#AYE I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY

[dazais-guardian-angel]

this torture we're going through with the anime must be divine karma for slandering Bones all this time...... they said "oh, you don't like how we adapt things? you say the manga does it better?? okay then, well now there is no more manga. it's Bones or bust, bitches."

[littlepissbabee]

The ship is ass but damn ppl were hella harsh

[landoughnut]

You're Dating Him?! - LN4

masterlist - request

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!fem!reader

summary: lando's been soft launching, but when someone spots the youngest leclerc out with him in Italy, her brothers don't react as they'd hoped

w/c & a/n: smau | I need smau fic ideas, chat gpt is not helping 😭

lando

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell, maxverstappen1, and 1,832,075 others

lando nice and needed vacation ☀️

view all comments

user1 IS THAT A G-GIRL ⁉️⁉️

carlossainz55 aye you bastard answer my messages 😑 ♥︎ by author

charles_leclerc looks like little lando norris is all grown up 🥺

maxfewtrell oh he's all grown up all right 😏

lando maxfewtrell you keep your mouth SHUT

charles_leclerc maxfewtrell ????

user2 damn we got lando soft launching before gta 6

user3 she looks oddly familiar but I can't think of how

maxfewtrell 😶

user3 maxfewtrell TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW

maxfewtrell user3 🤐

user3 maxfewtrell you BITCH

oscarpiastri looking tan mate 👍 ♥︎ by author

user4 do we think oscar knows who she is

maxverstappen1 why was I not informed about this

lando because you have connections 😄

maxverstappen1 lando so you're assuming I'd tell others ??

lando maxverstappen1 don't play the victim we all know you love to gossip 🙄

user4 lando says max v has connections to her 🤔 does that mean she's part of the f1 world ♥︎ by author

user5 YOU'RE ONTO SOMETHING

user6 LANDO LIKING ?????

user7 maybe she's a sister of one of the drivers??

user8 no way that would ever happen lmao

lando

liked by charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, and 2,310,871 others

lando they do say Italy is the country of love 🫶

view all comments

user9 soldiers we've lost him 🫡

carlossainz55 🫡😢 ♥︎ by author

user10 carlossainz55 LMAOAOAO its okay carlando lives on forever

oscarpiastri don't do anything I wouldn't do kids 👍

lando I'm literally older than you 🤓 and she's your age...

user11 NEW INFORMATION UNLOCKED ‼️ mystery girl is brunette, 23, knows f1

user12 that unfortunately doesn't really help much

user11 user12 yet...

danielricciardo since when did you take good pictures 🤨 ♥︎ by author

lando she taught me 🤭

user13 THAT SHOULD BE ME HOLDING YOUR HAND 💔

alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous girl ♥︎ by author

maxverstappen1 I recognize that back...

lando SHUT UPPPP

lando maxverstappen1 wait wdym you recognize her back 😾

charles_leclerc hey my sister went to Italy recently too lmao imagine if you ran into her

lando heh that would be pretty funny 😅

maxfewtrell lando can you be anymore obvious mate

yourusername I cant charles is so oblivious 😭

lando

liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 2,310,871 others

lando 🌊🛥️ maxfewtrell

view all comments

maxverstappen1 interesting...

oscarpiastri stay hydrated folks 👍

lando yes dad 👍

charles_leclerc looking clean 🔥 ♥︎ by author

arthur_leclerc cute couple 🤝 ♥︎ by author

lando I hope you'll still think that when you realizewho she is

maxfewtrell 🤪

arthur_leclerc maxfewtrell 🤔

carlossainz55 you two better be keeping it PG 👀😏

lando more like MA

charles_leclerc lando be safe use protection ☝️

maxfewtrell charles_leclerc ☠️

charles_leclerc maxfewtrell ?????

alexandrasaintmleux tell her I said hi 🎀 ♥︎ by author

charles_leclerc you know who she is??

alexandrasaintmleux charles_leclerc hehe....

user14 I HAVE A SUSPICION ON WHO IT IS BUT Y'ALL WILL CALL ME CRAZY

user15 SPILL

user14 user15 I THINK SHE'S yourusername

user14 hear me out: she's oscars age (who are both 23), she's brunette (like charles lorenzo and arthur), charles told us that his sister recently went to Italy on lando's post of pics from there, she liked this post, AND alexandra (charles' gf) commented on this and the last post

user16 user14 WAITTTTTT I THINK YOU'RE RIGHT

yourusername

liked by lando, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell, alexandrasaintmleux, and 2,310,871 others

yourusername cat's out of the bag I guess 🤗 this is my cutesy boyfriend lando 💗

view all comments

user17 WHATATATATAAT YOU'RE WHO LANDO HAS BEEN SOFT LAUNCHING ⁉️

maxverstappen1 I KNEW IT ♥︎ by author

user7 I CALLED IT BRO I SAID A DRIVERS SISTER AND YALL DOUBTED

user8 IM SORRY 😣

oscarpiastri finally!! congrats 👍 ♥︎ by author

maxfewtrell NOOOO I WAS HAVING FUN TROLLING

yourusername yeah we know 😄

user18 how did lando pull a leclerc

lando excuse me???

user19 lando she's literally an angel and then you're.... lando

yourusername user19 that's exactly why I love him :)

lando yourusername I love you too baby 🥺 ♥︎ by author

charles_leclerc what the FUCK.

charles_leclerc I'LL KILL HIM

charles_leclerc WHAT THE FUCK WHY ARE YOU HUGGING THAT THING

lando "THAT THING" ⁉️⁉️

charles_leclerc lando fuck off je ne te parlais pas

lando charles_leclerc I don't understand french 😢

yourusername lando maybe it's for the better my love 🥰

charles_leclerc yourusername "MY LOVE"???? UNBLOCK ME AND ANSWER MY CALLS

alexandrasaintmleux yourusername don't unblock him he's got steam coming out of his ears... and arthur also showed up

maxfewtrell 😎🍿 ♥︎ by author

lando glad you're enjoying this while I'm fearing for my life

charles_leclerc WHO THE FUCK DOES HE THINK HE IS TOUCHING MY BABY SISTER????

arthur_leclerc WHY IS HIS MOUTH ON YOURS IN THAT TWEET

charles_leclerc POURQUOI TU SORS AVEC LUI?? JE VAIS LE POUSSER DANS LES BARRIÈRES SUR LA VOIE, ATTENDS JUSTE

charles_leclerc lando YOU SAID YOU WERE KEEPING IT MA ON THIS VACATION

arthur_leclerc don't worry bro I'm sharpening my axe 🥰

lando arthur_leclerc AXE?!?!!? WHY DO YOU HAVE AN AXE??

maxverstappen1 lando it was nice competing with you

lando ☹️

user20 damn lando I wasn't familiar with your game 😮‍💨

lando everyone being so surprised that she's dating me is quite insulting 😪

leclerc_pascale beautiful ❤️ ♥︎ by author

yourusername I LOVE YOU MAMAN

lando I'm too pretty to die 💔

arthur_leclerc who lied to you??

lando arthur_leclerc your sister I guess ♥︎ by author

lorenzotl lando you're only digging your grave deeper

lorenzotl I'm so happy for you ma petite soeur ❤️ ♥︎ by author

yourusername thank you enzo I love you ❤️

arthur_leclerc lorenzotl YOU'RE OKAY WITH THIS ?????

charles_leclerc does he make you happy.

yourusername yes very happy 🥹

charles_leclerc yourusername is he respectful.

yourusername charles_leclerc he couldn't be more of a gentleman

charles_leclerc yourusername I still don't like this 😡 but... I'll give him a chance

lando charles_leclerc THANK YOU PLEASE DON'T KILL ME I SWEAR I'LL BE THE BEST BROTHER IN LAW

arthur_leclerc lando BROTHER IN LAW?????

[rawme-price]

Omg a pt 5 to my reader and her dog riley?? This is getting out of hand...

Anyways reader figures ghost out lol

Despite what gaz may say about you, u are not totally oblivious. You tend to notice when guys are interested in you, its just that ghost is so embarrassed about the effect you have on him that he's deadset on avoiding you. Everytime you even mutter praise for ur beloved riley, ghost is already out the door. Its a bit odd, you and ghost actually do have nice chats when riley isn't around, his dark humor and casual vibe is actually pretty charming.

It happens by chance while you and the guys are eating lunch, a rare occasion but one you enjoy very much. Soap is happily explaining how he got his callsign, when you furrow your brow and ask "Wait, what even is your last name? I've only ever heard people call you soap or johnny."

Soap grins, you've fallen right into his and gazs plan "Aye, i guess you wouldn' know would ye?" He muses, attempting to hide his grin "mines MacTavish, gaz is garrick, price is well...price, and ghost is riley."

"Riley?" You ask, looking at ghost, "dude, you share a name with my dog! Isn't that cool?"

You joke about it, but you can see the blush creeping up his neck when all he does is grunt. You file that away for later and go back to listening to soap.

A few days later, you and ghost are in the common area simply enjoying eachothers presence. He's lying spread across the couch, and ur working on the puzzle that's been taking up the coffee table for the better part of three weeks. Riley's not with u today, having been taken to the beach to go play with ur friends dogs. You miss him, but luckily your friend sends you a video of the big guy!

He's just so cute, covered in sand and chasing the other dogs! You smile at your phone, hand reaching up to pat ghosts bicep.

"Ghost! Ghost, look at this!" You dont wait for him to respond, knowing he will look "its riley at the beach! Look how cute he is!" You enthuse, leaning over so he can properly see the screen from his position.

"Riley's such an energetic boy, he loves to play! God, hes just amazing, I know hes having a great time right now. Hes such a good boy!"

The strangled sound ghost makes has you pausing, actually looking at him instead of gushing about riley. He's flushed, eyes wide as they stare up at you. You only now realize how close you are, leaning against his torso slightly, muscles stiff under your touch.

A grin splits your face, dots connecting. "Oh, this does something for you doesn't it?" You ask, and he looks like hes about ready to bolt, but too scared to push you away.

"Do you like hearing your name on my tongue? Or is it the praise?" His breath hitches, "hm, thought so. You wanna be my good boy, ghost?"

"Simon- its simon" he barely manages to respond, a gasp leaving his mouth as you lean closer, practically plastering to his side.

"Okay then, simon" you agree easily, relishing in the way his skin reddens. A hand trails up to rub his bicep, groping at the muscles you've been eyeing for far too long. "Cmon simon, be good for me."

He whines, outright and needy when you straddle his waist, large hands coming up to grab your thighs. He's already rock hard beneath you, grinding up almost unconsciously. Simon doesn't protest when you hook a finger under the surgical mask he wears, pulling it off to reveal the pretty part of his lips as he sighs. You cant resist leaning down and kissing him, feeling the way his lips press against yours warmly.

Youre snaking a hand under his shirt when a loud and pointed cough startles you two. Both of your heads whip around to see price with his arms crossed, looking thoroughly unamused.

"This is a public room," he points out, sounding vaguely disappointed despite the gleam in his eye "take this somewhere private."

As he walks out, you swear you can hear a muttered fucking finally.

(Omg wow hope yall enjoyed. fi you thought i was gonna make reader anything other than dominant ur in the WRONG HOUSE im a sub ghost truther!! I promise ill write the actual smut eventually lol.)

[cupidsworstcrime]

Johnny x pregnant!reader

inspo - @goatgoesmbe

just some fluff

You were waddling—no, let’s be honest—shuffling to the kitchen when Johnny latched onto your back again. Like a damn backpack. His arms hooked under your belly, lifting it just enough to take the edge off. And okay, yeah. It felt incredible. You sighed out loud.

“That good, aye?” he hummed smugly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Told ya. Human belly-sling, at yer service.”

“I appreciate it,” you muttered, already steering both of you toward the fridge. “But I need to pee.”

“Alright, let’s go.” He didn’t let go.

You stopped. He didn’t.

“…Johnny.”

“Aye?”

“You can’t come with me.”

He blinked like you just told him you joined Makarov’s team. “What d’you mean I can’t come?”

“It’s the bathroom, Johnny.”

"I've seen you naked.”

“This is different.”

He gasped. Genuinely gasped. Like you’d slapped him. “Are you… are you leavin’ me?”

You blinked.

“I can’t believe yer divorcin’ me over this. After everythin’. After I rubbed cocoa butter on yer stretch marks like it was holy oil.” He started shuffling backward, arms flailing dramatically. “Fine then. I’ll go. I’ll go. Don’t worry abou' me.”

You watched him storm into the bedroom and emerge with a whole-ass suitcase.

“Where are you going?” you asked flatly.

“To the couch. Hope you and the toilet have a great life together.”

You snorted. “You forgot your toothbrush, drama queen.”

“Yer heartless.”

[softaestluv]

Grease & Grime Won’t Break Your Bones

You never thought you were attracted to grease and grime, sweat and exhaustion, definitely needed a shower and scrub, but no one has worn it like he is.

Mechanic! Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem! reader

Tags: dirty, greasy, grimy, sweaty, blue collar worker, yeah I’ll take one of those! you own a pick up, & I actually don’t know anything about cars, eventual smut

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Ao3 | masterlist

You’re entirely too eager to return to ‘Ghost’s Garage.’ Maybe you walk through the front doors of the rundown shop a little early, definitely do.

Your shitty pick-up probably only needs to be topped off, but you did drive 3000 miles, and it’s not like being on top of maintenance would hurt.

So, you brush your arrival off as maintaining the integrity of your pick-up, and not the fact that sweat drenched skin and a Manchester accent hasn’t left the confines of your mind since.

Unfortunately, you’re not greeted by Simon when you arrive, instead, blonde hair is replaced with a brown Mohawk, said English accent replaced by a Scottish one.

“Oi, hello lass!” The man greets, a wide smile on his lips.

“Oh, hi,” You respond, giving him a tight smile in return, “Is Simon not here?”

“Aye, he’s busy wi’ another car right now, but ah can help ye, nae worries,” He explains, with an encouraging nod.

You try your best to hide the disappointment in your tone, but its hard when you did your hair this morning with Simon in mind, when you wore your uncomfortable pencil skirt to work with him in mind, when you showed up after work instead of on your day off because you had been hoping that you could see him just as filthy after a full days of work.

“Ah, okay,” You mumble quietly, “I just need my oil changed is all.”

You can’t help, but mourn the money you’re about to spend on an oil change you don’t really need, when the whole reason you were so adamant to return isn’t plausible. It’s too late to walk out now, how desperate would you look if you left because Simon wouldn’t be the one working on your car?

So, you accept your fate, that it wasn’t in the cards, listen to the new man’s instructions and pull your truck into the service drive.

Guilt eats at your chest because it’s not really the mohawked mans fault; he isn’t even ugly, definitely a sight for sore eyes— desperate eyes that is. He wears less than Simon had, a white tank top that’s a little too tight for him, and worn in jeans with more than one rip in them. Wears it a little braver than Simon had, smug and confident, probably a heartthrob for all the mom’s cars he works on, probably flirts with all of them too with no actual intentions, just to make them feel good.

When you park in the service drive, your wandering eyes find Simon across the garage, bent over the hood of a car. It’s not your truck; you won’t get to talk to him, but you think it’s worth it when he’s bent so low over the sedan that his white shirt rises over his hips as he reaches forward. The sliver revealed is paler than the rest of his bronzed skin, freckles littered across the lighter flesh, draws excess saliva in your cheeks, embarrassingly so, over an inch of skin.

But it makes your mind wander, filthy images of connecting the sun marks with timid fingers and shaking hesitation, find out how far down the brown freckles trail.

You don’t have to imagine for long, not when he realizes you’re standing across the garage, gawking at him with a ravenous hunger in your eyes, and starts to walk over to you. He dabs at the sweat on his hairline, makes his shirt rise even higher, reveals light brown freckles curled over his abdomen and a blonde happy trail disappearing into his coveralls.

It’s almost impossible to force your eyes up, find his gaze when he’s walking around like that. With his fucking happy trail on display between the sweat drenched skin and grimy oil marks. The spitting image of a hard working man, powerful and stout, makes a stinging warmth coil in your limbs, thighs pressing tightly together.

“Hi,” You squeak when he stops in front of you, cheeks burning hot in embarrassment because you can’t decide if getting caught drawing lewd shapes with his freckles outweighs the reward of him approaching you.

“Hi, sweeth’art.”— and you decide right then and there that getting caught was worth it when the deep timbre of his voice washes over your shoulders.

He’s positively filthy, more so than last time.

Wet, greasy.

You can smell it on him just as strongly as you can see it on his skin. Like car oil that sat out for too long, the rubber burnt off tires.

A heavy musk, acrid, pungent odor.

You have half the mind to know you should be disgusted by it, that a dirty mechanic calling you a term of endearment should crawl under your skin and make you uncomfortable, but it does the complete opposite. It’s not like you have much of a fight in that game when you were just greedily memorizing his blonde tufts of hair, picturing how it would curl over his pelvis, matted and damp from his hard work.

Even still, you’re pinpointing all the places fingerprint grease stains would imprint on your skin in his wake. How thick the layers of sweat and grime would taste on your tongue.

“Johnny, I got ‘his one, okay?” He shouts to the other side of the garage.

Johnny wears a devious smirk on his face, but Simon doesn’t let you see it for long, shifting to face you just as quickly as he wore it.

You’re not sure if you took a step forward or if Simon was standing this close to begin with. Maybe he was just truly this massive, but you have to tilt your head back just to look at him. He doesn’t necessarily make it easy either, not when he stares down at you with piercing eyes, makes you feel out of your own skin.

“You jus’ need yer oil again?” He asks.

You nod, licking your lips, “Yes, but I thought you were busy? You don’t have to stop to help.”

“Don’t y’worry,” He reassures, shaking his head, “I’ll do it, told you t’come back ‘n you listened didn’t ya?”

You can’t do anything else but nod because you did listen, practically thought of any excuse to find yourself back in his office, his thick build over your engine over you, as soon as possible.

Simon’s lips twitch at your agreement, “Jus’ sit in my office, yeah? No worries, I’ll take care of you.”

You find yourself back in Simon’s office, a warmth to your skin that you can’t seem to shake, not when you keep thinking of every imaginable way he could take care of you. It only gets worse when you perch yourself on the edge of the seat to get the best view of him working on your pick-up.

Maybe it’s something primal, but seeing his large frame bent over, working on your truck and not someone else’s sedan flares satisfaction in your chest. Especially when you watch his sweat drip from his forehead onto your engine, splattered droplets on your blue hood.

If it was anyone else it would make your stomach twist in disgust, gnawing at the back of your mind until you could wipe the hood clean, but it’s not. You’re not entirely sure why you feel this way, maybe it’s his physique that allows you to brush these things off, but it scratches at something carnal in your conscious.

You don’t get much time to appreciate the divots in his shoulders and neck like you truly wanted, like a specimen of his kind really deserves, when Johnny walks in the room. You fall back into the chair quickly, trying to hide the way you were practically leaning forward desperately to see Simon.

He wears a knowing smile, but thankfully, he doesn’t say anything about it, “Didnae think ma work would be up tae par?”

You chuckle lightly, shaking your head, “No, Simon insisted.”

“Never heard of tha’ man takin’ on extra work willingly,” He jokes, leaning against the window sill— quiet irritation settling in your stomach as he covers Simon completely from your view.

“Must be that skirt yer wearin’.”

Your eyes widen, face burning, “Jus’ my work clothes.”

You’re not lying, they are your work clothes, just happen to be the more form fitting ones, is all.

“And your work clothes?” You remark, arching your brow at him, gesturing from head to toe, because his outfit is entirely more barren than yours is.

“Workin’ man’s uniform,” He shrugs nonchalantly, but he struts across the thin office and does a twirl for you, propping his hip out as he poses.

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can, Simon walks into the office.

“Johnny, I thought I told ya to stop harassin’ our customers.”

“Ah’m doin’ nae such thing. Just tellin’ lass here she might’ve got oil grease on her skirt.”

You furrow your brows at his words, looking down at the front of your skirt with a pout because you really didn’t want to stain the skirt without a purpose, except you don’t see anything.

“Nae, nae,” He shakes his head, gesturing to your back.

You do a spin of sorts, arching your head to find what he’s referring to.

“Johnny.” Simon spits.

His tone has more bite to it than you completely understand, but he grabs your arm, pushing you to face forward again.

“There’s nothin’,” Simon explains.

You’re still confused, brows still pinched together, until you look at Johnny, a proud smile smeared across his face.

“Aw, come on, ye liked it jus’ as much, Si,” Johnny teases, realization dawning on you, throat constricting in embarrassment, but he mumbles an apologize when he meets Simon’s scowl.

“Your pick-ups ready for ya,” Simon says, ignoring Johnny.

You follow him out of the office gratefully, too humiliated to even think for yourself right now.

“Is it too much?” You ask Simon with a frown.

“Huh?”

You tug on the seams of your skirt as an explanation.

“Oh,” He says before pausing, “No, no ‘ts not— you look great.”

“Thank you,” You murmur bashfully, atleast you got a compliment out of the whole ordeal, “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothin’.”

“No!” You protest, “You have to let me pay you back somehow!”

You’re not prepared for the way his expression changes, irises dipping into something dark, and you’re definitely not prepared for his next request.

“Do a twirl just f’me?”

✦.─Masterlist ─.✦

[gloomwitchwrites]

His teammates call you because he isn't handling the break up well.

I'm gonna be honest, Anon. I went a more humorous route with this (but some angst in there too because why not!) I'm just imagining all of them being completely pathetic and the one calling is on the phone like "come get your man please." So, with that being said, I hope you enjoy this!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, some angst, established relationship, breakups. brief humor

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“You have two minutes,” you say immediately after answering your phone.

“You need to call him,” comes Simon’s gruff voice on the other end.

You’ve only met Simon a handful of times, but he’s always been your favorite of John’s team. He has consistently treated you with kindness and respect, and he never oversteps boundaries.

“Why?” you ask, glancing at your nails, pretending you don’t care.

“He fucking misses you.”

“That’s not enough of a reason,” you reply.

It isn’t. Not really. Even if your heart aches and your stomach flips from hearing it.

“Captain isn’t taking the breakup well.”

You want to say that you aren’t either, even though you’re the one who ended things. In reality, you miss John. It’s agonizing.

“And?” you ask, trying to hide the slight crack in your voice.

“He has us running laps around the fucking track, love. Haven’t done that since I was a grunt who couldn’t properly tie his boot laces.”

You sigh. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

“Yes.” Simon’s response is immediate.

Rubbing your temple, you decide to take a leap. It wouldn’t hurt to talk. Not really. “Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

“Thank fuck,” he breathes.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“This is absurd,” you mutter, rubbing the middle of your brow, irritation building in the back of your head.

“Just give us a few minutes,” comes Captain Price’s voice. It’s Kyle’s boss, but he’s not the only one on the phone.

“Oh, aye. Hear us out.” Soap is there, too.

For all you know, Ghost is lingering on the call, a silent entity listening in but not saying anything.

“Why? Give me a reason?”

“Kyle misses you,” says Price.

“He loves you, lass.”

This isn’t new information. You’re aware of how Kyle feels but that doesn’t change things. The two of you are not together anymore. He needs to move on.

“He’s not handling the breakup well.” This time it’s Ghost. The silent man speaks.

“What do you want me to do,” you sigh.

“Talk to him,” says Price.

“No.”

Your phone buzzes and you hold it away from your ear. It’s a text from Price. You click on it, revealing a photo.

It’s Kyle. He’s curled up in his bed in the barracks, clutching a teddy bear he won you at a carnival on your first date.

“We can come get you,” says Price.

“Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“I’m sorry, John. But you shouldn’t have called. I don’t want to hear it.”

There is a deep sigh on the other end of the phone. You respect Captain John Price. The few times you’ve met him, he’d been pleasant, and he was always the first one to greet you whenever you visited Johnny on base.

“I understand that you broke it off with him.”

“John—”

“Listen. Please.”

He genuinely sounds concerned, and that gives you pause.

It’s not like you and Johnny ended things on bad terms. His life is busy. It’s dangerous. You just don’t fit in it, and the stress of never knowing when or if he’s going to come home is something far to difficult a thing to carry with you.

“He’s been struggling. Had to corner him in my office to get him to talk. He’s really hurting.”

You swallow. Lick your lips. “Why are you calling me, John?”

“I want you to talk to him.”

“John—”

“Soap is currently facedown in his bed in the barracks. Sulking.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to him.”

“In person,” says John. It sounds like a command. Not an ask.

“Fine, John,” you reply, grabbing your car keys.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“You need to talk to him. Simon is a bloody mess.”

“He’s fine, Johnny. He’ll get over. There was no reason for you to call me.”

Johnny snorts on the other end. “You don’t think so? I thought he was going to crush a new recruit’s skull in this morning.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not interested in talking with Simon right now.”

Is it really a breakup? No. Not really. More like a separation. Simon has your whole heart, but he’s stubborn and cold. His shell is difficult to crack.

“That’s too bad. Because I’m here.”

“You’re—what?”

“Aye. Walking up to your front door right now.”

You blink. Aghast. “John MacTavish you better not—”

There is a sharp series of knocks at your front door. “You gotta be fucking kidding me,” you mutter.

Growling, you storm to the front door, phone still pressed to your ear. You unlatch the deadbolt and yank the door open. Johnny is standing on the other side, his phone also held to his ear. He gives you his biggest grin.

You want to smack it right off his face.

“What are you doing?”

Johnny ends the call. “I’m taking you to Simon.”

[ari-ana-bel-la]

We need Carlos being comforted by daughter reader after the Canadian gp qualifying 🥺🥺

My Little Sunshine

The Montreal air was thick with frustration and disappointment as Carlos climbed out of the car. The helmet came off with a sharp, practiced yank, his brows furrowed beneath damp curls. P17. Seventeenth. It might as well have been last.

He took a breath—deep, controlled, as his engineer approached with a tablet, numbers and deltas and sector times lighting up the screen. Carlos barely looked at it.

“I don't want to see it,” he muttered.

The engineer blinked. “Okay. Debrief at 4:30?”

Carlos just nodded. His hands went to his hips as he stared at the car, painted in Williams blue and white. He was grateful for the opportunity, truly. But today, everything just hurt. The tires hadn’t hooked up. The wind was unpredictable. And traffic during his final push lap ruined what little momentum he had.

He turned away from the car and walked toward the back of the garage, head low, pretending not to hear the murmurs of the media gathering just outside the barrier.

From behind the coffee counter, one of the mechanics—Jules—watched him quietly. “Tough one,” he whispered to his colleague. “Hope he’s okay.”

Carlos heard none of it. His mind buzzed with frustration, replaying every turn, every tenth he’d lost. He dropped onto a padded bench, elbows on knees, staring at the concrete floor.

And then—

“Papá?”

The small, familiar voice came from just outside the back of the garage, where a gentle breeze blew through the open flap.

Carlos looked up.

There she was—Yn, his little sunshine. Six years old, her dark curls bouncing in the breeze, a pair of oversized Williams headphones over her ears and a lanyard with her paddock pass swinging against her tiny chest. She held something behind her back, her smile as radiant as ever.

Carlos tried to smile, but it was tight. “Hola, mi vida.”

Yn stepped closer, lowering her voice in the way kids do when they think they’re in a serious moment. “Are you sad?”

Carlos sighed and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees again. “A little bit, sí.”

Yn tilted her head. “Did your car break?”

“No,” he said softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “The car was okay. But Papá didn’t do a good job in qualifying.”

“You didn’t win?”

He shook his head. “Not even close.”

Yn seemed to think for a moment. Then, with both hands, she brought the hidden treasure from behind her back—a handful of white wildflowers. Daisies, messy and imperfect, with a few tiny green stems still clinging to them.

“I picked these for you!” she said brightly, holding them up to him. “Because you're the bestest driver. And I love you even when you don't win.”

Carlos blinked.

His heart squeezed so tightly in his chest he could barely breathe. Slowly, he took the flowers, cradling them gently in his calloused palms. They were a little wilted, a little crooked—but beautiful. Perfect.

“You picked these for me?” he asked, voice cracking just a little.

Yn nodded proudly. “By the fence! I had to be very careful because there were bees.”

He chuckled softly, the sound like sunlight after a storm. “Gracias, mi corazón. They’re beautiful.”

She smiled, and he scooped her up without another word, pulling her into his lap and holding her close. Yn giggled as he kissed both her cheeks, over and over.

“Mwah! Mwah! Mwah! Ay, you’re going to have too many kisses!”

“Nooo!” she squealed, giggling louder. “Not too many!”

Carlos’s arms wrapped tightly around her, burying his face into her shoulder. The scent of sun-warmed skin and strawberry shampoo hit him like comfort itself. His breath slowed. The ache in his chest lessened.

“You always know how to make Papá feel better, don’t you?” he murmured.

“I’m your special girl,” she said, with that proud little tilt of her chin that she definitely got from her mother.

He smiled against her shoulder. “Sí, you are. My special, perfect girl.”

Rebecca appeared a moment later, walking around the side of the hospitality tent. She looked elegant and calm, but her expression softened when she saw Carlos holding Yn so tightly.

“She saw you walking back looking all gloomy,” she said gently. “Told me she had a job to do.”

Carlos met his wife’s eyes and gave her a grateful nod. “She did more than a job. She saved me.”

Rebecca came over and sat beside them, reaching out to smooth Yn’s curls as Carlos continued to cradle their daughter.

“I know today wasn’t easy,” Rebecca said softly, her gaze on him. “But it’s just one qualifying. You always bounce back.”

“I know.” Carlos exhaled, leaning his head against hers. “It just… it gets to you sometimes. All the work, and then it goes wrong in a second. And you start to think—maybe it’s you. Maybe you’re not good enough anymore.”

Rebecca’s hand gripped his knee. “Hey. Don’t talk like that.”

“I’m being honest.”

“And I love you for that,” she said. “But don’t forget who you are, Carlos. You’re a fighter. You always have been. And this little girl?” She pointed to Yn, who was now playing with Carlos’s fingers. “She thinks you’re a superhero.”

Carlos smiled as Yn traced his palm, her small fingers exploring each line.

“I want to drive fast one day too,” Yn said suddenly. “Like you.”

“Really?” Carlos raised a brow, amused. “You want to be a racing driver?”

“Yes! But I want pink on my car,” she added seriously.

Carlos laughed, a full, warm sound. “We’ll make sure it’s the fastest pink car on the track, then.”

Behind them, a few team members had wandered over, watching quietly. There was something about the moment—Carlos’s smile returning, Yn’s happy chatter, Rebecca’s calm presence—that made the air feel lighter in the garage.

Jules turned to another mechanic and whispered, “Look at him. He needed that.”

The other man smiled. “Kid’s got superpowers.”

Back on the bench, Carlos stood up with Yn in his arms and looked at the white flowers again, still held tightly in his hand.

“Where should I put them?” he asked.

“Maybe in your room!” Yn said. “So you can see them before the race and feel happy.”

“That’s a very good idea.”

Rebecca stood as well, brushing dust off her pants. “Come on, I’ll help you get a little vase for them.”

They walked back toward the hospitality suite, Carlos holding Yn like she weighed nothing, her arms around his neck. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he could feel the soft rhythm of her breath against his collarbone.

“Papá?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re not allowed to be sad anymore.”

He smiled. “Is that so?”

“Uh-huh. Because I love you always, even if you're last. But I know you won’t be last, because you're amazing.”

Carlos kissed the top of her head. “You’re too good for me.”

“Nooo,” she said, snuggling in closer. “You’re my Papá.”

Later that afternoon, after the flowers were safely in a cup on his nightstand and Yn had gone off with Rebecca for a snack, Carlos returned to the garage for the debrief.

As he walked in, everyone looked up—expecting maybe the same low-energy version of him from earlier. But he was different now. His eyes were brighter. Shoulders relaxed. The white flowers were tucked gently into his water bottle like a makeshift vase.

“Better?” his engineer asked with a careful smile.

Carlos glanced at the flowers, then at his teammates.

“Much better,” he said. “I’ve got my lucky charm with me now.”

The team laughed, and the tension lifted like clouds parting after a storm.

As they settled into the meeting, someone whispered from the back, “We should give Yn a team radio. Bet she'd motivate him better than we do.”

And as Carlos sat down, fingers brushing the petals once more, he thought—

No matter what happens tomorrow, I’ve already won where it counts.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-♡○♡

[cupcakeinat0r]

Still thinking of Dadbod!Miguel to this day…

“I wonder what she’s up to right now. I hope she’s having fun.”

Your voice rings against the tiles of a shared bathroom, the lights of the grand mirror bleeding into the dark bedroom adjacent to it. The only other light illuminating the space was the tv, which was for nothing because no one was watching; it was merely background noise.

“Probably running and yapping circles around them, keeping everyone up, as per usual.” You hear the rich timbre of your boyfriend from the bed. You lean back from the sink to search his expression, a knowing smile accompanied by a raised brow, framed by bifocals hanging low on his nose. Everything about your partner exuded strength, except in his vision. Poor thing could never quite make out the words of his books without them.

You and Miguel knew how energetic Gabby was. It explained her unbelievably crazy stamina showcased in her soccer games, scoring goals for her team. And as if it wasn’t uncontainable enough, Miguel insisted on always getting her ice cream afterwards, failing to turn down her precious little pleads for a sweet treat. Even though you’d give him the look, you could never deny her either. You were both push overs.

“Sounds like someone I know.” You mirror his expression, the tease in your tone registered by him.

“Hey, I’ll gladly admit to being the reason for keeping you up at night.” The gravel of his words and his dashing smile makes you retreat back to the mirror. You apply the last step of your nightly routine while smiling like an idiot. You could always play cheeky with Mig, but nine times out of ten, he’d match your energy or double it, so inevitably, you’d always lose that contest. But you didn’t mind it. You loved that Miguel was always turned on, even by the smallest of things. He was always hungry for you.

Taking your bashful giggle as a sign of his victory, he returns to his book, one that looks too small for his hands.

He speaks whilst eyes are glued to the page, “But I’m sure she’s having fun, mamita. She’s always adored her cousins. And her uncle, for that matter.”

“Gabriel is pretty good with her.” You say with a smile as you leave the bathroom.

“Yeah, maybe too good. Starting to think you and him are the favorite.” He sets the book and his glasses onto the nightstand to draw his attention all on you: the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen, even bare faced and in pjs.

With curled lips and folded arms, you look down at him. Like a child waiting for his teddy bear, his arms spread out for you to fall into, like he does every night when he waits for you to finally come out the bathroom.

“Babyyy, not true,” you can’t help but look all over your man, the bed frame only just fitting him; The figure of a man who maybe lets his daughter choose dessert over sliced fruit too much, but that’s more than okay. More to cling onto at night.

You climb into bed, the sheets feeling nice and warm, but nothing compared to the beautiful blend of cushion and hardness your boyfriend has somehow mastered.

“Mamita… Gabby is crazy about you. She wouldn’t stop asking for you after the first time you went to her game with me.”

“I know Gabby loves me, but it doesn’t mean she loves you any less.”

“Oh, I know, I know…” you both shuffle in bed as you find a comfortable position for the night, tangled bodies exchanging equal parts of coolness and warmth. Miguel flinches and lets out a small ‘ay’ when your frozen-solid feet touch his legs, to which you softly apologize immediately, adding a kiss.

“But she really is in love with you. She’s actually, uh…”

He looks down at the minuscule space between you two, looking to finish his sentence,

“… been wanting to call you ‘mom’ for a bit now.”

You smile widely at the admission, “wait what?!” Your quiet disbelief makes Miguel smile, too.

“Yeah,” his voice softens. “She’s just been nervous to say so, but she’s told me.” His fingers trace shapes on your outer thigh, his gentle gaze spilling with adoration.

He lets out a short huff, “What can I say, it’s hard not to fall completely head over heels with you. I don’t blame her.” As if you couldn’t get any closer to him, he presses you against him even more. The air of his words hits your nose and lips slightly, the lowness and slight sleepiness in his voice stirring your core.

You don’t know what to say other than, “I just love you so much, Mig.” You shake your head faintly side to side. A million stars shine in your eyes, your smile ear to ear in this moment. “And to think I got you and Gabriella as a package deal. I literally won the lottery. Seeing how you are with Gabby? That’s what got me sold.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“…So it wasn’t the five star restaurants or the gifts or the trips-?” You fall into a fit of soft laughter with him.

“Baby, please, you know that wasn’t it!” You kick him under the sheets. For the entirety of your relationship, you always reminded him that the material things never mattered. You were huge on making sure he never felt taken advantage of, even though he took great pleasure in taking care of you.

“Nah, beba, I’m just messing with you. I know you’re not like that, c’mon now.” His hand messages your shoulder.

“But seriously… you’re such a good dad. I hope you know how good you’ve done with Gabby, even by yourself.”

“I try. Thank you, mama.” He humbly whispers before planting a hard kiss to your forehead, inhaling your scent.

“And thank you for treating her like your own. You treat her so good. Watching you two… I dunno, it’s like my fuel. So thank you for accepting her. And for accepting me.” Your foreheads touch now.

“I know talking to someone whose got kids isn’t always ideal-“

“What?” You scoff.

“Are you kidding? The second you told me you had Gabby, I wanted to give you another one.”

And the look Miguel gives you is all too familiar.

“Oh yeah?” His eyes look you up and down. He mumbles, “You never told me that.”

“Well, it’s true, I did… I thought it was so sweet the way you spoke about her that first dinner. And when I came over for the first time? Seeing you with her?” Your eyes widened,

“Jesus, I’m surprised I didn’t let you stay the night and-“

“And what?” Miguel cuts you off, his own breath growing short.

“Nooo, I shouldn’t say.” I feign a shameful look, your eyes darting away and failing to stifle a smile.

“Nonono,” Miguel gets on top of you, forcing you to look up at him, “Don’t stop talking now.” He starts to laugh when you do, the both of you breaking out once again that night.

“Alright, you wanna know the first thing I thought after that dinner? Our five-hour-long dinner?”

You furrow your brows, “Oh God, what?”

“I thought…” he lowers himself down, racking through and locking his fingers into your hair, cradling your head, “that she’s the one.”

Your bottom lip pouts at the declaration. “Aw baby, really?”

“Yeah…” he pauses for a moment, a guilty expression painted on his face,

“and that I also wanted to stay over and do unspeakable things to you.”

Your head falls back into the pillow and you let out a shocked laugh, cupping your mouth.

“Don’t laugh, it had been a while for me. I was deprived.” He tries his best to stay serious, but your contagious laughter is impossible to not gush over.

“Well,” you catch my breath, “not anymore.” You bite your lip, “We live under one roof now. One bed.” Your hands trail up and down his hairy chest.

He grunts, his face falling to the crook of your neck, “Gracias a dios.” He softly murmurs into your skin, “‘cuz I dunno how much longer I could’ve taken having to say bye to you at the end of every night.”

“Me either,” your sigh out.

“Baby…” you continue,

“Yes, mamita?” Your neck muffles his words.

“Guess what?”

“Hm?”

“Gabby isn’t home.” You remind him in a whisper.

Miguel lifts his head, your words clocking into his mind.

Oh, right…

“Then what the hell are we doing? C’mere.”

He sits up on the bed, placing your legs on other side of his waist. with the most wolfish smirk you’ve ever seen, marking the beginning of a very,

Very,

Very long night.

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Twenty One

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.1k words - AO3 CW: 18+ mdni, discussion of kidnapping, sedation. Angst.

“Da?” Penny points at the guest room. “Bunny?” 

“Aye lamb, Bunny.” He tries not to look at the door, tries to push away the avalanche of despair. If he could dig it free it from his brain, he would. He’d take it away from everyone, you, Si, himself. He’d rewind time, take it all back, start from the beginning and fix it all. 

The memories burn like fire. They’re ash in the back of his throat. 

“We’d never hurt ye, we jus’ want to take ye home.” 

��What a lie. Who were they kidding, doing this? Pretending they were some knights in shining armor, coming to rescue you? 

They became everything you feared. 

Pen nestles into his neck, gripping his shirt as she wiggles. “Story?” 

“Jus’ one alright?” She signs okay, and sighs. 

“Gus?” He grits his teeth. Penny's love for Gus has been a tiny bright spot in an abysmal expanse of misery, but her obsession just reminds him of everything else. 

“Gus is downstairs, it’s nap time.” He can feel the tumultuous slope of a tantrum, Penny’s mood ratcheting up and up until it explodes. She’s tired, and stressed, too much like her Dad, reading the emotions in the house like its second nature. She knows something is wrong. 

“Gus Gus,” her lower lip trembles, legs kicking. “Wan’ Gus Gus.” 

“Ye’ll see Gus later.” She doesn’t understand anything that’s happened, and the guilt eats at him, at what they’ve done to their family, what they’ve brought into their home. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

He holds her tight, kisses her forehead. “I love ye, Penny.” She sniffles. 

“Luh you.” 

 “Not at all?” 

“No idea mate. Looked at me like she’s never seen me a day in her life. A bit bizarre if you ask me.” Simon rubs a hand over his face. “But she also pointedly avoided looking at me. Tried to make herself smaller.” Johnny grimaces. They've moved as fast as they could, but you didn't make it easy.

In a weird way, Johnny is proud of you.

“How does she seem?” He knows this answer. To not recognize Kyle you must be tired beyond belief, operating on autopilot, frozen stiff with fear. 

“Skittish. Exhausted. Scared.” His shoulders slump, entire body sinking into the cushions of the couch. Your frightened face haunts his dreams, a little rabbit running for her life. He can't imagine how you must feel, believing you were betrayed by them, running away with their babe in your belly.

In another life, maybe they’d stay in Scotland with you. He’d show you all the things he loves about it, all the things he still calls home, the same things he showed Pen. Maybe it would be different. 

“Did you get it done?” Simon interrupts his spiral, redirects their focus. 

“Yeah, managed to slip it into the little pocket at the top, she had no idea. It’s online and I sent you guys the link; you should be able to see the ping. I’ll stay on her until you get here.” 

“From a distance.” Simon reiterates, and Kyle scoffs. 

“Do you think I’m an amateur?” 

Penny isn’t in her room after her nap. 

She gets up at the same time everyday without fail, dependable clockwork that they work their lives around. 

Johnny’s heart jumps into his throat. Logical thinking starts to fade away into panic, fear, his fumbling fingers swiping at his phone just as her little giggle echoes from down the hall, and relief rushes through his bones.

She's in your room. Curled up in your side, feet in your lap, little palm on your belly, staring up at you like you hung the stars in the sky. 

“And then the cow said-” 

“Moooo!” He’s sick at the sight, another tidal wave of grief pulling him out to sea, reminding him of things they’ll probably never have now, your love, your trust, a family with you.

But you haven't left, a desperate voice in his head reminds him, you've had plenty of opportunities, but stays here. Why? 

Maybe all hope isn't lost.

“That’s right,” you brush her wispy curls back from her face and smile, “you’re such a smart girl Pen.” She pats the curve of your stomach, and then signs. 

“Baby?” Your hand folds over hers, and Johnny’s throat is so tight he can barely breathe. “My baby.” You laugh, and she giggles as you hug her close, kissing the top of her head. 

“This is your baby brother or sister Pen. What do you think? Boy? Or girl?” Penny shrugs, giving you a sheepish look. 

“Gus?” 

“Didn’t you see Gus earlier? Did you feed him breakfast?” There’s some shuffling, and she wiggles down to the floor, waiting patiently as you groan and swing your legs over the bed. “Alright, he could probably use some more fish flakes anyway.” You look tired, weary, but still your smile is soft for Penny, gentle and encouraging. 

It fades when you catch him in the doorway. 

“Hey.” You nod, the small spark in your eyes dying immediately as you watch him cautiously. Like he’s a threat. 

“How long have you been standing there?” 

“Er, not long.” What’s another lie in the long list of transgressions at this point? 

“Pen wants to see Gus so… I thought I’d take her downstairs.” You shift uneasily, and he steps aside. Penny’s hand is tucked in yours, and a vision of one of you falling, tripping, and taking the other down flashes in his mind. 

“Be careful on the stairs Pen.” She goes down on her knees now, backward, sliding her stomach across each step in a slow but methodical process. One that could trip you up. “I can take ye down-” 

“No,” she vehemently refuses, “I do it.” 

“She can do it on her own.�� You back her up immediately, both of his girls united in solid opposition against him. Bleedin’ Christ. Penny points downstairs. 

“Da. Gus.” She signs for both, for once oblivious to your agitation, and he winces when you shoot him an annoyed look. 

“I’ve got her Johnny.” 

“Okay,” Penny’s already started on her descent, and you hold onto the banister, still glaring at him. He gulps. “Ye be careful too.” For a second, the storm breaks, the thunder rolls over the hill into the distance, torrential downpour turning a drizzle, and the sun tries to peek through the clouds. Sadness and longing, flickers in your eyes, so clearly displayed that it urges him forward, a step too close. You back away. 

The sun is gone, and the storm rages. 

The prefilled syringe glints in the sunlight where it sits on the table. Johnny tries not to look at it. 

“Are ye sure-” 

“No,” Simon snaps, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, I’m not. But I don’t see what our choices are. We can’t leave her on her own with Graves at large. I promised… I promised she’d be safe. That I’d take care of her.” 

“We both did.” 

“Well we did a shit job.” He pales when he looks back at the needle. “We’re one hundred percent sure? It’s not going to harm them?” 

“Aye, triple checked. Safe for mum and baby.” They sit across from one another in silence. Simon is far away, somewhere even Johnny can’t reach him, and when he speaks next, his voice cracks. 

“She’s going to be so scared. She won’t understand what’s happening.” He covers his face, heels of his hands pressing into his eyes. “She already thinks… she thinks we’re a threat. She’s not going to listen to anything we say.” 

“I know.” 

“We have to do it this way.” He’s whispering, locked in an endless battle of wills with himself, and Johnny reaches for his hand. He doesn’t know what else to do. Sick with dread twisting his heart, he knows the options are limited. He knows this is a good course of action, possibly the safest, the most rational. 

Even if it will turn them into your monsters.

“I know, Si. I know.” 

You’re on the patio. 

He’s found you there a few times, curled up on the outdoor couch, sun on your face as you read or scroll on your phone. 

He wants to go to you, encouraged by the sliver of something he saw in your eyes earlier, but he knows he can’t. If he pushes too hard, it will only make you retreat.

“She’s been out there for an hour.” Simon stands at his side, and if you look up, you’ll see both of them staring. Watching. 

“Did ye talk to her?” 

“Tried. She ignored me.” 

“Did ye actually?” His patience is thin today, a fine thread threatening to fray. “Try?” Johnny knows what it truly is, this avoidance of you. Simon brings you meals, checks in, but keeps away, holds his position at a firm distance. 

He can’t live with himself. 

“Johnny,” it’s a warning shot, but he chooses not to pay it any attention. 

“Did ye? Try at all? Because I haven’t seen ye try since we got home, since that day she woke up.” Simon stiffens. 

“She doesn’t want me.” 

“She doesnae want either o’ us Si. What did ye think would happen? That everything would be fine and she would forgive us? She would trust us automatically?” He’s on the verge of yelling now, and instead of trying to soothe him as usual, Simon scowls and turns away. Johnny snaps. “We said it’d take time an’ work but ye’re jus’ runnin’ away now, every chance ye get, an’ leavin’ everything to me!” 

“I…” He’s never seen his husband so lost. These past two weeks, every day he’s slipped further and further away, and nothing Johnny says or does brings him back. “I can’t, Johnny.” 

“Ye have to try.” For her. For me. For your family. Simon shakes his head. 

“I can’t.” 

“Jesus.” The heel of your palm goes to your temple, and he holds his breath. “What-” You trail off as you look up, take them in, guilty as sin. 

If only his Ma could see him now. See what he’s done. 

You shoot upward, scrambling towards the head of the bed, eyes wide and frozen with fear. 

Shaking and terrified. A little rabbit caught in a snare. Their snare.

You watch them like they're executioners leading you to the block. 

“Wh-what…” 

“Listen to us sweetheart, just listen,” Simon soothes, voice low and cautious but fast because he knows they’ve got to get it out, establish the truth right away. “You’re safe, everything’s okay, you and the baby, you’re safe here.” You shake your head, tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“You… b-brought me back?” Your voice cracks. “You brought me back and n-now he’s…” you break apart on a sob. 

“He’s never going to touch ye ever again, bunny. We swear it. I know,” you try to scoot off the bed, but Simon holds you still by your shoulders. They have to get this out, have to get through this part no matter how difficult it is, no matter how much you don't want to listen. You have to hear the truth, the reasoning.

“I know you don’t believe us, but we can prove it.” Johnny pulls out his phone and clicks open the secure email attachment. It’s the mission report from when Graves betrayed them outside the Mexican Special Forces base, and it’s only partially redacted thanks to Kate.

It’s a risk. 

It will confirm your fears and dissolve them. It will tell you who they truly are, what they truly do, while proving they’re telling the truth. 

It’s a gamble. 

“Read this,” Simon pushes it into your hand and you recoil. It doesn’t stop him, he wraps your brittle fingers around it and then stands, Johnny right behind him. “Take as long as you need. We’ll be here.” 

“Did ye like it?” You refuse to look at him, half of a pot pie eaten and sitting at your side on the tray. No answer. 

You blink at the ceiling. 

“Wanted to check in, see if ye needed anything?” Please, say something. Say anything. “Somethin’ else to eat, maybe? Si said ye didnae eat much of yer lunch. Are ye feeling sick again?” You’ve been having bouts of nausea, which you’ve told them is normal. You said you brought it up with your midwife at your appointment last week, she wasn’t concerned, and left it that. He knows you only supplied the information because they were badgering you about it, and as you told them the other day-

“I’d do anything to get you to leave me the fuck alone.” 

When you turn to look at him, he almost wishes you hadn’t. 

There’s a lifetime of pain in your eyes. Anger. Distrust. Hurt. All of it caused by their hand, their decisions. 

He tries anyway. He has to. 

“Did ye know goldfish can grow up to ten inches? Researched it when we…” he swallows the lump in his throat, “when we got home.” Still nothing. Your fingers twitch on the edge of your kindle, and he’s overcome with the urge to place his hand there, to hold yours. “Ye know, Si an’ I were talking, it might be good for you to come down for a meal? Maybe ye could come downstairs for breakfast tomorrow? Pen asked.” Using Penny is wrong, he knows that, but he’s drowning and he doesn’t know how much farther they can sink at this point. 

But it all falls on deaf ears. 

You give him one last long look, another glare overflowing with malice, more rage, more despair, everything twisted up into a complicated knot. 

He's well practiced with bombs, confident, rarely makes a mistake-

but this is one he's terrified to defuse.

“Johnny… just... leave me alone. Please.” No, he wants to tell you, no, I'd rather have you scream at me for hours on end, I'd rather have you throw another mug at my head, over all of this... this agonizing silence.

“Okay,” he whispers, “I’ll… leave ye be.” 

“Upset?!” You cover your heart with your palms. “Upset…” 

“Sweetheart-” Simon hangs back behind Johnny, allowing him to take the lead, again, but still trying to coax you to calm, and you look at one then the other, shaking your head, tossing the phone on the bed.

“You… you hid all of this from me. I knew you were military but this…” You’re angry, but beneath it, fighting for freedom, is pain. Pain caused by them, by this betrayal. “Phillip aside, you kidnapped me!” 

“We had no choice,” Johnny’s voice wavers and he scrambles for control. “We couldnae leave ye alone and unprotected, an’ we knew ye wouldnae listen to us if we just… showed up.” 

“I wish I had better aim,” you spit, staring daggers at where Simon’s arm sports a fresh bandage, covering the stitches. He flinches. 

“We would never hurt ye-” A bitter laugh cuts him off, and you throw your hands up, gesturing around the room. 

“What do you call this then, Johnny? What would you call drugging me and hauling me away from my home?” 

"That wasnae yer home! Yer home is wit' us, bun." You stare at him in disbelief.

"You're out of your fucking mind if you think this... this could be my home now."

“I promise-” Simon starts again but you glare at him. 

“Your promises mean fuck all, Simon Riley.” 

“We’ve never lied to ye, bunny, an’ if we had known from the beginning, we could have protected ye, made sure he never came near ye again.” It’s low to use your own evasion against you, your own survival instincts, but he’s grasping at straws. He’s not sure it’s possible to tell you how sorry they are anymore, they’ve said it a thousand times. You snort. 

“You’re unbelievable. Both of you. And you’re no better than him.” 

“That’s not true.” Simon cuts, sharp edge slicing through your declaration. “We would never, ever hurt you. We love you.” Your swallow is audible, and for a second, you falter. A tear falls. Johnny steps forward. 

“Bun-“ 

“I want you to go.” 

“Ye have every right-” 

“Get out!” You scream it, pointing at the door with a shaking finger. “Get the fuck out.” Simon doesn’t take a single second before turning his back and disappearing, leaving Johnny alone with you. 

Defeated. 

“I love ye.” He murmurs softly, and you scoff. 

“Fuck your love, Johnny. It means nothing.”

The scream wakes them both at zero two hundred. 

It’s blood curdling, could shatter the windows, shake the house down to the studs. 

Simon’s faster than him lately, gets the drop- 

But he bypasses your room. 

“I’ll take care of Penny.” Of course. She’d be awake. That would’ve woke anyone. 

The door creaks when it flings wide, and then he’s sitting at your hip on the mattress, holding you, calling your name. The whites of your eyes shine in the dark, pupils slowly adjusting as he flicks the light on next to the bed. 

He braces for a fight, shores his defenses, readies himself for the venom, but the only thing you give him is the trembling of your lower lip, and your tears, your hand stretching for his. “Shhh, ye’re okay, it’s okay. Was jus’ a dream bunny, jus’ a dream.” Your chest heaves. 

“I… Phillip...” 

“He’s no’ here, it’s just ye and me. Simon and Pen down the hall.” He’d be lying to himself if he said this isn’t making a sick part of him happy, this need you seem to have for him, for comfort, even if it may be fleeting. “Ye’re safe, pretty girl.” A moan escapes you, working its way into a sob, and you curl forward. 

Into him. 

In this darkness, the early hour of the morning, the two of you are suspended in time, alone in this world where nothing bad ever happened and you’re safe in his arms. Like the man he sees in the mirror doesn’t disgust him, like his remorse isn’t a living, breathing thing, a reaper waiting to take him away. 

And when your nose presses to his chest and you wet his shirt with tears as he rocks you, promises you’re safe, that they’ll take care of you, that he loves you, all the words they’ve said since the day they met you, the guilt threatens to drown him-

And his own tears drip from his face. 

[likelysobbing]

nah let reader get her lick back now cause I can’t have us going down like this. Reader needs to get with one of the team immediately but it’s not like no rebound things it’s fr serious and Paige cannot stand it but who cares anymore?

𖥻 STUNNED. azzi fudd x reader x ex!paige bueckers (for the streets 2)

synopsis: paige’s eyes are on other girls, so azzi’s eyes sure as hell won’t let off of you now—and they’re the loveliest you’ve ever had the honor to look back at.

notes: RAHHH here it is! FOR THE STREETS part 2 ! hi nonnie! this is lightly, lightly, lightly LIGHTLY based off a song called makasarili malambing by hev abi and kristina dawn. sorry this took so long i was receiving my education! also, 3k+ words. if u read this u better read it all the way…tell me what u think too. i love interaction hehehe. also, i tried not to make paige suffer VIVIDLY, because i feel like it hurts more for player!paige to just silently regret #EL EM AY OH. thank u. also i put emphasis on eyes (adoration), the color green (envy), and make a lot of references to the previous fic. it’s linked on this post so go on and read it if you haven’t already <3 also, tagging @elalfywhore as per request hehe. hope you guys like it.

cw: READER’S A BIT OF A BITCH AT FIRST, But ends up folding because no one resists azzi bro, readers sassy, azzi is insistent, paige has avoidant attachment issues, no distinct establishment of a relationship but there is an implication of azzi and reader being more and both parties being okay with that (except paige. paige didn’t consent), PLAYER!paige

azzi always watched you.

you ignored it, especially while you were with paige—but she always watched you. azzi’s eyes seemed to favor trailing down your body more than anything else. whenever you ran into her and paige, back when you were still a couple, you had always kissed paige on the cheek—and azzi nearly leaned in everytime you approached her for a hug; maybe she expected a kiss on the cheek too— that’s funny, actually. but that’s unlikely, right? you ignore it. there was no way. no way she could have had any sort of interest in you.

especially now that you’ve practically estranged yourself from paige and her friends; that includes the basketball team. you haven’t said anything to them beyond ‘hi’ , ‘bye’ and ‘have a good day’—and they know why. they understand why. who wouldn’t want to do the equivalent of bury themselves in a hole if their ex girlfriend who they were so intent on marrying ended it all through a phone call while getting head from another woman? come on. you were sure they understood.

included in this very obvious mass-in-real-life-ghosting phase was none other than paige’s closest friend, miss goo goo eyes, miss azzi fuckin’ fudd.

you really tried to get her eyes off you, but it didn’t matter in the end.

azzi always watched you.

or like, maybe it was watch over instead of simply watch. watching over was more akin to what she did—she always checked in on you, maybe when she thought you weren’t looking her eyes would end up somewhere on your body that wasn’t necessarily scandalous—more so the space between your neck and shoulder or a collarbone. regardless, she had her eyes on you.

but watching you or not, you’re sure azzi didn’t mind you distancing yourself. you’re 100% sure she understood you being a bit too far to look at now? there was no need to dwell on it. you’re sure. you’re 100% sure.

… okay, well, maybe you’re 99.99% sure.

azzi sat across from paige, eyes slightly narrowing and widening as she felt the burn of yet another shot. the bass boomed in both of their ears, and each beat rung through their brain, but all azzi could focus on was that paige had let you go.

you. sweet, lovely, you.

she knew she wasn’t being slick when she watched you—her eyes always seemed to rake down every one of your features, and she wasn’t embarrassed about it. you were beautiful, and in paige’s arms you found your place. azzi couldn’t trespass on that—not because of paige, but because of you. you genuinely believed paige was inlove with you—pathetic, unheard of, even—but with how paige treated you, azzi began to believe it too… or she would’ve, if she knew paige less.

azzi didn’t rain on your parade of delusions hemmed by paige’s beautifully sown in lies.

but she wouldn’t deny that you would look better with her.

“you’re thinking again.”

there it is; paige was never one to think a lot, so she always questioned why azzi did. her decisions spoke for themselves. azzi pokes the inside of her cheek with her tongue, tilting her head just enough to turn her nose up at paige, who grins like she knows what this look is. azzi always seem to come up with the craziest shit, and right now—paige’s excited to see what she comes up with next.

“what you thinking of?” uconn’s number five asks, that drunken lilt unmistakable as she balanced speaking to uconn’s #35 and getting a lap dance from the girl she beckoned over (she knew nothing about her besides the fact she had a nice ass). azzi shakes her head, one side of her lips quirking up. that mystery only serves to make paige even more curious—as always, she doesn’t think twice about digging deeper.

“nah, come on, there’s something—“

“no, paige,”

“there’s someone.”

well, azzi can’t deny that, can she?

so, she burrows deeper into her seat and looks away. paige points at her like she just connected all the dots, going “oh!” like a frat boy surprised that his hunch was even correct. “who’s she?”

“she’s a she.”

“she’s a she and her name is what?”

“she.”

“that’s not a name, bro—“

“how do you know she isn’t a name?”

“bro. don’t do this. i’m drunk.”

by this point, azzi’s (a little bit!) drunk too. there’s adrenaline in her veins; sprinkle in that crazy audacity that paige seems to have all the time, and she could simply say what’s on her mind right now. or, maybe she should just say it to get it off her chest.

“your ex.” azzi murmurs. paige’s eyes darken, flickering from the common deviousness azzi’s so familiar with to something genuine she can’t seem to place. her jaw tightens, smile faltering just enough to make azzi’s own quirk up.

the lights flicker from red, yellow, green and purple randomly. by this point, she’s used to the strain—shes even memorized the pattern. the lights are going from red, to yellow, green, purple— purple again. so why … is paige all green?

“sorry, i don’t mean to impose,” was what she said to you first. you couldn’t even register she was near you at all. why was she even here, sitting next to you in a nearly empty library she’d probably benefit more studying alone in? you weren’t even in the same major. if she had a test to study for, you’d be of no help.

it was stupid of you to even assume studying was on her mind.

she just… did her own thing. in silence. she didn’t push, didn’t press, didn’t— she didn’t do anything. she was just on her phone. why was she in the library if she didn’t have any work to do? she had a whole friendgroup—maybe she did it to get away from them? wait, but why would she need to get away from them? did she need to hide? was she annoyed? why would she be annoyed? well, you don’t suppose it was paige, paige would definitely be quite an annoyance—

“yes?”

her voice is soft. softer than a feather landing on your skin. yet, like a feather, amidst how light her voice is—you feel it. it’s one word, but it takes just that to make you feel the one feeling you know will lead to more than multiple disasters.

interest.

you are interested in her.

azzi fudd’s big brown eyes were something you (and anyone in your place) could only resist for so long, and with one bat of her eyelashes and the flash of her sweet smile that—oddly—didn’t leave a bitter taste in your mouth. atleast, not like it usually did. you never saw her as anything more than paige’s bestfriend who was kind of into you (but also simultaneously there was no way she was into you because she was so pretty).

“you’ve been silent for the past two minutes.”

you blink. “… sorry.”

azzi smiles, again, and this time— you can’t help but smile back.

but it’s not that serious, isn’t it? there’s no harm in introducing new people into your life. there’s no harm even if it’s your ex’s bestfriend who’s watched you with for so long, and with such pretty eyes. there’s like, literally no harm.

you wouldn’t let there be any harm. you could open your heart to her a little. deal with her presence if it’s constant. bite back when needed, push away when called for, right?

“that’s okay.” she replies to you smoothly, looking back at her phone. “—just haven’t seen you in a while, you know.” she offers, and you freeze up. she doesn’t stop speaking. “i kind of.. missed you being close. like i get why—i understand, too, i just— you know..”

“yeah, i know you know. paige wasn’t really subtle with the breakup.” you murmured, “did she send you here to check on me, azzi?”

azzi blinks, scandalized by the accusation. “what… no? i don’t—i would never. i’m not like her— i mean, not like that— i just.. wanna be here?”

you raise an eyebrow, skeptically. “at this specific library?” and azzi inhales, “please don’t make me say what i know you know already.”

“i know a lot of things. but i don’t know what you think i know.”

“don’t you?”

“do i?”

“i just wanna be with you.”

that was easier to get out than you expected. hm, okay. okay— you tilt your head. “you’ve been with me enough, with how much you seem to hang around paige.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means i’ve only ever known you as one of her minions.”

azzi’s eyes widen, and she nearly gasps—once again— SCANDALIZED, by your statement—but she doesn’t. infact, you don’t expect what she does—because she takes your jab in stride.

“wooow, minions, huh? okay, well—why don’t you try to get to know me beyond it?”

“i’d actually rather not. i know who you hang out with.”

“just because i hang out with her doesn’t mean—“

you interrupt her with the zip of your backpack and the slam! of your books closing. “you’re all talk. you never act.”

azzi tries to cut you off with a little “hey, wait—“, her hand on your wrist, her eyes wide and pleading but you do not budge.

you shake her hand off your wrist when she tries to stop you from standing up. it’s the perfect picture of cold ruthlessness you know paige doesn’t believe you have—and you know what? if azzi is going to act like a messenger pigeon, which you assume she is, then you’re going to make sure she has a lot to say to paige when she comes back.

unbeknownst to you, azzi looks at what was once your chair and frowns. she feels your absence more than paige does. more than paige ever will.

and it stings. both for you, and her.

she comes to you again. this time, you’re in another library, and somehow she has enough devotion to presumably ruining your life that she finds you. she smiles when she sees you, waving with a tiny ‘hello’.

you place your bag onto the chair next to you and go back to work. you’re in the zone, there’s nothing stopping you— apparently besides the girl plopping your bag down onto the (dirty!) floor. how rude. how does she have the nerve to sit next to you? why does she still think you’re good? she may want to ‘be in your presence’ but who said anything about you wanting to be in hers? what the hell does she think shes doing?

“i think maybe you should let me tell you what i’m doing here.”

“i actually think you should leave.”

“i’ve only sat next to you twice.”

“twice too many.”

theres a silence on the other end and you think you won. you can’t help the smile on your face—the rejection felt good, in a sort of cruel way. azzi didn’t have any part in you and paige’s downfall, but she did stand by and watch it—you—burn.

so you’d set fire to whatever she was dreaming of in return.

“i always thought you looked better with me.”

record scratch.

“you’re crazy.”

“i am not.” she replies, “just a tad bit tipsy.”

“it’s nine pm?” you scoff, and she shrugs, “pre-game. anyway, i mean it. i always thought you looked better with me. you would, wouldn’t you?”

this time, you leave in a hurry. there’s literally nothing but ‘evacuate’ in your head as you rush to pack your bags, spouting whatthefuckwhatthefuck in your brain as azzi, realizing the utter stupidity of her actions, begins to flail her arms around directionless as she tries to stop you from leaving again.

“okay maybe that was a little bit uncalled for, i’m sorry let me rephrase—“

“no, i am not letting you— and no, i do not wanna find out. you got me fucked all the way up—“

“listen, okay, i just think you’ve always been out of her league—“ she tries to reason, and you look at her incredulously.

“you’re talking about paige bueckers.” you say, back now turned to azzi as you begin to walk out.

azzi shakes her head, already toeing behind you— “i’m talking about my close friend. one who couldn’t see your worth— please, will you let me try again? god, i’m sorry— you’re just so pretty, okay? and you’re so fucking sweet, you have such a pretty face and i just can’t help but look at you—“

“that is so creepy, azzi.”

“it is! i’m sorry!” she whines, obviously more than tipsy, “i’m sorry! just—“ she takes you by the hand, and you freeze up because it’s been quite a while since you’ve had physical contact that had even a smidge of romantic intent, and when you look back— god, there it is.

big, brown eyes.

looking right at you, a tad bit glossy—wide, and paired with by far the prettiest pout you’ve ever seen. “please.” she whispers, keeping in mind how you’re technically still in the library and she’s been looked at thrice for her theatrics—“please? just… let me hang around. i’m not going to force anything i just—want to know you.”

you’re stunned.

you’re in no state to properly answer; your mind is going a mile a minute, and so in desparation to just speak— you speak with your heart.

“nnn… okay.”

that was your heart. it forgot all reason, dignity, and self respect, apparently.

maybe azzi giving you a wide, toothy smile was worth it though.

“you’re seeing her?” paige repeated, some drink she forgot the name of swirling in her cup. azzi nodded, “figured she’d need something soft to land on.” she murmured, and though her words seemed casual—there was more meaning to them than paige could understand. azzi’s tone was expectant, hopeful—she wanted something to bloom between the two of you—something nice. pretty. good.

“and what is that? your chest?” paige’s reply interrupts her, and though she tries to sound teasing—she sounds more... irritated.

“maybe.” azzi grins.

“get outta here.” paige scoffs, taking another swig of her drink as she slumps back into her chair. “you can have her, it’s whatever bro. liter-ally whatever.”

“mhm.”

azzi’s nonchalance only bothers paige even more.

“i hope you understand i’m not ready yet.” was the first thing you said right after that awkward moment back at the library, “for a relationship, i mean. like, this fast.” you clarified.

azzi nodded, bouncing off you well, “oh, me too—you don’t need to see me as a threat. i just want to know you. i know it’s going to be hard, considering well.. your ex is my best friend. paige doesn’t mind—“ she pauses, before trying to reword. “i mean that—“

“oh, that’s fine. i can tell she doesn’t.” you wave it off, and azzi just smiles apologetically as she continues. “even if it’s hard on the both of us, i want to see where this goes. i’ve watched you too long to not want to be close.” azzi shyly murmurs, before trying to rekindle a lighter atmosphere— “just don’t get sassy with me, okay? i don’t like fighting with you.”

it’s been five months now. since she’s said that.

specifically, since azzi began to try to woo you. every flower she gave was always your favorite one, every ramble you graced her with was met with actual listening ears and comprehension, and nearly every thing you wanted? you had it in your hands the next day. azzi wasted no time in trying to show you she in fact, wasn’t like bueckers (who seemed to be meaner these past weeks, impossibly)—you never had to doubt her.

like actually. you never had to doubt azzi.

she didn’t knock on your door three times, but she was… special. enough. to have a key by the third month. she didn’t look you in the eye all that much, too shy to properly maintain it, but you knew she watched over you anyway. and when she held your hand, she was the one that squeezed first.

even if she hasn’t popped the question yet, there is no doubt in your mind that she’s yours already. she may have had grandeur, but unlike paige, she did not let it define her love for you. no, she won you over by the littlest things. the things that mattered.

its been five months now. since she’s said that.

and it’s felt like… six / seven … years?

however long it’s been, you know there’s a connection. and azzi knows too, because why wouldn’t she? she somehow knows everything. there’s always solutions to problems with her, always an answer to a math equation or an existential crisis— its all so different.

different from paige, you mean.

with azzi, you’re always… stunned— from how much effort she puts in, how bright her smile is, how she never seems to not have time for you—hell, you’re stunned whenever you see her. you know there’s something there, but you don’t know who’s going to make a move first—or atleast, when she is.

you don’t know if you should care at all. you don’t know if you should put yourself first, or if you even have real questions. you can’t even ask azzi like you’ve formed a habit of doing because she somehow always says the right things—you can’t even muster up a question for her: what would you say? ‘bro please kiss me already?’ no way.

“you ready to go?” azzi’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you blink to see her holding her hand out. ah, that’s right— you’re hanging out tonight. she’s taking you to her favorite spot across the town—that’s nice. you can’t wait to be with her.

you have so many questions you can’t muster, but maybe you don’t need to ask. maybe you just need to feel—her touch lingers far more than it stays, always tingling on your arm or your back; her absence causes you more heartache than you’d like; … it’s just her. maybe there are no more questions. maybe you don’t have questions, but either way, azzi has answers. she might as well be the answer to everything, actually. maybe there’s no need to dwell, no need to label it yet—lord knows what azzi wants.

you take azzi’s hand and she squeezes it first like she always does. it makes you smile wider this time.

this time, love is kind to you. it is soft and slow and yet passionate all the same. you don’t know where it might lead but the look in her eyes is worth it. this tenderness is worth it.

and you’re not afraid, wherever this might lead you.

paige bueckers.

big name. legendary name, even. yet she’s not as big and bad as shes made herself out to be right now. not at all.

in the same booth she was a few months ago, paige now sits alone. there are girls aching to get home with her, and she’s half-picking who should get that honor—but she’s trying to distract herself more.

the lights go red, to yellow, green, purple—purple again. so why does she feel so green?

envy is a rattle snake, and it wraps around her entire body. it squeezes tight, cutting circulation off to the point she’s so stiff she might explode— but it’s not because of you and azzi.

it’s not.

not even when her jaw clenches at the thought of you. and azzi. azzi is her bestfriend, and when she outright admitted to thinking about making moves on you—paige brushed it off with a laugh and a playful “she can’t even talk to half of us, bro—i got her heart broken … or like heartbroken or something.” but now, here she is.

and she’s not heart broken. shes not even bothered at all. she’s not.

she just doesn’t like to see you so close. why would she want you close? she’s done her time. pulled you in closer. you always burrowed in deep, she felt you in her heart. maybe that’s what sickened her— the feeling of endearment. you tried to reach your way in, but to paige it felt like you were tearing her apart—ripping her to shreds to crush the organ in your hands and make the victory against her sweeter.

she’s not heart broken. why would she be? there’s no one here breaking her heart.

there’s no one she lets close enough to even have a shot at it.

there is only her. and while she may not accept it, especially now? now that you are gone? now that she’s driven you away like she once did with every other girl who’s ever tried to come close—although you came closest—who came her way?

paige bueckers.

big name. legendary name, even.

but her heart breaks, and she’s the one breaking it.

@likelysobbing.

[hurtspideyparker]

Avengers High School AU

based on this post of mine

At a Party:

Clint: Here's a drink Pete

Tony: *takes solo cup from Peter* You idiot, he's underage!

Clint: So are we dipshit

Tony: *Chugs Peter's drink*

Clint: Whatever, I'll get him a lemonade

Tony: *Chugs his own drink*

—

Natasha: Steve I saw Tony heading for the janitor's closet

Steve: Okay?

Natasha: With Clint

Steve, sprinting down the hall: NOT THE TOILET PAPER BARTON

—

Bucky: Would you like to go out sometime?

Natasha: No

Bucky: I respect that. *Turns to Sam* would you like to go out sometime

Sam: Wait—but you just. What the hell man

Bucky: I'll take that as a no. *Turns to Clint* would you like to—

Clint: Fuck yeah

—

Tony: Did you hear about the fire in the chem lab?

Steve: Tony, what did you do

Tony: It wasn't me this time!

Steve: Oh. That's new

Tony: I mean I did text Bruce the calculations, it's not my fault he didn't see the decimal

Steve: Tony!

—

Natasha: And that's why I transferred in the middle of last year

Sam: Isn't that like...a crime

Natasha: Nobody will believe you.

Sam: What? What do you mean by that

Natasha, disappearing into the crowd:

Sam: What do you mean by that?!

—

Peter: Hi Captain!

Steve: You know only the football team calls me that Peter. I'm not your Captain

Peter: Yes sir

Steve: I'm only 2 years older than you, you don't need to call me sir either

Peter: Okay Captain!

Steve: No just...whatever

—

Tony: Hey Bruce whatcha reading

Bruce: AH! Oh hey dude

Tony: Wow you're jumpy. You need to relax

Bruce: I don't think I've relaxed once since I met you but thanks for the advice

—

Clint: Do you think Thor was held back?

Sam: Naw man, he's pretty smart

Clint: But he looks like he has a 401k and a mortgage

Bucky: Talks like it too

Sam: Maybe it's a Europe thing, school is different there

Clint: Maybe. Hey Thor! What's up buddy, how's the wife and kids?

Thor: Ay? Um...well? And yours my friend?

Clint: Fantastic! Well it was good seeing you

Thor: Alright then, farewell

Sam: What an odd guy

Bucky: Nice though

Clint: Real nice dude

—

Pepper: Tony, stop flirting with me to make Steve jealous

Tony: Whaaaaat, I would never

Pepper: You very loudly told your table, which is right next to mine, "I'm going to go flirt with Pepper to make Steve jealous"

Tony: Well do you think it's working?

Steve, at Tony's table: No

—

Peter: The decathlon supervisor is already one of my references, and I tutor for Mrs. Warren's freshman class a lot so I have her too. I also volunteered at a special needs camp over the summer, plus I applied for this competitive course where you write a research paper under a university professor for junior year, and if I get it that will look really good on my MIT application. I just hope it doesn't interfere with my internship at Oscorp. What about you, what are you doing to prepare for graduation? Aren't college apps due, like, next month for you?

Bucky: Well my boss at Dunkin Donuts said he'd give me a reference. Chicks in the drive through always tip me well

—

Sam: Why'd you punch Rumlow!

Steve: Cause he was saying creepy stuff about Natasha!

Bucky: You shouldn't have done that man

Steve: What do you mean, he was being a total asshole, I don't care if I get detention

Sam: It's not him you should be worried about

Natasha: Rogers, that was MY punch to throw

Steve: Oh no

Natasha: You think I'm some damsel in distress? Come here and I'll show you a damsel in distress

Steve: I, uh, gotta go *runs out the door*

Natasha: Which way did he go.

Sam: I didn't see nothin'

Bucky: Out those doors and to the left

Sam: Bruh

Bucky: A true friend understands when the consequences are necessary *kicks Rumlow who's still lying on the ground as he walks away*

—

Bruce: What did the racing hot dog say when he passed the finish line?

Tony: What

Bruce: I'm a wiener!

Everyone:

Bruce: Get it? Like winner?

Tony: It's okay man, just stick to academics

Thor: I have one! A priest, a pastor, and a rabbi walk into a bar

Everyone:

Thor: HAHAHA, what a coincidence for them all to arrive in the establishment simultaneously!

*Everyone bursts out laughing*

Bruce: Oh come on, that wasn't even a joke!

Tony: See he has charisma. It's all about the delivery Brucie Bear

—

Sam: Wait, you're saying that the elephant toothpaste all over the second floor right before midterms was you?

Rhodey: Hell yeah it was

Sam: But everyone blamed Tony. Even Tony's parents and the principal. The only reason he wasn't suspended was because the cameras were wiped of evidence, which was also blamed on Tony

Rhodey: Yeah you'd be surprised about how much stuff I do that Tony gets blamed for. Public image does wonders to create bias

Sam: What the hell? I thought you were the responsible one and Tony was your monkey on a leash. Why does he let you blame him?

Rhodey: Cuz he's a good bro. He gets to piss his parents off, I don't get kicked out of ROTC, and then we laugh about it afterwards

Sam: You evil geniuses...

—

Wanda: I want to get married

Natasha: Are you pregnant?

Wanda: What? No

Natasha: Oh thank goodness. Wait, then why do you want to get married

Wanda: Because it's romantic!

Natasha: And the tax benefits?

Wanda: No! Well, yes that would be nice, but no! I want to be a stay at home mom and have a nice family

Natasha: Girl you failed home economics and your type is men who think calling you their "situationship" is making it official, why don't we focus on finding the vertex for now

—

If u like this vibe I have a domestic Avengers "in a timeline where Civil War didn't end in divorce" series as well:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 :P

[venmondiese]

WEIRD HOBBIES

-ˋˏ| summary: you meet a guy in a bar and decide to go back to his place, as weird as he might seem.

✧ | Pairing: Martin (in the modern world) x reader

✧ | word count: 2.3k

✧ | Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Oral (f/m receiving), 69 position, Martin is weird as hell but a pussy eating champ! Not beta proof<3

“So… what’s your name again?” You ask curiously, walking behind the man that holds your hand, guiding you through his home, and to his bedroom. You don’t complain, though, since you were out just for that; to get home with a handsome man. 

There was this band that you never heard of playing near your house, and it took little for your brain to convince you to go. If something good came from it, you would get fucked. If something bad came from it, well… you hoped for the first one. 

That’s how you ended up here, following a dude, which looks from head to toe like a metal head. His hair goes to his shoulders, coal black, which you assume he dyed it, and some graphic shirt with the words ‘Knotfest’ and all, wearing some metal stuff that you didn’t really know much about.

And you looked like a rock groupie, with a leather top that practically squeezed your tits and a dark jeans miniskirt with some boots. Yet, this mysterious man was still taller than you, and that was quite exciting, and a bit arousing.

“Eh, Martin” he says nonchalantly, as he grabs your hand, his bracelets really end up the detail of his fit, and you feel really horny now to lay with this dude. “Yours?”

You tell Martin your name, following him as he opens his bedroom door. To be fair, it is tidier than you imagined.

“Sorry the mess” he murmurs, moving the drone and an electric guitar out of his bed. You hum, looking around curiously, to the badly positioned posters, some rock-metal bands that you didn’t know about.

“Is that a snake?” You ask, watching the little head of the reptile in the middle of the dim light coming from outside.

“Uh- no, it’s a lizard” 

A guy with a lizard as a pet. Okay.

“What is its name?” 

“Lizard. I don’t like naming them-” 

Great. 

You look at him with a fake smile. The dick better be good you think, taking out your jacket and leaving it on a chair next to the desk.

“Be careful, spider likes to crawl near there”

You took your jacket off there, and you really hoped that he had a dog called spider because otherwise it would be strange as hell.

“Riiiiight” you say, leaving your jacket in a hanger of his opened closet. Whatever. “So… Apart from having a lizard and a spider… do you maybe also have… a cockroach?”

He lets out a huff, his lips turning upwards as he takes his shirt off. “No” Martin says. “I do have another thing, though, it’s very big”

You try to smile at his corny, cringy words. It’s for the dick. You repeat to yourself: The dick better be good. He better not finish in two minutes. He better knows how to eat pussy.

“Ha. Funny” you say as you start to take off those boots.

“How did ya meet the band?”

“Ehmm… A friend dated the brother of an ex of the bassist. I think” you say watching as he frowns his eyebrows slightly trying to make any sense as he lights up a cigarette. 

“ah, nice” he says as he lays on bed as he smokes the cigarette, taking off his shirt as he remains only in those Adidas jeans of his. “Heard the songs before?”

“Once or twice” you say looking at the CD albums stacked on top of each other messily, and you move to grab a solitude piece of paper, as you can practically feel Martin’s eyes on your ass. “I liked the vocalist, quite handsome, don’t you think?” you unwrap softly the paper, away from Martin’s eyes.

It was an address. It piqued your curiosity.

“Aye, come here” his voice is soft as he extends his hand to turn off the cigarette on the glass ashtray, which has the shape of a dragon.

You turn around and walk toward his bed, and watch how he seems eager to have you. It’s hot to have a man drooling for you like Martin is now. And his erection is the living proof of it; it was obvious against his trousers that he was rock hard. You wondered if he was leaking as well. 

You straddle his lap, a smirk forming on your lips as his hands move immediately to your thighs, cold hands moving slowly up to find their way to your ass. 

“Sit on my face” Martin murmurs, words slightly stuck between his pants

“Hm? What was that?” You ask petulantly, pretending not to have heard. 

“Come on, beautiful, sit on my face” he says, pushing your hips closer to his chest, trying to push your miniskirt up.

“Gotta take my panties off” you say softly to him, watching his lips as he licks them, savouring the ghosting taste of you.

“No, like this” he murmurs, eager to taste you. “I’ll eat you from behind even.” Martin proposes, more desperate than the last time “Please”

You might forgive cheesy comments for his eagerness. You sigh with a wide smirk, turning around as Martin places his big hands around your thighs, dragging your centre closer to his face. 

Eager was the wrong word for it; he was desperate.

His hand moved your panties to the side, and his face almost nuzzled your cunt, before starting to press his tongue on your centre. You could hear his groan of pure delight, his hands caressing the skin of your thighs and ass as he delighted himself. 

“Fuck” you said, but it was as if all the air from your lungs when out in that moan. 

Martin’s hands were keeping you still, not allowing you to move your hips to grind his face as you wanted. You could hear his moans, the way he slurped and nuzzled his face on your cunt. 

He was a pro, eating pussy as if he did it every day (maybe he did, god knows), and he didn’t seem to care for his lack of air in the matter. He was on it, devoted to eating your dripping cunt as if it was his last meal on earth.

Your hands are pressed on his stomach, and he has to forcefully let you go to breathe, and you sigh as you feel his breaths. 

“Where did you learn to do that?” You breathe softly, as you can hear how he pants, catching his breath. 

“A good pussy can make a man go feral, love” he says, moving your panties out of the way as his index and middle finger move to rub against your slit. 

He was cheesy, and it was a bit weird. Yet it couldn’t bother you less, you had been with worse men, and Martin was good in other areas…, well, at least in sex and eating out a pussy. And it was more than average, so you were up to it.

Before he decides to keep on eating you, still caressing your clit as he catches his breath, you lean a bit on his torso, to try to pull down the leather pants, opening the zipper. 

It takes you a bit, yet after accomplishing your mission, your hand grabs his dick to guide it into your warm, eager mouth. 

He was well doted, and hard as a rock. He was leaking, and his tip was a bit pink compared with the rest of his cock. 

God damn you if it didn’t make your mouth drool. Between him eating you out, and his leaking cock, you think you will go insane. He could have cheeky, cringe comments but you could live with it. You couldn’t live without him eating you out or his cock. 

You are as enthusiastic with his cock as he is. Though, you start slower. You take the head on your mouth, sucking on it as you feel him groan against your pussy. It was fucking hot, and it had you moaning on his cock. You didn’t remember the last time your legs were trembling like this, and how much you wanted to feel a dick in your throat. It was a need, a primal need.

Martin was kind and nice, had his things, but god, you need to fuck him. You might even need to have his babies by now. You wouldn’t complain if he came all inside you, filling you with his cum, and making you pregnant. Fuck, it even turned you more on. What was this man doing to you?

You took more of his dick in your mouth, trying to take all of it, not minding if you choke on it. He was hot. More than hot, in truth.

Martin was relentless with his tongue, lapping at your cunt again and again, moaning loudly against it as he could feel how deep you were taking his cock in your mouth. Your hand moved to cup his balls, as your tongue tried to swirl around his tip. It drove him insane. 

It was not long before you started to cum, moaning loudly, his dick slipping from your mouth as your thighs pressed against his face, riding his face and nose as he was making you cum. His tongue was as greedy as him, and he worked with his nose along your slit. And it made you cum hard, rolling your eyes back. “Fuck, Martin, just like that…” You say, hips grinding against his mouth in a desperate need to stretch the feeling a bit more. 

And once you finish, your mouth goes back to his cock, to keep on sucking him off. “Fuck, you feel incredible” he rasped, as you moved forward, closer to his cock and have full access, as Martin’s hips pumped upwards to fuck your mouth. 

You lay on his chest, his face back on the pillow, moaning loudly as you seem to try to drain him completely, deepthroating him as if it was nothing at all.

“Fuck, you are going to make me cum” He says, teeth gripped as his hand moves to grab a fist of your hair, to move your head down to allow him fuck your mouth deep as he wanted. His own head titles back in pure bliss and pleasure, moaning loudly as he uses your mouth as a desperate animal in need to cum. Not that you complain, it costs a bit more to breathe, and you were almost choking, but hearing Martin be so local, groaning, moaning and grunting was worth it. 

His cum soon fills your mouth, and he keeps you still, the signal clear for you to swallow all of it, as his throbbing cock unleashed his hot cum. 

“Swallow it… fuck, swallow it all, take what I give you…” he mutters in pure bliss.

As the last drops of cum are licked off his cock, he leans back and you move to his side. 

“That was great” You mutter, looking at the ceiling. How could he be so great at it?

“Yeah. Cig break and round two?”

“Hell yeah”

You are with your friend when you search the location in the paper that you found in Martin’s room. You were supposed to go to the club, you were wearing your miniskirt and a top, really to party, but that man had eaten your pussy and fucked you like no one before, so you felt entitled to find what that was for.

“It’s cold” Your friend, Tamara, says. She was chewing gum as she followed you begrudgingly. 

“It’s a fucking parking lot?” You ask looking around the empty street, the night made it lonely yet not totally isolated. 

“Your darling buries the bodies here” Your friend says, obviously judging it all. “Can we go?”

“Look, there is a car” you point out, as the car seems to be jumping around due to the movements inside. “Gods, you think they are having sex?”

“Ew, you think he has a brothel in his car?” Tamara asks you, looking at the car as you both get closer. “Eww and you fucked without a condom… You could get an IST, and die”

“It is called an STD, and… I think he is not fucking anyone” you frown slightly, getting closer.

“Careful! What if his pimp is here…?”

“He is fighting someone!” You say looking inside the car, as you find Martin pressing the head of the other guy against the window. 

Surely, Martin was a weird dude. He was corny as hell, and he had pets called like the species they were. Sure. He almost burned his hair as he smoked after sex, yes; and he also ate pussy like a champ and was hung as a horse. 

“I am going there” You tell your friends. “The dick is worth it”

“Yikes” 

As you walk closer, you feel your friend either staying behind or walking away, not that you care. 

Martin had blood trailing down his forehead, and was lying in the passenger’s seat as his thighs choked the other guy he was with, holding his head still with his hands. Okay, whatever, a guy can have hobbies.

When he sees you, he starts rolling down the window of the car, as you lean closer to his height.

“Hey, darling- how did ya–”

“A girl has her secrets” you say, smiling as you see him. God, he was sexy as hell. “I want my pussy eaten” 

Martin smirks, and he leans back to sigh at your request, as if the idea delights him. He still applies pressure to the other dude, who seems to pass out. Martin leans forward closer to your lips and whispers “Will ya’ wait ten minutes as I finish with this round?”

“Three” You bargain.

“Seven.”

“Three”

“Five and I’ll make you cum twice.” His final offer, and the time you had in mind. Offering lower than one wants always seems work to get your official deal, even with an extra.

“Deal” you accept with a smirk. 

And what if he was fighting inside a car? You fancied Martin, and sure as hell he fancied you. Even if he has weird hobbies. 

[solxamber]

Valentines day event woowoowoo (dont burn yourself out aye!!)

Idia, romantic, "absolutely smitten" by Dodie (if i got that right-) :]

Hope it could be a fun one ! Stay safe ayeaye

i love the pining potential in the song!!! hope you like my interpretation of it <3

"I'm absolutely smitten" || Idia Shroud

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Absolutely Smitten by Dodie

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 670

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers

Idia first sees you during orientation. Not in person, of course—there’s no way he’d willingly subject himself to a room full of loud, unpredictable people—but through his tablet, streaming the event from the safety of his dorm.

It’s routine, really, just scoping out who he’ll inevitably be avoiding for the next few years. But then the camera pans across the crowd, and he sees you.

And something unfamiliar stirs in his chest.

It’s a strange, unquantifiable feeling, something too big for him to handle, too much for his ribs to cage in. His fingers tighten around the tablet as he watches you smile at something someone says, and a thought creeps into his brain before he can stop it.

I wish that were me.

It’s over for him. Absolutely, completely, no-respawn doomed.

And when he actually gets to know you? Oh, he’s done for. Every interaction with you is a critical hit to his heart. You are bright where he is shadowed, warm where he is cold, a force of nature where he is content to be static.

And yet, somehow, you seem to like being around him. You talk to him, seek him out, sit with him even when he fumbles through his words and hides behind his hood.

He doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Idia Shroud, the ghost of Ignihyde, the one who would rather face a boss battle on the highest difficulty than make eye contact with another human being, wants nothing more than to be close to you.

He wants to talk to you about everything that makes his mind race at 3 AM, wants to know what makes you tick, wants to kiss you until he forgets what loneliness feels like.

But he can’t. Because you are you, and he is him, and the idea of ruining what he has with you is a fear greater than any horror game could ever conjure.

So he does nothing. He pines. He wonders.

Are you just being nice?

Would you ever see him that way?

Is he even worth your time?

And yet, he doesn’t know that you are just as smitten.

The day you met him is engraved in your brain like a prophecy fulfilled. You think he’s the one. It sounds ridiculous, impossibly romantic, something straight out of a visual novel, but you can’t shake the feeling that you and Idia are meant to be.

And so, one day, when you’re sitting next to him in his room—shoulders almost touching, his leg bouncing like a loading screen buffering at 99%—you slide a little closer.

“Idia.”

He stiffens. “W-what?”

“I like you.” A pause. “I really like you.”

His brain blue-screens.

You barely have time to process his expression—wide golden eyes, parted lips—before he starts tearing up.

“Wait, wait, are you okay?” You panic, reaching for him, but he shakes his head rapidly, hands clutching his hoodie like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

“You—” His voice cracks. “You actually—?”

You nod. “I mean, yeah. Kinda thought it was obvious.”

Obvious? Obvious? He’s been agonizing over this for months, drowning in his feelings, convinced you were nothing more than a dream he was too scared to wake up from. And yet, here you are, looking at him like he’s the greatest thing to ever happen to you.

He doesn’t know what to say. But you do.

So you pull him into a hug, letting him bury his face in your shoulder as he trembles. His hands hover before finally clutching the fabric of your shirt, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he holds on too tightly.

And for the first time in a long, long time, Idia feels whole.

He pulls back slightly, and when he looks at your soft smile, something inside him clicks into place. He’s never letting you go.

And when you look at his teary-eyed grin, you think the same thing.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[syd-djarin]

nut vid with the sound on

frankie "catfish" morales x f!reader

You accidently send Frankie a text that he wasn't supposed to see.

~1.5k words

tags: EXPLICIT, accidently sending a screenshot meant for someone else, reader is feral (she just like me), sexting, mention of light choking, virtual mutual masturbation (m & f!), flirting, Frankie is a consent king!, dirtyyyy talk, voice notes, nudes, nut vid with the sound on, they're so horny for each other

this is my first Frankie fic and I've been thoroughly enjoying myself in the Catfish Pond ;) I hope y'all like the text format, I had fun writing it like this. special shoutout to my babe @almostempty !!! she matches my freak, feeds my delusions & sparks my horny thots. thank you for cheering me on and helping with the dialogue I love you LOTS <3333

consulted this page for spanish used :)

translations:

princesa - princess

tócame - touch me

que cosa/cosita mas linda - what a pretty/pretty little thing

mierda - shit

ay dios - oh god

hazme el amor - make love to me

banners by: @cafekitsune <3

smut below the cut, y'all know the drill!

Frankie: You coming tomorrow? 

You: Yes, of course :) 

Frankie: Good. 

Bestie: bitch if you don’t make a move on fish

Bestie: It’s been months!!! Find out why they call him Catfish ;) 

You: STOPPPP 

You: you’re right tho I am dying to know

You: Wanna suck his dick til the skin falls OFF 

You caption the screenshot of Frankie’s latest Instagram post and text it to your bestie who will appreciate your level of freakiness. 

You continue your scrolling. 

*ding* 

Frankie: I don't think this message was meant for me, princesa.  

Opening his text, you realize to your horror that you sent your thirsty thoughts TO Frankie. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuuuuuck!

You: shit, I’m SO so so incredibly sorry! Totally inappropriate and not cool. I definitely meant to send that to someone else. Totally exiling myself from the group. 

Frankie: You meant to tell someone else that you wanna suck my dick til the skin falls off? 

You: It wasn’t for you. Please forget you saw it. Please Frankie :( 

Frankie: hell of a thing to send to someone. how am I supposed to forget the idea now?

You: Pretend. It was a mistake. 

Frankie: a mistake? as in, you didn’t mean it? 

You: Can we drop it? 

Frankie: seemed pretty specific for a mistake. you got freaky with it

You: It doesn’t matter. It was stupid. Please let it go 

Frankie: I don’t think I can, princesa

Frankie: not after imagining it 

Frankie: You sent a whole screenshot, with a colorful caption attached. That's intentional.

If you weren’t so humiliated, you’d be giggling and kicking your feet in the air that he is calling you princess, but you can only assume he is being patronizing. 

You: This is so fucking embarrassing. 

Frankie: Not too embarrassed to keep texting though…

You: Frankie don’t 

Frankie: You really think about me like that? 

You: I think you already know the answer to that

Frankie: I do, but I wanted to hear it from you. This time directly to me

Frankie: I think about you 

Frankie: All the time

You: Frankie, please. 

You: I already feel terrible 

Frankie: Never thought you’d see me like that. Now you’re telling me you’ve been thinking about my cock? and you want me to drop it? 

You: Please don’t fuck with me. I’m already mortified beyond belief like I can’t show my face around here anymore!! I’m sorry I sent it okay? 

You: I’ll skip the kickback if it's going to be too weird now. 

Frankie: Wouldn’t be the same without you there. I’d never tell you not to come. 

Frankie: If you really want me to drop it, I will. just say the word 

Frankie: but you should know

Frankie: I think you’re gorgeous, hilarious, too fucking smart to be hanging out with us  

Frankie: I lose my mind goddamn mind when I’m near you 

Frankie: and knowing you’ve been thinking about me too has me hard as a fucking rock 

You: Do you really mean that? 

Frankie: Yes I do, baby. You have no idea what you do to me 

You: Yeah? I might need some enlightenment. 

There’s a pause. You brace for impact; that he is really pulling your leg and he and the guys are doubled over laughing at your expense. 

Frankie: Might be better if you hear it straight from the Fish’s mouth

Frankie: Get it? Like horse’s mouth but it’s a fish instead 

You: I hate to admit I did one of those huff exhales that you do when something is amusing but not quite funny enough to warrant a full laugh

Frankie: At least you smiled. That’s good enough for me

Frankie: Sending a voice note, is that okay? 

You: Of course

Then the notification for a voice memo appears. Your fingers hover over the screen before you press play and Frankie’s low, gravelly voice spills into your ears. 

“Bebita, you have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted this. I’ve been yours since I first laid eyes on you…You’ve got me sitting here in my truck, trying to keep my shit together, but all I can think about is you on your knees for me. Told the guys I had to take a call… they’d give me shit right now if they knew… they’ve been ribbing me for months to ask you out but I was too chicken shit… way too pretty for me… definitely funnier and smarter than me, but you should know I’m not intimidated by that it's fucking hot… Fuck you’d look so good for me. I’d slide my cock into your mouth so slow, watch your lips stretch around me. You have the prettiest eyes and lips, you’d be heaven down on your knees for me…Shit, I’d lose my mind watching you take it. You’d look so pretty with your mouth full of me, baby. So fucking pretty.” 

Frankie: Are you touching yourself? Tell me, pretty girl 

You: And if I was?

Frankie: Good girl 

Frankie: What are you thinking? How do you feel?

You: So so good, Frankie

You: Thinking about your big strong hands all over me has me drooling baby

Another voice memo appears. When you press play, there’s a groan—a low, throaty sound that makes your entire body shiver. 

“You been thinking about my hands, princesa? Want me to hold those pretty tits with my hands, hmmm? Play with your nipples, massage them…maybe you’d like one of my hands gently pressing into the sides of your throat… if you’re into it of course!” 

Frankie’s urgency to make sure you’re into that sort of thing makes you smile. The caring, thoughtful Frankie that you know. 

“I am so hard for you– ay dios!…Thinking about you sitting on my face, trapped underneath your gorgeous thighs… make you come all over my face. Need you to make a mess on me… rub your pretty little clit on my nose, that’s why I have this big nose… so you can use it fuuuuuuuck…”

His voice grows rougher, more ragged. You can hear the slick, clapping sounds and his breathing. Heavy and uneven. 

“Mierda, I’m so fucking close, wish you were here baby–unghhhhh… wanna feel you around me, your pussy squeezin’ my cock… make you come ‘til you’re begging me to stop… do whatever you ask me to…”

You: Show me. I want to see Frankie, please 

Frankie: Wanna hear you say it in your pretty voice 

Frankie: Let me hear you beg all sweet like for me and I’ll show you what you do to me 

You: “Frankie ohhhhh baby I need you so bad… tócame, Frankie, por favor…Always think about climbing in your lap, running my hands through those— ahhhhhh!— curls, wanna feel how deep you get when I ride you… wanna feel you in my goddamn throat — fuck, can you hear how wet I am? I’m making such a mess oh my godddddd… never been this fucking wet baby…”

Frankie: babygirl you’re gonna be the death of me

Frankie: love your voice and the pretty sounds your pussy is making for me 

You: can I send a video? 

Frankie: no pressure. only if you’re comfortable with it 😘

You: that’s not what I asked, Francisco

Frankie: I know you mean business when you use my government name 

Frankie: yeah baby i wanna see whatever you wanna show me 

You: Attachment: 1 Video 

“Hazme el amor, Frankie…” 

Your legs are spread open, your core on display for the camera. He smiles thinking you probably had to find something to prop your phone on. You’ve got two fingers teasing in and out of your glistening pussy.

Frankie: que cosita más linda 

Frankie: You have the prettiest, messiest little pussy baby. Thank you for showing me. I can’t wait to taste her

Frankie: As promised, you want something in return for being such a good girl for me? 

You: yes please 😇

Frankie: sound up 😘

Attachment: 1 Video 

“Fuuuuuuck babygirl… see what you do to me… need to be close to you, need to feel you… make you feel good like you deserve… this is all for you, I am all for you baby…”

Frankie has his cock pulled out of his unzipped jeans, still in his truck, pumping himself. You admire the size and girth of him, so thick and gorgeous. You know the sting and stretch of him entering you for the first time will be delicious. It’s so hot knowing he had to slip away from the guy's night to relieve himself—couldn’t even wait til he got home. 

“Been dreaming of you for months, always imagine you when I’m touching myself, you’re in all my thoughts baby… mierda I’m gonna come, fuck baby—unghhhhhh— gonna come so hard for you — ohhhhhhhh fuck…” 

Thick ropes of cum drip down his hand, where he’s slowly riding out his high, breath heaving in exhaustion. 

You: I think I just blacked out 

You: I came so hard watching you fuck

Frankie: Such a good girl, baby. You did so good making yourself come 

Frankie: Drink some water 😘

You: Thank you Frankie :) 🩷

You: chugging some water as we speak🫡 

Frankie: that’s my girl 

Frankie: get some sleep, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow 😘😘

BONUS: frankie's insta

tagging babes who might enjoy: @katiexpunk @evolnoomym @studioghibelli @joelmillerisapunk @joelslegalwhre @sanarsi @tightjeansjavi @milly-louise <3333

@pedrostories

[cafem3wcuryy]

౨ৎ ━━━ AYE AYE, CAPTAIN

━ characters: kuroo, bokuto, ushijima, oikawa, daichi, kita

━ sum: bumping into their (hallway) crushes, then finally confessing.

━ tw: fem!reader, sfw, unestablished relationship

continuation here

lowercase intended!

m.list

━━━ KUROO TETSURO

⤷ kuroo would probably deviate a plan to try and bump into you 'coincidentally' and apologizing before saying, "i was distracted and couldn't see you" when he was actually just standing there waiting for you to round the corner

⤷ kuroo would purposefully run into you throughout the halls of nekeoma, trying to make small talk with you, then no hesitation would ask if you want to hang out outside of the school.

⤷ after a few times of hanging out outside of school, kuroo would ask you if you want to watch the team play volleyball. even sneaking in, "we don't have a manager either, soooo" hoping you would catch on and apply to be manager.

⤷ kuroo would start lowkey flirting with you, but would get embarrassed when you wouldn't pick up on his flirting.

"are you okay? you're staring at me a little intense." you ask him.

"yup, your face is just so stupidly cute."

"did you just call my face stupid, kuroo?"

⤷ kuroo would soon start getting teased by his teammates whenever they see him walking with you to school, calling him a 'simp', but he proudly admits that he is for you.

⤷ kuroo would look at you smugly when you start flirting back with him, teasing you for 'ultimately falling in love with someone like him', then would start complaining when you bring up his failed flirting attempts in the past before he became straightforward.

"don't look at me like that when one of the first few times you've tried to flirt with me, you said my face looked stupidly cute."

"c'monnnnnnnnn, [name]... when will you ever drop that?" kuroo whined.

"when you stop teasing me whenever i, embarrassingly, flirt with you."

⤷ kuroo would be the one to start falling even harder for you, unable to keep going with the endless flirtings, wanting to confess his feelings for you.

⤷ kuroo finally decided, planning to confess his feelings at the end of the day, but would get impatient and tell you while you guys are at the aquarium.

"[name]."

"yes?" you turn to him, his face slightly red.

"i like you."

⤷ kuroo would immediately bring you into a hug, and would kiss the top of your head when you tell him you like him too.

"does that mean if i ask you to be my girlfriend, you'll say yes?"

"obviously, tetsuro."

━━━ BOKUTO KOUTARO

⤷ bokuto would be telling a story to akaashi, using his whole body to tell it as well and accidentally hits you as you were walking past.

"OH MY! I'M SO SORRY!" bokuto exclaims, grabbing your face between his large hands, inspecting it.

"n-no worries..."

"bokuto, please stop touching her. i think you're making her uncomfortable." akaashi grunts, having to pull bokuto away from your personal space.

⤷ bokuto would tell akaashi on how you're his crush while freaking out because he accidentally hit you, as well as invading your personal space and making you uncomfortable. (you weren't)

⤷ bokuto would soon search classrooms, looking for your's during lunch so he could apologize to you again and try to make up for it, eventually finding your class.

⤷ bokuto would do anything and everything to make up for hitting you, soon looking for you during lunch time throughout the week hoping you would find something he could do to redeem himself.

⤷ bokuto would continue to hang out with you during lunches even after you had told him what to do to redeem himself, enjoying your company and presence even more, even making akaashi join the two of you occasionally.

⤷ bokuto would look for you in the stands at his games after he hits a spike, and when he gets blocked he looks toward you to see you giving him a thumbs up while mouthing 'it's okay, try again' to him, making him even more fired up.

⤷ after winning his game, bokuto will excitedly runs up to you, bringing you into a hug, lifting you up off the floor before blurting out his feelings to you out of pure excitement.

"DID YOU SEE THAT, [NAME]?! WE WON!" he shouts excitedly.

"i'm so proud of you, bo!"

"HEY! SINCE WE WON, LET'S GO OUT!"

"h-huh?" you stammered.

"I LIKE YOU, [NAME]! LET'S GO OUT TOMORROW, OKAY?!"

⤷ after saying yes, bokuto would run around the gym yelling.

"AKAASHI, SHE SAID YES!"

"bokuto, please stop yelling, people are staring..."

━━━ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

⤷ ushijima first saw you talking to your best friend in the hallways and was immediately entranced with your smile.

⤷ ushijima would unconsciously look for you in the hallways of shiratorizawa, and when he would see you, his eyes would never leave your figure.

"whatcha looking at, ushiwaka?" tendou smirks, poking his bicep.

"nothing."

⤷ ushijima wouldn't be discreet about how he looks for you, making tendou tease him, soon his interest in you would spread across the team like wildfire, which he then learns your name.

⤷ ushijima spotted you in the stands at one of his games and immediately began feeling giddy.

⤷ ushijima would score a point and would make eye contact with you, giving you the tiniestt smile which you immediately notice.

⤷ ushijima would finally approach you in the halls and just stand there until you notice him. (which is immediately bcs he is huge)

"eh?"

"apologies if i startled you. may i talk to [name] alone?"

you and your best friend share a look of confusion, before they leave you and him alone. "would you like to exchange numbers?"

⤷ ushijima would text you everyday, never failing to wish you a good morning or a goodnight as well as sending you text messages of when and what time he would have a game, hoping to see you there.

⤷ ushijima would come into terms with his feelings for you, telling tendou that he plans on confessing his true feelings to you, which tendou would immediately blab about to the team.

⤷ ushijima would approach you during lunch, bringing you outside to confess his feelings to you.

"i like you," he nods. "i wanted to be transparent with my emotions with you."

"i like you, too."

⤷ ushijima's chest would swell with happiness as he smiles at you, making your heart melt.

━━━ OIKAWA TOORU

⤷ oikawa had spotted you talking to hanamaki and matsukawa one morning, thinking you were very attractive and expected you to start swooning over him like his fangirls when he walked over to the two of you.

⤷ oikawa thought you were shy when you walked away from the two when you saw him walking over.

"aw, why'd she leave?" he pouted.

"she doesn't like you." hanamaki snickered, making matsukawa laugh.

⤷ oikawa was determined to make you like him and tried to make your paths cross with him whenever he saw you around the school, and would initiate conversation with you.

⤷ oikawa would start getting annoyed from the amount of times he would be interrupted because of his fangirls and would lowkey start boiling whenever they inserted themselves into your guys' conversation.

⤷ oikawa would start flat out ignoring his fangirls whenever they came around and only kept his eyes on you, following you if you were to start walking away when you saw them approaching.

⤷ oikawa would get your number from matsukawa and would start texting you nonstop, asking you to hang out with him after his practices, pitching the idea you watch him during practice so you guys can walk home together.

"oikawa, i live in the opposite direction."

"it's okay! i like talking to you, [name]!~"

⤷ oikawa would obnoxiously point at you whenever he scored a point if you were watching with a smirk, making your heart flutter, but you would roll your eyes at him.

⤷ oikawa would walk up to you after winning the game with a grin.

"let's go on a date! i would say i deserve it for winning."

"go with one of your fangirls or something, trashykawa."

"noooo, i wanna go with you!~" he pouts.

"celebrate with your teammates, how about that?" you roll your eyes.

"but i don't like them, i like you, [name]!"

⤷ oikawa would bring you into the tightest hug when you would agree, practically skipping over to the rest of the team and gushing about how he has a date with you.

━━━ DAICHI SAWAMURA

⤷ daichi would see you walking kiyoko the gym, and would try to be nonchalant on asking kiyoko who you were.

⤷ daichi would see you hanging with kiyoko a lot, and would pretend to ask kiyoko things about later's practice just to see you and try to talk to you.

"hi, im daichi sawamura, karasuno's volleyball captain."

⤷ daichi would start asking kiyoko things about you, and would bring you up to her without even noticing it.

"what class is [name] in?"

"does [name] watch our games?"

"is [name] in any clubs?"

⤷ daichi would begin stuttering and turn red when kiyoko would ask if he has a crush on you, but would immediately perk up when she asks if he wants to hang out with you guys sometime.

⤷ daichi would compliment you whenever he passed by you in the halls, and would start small talk.

⤷ daichi would be very respectful whenever he hung out with you and kiyoko, earning him brownie points from you and kiyoko.

⤷ daichi would ask for your number, and would text you constantly, even during school, asking you how are your classes and if you were busy after school.

⤷ daichi would put in the maximum effort when he saw you watching one of the games, hoping to impress you.

⤷ daichi would become irritated on the downlow when nishinoya and tanaka saw you talking to kiyoko after the game, and when they both started fanboying over 'two goddesses', then would scold them for being animals.

⤷ daichi would decide to confess to you on a random weekend after he caught himself thinking of you while he was out and about doing errands.

⤷ daichi would show up to your front door with a bouquet of flowers.

"daichi? what are you doing here?"

"i just wanted to tell you that i have liked you for quite sometime," he clears his throat. "and i was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me."

⤷ daichi would sigh in relief when you agreed, giving you the flowers with a wide smile and red cheeks.

⤷ daichi would start running home excitedly, while smiling widely after you went back into your home after giving him a kiss on the cheek.

━━━ KITA SHINSUKE

⤷ kita saw you in the hallways once when he went to meet up with his teammates for lunch, finding you absolutely breathtaking.

⤷ kita had bumped into you a few days after, immediately apologizing to you with a slight blush, asking if you were okay with immense worry in his tone.

⤷ kita would start seeking you out discreetly, but was caught by aran when he saw kita looking at you so fondly.

"who is that?"

"who?" kita tried to brush off, making aran roll his eyes.

⤷ kita would go up to you one day after school at your shoe locker, asking if you wanted to exchange phone numbers because he wanted to get to know you.

⤷ kita would text you every night, asking about your day and what kind of foods did you like so he can make you some when he could, leaving it on your desk the next morning with a note.

⤷ kita would start approaching you throughout the day, engaging in a conversation and asking how the food was to your liking.

⤷ kita would start giving you small snacks and treats with a note on your desk every morning, and would walk you home after your clubs.

⤷ kita would write you a love note, telling you how he feels on your desk with a few flowers that reminded him of you.

⤷ kita would wait for you outside of your classroom with a bento box in hand and another flower, nervously fumbling with the cloth of the bento box.

"did you like it? the letter, i mean...?"

"of course i did, kita. i like you, too."

⤷ kita would burst into a wide smile, handing you the flower and the bento box, walking beside you with a hand on your lower back as you two walked to somewhere else more isolated to eat your lunches as the twins, suna and aran cheered him on from the corner.

note(s):

requests are open gang