvettel: i love our weird little family

yourusername: little? we hosted like 25 grown men ...

jensonbutton: and you loved every single second

yourusername: yeah i love you guys and all your little stray cats with attachment issues

fernanodalo_oficial: yeah but that means they also give good gifts

user14: wait? 25? who else do we think went?

user15: so mick was definitely there, i think i saw mark in the back of one pic, kimi was there along with nico rosberg (LOL) and i think rubens barrichello

user16: no way first out of paddock brocedes reunion was at the mamma mia baby shower...

jensonbutton: those people are meant to be athletes how come there were NO CUPCAKES LEFT I KNOW THAT'S NOT IN YOUR DIETS

maxverstappen1: idk i feel like you're projecting

charles_leclerc: yeah you sound mad guilty jenson

yourusername: now i can see the grid kid resemblance

sebastianvettel: i will not take any responsibility for their shenanigans

fernandoalo_oficial: i do

danielricciardo: soz i finally got that brocedes scoop over a late night cupcake

yourusername: i won't be angry if you spill to me

lewishamilton: daniel?

fernandoalo_oficial: this is why you're my favourite daniel

user17: i need them to SPILL NOW

jensonbutton

liked by sebastianvettel, yourusername and 702,334 others

tagged: kimiraikkonen

jensonbutton: it's official!! after careful consideration, we decided that kimi was the best choice for god father, but we still consider you all a weird mix of god uncles and god everything else. y/n is due any day now so we'll see you all some time soon x

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user18: LETS GOOOOOO I WAS ALWAYS TEAM KIMI THAT'S MY GOAT 🐐

maxverstappen1: rigged

yourusername: maxy if it helps seb was seriously stumped after the baby beekeeping suit

maxverstappen1: doesn't help but i guess it's healthy to take a loss every now and again

danielricciardo: i. am. shocked.

sebastianvettel: you insulted all of us in your application

danielricciardo: ummmmm yes to prove to chickie that i'm a fun, goofy guy DUH

jensonbutton: we are NOT boring farts

danielricciardo: depriving your child of a fun god father is a boring fart move

kimiraikkonen: i am fun daniel.

charles_leclerc: i may have lost god father but i won being a bear, you win some you lose some

lewishamilton: you're being much more gracious than expected

charles_leclerc: oh i screamed into my pillow when i got this notification (and max also lost)

fernandoalo_oficial: you're taking it well lewis

lewishamilton: I KNOW YOU VOTED AGAINST ME FERNANDO BUT JOKES ON YOU I SEE THE HAMILTON BEAR YOU FRAUD

yourusername: there were no votes against people... also roscoe is not a reference we can actually verify i don't think dogs can speak english (or german, spanish or italian)

lewishamilton: he can skateboard? how am i not a good dad?

fernandoalo_oficial: see this aggression is why you aren't god father

lewishamilton: i'm letting roscoe at your ankles old man

sebastianvettel: OKAY LETS STOP THERE

markwebber: who got kimi jack daniels? that's a bold (and uniformed)choice

yourusername: it's the aesthetic mark, i don't like your tone

jensonbutton: kimi will drink anything don't worry love

markwebber: all i said was it is an interesting choice

yourusername: this is why you got destroyed by a twink btw

jensonbutton: well this all escalated fast

astonmartinf1

liked by lancestroll, estebanocon and 1,094,561 others

astonmartinf1: fernando alonso will not be racing this weekend due to family matters. felipe drugovich will race in the second aston martin seat. we wish y/n, fernando, jenson and seb luck for their new addition.

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user21: EVERYONE STAY FUCKING CALM

user22: i am so so so so so so so so so chill about this

lancestroll: good luck y/n! can't wait to meet the little one

user23: god i miss the squabbles in the comment sections

user24: literally and i can imagine it's going to increase ten fold when they all have an actual kid to fight over

charles_leclerc: why does it have to be a race so far from europe :(((( i wanna meet chickie ASAP

maxverstappen1: don't make me race your ass to the hospital

charles_leclerc: we can use air max this once seb won't know

danielricciardo: 📸 GOT YOUR ASS

charles_leclerc: daniel???

danielricciardo: 'm sorrry i'm stressed

user23: okay that didn't take long

user25: i need a lobotomy asap cause why am i so excited about four complete strangers having a baby

user26: I AM SO NERVOUS ABOUT THE NAME IF THIS CHILD IS NAMED AFTER A RACE, DRIVER OR A CORNER I WILL ACTUALLY LOSE MY MIND

user27: seb will never see the light of day if that child ends up with a bond girl name

lewishamilton: good luck guys !!! can't wait to meet the full family

user28: completely normal that the whole family is not online during potential labour but I NEED UPDATES

user29: okay put your bets on guys - which one of them is passing out

user30: jenson 100%

user31: idk i think seb has been way too chill this entire pregnancy and it's all going to come out during the birth

danielricciardo: yeah seb's ass is grass

maxverstappen1: DANIEL STOP (it's gonna be jenson)

danielricciardo: i'm sorry i'm so stressed i'm literally going to bite off my fingers

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,402,455 others

f1: with y/n's due date this week, we send our love and well wishes to the alonso-vettel-button family and can't wait to meet the new addition (and soon to be champion) 🏎️

view all comments

user32: it's just dawning on me that this kid might need a jumbo birth certificate with all these last names

user33: is anyone curious if they'll ever do a paternity test to see who the biological dad is

user34: let's not ask horribly personal questions about situations that are nothing to do with us

user35: also the kid is going to have four loving parents and about 25 grown men who will fight for them so i really don't think who the biological father is is really a big deal

estebanocon: gosh i am so excited

user36: as much as i am excited i hope it won't become a whole family influencer type beat

user37: i don't think they will tbf, i think they'll post about chickie but it'll be reserved

georgerussell63: so excited for the guys! they'll all rock as parents and y/n has already put up with them so will be an amazing mother

alexalbon: good luck guys, all of our love x

user38: f1 cruel as hell for putting this race all the way qatar so that there's no way they can go back to europe between races :(

charles_leclerc: real, depriving us from meeting chickie asap

user39: do we think kimi went with them?

user40: and maybe mick? he's not with mercedes this weekend?

mickschumacher: kimi and i are with them! not allowed in the delivery room when chickie comes but we're here for moral support <3

user41: oh i am so soft

lewishamilton: i guess it makes sense kimi is the god father... good luck guys!

note: OKAY PEOPLE THAT'S PART FOUR HOLY MOLY i am hashtag stumped on a baby name and the sex IDK ANY OF IT but this was FUN! hopefully yall enjoy and hopefully i tagged everyone who asked (blame my phone if not) also thanks to @deviltsunoda for listening to me SCREAM about this the whole time i've been writing it xoxo

taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora @faithm120601 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @luv4kani @eugene-emt-roe @magical-spit @ironmaiden1313 @jaydaaasworld @whoreks @rainerax @nonsensical-nonsence @laneyspaulding19 @chelseyyouraverageluigi @lxclerc @gemofthenight @woweewoowa @tagteamedbitch@imagandom@mypage-myfandoms@mehrmonga@asparklysoul @unstableplant @motorsp0rt@multilovebot@lili-flower03 @its-elias-world @jolixtreesunn@nothingfuninthislife@rileynicol3@kodzuvk@mochimommy2002@fluffyspaceprincess@roseseraj@black-swan-blog27@nyrasslut@justdreamersdream@asfaraslifegets@why4anne@ineffableperson@leilanixx@lunyyx @pupbistro @gaypoetsblog@rafaaoli@champomiel@sadsierra2 @rainerax @lokietro @thecubanator2 @nzygftoji @rockyhayzkid @nmw-am @slytherheign @erikasurfer @turn-around-look-at-what-you-see @greigreyhiyyih

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #mamma mia au #astonmartinii #fernando alonso instagram au #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso #sebastian vettel instagram au #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel #jenson button instagram au #jenson button imagine #jenson button x reader

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