#well okay yes okay absolutely that is the case

[sapphicmsmarvel]

Azriel: baby blanket

Azriel had never had a baby blanket. 

When you found this out, it made you so sad you started crying (you were on your period which didn’t help the emotions). 

You were talking with Feyre and Cassian. Feyre mentioned how she found Rhysands baby blanket in their closet and couldn’t get over how cute it was. 

“It has bats! It was so cute.” 

“Oh yeah, Rhys’ mom made me one with swords on it.” Cassian sipped his beer. 

“And Az?” You asked. 

“Az what?” He quirked an eyebrow. 

“What was on Az’s?” You asked, tilting your head. 

“Huh.” Cassian thought. “I don't think he ever got one.” 

“What? Why?” Your heart was shattering for your husband and mate. 

“When he joined the family, he was in his preteens. A little old for a baby blanket. I joined when I was a bit younger so I think that’s why I got one.” He titled his head as he thought. “He might’ve had one when he was with his blood relatives, but I doubt they let him have any comfort.” He grimaced. 

You teared up. “Rhys’ mom never made one for him?”

“No, just because he was a bit older.” Cassian shrugged. 

You frowned, “I wouldn’t think of it either if I were her I just…” Your lip wobbled. “He deserves it.”

“Aw shit.” Cassian got up and went to your other side. “I forgot you were on your cycle.” 

“Shut up.” You cried, swatting his arm. Which he wrapped around you and pulled you to his chest. 

“He’s okay, sweetheart. He’s a big boy.” He kissed your temple. 

“Everybody deserves a baby blanket. I still have mine.” You bit your lip and sniffed. “I need to make Az one. He deserves it!” 

Feyre touched your shoulder. “I think Rhys still has fabric his mother owned.”

“Can you ask? I wanna make it and include the woman that took him in.” You frowned, “and find some way to include his mother.” 

“Of course.” Feyre said. She also kissed your temple. 

Feyre later asked Rhys, who absolutely let you have some fabric. That way the blanket was from both you and Rhys’ mom. You reached out to Azriel’s mother, who helped you learn to sew. You spent hours with her. You loved doing this so you could give Azriel something meaningful, then it was better since his mother helped you learn. 

You did a few practice runs with random squares of fabric that weren't the special kind. Just to make sure you didn’t fuck up the actual project. 

You picked out a soft fabric he loves because it doesn’t cause sensory issues. You chose if in his siphon blue with stars on it. 

When he came home after you had finished it, he was concerned because you looked like you were up to something. 

It didn’t help that you had made his favorite foods plus dessert (since you wouldn’t let him eat you for dessert with your cycle going on, which he doesn’t care either way for the record). 

Then after dinner, you made him sit on the couch and close his eyes for a surprise. “And I forbid your shadows being sent out! So don't send them!” You yelled as you ran up the stairs to grab the surprise.

“Yes, love.” As if they’d listen to him over you in this case. Plus, he’s never seen you so excited. So no, he wasn’t going to ruin it.  

He heard your giggling as you walked down the steps and couldn’t help his own tiny chuckle. He heard the crinkling of a bag as well. 

“Okay, open your eyes baby.” You said. He opened his eyes to see his love smiling wide and her eyes twinkling. 

She handed it to him, he could feel that it was hefty. He took the tissue paper out and threw it at you, which you giggled at as it hit you. 

Then he saw the most beautiful blanket there. He pulled it out. It was a deep, rich navy blue. Sparkling with the night sky. 

“Did you make this?” He whispered, his heart was already filled because his love gave him something. 

You nodded and that caused his heart to overflow. 

“I love it but what’d I do to deserve it?”

“Just be you.” You said. Then he saw the tears start in your eyes. “Gods, this stupid cycle. The amount of times I cried making it.” You wiped your face. 

“Cassian told me you’d never had a baby blanket. And everybody deserves that bit of comfort. I’m sorry if this seems silly I just-“ Your lip wobbled. “I wanted you to have it.” 

“Oh baby.” Azriel cooed. Which was weird, because he was one of the most feared warriors cooing over his period-ridden wife. “C’mere.” He set the blanket down, and pulled you into his lap. Your thick thighs cradling his muscular ones. 

You fit perfectly in his lap. He then grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around you both. For a baby blanket, it was quite large. You worked so hard. He loved it so fucking much. 

“I’m sorry this is your gift and I can’t stop crying.” You let out a wet laugh. “Gods, the amount of times your mother teased me for crying.” You sniffed. 

“My mother?” He froze. 

“I went and visited her a lot these past few months. She taught me how to sew. We had lots of tea and talked about you.” You teased. “I loved seeing her so much.” You whispered. 

His heart was bursting. You spent time with his mother, his mother who you loved to see.

“Baby, this is beautiful. You’re so talented.” He kissed your forehead. “I can’t believe you made me a baby blanket. Thank you.”

He never even thought that he’d want one. Now, the only way anybody would get it out of his hands would be if he were dead. 

“Where did you find this fabric?” He asked. It was beautiful. As if the night sky itself was woven into it. And so soft on his skin. 

“Rhys’ mother.” You sniffed again. 

He snapped his head to you, confused. You smiled. “I asked Rhys if there was any fabric left from her. Then I actually embroidered your mothers signature in the corner, with her guidance. So,” You shrugged. “It’s from all three of us.” 

“The three most important women in my life.” He murmured. 

He brought you into a kiss that told a thousand words. “Thank you.” His voice broke off. “I can’t even begin to think of how to repay this.”

“That’s the thing Az. You don't have to. I’m your wife, I am honored to give you something so special.” You whispered, clutching his face. 

“You didn’t just give it. You made it. You make me so happy, my love.” He brought you in for another kiss. 

After that night, you kept catching him snuggling the blanket. He wouldn’t travel with it, it was his prized possession. It never left your house. All your family knew about it was that you made him a blanket. 

Then, for away missions. You made him a travel size one. 

Then for his birthday. A tinier matching one. Only with your signature in the corner opposite his mothers. 

And, an embroidered baby footprint.

#acotar #acofas #acomaf #acowar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x reader fluff

[bosinclairsgff]

Lady Slashers Meeting their girlfriend

Includes: Baby Firefly, Amanda Young, Amber Freeman

Warnings: saw trap, hinting at kidnap

A/n I have the biggest crush on Baby

- You met Baby when you were hitchhiking through Texas. You had been trying to make your way home to whatever state you live in and somehow found yourself standing next to Baby. “Hey there! Where ya heading?” She giggles. “Just trying to make it home to (your state).” You respond. After you guys make conversation, she realizes she’s taken a liking to you. She invites you over for the night. You accept and when a car pulls up to give you a ride you both get in together.

- When you make it to her house she offers you a cup of hot chocolate, which you accept happily. Baby sits next to you on the couch in the living room and turns on the TV. You aren’t really paying attention to the movie playing. Your more interested in how cool her house is. It’s like a museum of oddities and curiosity! “I love your house Baby, it’s truly amazing.” You say looking at her. Her eyes light up! “Thank you sugar, that’s so sweet.” She smiles.

- After an hour or so you guys decide to head to bed. Baby insists you sleep in her room with her. Which you absolutely don’t mind. Her room is just as eccentric as the rest of the house. You can tell she really loves baby dolls. “Ready for bed sugar? I got extra blankets just in case ya got cold.” Baby says. You nod and thank her. “Which side of the bed do you want?” You ask. She laughs at this question. “I don’t care honey. I’ll sleep anywhere as long as I’m sleeping with you.” She smirks playfully. You can feel your face heating up. Baby slips under the covers on the left side of the bed as you take the right. You both stay silent for a few minutes but baby takes the roll in ruining said silence. “Ya know…we could cuddle if ya like to.” She turns to face you. You guys are inches away from each other, you can feel her breath on your face. She smells like liquor and hot chocolate. A mixture you normally wouldn’t like, but coming from her you don’t mind. “Okay..I wouldn’t mind that.” You can feel yourself turning a bright red. She slips her hand over your waist and pulls you towards her. Baby let’s out a soft sigh as she closes her eyes to fall asleep. As she falls asleep first you follow shortly after.

- The next day you guys get to know each other better. Learning all her likes a dislikes, meeting her brothers and her mama. You and mama get along very well. You stay with the family for a few days really feeling at home and at peace with Baby. However, all good things must come to an end. “I really should get back home Baby.” You say softly one day as you girls are laying in bed. She sits up immediately. “What! Why? I thought ya liked it here sweetheart.” She pouts. “I want to stay but what about my life and my responsibilities?” You tell her as you rub small circles on her hand. Baby thinks for a moment about what to say. “You can make a life here. I’m not letting you leave me. I want to be with you and I know you want to be with me.” She says in almost a dark tone. You had to be honest with yourself, it scared you seeing her like this but also made you feel safe knowing how much she cherishes you. “Well I suppose if you won’t let me leave I’m stuck here, with you…which isn’t so bad I guess.” You smile. Baby’s whole demeanor changes, she’s full of happiness and love again. Without much warning she leans in and kisses your lips. You of course accept the kiss graciously, kissing her back.

- After a month of living with the family you and Baby officially started dating. By this time you had found out their dirty little secrets. You couldn’t do much about it, yes you loved Baby but she did tell you that you couldn’t leave her.

- You had seen on the news about how there was a serial killer on the loose called Jigsaw. You were never to worried you’d run into him, I mean you were a nobody really. All you did was go to work and come home, on the rare occasion you’d go out with a few girlfriends but never often. That’s actually how all this started, you had just started walking home from the bar when someone in a pig mask came out of nowhere, stabbing you in the neck with something. After that assault you quickly started to get drowsy, within seconds you were fast asleep. When you awoke you found yourself bond to a chair, as your hands had been duct taped to the arms. On your head was a metal contraption. When you started to panic a TV in the corner turned on only to show a puppet. This puppet explained that he simply wanted to “play” a game. You have 60 seconds to free yourself from the reverse bear trap, as he called it, or it would permanently open your jaw. As in your head would be torn apart. To escape this trap you had to remove the key to the lock keeping it on you from a man’s stomach. Before you could truly take all of this in the TV cut off leaving you to start your game. As soon as you escaped the chair a timer started. You frantically tried the get the bear trap off without a key, it wouldn’t budge. You knew what you had to do. When you had finished getting the key and getting the trap off just in time, you passed out. Awaking to the fluorescent lights of a hospital room.

- Yes, you had survived the trap but you had been absolutely terrified of everything since that day. You were more great full for life, sure, you still always looked behind your shoulder and locked every door you entered. After a month or so you slowly started getting back into the groove of things. Which must be some cruel joke the universe was playing on you because as soon as things started to seem okay, you meet John. Who, as you came to know was behind the traps and murders. Though, he claims he never murdered anyone. John wanted you to help him with his work, make the traps, kidnap the people. You of course wanted absolutely nothing to do with that. You weren’t a psychopath who enjoyed hurting people. You loved people. However you didn’t have much of a choice.

- You had joined Johns team of apprentices, which is where you met her. Amanda Young. At first she really didn’t seem to like you all that much. She’d do anything in her power to absolutely avoid you. At first you took it personally but then you saw how she treated Mark. In that case you were thankful for how she treated you. Slowly you started to get her to open up. Saying hi to her when you would come in to work on traps or clean up the warehouse. Grabbing her a coffee when you got one for yourself. Eventually you two started to hangout even outside of working for John.

- After a while of constantly spending time with her you realized how much you liked her. You started to wonder if, maybe, she felt the same towards you. That’s when you decided to ask her one night. You guys normally hung out at your apartment, watching movies and eating unhealthy snacks. You let her choose the movie. As you guys were sitting on the couch, laying on opposite sides. You sat up, paused the movie and looked at her. “Mandy, I have something to tell you and ask you.” You state while looking down at your hands. What’s wrong? Did something happen!?” She questions with a worried expression. “What..no everything is fine don’t worry. I just. I wanted to tell you that, I have serious feelings for you and I was wondering if maybe you spelt the same.” You look up at her with a red face. For a moment she stays silent, which you internally start panic. “I-it’s okay! Let’s just forget I said anything.” You reach for the TV remote with was laying close to her. You lean over to get it and she grabs your face planting a kiss directly on your soft lips. Of course your taken completely off guard, not in a bad way though. After a second of pure bliss she ends the kiss. “I have feelings for you too y/n I was just scared I’d lose you if I said anything.” Amanda says shyly.

- You two officially started dating that night.

Amber Freeman

- You had just moved to Woodsboro, and were very nervous starting at a new high school. Yeah, you were a senior but it was still scary. The first day you started you bumped into a girl named Amber, at first you thought she may yell at you as she looked so intimidating. Yet all she did was smile and tell you it’s not a problem. In your last class of the day you saw a familiar face upon the unfamiliar setting. It was Amber sitting alone in the back of the class. You made your way to her and asked if you might sit next to her. She happily made space for you. Over the next month you two become good friends. Exchanging numbers as to keep contact even outside of the class. She texted you good morning and goodnight everyday. Amber made you feel wanted and safe, no one would fuck with her or you. Even her friend group liked you.

- You guys would usually hangout all together as a group but there were times when she just wanted to be alone with you. She’d treat you to a horror movie or sneak over late at night. Amber just loved alone time with you, where she knew you were completely hers. You started to notice little hints that she liked you. Such as when she’d hold your hand when you guys watch scary movies, or how she got very jealous whenever you talked to other girls. There are even times where she’d rest her hand on your leg while you guys ate lunch in the cafeteria.

- One night at a party you both had been glued to each other all night. You found yourself cuddling with her on the couch and watching whatever was on TV. She was sitting up, you were in her lap and she was playing with your hair. You can’t remember the last time you felt this happy. After a while of this she suddenly stopped and told you to look at her. Confused, you did as she said. Sitting up you looked at her with tired eyes. “Is everything okay?” You questioned. She’s nods in response. “There’s something I need to ask you y/n, I’ve been thinking about it for a few weeks.” Amber says looking into your eyes. “What is it? You can ask me anything.” You say. She stays silent for a moment, thinking. “I want you to be my girlfriend. I really, really like you and I want you to be mind.” She says while looking down. You can’t believe what you just heard. You almost don’t at first thinking maybe you did fall asleep and this is a dream. “Of course I’ll be your girlfriend!” You softly yell. Her whole face lights up and she smiles. Leaning in you kiss her on the lips softly while cupping her face with your hands.

#horror #horror fan #horror movie #horror movies #horror films #slasher x reader #slashers #saw franchise #amanda young fluff #amanda young x reader #house of 1000 corpses #baby firefly x reader #baby firefly #scream #amber freeman #scream franchise #ghost face #wlw post #wlw #wlw love #bosinclairsgff

[brother-emperors]

THE BROTHERS SFORZA

augh. there sure is a lot going on between them. tfw you know your older brother is wary of you so you have to navigate that fine line of proving you're useful, but not dangerously so. tfw your younger brother has the potential to be a knife in your back, but he's your brother. don't think too hard about what happened with the galeazzo. unfortunately, you're both visconti as well as sforza, and the visconti were prone to conspiracy. fucking RIP.

this definitely won't be upsetting years down the line when ascanio is near death and ludovico will be desperate to figure out how to bring his brother's body back to milan so ascanio can be interred in the same place as ludovico's recently deceased wife, beatrice d'este, and where ludovico himself has been haunting in a perpetual state of grief.

& the background of the first panel are public domain scans of two cards out of the visconti-sforza tarot deck.

Ascanio Maria Sforza: la parabola politica di un cardinale-principe del Rinascimento, Marco Pellegrini

#ABSOLUTELY BANANAS PHRASING abt one of these paragraphs btw #'metafora della sottomissione del figlio al padre' okay!! like going into that dynamic with your older brother is so. sooooooooooooo #like it makes sense. this is a dynast family. the father is dead. the eldest son was assassinated. #so now your older brother who was not the eldest brother WOULD assume the father-head of household role #and in the case of an emergency. you would fall into place as his right hand #which was. which was formerly occupied by your mother. and your older sister to the assassinated brother. so. WELL #that IS how you would prove you were useful to the state-household. it's just that. #NOBILITY IS SO FUCKING INSULAR ALL THE TIME. christ #the claustrophobia of being suspicious of your brother but having to rely on him #better to follow the plan your parents and eldest brother had in mind and marry him off to the church #italian renaissance tag #ascanio sforza #ludovico sforza #komiks tag #drawing tag #anyway eventually i'll figure out an art style i like for the renaissance cast. i think im getting close #but AUGH im still missing that feeling of 'yes. good.' im leaning towards the dead lineweight tho. that feels Right.

[aflyingcontradiction]

It does not surprise me when I see a person on here whose interactions consist entirely of posting memes and being an absolutely insufferable dickhead.

What does surprise me is when otherwise reasonable and largely friendly people continue to interact with them.

#my babbling #Yes I have this person blocked and their name blacklisted just in case they show up anyway #Did I click on a blacklisted post out of morbid curiosity? Yes #Did I learn that this person's presence on tumblr continues to be an utter waste of server space? Also yes #Was it far more infuriating than it should reasonably have been? Also yes #Will I learn from this experience and stop clicking on blacklisted posts? Absolutely not #(well okay. Maybe. If I punish myself for it in my productivity app I guess that might work)

[bratphilia]

overtime (m. schmidt x reader)

request: "Hey ! Just discovered your account and I love your writtings ! I was wondered if you could write a smut and romantic thing with mike ? I dont have any specific context and all its up to you ! <3"

note: ty sm for showing love to my work and for requesting!! i finally was able to write something actually sweet with mike for the first time lmao.

pairing: mike schmidt x reader

tags: small age gap, fingering, missionary

after putting abby to sleep, you fell asleep yourself in front of the tv. you couldn't help it! it was a long night of cooking spaghetti for abby (and ordering pizza, per her request), helping her build a fort, and coloring with her inside it. abby's a sweet kid, but babysitting has always tired you out in general. plus her older brother, your boss, started working the graveyard shift at his new job, so it would be unfeasible for you to not go to sleep during your time spent over there.

you woke up to the chair next to you being shifted in, and open your eyes to see mike sitting there, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. you feel embarrassed that you fell asleep on the job and quickly explain yourself. "i'm so sorry for falling asleep, i was just—"

he looks at you. "no need to apologize. i don't expect you to wait all night long for me."

awkward silence fills the air. well, that settles that. god, he's so cute, you think, even all stressed out and with bags under his eyes. he's also been nothing but kind to you since the two of you met. always concerned with how you're doing, how school is holding up, and just generally about your wellbeing. you try to do reciprocate as it's obvious mike doesn't have a lot of people in his life doing the same for him.

you're the first to break the silence. "uhm, there's leftover pizza in the fridge... you know, in case you want any..." you comment, not quite sure what else to say to him.

"oh! thank you," he says. "did abby ask you to..."

"make her spaghetti and order pizza? yes, she absolutely did."

both you and mike laugh. "i'll make sure i can pay you back for that. you really didn't have to—"

"mike," you interrupt, "seriously, don't worry about it. i understand your situation and i want to help you."

mike looks at you gratefully, almost lovingly.

"y'know—"

"so, i should really—"

the both of you talk at the same time. "oh, sorry, you go."

you smile gently. "no, you go. i was just going to say i should hit the road."

he runs a hand through his hair again, eyes darting across the room bashfully. "well i — uh, i just wanted to say thank you for all you do for abby... and for me. it means a lot. you're very... kind."

your smile widens at his awkward choice of words, but it deeply touches you that he appreciates you. you place a hand on top of his. "of course, mike. i'm always here for you."

mike looks at your hand and inhales deeply through his nose. "will you — will you stay for just a little while longer?"

before you know it he's on top of you on the couch, slamming his middle and ring finger inside you while you bite back moans. "gotta be nice and quiet for me, sweetheart. can't wake abby up, okay? or else i gotta stop and neither of us want that," he whispers to you sweetly.

instead of letting you respond, mike presses his lips against yours in a deep kiss while he continues to finger you. you break apart to quietly call his name, letting him know that you're close.

much to your dismay, he pulls his fingers out before you can come. "mike, please," you whisper.

"please, what, honey?" he teases.

you squeeze your thighs together, trying to relieve the tension in your core. "please fuck me already."

mike presses his forehead against yours, breathing sharply as he slowly pushes inside you, inch by inch. you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out as your pussy swallows his hard length.

as he begins to move, he also clearly struggles to keep his noises to a minimum. as a solution, he envelopes you in a kiss as he moves inside you. his pace gradually increases from gentle to faster. the feeling is absolutely delicious.

he can feel your pussy spasming around him and his own dick pulsing too. he uses the hand caging you in on the couch to hold yours as he continues to fuck you.

"feel so good around me, baby," he whispers hotly. "you have no idea what you — ngh — do to me. every time i see you i always think about fucking you like this."

"mike," you moan quietly. his words only encouraged you.

his name becomes a whispered chant falling from your lips as he fucks you through your own orgasm. he's sure to pull out and come on your stomach while he pumps himself.

mike wipes the sweat off of his forehead and sits up so your legs lay over his lap. "sorry for pushing you into overtime," he jokes.

you give a small laugh. "no worries. it was my pleasure."

mike shakes his head at your dumb joke. then his smile fades and he looks at you seriously. "is it... too early to say that i love you?"

you lean up and meet his lips in a kiss as your answer.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf smut #fnaf movie #fnaf x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader

[leclsrc]

wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...

word count: 3.6k  

It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie

It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 

To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.

The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—

“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.

His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”

“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.

You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 

“What about Max?”

Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”

“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.

“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”

—

The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.

Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.

His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.

OK, nice. Did u need something?

No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?

Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.

I thought we agreed no contact unless business

He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.

Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.

Yeah. Got a drink.

I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.

How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.

Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit

Yeah? I missed you today.

Really?

A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.

He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?

You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 

So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.

The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.

And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.

It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.

I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.

He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.

So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.

He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.

In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.

He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.

The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.

He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.

You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.

Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.

His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”

One week later

“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”

The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.

You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 

Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.

“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”

You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”

“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”

“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”

“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”

He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.

“Wanna test that out? Come play.”

Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.

“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.

“You got it wrong. Teaching.”

He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.

If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.

You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?

You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.

Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.

“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.

You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—

“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.

“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.

“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.

“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.

“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 

“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.

“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.

“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.

It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 

He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.

“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”

“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.

“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 

“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 

“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”

His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.

“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 

Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.

“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.

“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 

You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.

#f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader

[pucksandpower]

Blackmail Material

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you love your boyfriend more than life itself but who can blame you for keeping a folder of all the blackmail material he has given you over the years … just in case

You hear a bloodcurdling scream from the other room. “Y/N! Come quick!” Charles yells.

You rush over to find him standing on top of the couch, a look of sheer terror on his face. “What’s wrong?” You ask.

He points a shaky finger at the floor. “Sp-spider!”

You look down to see a tiny little spider no bigger than a blueberry crawling across the hardwood. You have to stop yourself from laughing at the sight of your brave Formula 1 driver boyfriend absolutely losing it over this tiny critter.

“Really? That’s what all the fuss is about?” You don’t bother to keep the amusement out of your voice.

“Don’t laugh!” He says indignantly. “It’s a monster! Kill it, please!”

You kneel down and take a closer look at the offending arachnid. “Aww, it’s just a little jumping spider,” you say. “It’s actually kind of cute.”

Charles makes a strangled sound of disbelief. “Cute? It’s a beast from the depths of hell! I want it gone!”

You roll your eyes affectionately. “You race cars at over 300 kilometers per hour, but you’re scared of a little spider barely bigger than a piece of lint?”

“Yes! Spiders are my worst fear. Now stop teasing me and get rid of it!” He gives you his best pleading look from his perch on top of the couch.

“Alright, alright,” you acquiesce, grabbing an empty glass from the coffee table. You gently trap the spider under it and slide a piece of cardstock underneath, trapping the spider safely.

“Is it dead? Please tell me you killed it,” Charles asks hopefully.

“Of course not, I’m just going to let it go outside. Spiders are good, they eat other bugs.”

Charles visibly shudders. “Well get it out of here! I don’t want to see it ever again.”

You carry the spider carefully to the sliding door and release it on the balcony. When you come back inside, Charles is still standing on the couch looking suspiciously around at the floor.

“The horrible beast has been banished, you can come down now,” you say.

He hesitantly steps back down onto the floor. “Are you sure it’s gone? You didn’t just give it free reign to run wild in the apartment?”

You try and fail to hold back a laugh. “Yes, I’m sure. Your life is no longer in peril.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “This isn’t funny! Spiders are evil creatures with too many legs and eyes. They should not exist.”

You go over and wrap your arms around him comfortingly, though you’re still struggling not to giggle. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. But you have to admit, it’s kind of silly that someone who races cars at death-defying speeds could be so terrified of a tiny spider.”

He huffs indignantly. “It’s a completely rational fear. They’re all legs and eyes and they move so fast and erratically and some of them can be venomous. Absolutely horrifying.”

You smile indulgently and kiss his cheek. “Okay, I get it. I promise I’ll protect you if any more evil spiders invade our home.”

“Thank you,” he says, finally relaxing into your arms now that the threat has passed.

But you just can’t resist teasing him a little more. “It was just so small!”

He pulls back and gives you an unamused look. “You’re not going to let this go anytime soon, are you?”

You grin impishly. “Letting my big macho boyfriend stand on the couch and scream because of a teeny tiny spider? Yeah, probably not gonna let you live this one down for a while.”

Charles groans. “This is so unfair. The guys will never let me hear the end of it if they find out.”

You pat his shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell anyone that Charles Leclerc is terrified of itsy bitsy spiders.”

And if you happened to save evidence of his freak out just in case? Well … it’s not technically telling anyone unless you share the video.

***

You can’t help but grin as Charles paces back and forth in your New York hotel room, running his hands through his hair in distress.

“Chill out babe, I’m sure the airline will find your luggage soon,” you try to soothe him.

Charles whips around, eyes wide. “Chill out? How can I chill out when my La Mer is missing? Do you have any idea how long it took me to perfect my skincare routine?”

You stifle a laugh at his dramatics. “I mean, it’s just skincare products. Not the end of the world.”

“Just skincare products?” Charles looks at you in horror. “That’s like saying a Ferrari is just a car! La Mer is the cream of the crop, the holy grail of skin care! My face needs it to survive!”

You can’t hold back your grin anymore. “Wow, didn’t realize I was dating such a high maintenance diva,” you tease.

Charles huffs, crossing his arms. “I am not high maintenance, I just have discerning taste and an appreciation for quality.”

“Uh huh, sure,” you say. “Is that why you made us stop at three different Whole Foods on the way here from the airport until you found your favorite protein shake?”

“That is completely different,” Charles protests. “My skin is very sensitive, I can’t just use any old drugstore products.”

You laugh and pull Charles onto the couch next to you. “You’re cute when you pout.”

He tries to keep a straight face but ends up cracking a smile. “I can’t help it, I’m freaking out! Do you know how dry airplanes are? My skin is going to be a flaky desert by tomorrow.”

You run a hand through his hair. “Aww poor baby. However will you cope without your six hundred dollar moisturizer?”

Charles narrows his eyes at you. “You joke, but this is serious stuff. Do you want a boyfriend with wrinkles and acne?”

“I mean, a few wrinkles never hurt anyone,” you say, kissing his cheek.

He gasps dramatically. “Don’t even joke about that! I’ll be twenty seven soon, wrinkle prevention needs to start now.”

You shake your head in amusement. “Most twenty seven year olds aren’t this worried about wrinkles. But I guess Formula 1 drivers really are high maintenance.”

“With good reason! We can’t have crows feet interfering with our vision,” Charles says matter-of-factly.

You give him a look. “You’re just making things up now.”

Charles holds your hands, looking deeply into your eyes. “Mon amour, you must understand. Athletes age in dog years. We need anti-aging products just to keep up.”

You burst out laughing, shoving him playfully. “You’re so full of it!”

Charles grins cheekily. “But you love me anyway.”

You lean in and give him a soft kiss. “Yeah I do. Even if you are a high maintenance diva.”

Charles puts a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I thought girlfriends were supposed to be supportive! My skincare is obviously very important to me.”

You snuggle up next to him, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Tell me all about this super special moisturizer.”

His eyes light up. “Well first of all it contains like crushed up diamonds or something. And they freeze each jar before shipping it to keep the ingredients ultra fresh.”

You make a mental note to Google this later, since it sounds completely absurd that diamonds would be an effective skincare ingredient. Though with Charles, you can never be too sure.

“Uh huh, diamonds. That’s totally normal,” you say, playing along.

“Exactly! And the founder makes sure each jar charges under the energy of a full moon before it’s sold. It’s really an intricate artisanal process.” Charles sighs longingly.

You smile and kiss his pouting lips. “You’re cute. I promise your skin will survive one night without magic moon diamonds.”

Charles snuggles against your shoulder. “I know, I know. Skincare is just part of my routine, it makes me feel relaxed and put together. And smelling like citrus blossoms is an added bonus.”

You kiss the top of his head. “I get that. Hopefully the airline finds your stuff soon. But in the meantime, want me to see if anyone sells La Mer nearby?”

Charles perks up. “Ooh yes, let’s check! I saw they have a Dior down the block too.”

You laugh and take his hand. “Of course they do. Come on, let’s go spoil you with new overpriced skincare products until yours turn up.”

***

You walk into the kitchen and see your boyfriend standing at the counter, a pile of uncooked spaghetti next to him. He takes a portion in his hand … which he proceeds to snap in half before dropping it into the pot of boiling water on the stove.

“Charles! What are you doing?” You exclaim in shock.

He turns to you, confused. “What do you mean? I’m just making sure the pasta will fit better in the pot.”

“But you can’t break spaghetti before cooking it!” You say incredulously. “That’s like a cardinal sin in Italy!”

Charles laughs. “Oh come on, it’s not that big of a deal. The pasta will cook just fine this way.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I can’t believe Il Predestinato is out here breaking pasta. Do you have any idea how offensive Italians would find this?”

“I’m sure they will survive the absolute tragedy of some broken spaghetti,” he jokes.

You nod to your phone. “It’s a good thing I’m recording this for posterity then. The whole country needs to know about this travesty.”

Charles’ eyes go wide. “What? No, don’t record me!” He reaches for your phone but you spin away, giggling.

“The people of Italy deserve to know the truth about their hero!” You declare dramatically.

“Mon ange, please give me the phone,” he pleads, trying to grab your arm. You dance out of reach.

“Truth and justice will prevail!” You continue recording as Charles chases you around the kitchen island.

“Come on, delete it! This could start an international incident if it gets out!”

You pause to catch your breath, phone held high. “An international inchident? Wow, look at you being all dramatic now. I thought it wasn’t a big deal?”

Charles runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I didn’t think you’d actually record it as blackmail material! Please, mon amour, I’m begging you, delete the video.”

You pretend to think about it. “Hmm I don’t know … this seems like prime viral video content. Scuderia Ferrari Driver Destroys Pasta, Enrages Italy. Can you imagine the views it would get?”

“Y/N!” Charles lunges forward and tackles you onto the living room couch. You shriek with laughter as he tries to pry the phone from your grip.

“Noooo my video!” You yell dramatically.

Charles pins your arms above your head with one hand and reaches for the phone with the other. “Give it to me!”

You squirm underneath him. “Never!”

He leans down until his face is just inches from yours. “What’s it going to take for you to delete that video, huh?” His voice is low and gravelly.

You catch your breath, hyper aware of his body pressing against yours. “I don’t know, what are you offering?” You ask cheekily.

Charles brushes his nose against yours. “What if I made you your favorite dinner tomorrow night?”

You tilt your chin up in defiance. “That’s all I get for deleting potential internet gold? I don’t think so.”

He moves even closer, his lips just barely grazing your cheek. “Okay, what if I take you out for a nice date too? Dinner and a show at the opera, your choice.” His breath is warm against your skin.

You close your eyes for a second, affected by his closeness but not ready to give in yet. “Tempting, but I think this video is worth even more than that.”

Charles makes a small noise of frustration before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You melt into it for a blissful moment before pulling back slightly.

“Well that’s certainly a start,” you murmur, your heart racing.

Charles lets go of your hands to cradle your face tenderly. “Mon cœur, please delete the video. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything.”

You search his eyes intently. “Anything?”

“Anything,” he confirms fervently before kissing you again, deeper this time.

You wrap your arms around his neck and give yourself over to the kiss. After several heated moments, you gently break away.

“Okay fine, I’ll delete the video on one condition.”

Charles looks at you warily. “Name it.”

“You have to let me drive your Ferrari.”

Charles groans and drops his head against your shoulder. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

You laugh and pat his head consolingly. “Those are my terms.”

He lifts his head to grin ruefully at you. “You drive a hard bargain. But for the sake of Italian nonnas everywhere, I accept your deal.”

You lift up your phone and pretend to wipe away a tear. “The souls of broken spaghetti can finally rest easy.”

Charles just shakes his head before leaning down to silence you with another deep kiss. As you lose yourself in the feeling of his body against yours, you quietly move the video into an encrypted folder. After all, you never know when it might come in handy.

***

You raise an eyebrow as you watch Charles carefully pour Red Bull into his Ferrari water bottle. “Do you buy those in bulk?” You ask with a laugh.

Charles gasps in exaggerated outrage. “Buy from the enemy? Never!” He screws the cap on tightly and gives you a sly grin. “Max and I have an arrangement.”

“An arrangement?” You echo in surprise. This is news to you.

Charles nods, looking pleased with himself. “Yes, a secret trade deal. I provide him cappuccinos from the Ferrari cafe and Max supplies me with as much Red Bull as I need.”

You burst out laughing. “Are you serious? You and Max smuggle each other contraband caffeinated drinks?”

“Shh, not so loud!” Charles glances around furtively, but the motorhome is empty except for the two of you. “It must remain a secret.”

Still chuckling, you lower your voice conspiratorially. “So the great Charles Leclerc betrays his team for energy drinks. The Tifosi would riot if they knew!”

Charles winces dramatically. “Do not say such things! It is not betrayal, merely … creative problem solving.” He takes a long swig of Red Bull and grins. “The taste of the enemy is sweet.”

“I can’t believe you drink that stuff. And I can’t believe Max is your supplier!” You shake your head in amusement. “Does anyone else know about this arrangement of yours?”

“Only Lando. We needed a neutral third party to broker the deal and make the exchanges.” Charles leans in with a playful smile. “So do not be getting any ideas about exposing our scheme, yes?”

You mimic zipping your lips. “My lips are sealed … as long as you share some of that!”

Charles pretends to think about it for a second before breaking into a grin and handing you the bottle. The carbonated liquid fizzes pleasantly on your tongue, the familiar flavor mingling with the surrealness of drinking Red Bull from a Ferrari bottle. You take one more sip then hand it back to Charles.

“Just don’t let Fred or Christian find out,” you warn teasingly. “Pretty sure this counts as treason.”

Charles just laughs. “They turn a blind eye. The team knows I perform best when properly caffeinated.” He caps the bottle and adds, “But no more for you, ma belle. I only have a limited supply!”

You pout dramatically. “Fine, keep your precious Red Bull. I guess I’ll just have to tell everyone what’s really in your water bottle!”

The can of Red Bull that Charles rushes to give you tastes even sweeter than usual.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #scuderia ferrari #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc drabble

[soarrenbluejay]

Supervillains for a community. (Well, except those jerks over in Gotham, insular lot, but they’re they’re one problem) Of course they do- supervillains are a group defined by strong opinions and a willingness to see them through, often with a healthy dash of societal failures and trauma as a catalyst.

The fentons, while not active even on the online message boards, are well known and explosive when they do show up, full of fascinating insights and hours long rants on mad science on hair pin turns courtesy of that ADHD attention span. Bit of the cryptids you feel honored to bump into kind of deal. Besides, like a good quarter of the community as it aged, they’d settled down and had kids (not necessarily in that order) and taken it very seriously! Out in the middle of nowhere, where even the most fearsome government outpost members, the local branch of the IRS, quake before them in fear. Out of the way.

Reveal gone okay-ish, Danny moves to Gotham still to get some air bc now things are Akward and he landed that engineering scholarship which is loads better than any other college would give him with his track record. So- the mysterious Fenton children are finally crawling out of hiding! Everyone is psyched! And roll in to Gotham en masse to witness the fireworks!

Except Danny is Determined To Be Normal. He’s had enough of the throwing himself into harms way shit for a lifetime- he wants to be free to peacefully built Rube Goldberg machines and unintentional increasingly complex bombs to his hearts content. JAZZ, on the other hand- the coveted token Normal One, has finally snapped! She’s watched her baby brother she practically raised throw himself into danger over and over and could do nothing, and now that she’s exposed to this whole network of superheroes outside of small town Amnity, some of those uglier emotions are coming out. And boy is she pissed! And can’t afford to show it much while filing the paperwork to have Arkham legally razed to the ground!

See I love this idea of like, niches in superhero society. A villain the heroes know they can plop their kiddo down with for an exciting afternoon brawl while they take care of a particularly grisly case and come back to a few hours later ranting about some new life lesson and a new move they really want to try. A villain who has a functioning moral compass despite their somewhat batshit long term goal and you can contact to fuck with another villains’s plan so they can laugh at them and you can have an easy afternoon. One who pries up hostile architecture and fills in pot holes, idk man. Get creative here, there’s such potential!

So Jazz becomes a Training villain- someone the heroes know their sidekicks will walk away from in a fight 100% of the time, usually with some new lesson to ponder and only a couple of bruises. Sometimes even snacks!

She also absolutely ambushes mentors to check that they’re worth the kiddo, which they appreciate once they get over being jumped in a dark alley by a 7 foot Amazon trained force of nature. They are not used to being on that side of the jumping, it’s a little unnerving.

(Yes, she low key adopts Shazam upon checking in with him on cursory ‘is the main hero of this city and asshole’ checkin. Yes, the super clones get yoinked out from under Superman’s negligent thumb to go have a blast with Ellie. What about it?)

This however only encourages more assorted weirdos to crawl out of the woodwork. It’s not often one of their own forfeits their potential spot for the running of the coveted Most Normal I Swear prize, but when they do it’s bound to be good! But jazz is off hounding various heroes and punching the faces in of pedophiles and shit whenever there’s no cape within easy reach, and so is a mite bit harder to contact than Danny, who has innocently gotten an apprenticeship under a clockworker for access to their workshop and is gleefully going about doing nerdy shit with great abandon.

Plus this is Gotham. No one gives a shit if someone in the Mad Alchemist uniform and still smoking from their latest experiment pokes their head in a window to bother the local shrimp teen- none of the usual social rules apply, everyone’s crazy here! So everyone drops any and all attempts at masking and just acts their genuine unhinged selves, much to the alarm of the Bats and frustration of Danny.

Bc he cannot get these mfers to go. Away. Even liberal use of the creep stick has little effect when the interloper is calibrated for an opponent with super speed or laser vision or whatever, and he’s trying to maintain his guise as a Normal College Student Do No Investigate.

So he calls in the big guns. He’s not super active in the supervillain kids group chat ever since things in amnity calmed the fuck down post becoming King and then immediately using a loophole that says he will not take the throne until he is grown, as defined by finishing learning his trade a la the medieval standards Pariah set up. So he can just take his sweet ass time with his graduate degree and out of inter dimensional bull shit that much longer! Point is, he hasn’t taken the chance to rant over there in a while, so his Crazy friends are getting a lil worried.

The change to come over and shout at their batshit crazy but (mostly) well meaning parent AND see Danny? Score!

The bats, however, are getting awfully suspicious about this one kid that villains from all over the country are flocking to, especially young and upcoming ones as of recently! And he’s acting his engineering course- all the worst rogues are known to have flown through their PhD studies prior to Cracking. They seem to have a real problem on their hands with this Fenton guy.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #mad science #supervillain community #bonus points if you can pull out some super niche comic villain #justice for kite man #local child of a crazy chemist: so you know that trick you showed me with the soda and the reaction that could turn into just like all foam #Danny: yeah and also back the fuck up #lcoacc: so it’s been like my comfort food right but like I started wondering what you could do #danny: oh no (he says while making what amounts of an overachieving smoke bomb) #lcoacc: so I was like what if I add more of a base to it so it could be solid and then maybe just like a LIL acid to see what happens #Danny: oh ancients #lcoacc: but then the killjoy supes came in a ruined everything from where I was ruining lex Luther’s day #Danny:… did you get in on camera #lcoacc: OF COURSE. oh also like everyone ever if coming over for a sleepover lol #Danny: WHAT I CANT FEED YOU MONSTERS #lcoacc: no worrries we’ll rob a bulk store or something lol #Danny: nO

[dandylovesturtles]

Made myself emotional over the “Leo and Donnie chose to be twins” headcanon.

———

“By the way, it’s Leo and Donnie’s birthday next Thursday. You’re coming, right?”

Draxum looked up from his work organizing next week’s lunch schedule to look at Michelangelo, sitting on the counter and swinging his feet. Celebrating individual birthdays wasn’t a thing that the yokai did, but Draxum had been forced to accept that the boys could not be dissuaded from this human tradition. He’d been to two birthday parties now, for Michelangelo and Raphael respectively, eating cake and presenting them with some small trinket he purchased.

He’d known that he would have to go to more birthday parties at some point. But he wasn’t expecting two at once.

“Why on the same day? I can’t imagine the blue one wanting to share.” Actually, he couldn’t imagine Donatello wanting to share, either.

“Oh,” said Michelangelo with a laugh. “That’s ‘cause they’re twins!”

Draxum stared at him. “Twins? What kind of nonsense is that?”

Mikey tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“They’re entirely different species, for starters,” Draxum pointed out.

“I mean, we all are, but we’re still brothers.”

“Yes, by virtue of your shared DNA donor and the circumstances of your raising.” Draxum waved that off. “But “twins” refers to a situation where two children are born at once, especially as the result of a split of a fertilized egg. Which is absolutely impossible in the case of Leonardo and Donatello. Even if I were to be charitable and simply consider them “twins” for having the same hatch day, I can tell you they do not.”

“Uh, okay,” said Michelangelo, unimpressed. “But they’ve always been twins, so I don’t think it matters to them.”

“Why not? I would think it would matter to Donatello especially, since he claims to be scientifically minded.”

Michelangelo laughed. “Not everything is about science, Barry. Not even to Donnie.”

“Then his decisions about when to apply science and when not to are inconsistent and confusing.”

“Well, it’s their birthday, so they get to pick.”

“I am certain that is not how birthdays work.”

“It’s how it works for us!” Michelangelo slipped off the counter. “We’ll see you on Thursday, right? It’ll mean a lot to them if you come!”

Draxum was fairly sure Leonardo in particular would prefer he didn’t, but that didn’t matter. Now he had a mission: he had to correct this strange incongruence.

“Yes, I will be there.”

“Yay!” cheered Michelangelo. “Okay, see ya Dad!”

He squeezed Draxum around the waist on his way out. Draxum was finding he didn’t mind that as much as he used to.

———

Leonardo and Donatello’s party was just as loud and obnoxious as the other two. Blue and purple decorations covered every inch of the old subway station, strange music blared from unseen speakers, and a horrendous amount of junk food was spread out over a table. It was the same group of people present today as there ever was, the eclectic mix of humans and yokai that the boys considered family, but it felt like a crowd three times the size with the amount of noise being made.

Draxum stood off on his own for most of it, his slim birthday present already delivered to the table stacked with gifts. He’d been a little shocked when Donatello and then Leonardo came by to say hello, since he’d been prepared to be ignored by both of them. It was… nice, maybe, that they did that. Even if Leonardo just wanted to make jokes at his expense.

For most of the party, the two birthday boys seemed to be competing with each other for attention. In fact, the longer he took it all in, the whole affair seemed like a clash of ideas. The purple decorations were neat and tidy, geometric patterns and hard angles. The blue decorations were whimsical, uncoordinated, and haphazard, and there were places it seemed someone had deliberately covered up some of the purple with the blue. Leonardo wanted to play rock music and Donatello wanted to play techno. The cake was a mess because they’d both requested different themes for the decorations. There were arguments between the two of them every few minutes, and according to the human girl April this was “typical behavior.”

But why? They weren’t really twins. They didn’t have to share this day.

Hopefully Draxum’s plan would fix all this nonsense.

When it was time for gifts, Leonardo loudly declared that he was going first, sparking an argument. They squabbled for a bit before agreeing to play rock-paper-scissors, which was apparently what they did every year.

Leonardo won the game and celebrated obnoxiously while Donatello scowled at him. Then he gestured at the gift table - which Draxum, in his efforts to stay out of the main throng, was closest to.

“Hey, Barry! Grab me a gift! Make it a good one.”

Draxum sighed but reached over to take one of the blue packages, checking the tag to make sure it was for Leonardo. “This one is… to Leo from Donnie,” he read.

“Oh no, not that one. Our presents to each other are always last.”

“Because they always get sappy about it,” said April with a laugh.

“Do not!” yelled Leonardo at the same time Donatello hissed, “You take that back!”

“Uh, yeah you do, and you know I’m right.”

Draxum ignored the petty argument to look back at the gift table. If they weren’t going to be satisfied with his choice, he might as well give them his own gift.

He lifted it, in its sensible brown packaging, off the table and handed it over.

“Why not start with this? It’s to both of you from me.”

“Both of us at once?” asked Leonardo. “Oh man, you’re throwing off our whole system, Barry.”

“Yes, but he’s giving it to you,” Donatello pointed out, “which means my turn is still next.”

“Uh, no, if it’s for both of us then it counts for both of us, which means it comes back around to me!”

“Ooooh no, you do not get to loophole your way into opening two presents in a row-“

“Ahem!” Draxum loudly cleared his throat, getting their attention. “Would you please just open it?”

“Yikes,” said Leonardo. “Touchy.”

“Some people just don’t understand the sanctity of opening birthday gifts,” said Donatello with a sniff. But he leaned in to watch as Leonardo tore off the wrapping paper and opened the box.

They were both silent for a moment, staring at it. Then Leonardo said, “Uh, no offense, Barry, but what is this?”

“It’s a… scientific study on how twins are formed during the gestational period,” said Donatello, pulling the paper clipped thesis from the box. “Oh, there are more in here… Also about twins.”

“Uh…” Leonardo blinked at it, clearly bewildered. Well, he was always a bit slow. “Thanks…? I think?”

“Not that I don’t appreciate the scientific literature,” said Donatello, “but this isn’t really my area of study and Leo does better with training manuals and textbooks than research papers.” He looked up at Draxum. “Is there something about this we aren’t getting?”

“Yes there is,” said Draxum, sweeping his hand around at the entire party. “I am here to correct your mistaken assumption that you are twins.”

The room fell silent. Donatello set the paper back in the box, staring at him. Leonardo’s brow creased in anger.

“We are twins, though,” he said, setting the box aside like it was burning him.

“No, you are not. There is simply no way that the two of you could be twins. It is biologically impossible.”

“You think that I’m so stupid I don’t know that?” Donatello demanded, getting up from the chair he was sitting in. “Are you doubting my intelligence?”

“Yes, if you honestly think you are twins with him, then I am.”

“Uhhh, Draxum,” said Michelangelo quickly, stepping between him and the now furious Donatello, “this was a… funny joke, but you can stop now-“

“This is not a joke. I am simply explaining the facts.”

“Yeah, well,” now Leonardo was on his feet, too, “the facts are that me and Donnie are twins. Always have been, always will be.”

“You are not,” Draxum insisted. “And given what I have seen here today, I’d think you’d both be relieved, since you clearly don’t enjoy being twins!”

Both boys looked like they’d just been slapped in the face. The rest of the room had gone completely silent, like everyone was collectively holding their breath.

Donatello broke first, turning on his heel and marching out of the room, his hands balled into fists and his shoulders hunched up as high as they could go. “Dee!” called Leonardo, and then he was scurrying off after him. There was the sound of a heavy door slamming, then silence.

It didn’t last long.

“Draxum!” roared the rat, actually getting up from his chair to get in Draxum’s face. “You come in here and upset my boys on their own birthday!?”

“Seriously not cool, Drax,” said the human April. Cassandra shook her head in shared disappointment behind her.

Draxum pushed Lou Jitsu back, scowling at his accusers. “I was only explaining reality! This is really the rat’s fault for letting their delusion go on so long.”

“Delusion!?”

“Barry!”

“Rat!?”

“Ooookay,” said Raphael suddenly, stepping his way into the middle of the fray and starting to herd Draxum back toward the exit. “That’s enough of that for now.”

“I am simply trying to explain-“

“Trust me, hoss, you wanna step away from this one,” said Raphael, and his tone was angry but surprisingly measured. “Come on.”

They retreated to the sewer tunnels outside the subway station. The smell was much worse out here, and Draxum wrinkled his nose.

“Alright.” Raphael heaved a sigh, folding his arms. “So here’s the deal. Mikey likes you, and I guess I kinda do too, so I’m gonna try to help you before you completely torpedo your chances with the rest of the guys. Which, you kinda did already, but maybe we can turn it around.”

“I still don’t understand why they’re so upset,” said Draxum. “Surely it was obvious they aren’t twins.”

“Uh, yeah, they know they aren’t twins by bio-whatever,” agreed Raphael. “They ain’t stupid.”

“Hmm.” Draxum turned up his nose. “Donatello isn’t stupid, maybe.”

“Leo ain’t stupid, either, he just pretends like it.” Raphael pinched his brow. “Listen, that isn’t the point - the point is they already know they didn’t come from the same egg or hatch the same day or whatever. They’re just twins anyway.”

“But how? That doesn’t make sense!”

Raphael sighed again. “Alright, look. Dad didn’t know when we hatched, right? But we all wanted birthday parties like we saw on TV, so he let us pick.”

“Yes. And for some reason Leonardo and Donatello chose the same day.” Draxum could figure that much out on his own.

Raphael nodded. “I was the biggest and oldest, and Mikey was the littlest and youngest, and Leo and Donnie were just kinda sandwiched in the middle. I think at first they just wanted a thing. Somethin’ that set them apart from me and Mikey, ya know?”

“Not really,” said Draxum. Raphael glared at him, and he sighed. “But go on.”

“So they picked the same birthday and called themselves twins. I think Pops just so glad they were actually getting along that he agreed to it. And I think he thought once we got to the day, and they realized they were really gonna have to share it, they’d both demand their own day instead. I know I thought that was gonna happen.” He smiled at the memory. “But the day came, and… they fussed the whole time just like they do now. Arguing about what kind of cake they wanted and who got to open their present first. But they didn’t ask to split. They kept it the same day, and they kept calling each other twins and it just stuck, until we didn’t question it anymore.”

“…They are both stubborn,” Draxum pointed out, and Raphael laughed once.

“Yeah, guess they are. But that’s not what this is.” Raphael shrugged. “They chose each other back then. Maybe at first it was just to have a thing, but then it became real. And every single year they keep choosing each other. That’s why they’re twins.”

Choosing each other as twins… Draxum furrowed his brow. “It’s not normally a choice,” he pointed out finally.

“Yeah, well, our family doesn’t get a lot of choices, so just let ‘em have this one, okay?”

“…Fine,” Draxum finally relented. “As long as it’s noted that this is purely a social designation, and not a biological one.”

“Uh, sure, whatever.” Raphael rolled his eyes. “Glad we got that cleared up, though. Think you can come back to the party and behave?”

Draxum wrinkled his nose at that phrasing, but nodded. “Yes. I will not bring it up again.”

“Good!” Raphael’s smile abruptly transitioned into something much more dangerous. “Because if you make my little brothers upset on their birthday again, I’ll remind you what it was like when we were enemies.”

Then the smile was back. “Now let’s go in!”

He walked back to the subway station, leaving Draxum to follow on his own. Draxum couldn’t help but sigh wistfully.

Raphael would have made a great general for his army.

———

The boys had already returned by the time Draxum got back. They were opening more gifts, and he noted they were wearing hoodies now - though they had apparently decided to swap their signature colors. They were smiling and chattering, and any hint of their earlier upset was gone.

Until Draxum stepped into their line of sight, and both of them went rigid, wary of him.

Apparently just talking to the red one was not enough. Draxum would have to do more. What a pain.

But he didn’t want the boys to hate him. So he sighed and launched into it.

“I… am sorry. I shouldn’t have said you aren’t twins.”

The boys looked surprised at that; slowly, their posture loosened back up.

“And… to make up for my present, I will… take the two of you wherever you want to go in the Hidden City.” The next words were painful, and he ground them out. “My treat.”

Leonardo and Donatello shifted their gaze from him to each other. They were silent, but it didn’t seem like they needed to talk to have a conversation.

Then they finally looked back at Draxum, slow grins growing over both their faces.

Eerily matching, very evil grins.

“Oh,” said Leonardo, happily menacing. “I think we can think of something.”

“I concur,” said Donatello in the exact same tone.

Oh, thought Draxum. Maybe they really are twins.

#dandy fanfiction #rottmnt #rise Leo #rise Donnie #rise raph #baron draxum #rise Mikey #disaster twins #I didn’t proofread this haha #I love the twins being twins by choice #Donnie and Leo had a big sappy talk sorry it was off screen

[ddejavvu]

OKOKOKOKKKKKK

What if reader is a member of the BAU and they're working super late on a case (like they're sitting on the roundtable at 2am or sm) and she unconsciously just says "god I would give the best head to anyone who gets me a taco bell (or any fast food) rn" AS A JOKE LIKE UNDER HER BREATH OR SM!!! BUT AARON HEARS???? AND HE JUST CHOKES ASHSHQHQBAB

this post is 18+, minors dni.

There's not much to eat at a police precinct in Kansas. It's two miles out from any restaurant, and there's a 24-hour burger place halfway back to town as your only other hope. JJ's munching on vending machine cheetos, Blake has instant ramen she'd packed in her go-bag, and Reid has a granola bar he'd stuck in his pocket. Morgan ate an hour ago, so he's not hungry, and that leaves Rossi and Hotch as your only possible dinner companions. There's nothing wrong with that, but you'd have an easier time asking JJ.

In fact, you lean over to the blonde, eyeing her cheetos with jealousy, "I'd suck someone's dick to get a burger right now."

You don't notice the way Hotch's stature tightens, his fingers nearly bending the papers he's sifting through. He's sure you hadn't meant for him to hear, so the logical thing to do is to ignore you. Even if it makes his dick a little hard.

JJ snorts at your crass statement, offering you a chip, "Morgan might have taken you up on that before he met Savannah."

The profiler's eyes widen slightly as he hears his name, and he looks up at you expectantly, "Hm?"

"Nothing," You stick your tongue out at Morgan, "We're teasing you."

Hotch's dick responds to that, too.

He waits five minutes before standing, just enough time to get control of his near-boner. When he's absolutely certain you won't see the faint outline of his bulge through his slacks he stands, clearing his throat and making sure to look at Rossi before you, just in case you put two and two together.

"Okay, who needs to eat?"

You're the first to raise your hand, and Hotch nods at you out of the corner of his eyes. Rossi does, too, and Hotch smooths the fabric of his suit over his stomach, "Alright, there's a fast food joint down the road. It's not gourmet, but it's quick and easy. Y/L/N, why don't you come with me, and Dave, send me your order and you can stay here to work."

"Yes, sir," You chime, happily hopping out of your seat. Stretching your legs feels wonderful, as does the prospect of a burger in your empty stomach. You lead the way to an SUV happily, Hotch trailing behind you, and your phone buzzes in your pocket just before you strap your seatbelt on.

JJ: Gonna suck his dick?

Shut up, you reply, he didn't hear me.

"Alright," Aaron sets both hands on the wheel, "Let me just read Dave's order, and we can go."

"Sounds good," You nod, leg bouncing in anticipation of your burger. Aaron swipes sideways at the message notification on his screen noticing two.

SSA D.R.: Cheeseburger with raw onions, fries well done, medium coke.

SSA D.R.: Enjoy your blowjob.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

[ooffmlsorry]

OP Men When You're Injured

Context: I don't mean mortally injured, I'm talking something not too serious that kind of inhibits your movement like a broken bone or recovery from a surgery

Law, Kid, Ace, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

Law

A/N: can we get a little commotion for this gif tho?? Why is he so perfect?? 😭

Law as a doctor is perfectly normal about your injury. He knows with some rest and eventual rehabilitation you'll be just fine. No big deal.

He makes sure you're healing well and comfortable, like he would with any patient

Law as your boyfriend is different.

In the case of an injury with no risk of infection, he'll press a kiss to it. Yes, like he's kissing your boo-boo 🥹

Law does not leave your side. He is your shadow. Where you go, he's right beside you or at the very least in the same room as you.

At first he deadass tries to convince you he's not lingering at all and he's the same as he always is.

But you both know he's lying. He practically moves his office wherever you decide to be for the day.

He can't help himself. What if you fall? What if you reinjure yourself? He's so pressed about the worst case scenarios, and given his past, can you blame him?

He quietly grumbles and pouts about his own "irrational" behavior because he knows in reality you can absolutely go about your day. You're a little slower but you're fine. But he just can't let you. As soon as you start to struggle, he's right beside you offering to help.

If you're aggravated by his hovering, he's twice as annoyed by it. He's literally so frustrated with himself lmao, you might end up having to comfort him instead.

Even if he complains (is it really complaining if he's actually happy lol) you're happy because all this extra time around you makes him extra affectionate. Law snuggles close to you, justifying his closeness by explaining how physical affection can lower cortisol levels.

KID

Oh Kid smh 😔he has no idea how to treat you so he just decides to behave like everything's normal lmao

Legitimately though, even if a inanimate object is what caused your injury, he's destroying it. Just out of pure fury that you were hurt.

He'll huff when you fall behind or have trouble doing something, but he just can't leave you to suffer

He's a man of action lol so he'll probably end up doing things for you just for efficiency sake. You're walking too slow? He picks you up. Can't grab or hold something? He'll do the whole thing for you and next time you try to do the same thing you find he's made something to make it a lot easier for you while you heal.

Anything you need to assist you he'll happily build.

If you have a cast or anything like that, he's gonna draw all over it (honestly, the whole crew will. You're gonna have the most bad ass cast ever)

He absolutely calls you a baby for wincing or complaining. He doesn't mean it...mostly.

If he's not keeping an eye on you than Killer is.

It's not like he's worried or anything! Fuck you for saying that!! He just doesn't want to hear or see you whining and complaining. It's annoying. Okay, sure Kid.

He genuinely hate seeing you in pain though, even if it's just wincing it reminds him of losing his arm and he never wants you to experience anything close to that.

ACE

Ace is your little emotional support boyfriend...or maybe it's the other way around 🤭.

He'll curl up at your side while you recuperate and completely dozes off.

He takes looking after you very seriously and asks Marco lots of questions, even if there's not a whole lot he can do.

He doesn't pity you, but he does feel really bad. Even if it was just an accident, he hates seeing you limited in any way.

He might accidentally treat you like you're made of glass.

It's just because he cares a lot, and he really doesn't want anything else to happen to you.

Every single morning he wakes up and asks how you're feeling or if you're in any pain.

There's a lot of people on the Moby Dick and accidents happen all the time, so don't be surprised when he literally clears a way for you to traverse around the ship.

I'm not saying he's impatient buuuut he will definitely glare at whatever part of you is injured and say, "Jeez, can you heal up already?"

He gives you space, but only if you ask for it. He just doesn't want you to feel like you're ever in this alone.

LUFFY

Luffy is neither patient nor gentle lol but he's extremely loyal

He'll goof off and continue to go on adventures, but he's not gone for long

Even his crew is surprised when tells them he's not going to get distracted because he knows you're back on the Sunny waiting for them.

He's always bringing cool things back to you since you can't do as much as you usually can. Just because you can't be right beside him doesn't mean you have to miss everything.

God bless him he's gonna try to bring you some meat so you'll heal faster 🤭.

He'll absolutely forget you're injured at some point and probably tackle hug you.

The last thing he'll let you do is stay cooped up in bed unless Chopper insists that you have to. Even if you need to rest you can do it right next to him on the head of the Sunny, right?

Exactly like Ace he's going to frown at whatever part of you is injured and say, "Jeez, can you heal up already?!"

He gets whatever you need and probably overdoes it. Need a glass of water? He just straight up brings you the whole barrel.

More is better! Besides, you need to hurry up and get better!

ZORO

He's not worried. He's so chill about it, actually. ...Until you start to move around.

The way he switches up is laugh worthy. He goes from nonchalant to overprotective in an instant.

He practically holds his breath as you make your way around the Sunny, watching you like a hawk.

Admittedly, he does tease you a little. He'll grab things for you, but hold them out of your reach or call you a little turtle if you move slower. He thinks it's very cute hehe.

For better or for worse, Zoro's not a hypocrite. He won't hound you to take it easy if you think you're up to a task. Even if Chopper really wishes he would.

He still won't leave you though, unless you're resting and stationary, he's by your side.

Zoro is your attack dog boyfriend. There's no way anyone (*ahem* Luffy) is fooling around too close to you. There's not going to be a chance you could get hurt more or reinjured.

When you're alone he checks in with you to make sure you're okay, not because he's shy about being soft in front of people but more so to protect your privacy.

He kind of likes doing extra things for you, he won't say it out loud but it makes him really happy when he can do things while you recover. He considers taking care of someone he loves to be such an honor.

SANJI

Unless whatever injured you is vitally important (e.g. the Sunny), he's kicking the shit out of it on principle because how dare anything even dare to hurt you lmao

Are you surprised that he dotes on you hand and foot? You shouldn't be.

I think it also goes without saying he is cooking you best meals.

They're gonna have to tie him down when it comes time for your rehabilitation because he wants to do everything for you.

He's such a sweet heart! He leaves you little messages like "you're doing great!" and "I love you!"

Literally this man lives with you on the ship and he still got you flowers, a get well card, and a little stuffed animal like he's not going to see you every single day

He loves carrying you (as long as it's Chopper approved). He's beaming down the sunny with you in his arms.

He makes the cutest little picnics so you can eat comfortably

Sanji's also an emotional support boyfriend lol. In between cooking for the crew and other duties, he's curled up right next to.

He might coddle you a little too much but it's just because he loves you so so so much

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #law x reader #one piece #one piece x reader headcanon #luffy x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #kid x reader #ace x reader #roronoa zoro #portgas d ac #trafalgar law

[marlenesluv]

lando + babysitting his drunk girlfriend

note: i love this sm. as someone that is usually the one babysitting my friends, this would melt my heart if someone did that for me fr, and lando would 100% be the one. also feel free to send headcannon ideas! :)

type: headcannon

۵ about every few weeks or so, you went out with the other wags to go clubbing without your boyfriends. yes, you loved your boyfriends, but they loomed and interfered quite a bit.

۵ so going out as a group was easier, not to mention that you all wanted to gossip.

۵ you told lando you were going with charlotte, isa, lily, carmen, kika, kelly, and laila. which was a bigger group than normal. usually it was just you, charlotte, isa, and kika, but everyone else was free!

۵ like always, you sent lando the location of the club, and turning on live location as well, just in case.

۵ while you were out with your girls, getting absolutely shitfaced, lando was at home watching friends reruns to try to ease his mind.

۵ lando knew you needed to go out with your friends without him, and he was fine with that, he just wanted you to be safe, and when you’re drunk?… you never know.

۵ after about five shots and four martinis, you knew you were drunk, too drunk to drive, and so was everyone else.

۵ at around 3am, kika called pierre and he came and picked her up, along with charlotte since he had been hanging out with charles.

۵ at 3:30am, lily threw up once in the bathroom as you called alex, “hey! alexxxx!!!!” you spoke, holding lilys hair back for her.

۵ alex knew from your voice that you were calling because lily was too drunk to uber, he didn’t think that was safe. so he came and got her.

۵ kelly and laila left before at 1:30am, claiming they had work in the morning. so all that remained was you, isa, and carmen.

۵ lando had been pacing around the living room as oscar loaded up another game of call of duty, trying to get landos mind to ease up.

۵ finally, lando just left oscar at his house, grabbing his keys, a hoodie for you, some comfy uggs, and driving to the club to get you.

۵ after about twenty minutes of him resisting your attempts to get him to stay and drink, you were sat in the passenger seat of his mclaren as he drove home, his hoodie on you and your uggs now on, a nice change from the four inch heels you had on.

۵ oscar had left earlier, knowing that lando would just want to be alone with you and take care of you.

۵ when you arrived to the house, lando opened your door for you, helping you to the front door and taking you shoes off for you and helping you sit down on the couch.

۵ at first, you’re very drunk, slurring words and giggling, but once you calm down, you’re just tired, and you want your boyfriend.

۵ constant sweet guidance:

۵ “sit down, sweetheart. i’ll get you a water.”

۵ “take these advil for me, hm? can you do that? there you go, thank you, love.” and gives you a little forehead kiss as he goes and makes you toast.

۵ and when you need to throw up, lando is pattering his feet right behind you on the way to the bathroom.

۵ he holds your hair back in a make-shift ponytail, rubbing your back and whispering to you to try and soothe you.

۵ after that, he gets you more advil and puts it by the bed in case you need some when you wake up, as well as new ice water in your water bottle.

۵ he makes sure that you eat, even if it’s just dry cereal or some cheese cubes. the last thing he wants is you with an empty stomach and having the potential of being sick again :(

۵ when he crawls into bed, he turns your favorite show on as you cuddle into his side, playing with his hoodie strings as his hands comb through your hair.

۵ “how are you feeling, pretty girl?” lando would ask, looking down at you as you shrug, “m’ok. thank you for taking care of me lan.”

۵ lando would smile, “i love taking care of you, now let’s go to sleep. wake me up if you need anything, okay?” you nod

۵ ‘i love you’s are exchanged as you both fall asleep.

۵ all and all, lando is the most sweet, endearing, and protective bf, especially when you’re drunk. he just wants you to be safe, and make sure you are comfortable.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

#lando norris #lando norris headcannons #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris blurb #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 headcanons #headcannons #f1 #f1 lando norris

[nerdpoe]

The Disappearance of Timothy Drake-Wayne, and how Watcher Mystery Files solved it in one episode.

Wrote it for a warm up, freaked out because I didn't know how to end it, copped out, wrote Omegaverse instead, finished another story, circled back to this one.

Anyways this was inspired by this post right here from @thebeeswantarson

it looks like this go reblog it

Alright here we go.

When the nosebleeds had started, Tim hadn’t really thought anything of it.

He’d waved away concerned friends and family, shoved tissues (and tampons, on one memorable occasion) up his nose, and gone about his day.

Then the migraines. Oh, the migraines.

After the increased migraines, increased stomach issues, and a few fainting spells that had even Bruce cornering him and demanding he see a doctor, Tim had acquiesced.

And the result after many CATscans and MRIs?

Nothing. No tumors, no signs of disease, normal bloodwork-nothing physical was wrong.

Nothing magical, either. He’d gone to some JLD members to ensure that.

After consulting with his small team of doctors, they finally managed to pinpoint what was driving his body to rebel against itself.

Stress.

Fucking stress.

Like some sort of swooning Victorian maiden, but with all the swooning and none of the cocaine.

So.

Tim had written email to his friends and family, sent them off, and proceeded to completely detach from the world around him in his most well-kept secret bunker.

Tim knew himself, and if he maintained contact with anyone then he’d inevitably go back to working on cases and undoing the de-stressing he was attempting.

He hadn’t been sure if it would work, or if the stress of not being able to connect to the others or work on cases would make things worse, but it had. Unorthodox, yes, but it worked! He’d relaxed and caught up on sleep!

But fully rested, and also more than a little bored, he knew it was time to get back into the swing of things.

Mournfully, Tim bid his state-of-the-art bunker goodbye and started going through the multiple airlocks to get outside.

The absolute second he stepped out, though, the air rippled and Kon was immediately there.

Kon looked…disheveled.

His hair was a wreck, he only had one sleeve of his jacket on, and…were those tear tracks?

Why was Kon crying?

Fuck, had the zombie apocalypse started while he’d been away?

Tim held out his hands in a calming motion, not breaking eye contact.

“It’ll be okay Kon; we can figure out what the cure is for the Zombie Plague.” Tim didn’t actually know if he could figure it out, but he didn’t want Kon to freak out anymore than he already was.

Tim’s hands were pushed aside in favor of being swept into an all-consuming hug, and-yup. Kon absolutely was crying into his shoulder.

Tim was officially concerned.

“Is Bart okay? Is Cassie okay? Kon, who’s hurt, what happened-“

“You, Rob. You’re okay. Shut up, I’m having a moment.”

Tim was even more confused, but that was alright; his brain started working without him.

Kon was crying, and emphasizing that Tim was okay. Kon had not realized that Tim was fine, ergo Kon had not received the email Tim had sent out.

Then Tim’s brain went Tim Big Brain.

Normally, a misconception like that would have been cleared up right away by someone else with correct information. But it hadn’t been cleared up at all, and Kon was never quiet about trying to save someone.

Thus, no one had known any different to what Kon had believed. No one had known to correct the misconception that he had found himself immersed in.

Therefore, the emails had not been sent out.

…

The…emails had not been sent out.

Oh fuck him the emails had not been sent out and he went on his merry way to an unlisted bunker with soundproofing for six fucking months.

“You were supposed to receive an email,” Tim muttered, horrified, as his arms wrapped around Kon as well.

Kon snorted wetly.

“Well I didn’t, and neither did anyone else.”

“Yeah, I kinda get that now. I’m in…so much trouble.”

Kon nodded into Tim’s shoulder, smearing snot and tears into his shirt. Tim didn’t even complain.

He was too busy realizing just how badly he was in for it.

~~~~~~

Bruce could feel the conversation he was trying to have begin to turn into another fight.

Dick was insisting that Ra’s Al Ghul had to be the one who had taken Tim, and had roped Damian in on it.

The problem was that there was no real concrete evidence that Ra’s had taken Tim, and Bruce refused to let them move in without intel on, at the very minimum, where Tim could have been taken.

Dick, naturally, was not happy with that answer.

Bruce, of course, refused to lose any more of his children. Especially if it was something he could have easily prevented.

“Father, if Grandfather has Drake it is only a matter of time before irreparable damage is done. We must move quickly.”

Bruce shook his head, standing more firmly in front of his oldest and youngest.

Dick looked ready to explode.

“Get out of the way, Bruce. I’m getting Tim.” Dick’s stance was tense, and his words moreso.

Bruce had no doubt this would devolve into a physical confrontation if he did not ed-escalate.

He opened his mouth to do just that when, with a shrill beeping sound, Oracle chimed in.

“Uh, guys? I think I just found Tim.”

Bruce felt something inside of himself relax, and didn’t bother to stop Dick and Damian as they charged past him to crowd the Batcomputer.

“Oracle, report; where is he?” Was he safe? Did he need help?

“About that…”

“Babs please!” Dick begged, knuckles white from where he gripped the console.

“He’s currently outrunning the paparazzi and a literal mob of Gothamites with phones.”

Bruce…had no idea how to respond to that.

Neither did Dick, apparently.

“They’re all livestreaming, so like; tracking him isn’t an issue,” Oracle supplied, like that made things make more sense.

The screen blinked, and four separate video feeds from random Gothamites showed Tim running from them at different angles.

“…Agent A, I believe it’d be best for you to pick him up.”

All eyes were on Tim; it would be weird if Batman swooped down to retrieve him.

~~~~~~

When Tim had Kon drop him off, he had been expecting maybe a second look or two when he stepped out of that alley.

What Kon may have neglected to mention, however, was that the disappearance of Timothy Drake-Wayne was all anyone had been talking about for four months. There were a lot of theories, but the most prevalent happened to be the most gruesome.

Popular theory one; Bruce Wayne murdered Timothy Drake-Wayne in cold blood after Timothy made a decision with Wayne Enterprises that infuriated the man.

Popular theory two; Timothy Drake-Wayne was being held for ransom, and Bruce Wayne was refusing to pay it. Effectively, it was the same as theory one but with more steps.

Popular theory three; Timothy Drake-Wayne had been captured by Gotham’s underbelly and sold into human trafficking.

And the fourth most popular theory; Timothy Drake-Wayne was abducted by aliens.

So when Tim stepped out of that alley, it wasn’t to an occasional second glance.

It was to excited whispers and impromptu livestreaming.

Naturally, Tim bolted.

He’d outrun one mob, only to run into another one. His face was all over the internet, he knew, and there was no way Barbara hadn’t caught on.

He hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going, really, and made the worst mistake he could have made at that particular point in time.

He ran in front of Wayne Enterprises.

There were two guys, presumably talking about his disappearance. One was average height, the other was tall, and both were clearly not from Gotham.

He heard tiny snatches of their conversation as he got closer, pinned the California accents, and shoved past them with a half shouted apology.

“Well would’ja lookit that, Ryan; looks like it just solved itself!”

“How?!”

Tim let them fall into the background and used his new bearings to beeline for Crime Alley.

After all, only idiots would follow someone into Crime Alley.

Unfortunately, after twenty minutes Tim was forced to admit that the general populace of Gotham probably wasn’t on the scale of normal he had been depending on.

They had indeed followed him all the way into Crime Alley.

So he tried to lose them even harder.

He shoved between muggers and their victims, blew through obvious drug deals, and jumped over the tables hosting poker games so intense that the players were fingering their weapons.

Still, the crowd followed him.

Tim took three quick turns, prepared to take a fourth, and was snatched out of the street and into an old building.

The hold was meant for restraint, and Tim couldn’t break out of it without making a lot of noise, which he really didn’t want to do.

Plus, he recognized the arms latched around him and keeping him in place.

“Thanks Hood,” Tim whisper-panted.

The arms got tighter.

“Kid, do you have any idea how many ops I blew searching for you?”

Oh.

Oh no.

“Was absolutely convinced trafficker filth had gotten their hands on my kid brother,” Hood continued quietly, the mechanical rasp making his words deceptively collected, “So I went ahead and destroyed some of my only leads on the off chance that I’d find him.”

Tim felt himself start to break out in a cold sweat.

“So…you need help picking up your old trails?”

“’Help’ feels wrong. I’m owed it, Timmers.”

~~~~~~

‘Timothy Drake-Wayne Returns from the Dead!’

Tim thought that the newspapers were, quite possibly exaggerating just a little.

Just like his family was overreacting.

He was to wear at least four trackers at all times, he had to check in four times a day, he had to help Red Hood with picking back up the case load he’d all but set on fire in search of Tim, and he had to take Damian wherever their youngest wanted to go.

Apparently, the Little Demon had been so concerned that Ra’s Al Ghul had Tim that he’d started having nightmares.

And Tim wasn’t gonna lie, he felt beyond shitty for that. Well, that and everything else.

He’d also been forced to tell Bruce the location of every single one of his bunkers.

He’d sulk but…Tim also kind of felt like the worlds biggest asshole.

So.

He’d just…remember to actually hit send, not save, next time.

#batman #red robin #superboy #nightwing #red hood #watchers #ryan bergera #shane madej #brief cameo but it's there #fanfic #tim drake #kon-el #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne

[cozage]

congratulations on reaching 2k 🫶💕

For the event, I was wondering if you could do option one with reader being hit on right in front of them? With shanks, Sanji, zoro and if possible Nami <3

Hehe I love your writing so much!!

Hii thank you! And thank you for the request :)

Characters: gn reader x Shanks, Sanji, Zoro, Nami Cw: creepy bar guys who can't take a hint Total word count: 730

Take a Hint

Shanks

Shanks’s reaction really depends on the kind of mood he’s in. 

Sometimes, you both go into a bar in a competitive mind, trying to see who can get more free drinks throughout the night. 

He enjoys watching guys trying to flirt with you. Plus, free booze is free booze. It’s funny how they never seem to ask if you’re there with someone before they buy you a round. 

But sometimes it really rubs him the wrong way (especially when he’s in the middle of a conversation with you and someone interrupts him to talk to you). 

He usually says some snarky comment like “If you’re going to buy one for my friend here, you should probably buy one for me, considering we’re together.”

He doesn’t ever start a fight, but he will finish them. And he will always take up for you if someone says something rude to you or tries to put their hands on you. 

Sanji

People rarely get the chance to try and flirt with you because Sanji is literally all over you 24/7. He wants everyone to know that he belongs to you. 

However, there are some brave (and foolish) souls that sometimes try while he’s got his back turned or he steps away from a moment. 

The moment he is back, he immediately steps between you and the man who’s trying to shoot his shot. “Is this guy bothering you?” he’ll ask.

He’ll turn back to the guy, his curly brows furrowed in anger. “Unless you want to get your ass kicked, buddy, you might want to move along.”

Afterward the flirter leaves, Sanji will fawn over you, asking if the man hurt you or did anything that made you uncomfortable. He won't relax until he knows for sure you’re okay. 

Zoro

Zoro knows you can handle yourself. And besides, it’s amusing to watch. 

He lets you handle the situation. Most of the guys take rejections pretty well, but there are a few stubborn ones who insist on buying you a drink even after you’ve turned them down. So you accept a drink.

When you accept, Zoro’s focus on you usually sharpens slightly. He watches carefully for any passes this guy might try to make on you. If you show even an ounce of discomfort, Zoro’s hand is resting on his blade, just in case. 

Your eyes meet his, and he’ll mouth “You okay?”. If yes, he’ll leave you be. But if it’s no, he’ll take action. 

He’ll position himself between you and the man, taking a nice long drink of the alcohol the guy bought you. Then he’ll plant a kiss firmly on your lips and smirk at you, ignoring the fussing happening from the other man. 

“Listen man,” he’ll say, resting his hand on his blade as he turns to him. “I think you need to learn what rejection is. So why don’t you just buzz off, and leave us alone to enjoy this fine alcohol?”

If it leads to a fight, that’s fine. Zoro has never minded fighting for your honor before. And he’s never lost a bar fight. 

Nami

Listen, Nami is no stranger to people flirting with her. And neither are you. 

Plus, free things are always better. Which is why you two set up a system. 

If a guy starts flirting with you and can’t take a hint, well, he’s basically just inviting in some unfortunate circumstances. 

So you let him buy you a drink. Maybe two, if you’re feeling crazy. You keep him distracted, telling him stories about your life. 

Of course he thinks you need saving by a big strong man or whatever he imagines he is. He has no clue you could knock him out in about 3 seconds flat. But you just smile and listen to his clearly made-up stories. 

Meanwhile, Nami is absolutely robbing him blind. It’s actually hilarious to watch. She starts out with his wallet, but she slowly gets more confident as he gets more drunk. She steals his necklace, watch, even his rings. She’s truly amazing at thievery; you can’t help but be in awe at her skill.

At the end of the night, he goes to pay his tab, and you and Nami quietly slip out together hand-in-hand, serenaded by the screams of panic from that dreadful man.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #shanks #red haired shanks #shanks x reader #shanks x y/n #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #nami #nami x reader #nami x y/n #cozage #✧˚shanks✧˚ #✧˚sanji✧˚ #✧˚zoro✧˚ #✧˚nami✧˚

[rynbutt]

mansplaining. | spencer reid.

request: @a-second-hand-sorrow "hey queen, just wanted to say i absolutely love your spencer stuff, you write him so well!! as a fellow aussie I was wondering if maybe you could write something with spencer and an australian reader? just something cute and silly, maybe with him infodumping everything he knows about australia ahaha, love your work!"

you can find my other fics on my masterlist.

requests are open!

cw: fem!aus!reader, none really, fluffy, silly fr

a/n: short and sweet hehe

Henry held your hand tight as you guided him to the elevator.

JJ had just gotten back from a trip to Michigan for a case. She ended up sleeping for a couple hours before she had to go back into work again, all before little Henry woke up for the day. Since she hadn’t seen her son in almost three weeks, you thought it would be nice to bring Henry to her with some lunch as a surprise.

You had been JJ and Will’s nanny for almost 8 months now. Since Will had returned to work and JJ’s job was still incredibly demanding, they started looking for a nanny for their 3-year-old son. You just so happened to be looking for a job and to finally put your experience as a nursery assistant back home to good use. 

“You excited to see mummy?” You asked Henry as you stood in the elevator, his little FBI visitor badge far too big on his little body.

“Yeah!” He replied excitedly, jumping up and down while still holding your hand. You had taken Henry to pick up some lunch at JJ’s favourite place then let Henry pick out a pastry for each of you to have for dessert.

“Alright, remember, you have to hold on tight to my hand, okay? There are lots of people around,” you reminded the young boy, crouching down to his level.

“Uh huh,” Henry nodded, his tiny hand squeezing yours.

The elevator dinged and you gently guided Henry toward the bullpen, silently searching for JJ’s office. Henry stayed close to you as you swerved through the busy agents. You decided to ask someone who you thought looked vaguely familiar.

“Uh, Emily, right?” You gestured toward the dark haired woman sitting at her desk.

She glanced up at you, seeming to recognise you and little Henry almost instantly, “Oh hey! You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yeah, I was just wondering if you could point me in the direction of JJ’s office-”

“Did you know the Australian mainland extends from west to east for nearly 2,500 miles?” someone behind you said, obviously hearing your Australian accent.

Emily rolled her eyes and looked at you, “don’t mind, Reid.”

You turned around to look at ‘Reid’, he was cute, probably the young doctor JJ told you about. You pointed at him, “Dr. Spencer Reid, right?”

He ignored you, “And most of the rocks forming the foundation of Australia are from the Precambrian and Paleozoic time… about 4.6 billion and 252 million years ago respectively,” he looked up at you, “yes, I’m Dr. Reid.”

“Mm,” you hummed.

“I’ll go get JJ for you,” Emily sighed, frowning disapprovingly at Reid. You sat down next to Emily’s desk, picking up Henry to sit him in your lap.

“Where are you from?” Another man asked, “I’m Derek Morgan, you must be Henry’s nanny?”

“Yeah, I am… I’m from Melbourne,” you smiled.

Spencer interjected, “Melbourne isn’t said like that. The spelling negates that.”

“Kid… she’s from there, I think she knows how it’s said,” Morgan retorted. 

You just chuckled softly, “I’d love to hear you mansplain my country to me, Dr. Reid.”

“I’m not mansplaining,” Spencer replied, seeming offended.

“You kind of are,” Morgan added, leaning back in his chair.

“Mansplaining!” Henry exclaimed, making both you and Morgan laugh. Henry bolted from your lap the moment he saw his mum. You stood up to greet JJ as little Henry tackled her in a hug.

“What are you guys doing here?” JJ asked, cuddling Henry close to her.

“We thought we would surprise you for lunch,” you smiled, “Henry picked some pastries out for us too, for dessert… I hope it’s okay?”

“No, it’s perfect,” JJ replied, “it’s just what I needed honestly,” she sighed, giving you a side hug as she guided you to her office.

Henry sat on the floor playing with a few toys you brought along for him while you and JJ talked, “so, that Dr. Reid? He’s a character.”

“You met him, huh?” she leans back in her chair with a laugh.

“Oh yeah,” you replied, “he seems…” you trailed off.

JJ nodded knowingly, “Yeah, he’s like that.”

“He’s cute though,” you shrugged with a small laugh.

“Mm, I’ll make sure to tell him that,” JJ teased.

“Don’t you dare,” you retorted quickly. 

You spent the last half an hour of JJ’s break sitting with her and Henry on the floor helping him do a puzzle he had left from the last time he was here. It was nice for JJ to see her son, she missed him terribly but she knew he was in good hands with you.

JJ had to get back to work shortly after and she squeezed Henry in a tight hug, reminding you she might be late again tonight, which you didn’t mind. 

“Say ‘bye-bye’, mummy!” You held Henry’s hand, waving at JJ. 

“Bye-bye, mommy!” Henry called, waving his little hand around. 

You spun around, guiding Henry through the bullpen again before an idea popped into your head. You turned on your heel at the side of Spencer’s desk.

“Hey, Dr. Reid?” You asked softly.

“Yes?” He peered up at you.

“Ever heard of drop bears?”

a/n: i hope you liked it! i know it was a short one but i think it's funny. another chapter of pierced coming soon >:)

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #x reader #spencer reid fluff #cm spencer #dr reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #australian reader #spencer

[artaxlivs]

Were they kidding with this bullshit? Like, seriously? So many gates opening up to different dimensions now that there were too many for Supergirl to close and this? This is what they got? Fuck this. Seriously.

"Are you a virgin?" Mike asked like the total little dickhead he is.

"So what if I am? Aren't you? And the rest of your little friends?" Eddie sniped back at the rude little bastard but then, he blanched, "actually, don't answer that. I don't want to know."

Why did this have to be happening when Eddie was on a perimeter check?

Mike rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe how ridiculous Eddie was being, "Dumbass, we're children. Unicorns never go to innocent children in fairy tales. Because we're all innocent. They go to innocent adults. Virgins." He put far too much emphasis on the word because he is, as mentioned, a little dickhead.

"Listen, fuck you and the unicorn you rode in on. I'm not fucking innocent. I've done...things. Things I'm not gonna tell you about!" Eddie sputtered, crossing his arms and almost losing his precarious balance on the tree branch.

He needed to be careful because there was a unicorn circling underneath him. And not the beautiful, ethereal kind. It was beautiful, sure, but it had blood all over his muzzle and splattered across it's chest and on it's front hooves. Probably from the last virgin it had tracked down in god knows what dimension and trampled slash eaten to death. It's eyes were blazing red fire and it had fangs. Fangs. Fuck. That.

Eddie heard Steve sighing and then he flailed an arm from Eddie's tree branch to Robin and said, "It can't be trying to get you because you're a virgin, it's not going anywhere near Robin!"

The girl in question squeaked. Her ears and cheeks went bright red. All three of them turned to look at her.

"Wait, what? Was it you know who? From the...? You didn't tell me? When did you...?" Steve asked cryptically, shedding absolutely no light on who Buckley was knocking boots with.

"Yes after we met at the...place." Robin supplied lamely and then bared her teeth and said through them, "After. But before we went back in to fight Henry slash Vecna slash One." She shrugged and let out a hysterical sounding giggle. "It was...End of the World Sex. Just in case, you know?"

"Ohhhh I'm so proud of you!" And oddly, Steve really did sound proud. Which was weird. Eddie was pretty sure Robin was gay which meant the caginess was in reference to a girl but the fact that Steve was so supportive was a little suprising.

Without actively thinking about the repercussions, Eddie's mouth decided to test that theory, "Well damn, wish I'd have thought of that. Steve - want to deflower me so this unicorn leaves me alone?" The hysterical giggle Eddie let out rivaled Robin's.

Slowly Steve turned back to him but before he could reply, Mike scoffed, "You are his type. Skinny, big bushy hair, big eyes, you and Nancy both talk like everyone is just waiting to listen to you to speak." He rolled his eyes, "Annoying."

"Rude!" Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully, "You know what though? I'm fine with it. Nancy Wheeler is a badass and I want to be her when I grow up. Or when I get down from this tree." Eddie cringed, staring down as the unicorn stopped and looked up, one of it's flaming eyes bore into him. It neighed, shaking it's gorgeous mane but also splattering little droplets of blood everywhere.

Gross. So gross.

"Huh. Now that you mention it..." Robin stared up at Eddie thoughtfully, "I totally see it."

Steve just dragged his hand down his face and glared at the angry unicorn, "Okay, we need a real plan because Eddie isn't coordinated enough to have sex in a tree." He put his hands on his hips like a baseball mom wondering if she brought enough orange slices and Shastas for the whole team. "Do we know any other adult virgins to lure this one away?"

Mike snorted, "Those are probably more rare than the unicorn.'

Eddie flipped him off, "You're rolling at disadvantage on all charisma and persuasion checks for the rest of time."

"We'll have to find a new DM when the unicorn gores you anyway," Mike shrugged. "Whatever."

Then he wandered off. Just walked away, like Eddie wasn't two feet away from being mauled by a feral beast who's name was probably Glitter Sparkle or some shit. What a dickhead.

Looking away from the unicorn, Eddie watched Robin wave Steve over and whisper to him. They had a hushed conversation for several minutes while Eddie yelled things like, "Wanna share with the class?" and "Good friends don't make shitty plans in secret!" But they ignored him. Bastards.

Until Steve turned to the tree and asked, "By 'things' what do you mean?"

What?

"Harrington, what the hell are you talking about?"

"You said you've done 'things' but not had sex. What things?" Steve brushed a hand through his miraculously still perfect hair, and sighed, obviously frustrated, "We're trying to figure out what the unicorn considers virginity. Robin's never..." He petered off and glanced back at her and then over at Mike who was half way down the block with his radio out, sitting on a bench with his back to them, probably telling everyone that Eddie still had his V card. Traitor.

He was too far away for them to hear his conversation so he was probably too far for theirs.

Robin cleared her throat. "I've never had, you know, penetrative sex. Just...um...uh...third base!" She squeaked again and then covered her face with her hands.

"You're being extremely weird about sex talk while a blood covered unicorn is stalking me like a jungle cat!" Eddie informed her. "Oral. Just say oral sex, you weirdo!"

"Ok fine!" She shouted, "I've given and reciprocated oral sex! Jesus." Then she crossed her arms and grumbled under her breath, tapping one foot on the grass.

Eddie couldn't help it. He laughed with glee. "Was she cute?"

Robin sputtered, mouth dropping in shock.

What? Did she think she was a subtle lesbian? Because she wasn't. Not at all. Her high tops had boobs drawn on them like some twelve year old boy just hitting puberty. He rolled his eyes.

Steve looked up at Eddie then. His eyebrows were arched in that way they get when he's thinking up a plan. They're not always good plans but he carries them out and everyone usually lives so, Eddie could do worse. "Well - Big Boy?" Steve's lips twitched in a smile at using Eddie's nickname for him. "I'm guessing when you said you've done 'things,' you were lying?"

"Yeah, duh." Eddie retorted, snapping in his irritation and mounting fear. Mounting, ha. Like a horse and like sex. Mounting. He bit his lip to contain the very poorly timed giggle.

Robin rolled her eyes, grabbed Steve's arm and gave him a severe 'be careful' look and then hustled over to where Mike was sitting. When Steve tucked his bat into his backpack and started to creep around the tree, he realized she was giving them privacy. Holy shit.

The unicorn didn't even acknowledge Steve's presence as he skirted around it and climbed the tree, grunting and complaining under his breath how nobody better call him the Virginsitter because he swears to God. Then the rest of his grumbling got lost, buried under the sound of Eddie's heart pounding in his ears.

Holy shit.

And that's how Eddie lost his mythically constructed virginity in a tree to Steve Harrington who was apparently bisexual and very, very good at blowjobs.

Neither of them even noticed which way the unicorn went.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #feral unicorns #it's a thing #I'm making it a thing #virginity is a man made construct to place value on a women's virtue and fuck that nonsense