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#fic: in every universe
firenati0n · 4 months
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wip wednesday <3 :)
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hello :) sorry for the late post, I had an Eventful Night and then also Day (derogatory) so I'm posting this as a way to say hello to my friends ahshakahsjsh HI I LOVE YOU ALL 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍
snip from a wip I started a while back simply titled "dark matter au" so if you're familiar with the sci-fi thriller novel of the same name...buckle up buttercup!!!
Alex watches Henry play with David in their living room from the kitchen as he monitors a pot on the stove. He loves their Thursday night tradition, just the three of them. Henry playing with David, Alex cooking, watching the loves of his life be at peace. A little reprieve from the stress of their jobs, outside of time and space, in the sanctuary of their little Park Slope brownstone; tucked away from prying eyes and late nights, a pocket of time and space for them to unwind.
Alex stirs the vegetables with a content smile, none the wiser that tonight is when everything he has ever known, everything he has ever loved, comes to an abrupt end.
xoxo roop
open tag since it's late, but tagging folks who tagged me below the cut 🤍
@ninzied @thinkof-england @alasse9 @porcelainmortal @blueeyedgrlwrites
@indestructibleheart @heysweetheart-writes @sparklepocalypse @suseagull04 @myheartalivewrites
@thesleepyskipper @piratefalls @orchidscript @cha-melodius @kiwiana-writes
@onthewaytosomewhere @saturntheday
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chiriwritesstuff · 5 months
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... in Every Universe; Masterlist
A Roswell-inspired Modern! Din Djarin x F! Reader Soulmates AU
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Series Rating: E (18+ MDNI)
Series Summary: At five years old, you're found wandering alone in a weird town called Roswell and have no recollection of how you got there. 20 years later, you're working at your adoptive family's diner and you can't help the connection you feel with the town's bounty hunter, who just can't stop staring at you... what happens when you're on the brink of death and the man in question saves you in a way you can't explain?
Warnings & Tags: Canon divergent, minor descriptions of violence towards the reader (she gets shot), flashes between different universes and POVs, eventual smut, explicit language, loosely based on 'Roswell' (the 1999 WB series), Grogu exists in all universes, no beta we die like men!
Chapter List:
Prologue
Let Me In - Coming Soon! │ Sneak Peek
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endlessartpumpkin · 8 months
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"He hums, sleepily. His gaze is trained on the fireplace now, seemingly mesmerized by the flames dancing there. But when she drapes a blanket over him he drags his gaze up to meet hers."
A young Time and Malon from this beautiful fic by the amazingly talented and lovely @adrift-in-thyme! <3
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evercelle · 5 months
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HAPPY MAID DAAAAY whew wow who is this MYSTERIOUS maid who is possibly also a DETECTIVE?? only one way to find out...
MAIDGATE (r/OumaKokichi), fic by @merthurlin
it's another collab with maayan! the thrilling sequel to last year's deranged maidective/idol AU!! i drew a bunch of pics for idolouma's stans to puzzle over. they're all embedded in the fic, but i'll put the extras under a cut :)c
these are version are without ouma's graffiti on them...!
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(if ur asking is that his zozotown outfit the answer is yes. i dont know how to dress idols)
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fangirl-dot-com · 7 months
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Across Every Universe - Part 2
Well, I didn't expect this work to get this long. It was only supposed to be short but then I worked on it all day and for multiple hours on end?? I guess I just enjoy this concept so much! These are basically the stories I wanted to put in last time, but they needed their own chapter to truly shine.
I know people asked for Arthur and reader romance, but To Do Is To Dare has always been a racing fic first and romance second. I tried to add in all the people I could without going crazy with the plot line or it would have gotten out of hand (or more than it already is). There is a lot of Max and Charles (my two favorite boys on the grid).
If anyone has anything against Lestappen - there's the door :)
Please enjoy :)
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“Please stand for his Majesty King Max Emilian Verstappen, King of the Netherlands and Prince of Orange.” 
Max always hated these announcements. Like, why did they have to always say his middle name and all the titles that came with it? He put on a gentle smile and waved to the crowds around him. Thankfully, his dressers had decided to forgo the kingly robes and opted for a nice suit with his pins. Definitely fitting for the Dutch Grand Prix. 
This would be his ninth to attend since taking the throne at 18-years-old after his father passed away. The kind always enjoyed seeing the Orange Army at the home race. 
After greeting everyone, he was led to the special box. Apparently, more than one royal had decided to attend as well. Max’s shoulders loosened when his eyes landed on a familiar figure. 
“Charles!”
Charles Marc Herve Perceval Leclerc, The Sovereign Prince of the Principality of Monaco. Max was always glad that his mother only chose one middle name for him instead of three. 
The prince’s green eyes widened at the sight of the Dutchman. He waved off whoever he was speaking to and all but glided across the room. The two forwent the formalities and brought each other into a hug. 
Max leaned back a bit to look the Monegasque in the eye. 
“What are you doing here? Monaco not enough for you?” 
There was a playful glint in his eyes as Charles rolled his. The brunet gestured to a plush couch in the corner, one that Max was excited to sit in. 
Charles began to speak, a small smile on his face, “Well as you know, my brother is currently dating one of the drivers on the grid. And it is her home race so Arthur wanted to come watch.” 
Max nodded, understanding perfectly. He knew exactly who Charles was talking about.
Y/n L/n, the only female driver, who currently was working on her fourth World Champion.
“And where is your brother now?” 
“He’s in the garage,” Charles rolled his eyes. He had wanted to go, but an ambassador had insisted that he needed to talk to the prince. 
“Why don’t we head there. I always want to say hello to my race winner.” 
Now, Max and Y/n had a very loving sibling relationship. The king had watched her grow up karting and made sure to sponsor her and support her through her career. Without his support, the girl would not have been able to continue. Yet, when you put the royal Dutch crest on your Formula 3 car, someone has to know that it means something. 
This would be her 4th season in Red Bull, having been 19 when she joined in 2019. She was only 20 when she won her first World Championship, breaking the record for the youngest ever to dominate the sport. 
Now she was 24 and is on a path to win her fourth in only five races if she keeps up the winning streak. Max was only older by 3 years, yet he watched over her like a very protective older brother. 
He and Charles had made their way down to the pitlane, much to their advisors’ chagrin. They passed by the Mercedes garage to say hello to King Lewis Hamilton III and then George Russell, Duke of Sussex. The two Brits had been friends or well, colleagues, with the other two reigning monarchs for quite some time. They were currently backing Kimi Antonelli and Mick Schumacher, the current driver line up for Mercedes.
Right next to the silver garage stood a very orange and bright one. Max was excited to see Lando Norris, Duke of York also in attendance. He was very close with the two Aussie drivers, Oscar Piastri and Daniel Ricciardo. 
Down the line was Williams, who was attending to a very eager Logan Sargeant, the President of the United States’ kid. Max was fond of the blond and often said hello to him whenever he got the chance in diplomatic settings. 
But finally, they were able to reach the big navy garage. Max could definitely pick up Arthur’s almost French accent everywhere. But, his ears were tuned to the sound of your Dutch accent that was similar to his. 
“Geitje!” he called out, finding your blond hair against the navy racing suit. 
You looked over your shoulder, pausing the conversation with your boyfriend. You rolled your eyes when you saw Max in his kingly splendor. You took a few steps toward the fellow Dutch and gave him a hug. 
“I told you to quit calling me that. I’m not a kid anymore, or was never a goat for that matter.” 
Charles took this moment to catch up with his brother. 
Max looked down at you fondly. “You’ll always be that small kid whose suit was two sizes too big on her.” 
You honestly wanted to cry, but you kept the tears in. There was a race that you needed to win. 
“Are you going to give me my trophy this year?” 
“Don’t I every year?” 
You looked up in mock thought. “Well, there was that one year that you had appendicitis and your mom gave me my trophy.” 
Max lightly nudged you. “That was one year, let it go.” 
You grumbled. “Well I hope that someone won’t break my trophy this year.” 
Your teammate, Ollie Bearman, popped his head up from where he was looking at his tyres. 
“It was one year Y/n! One year!” 
You giggled at the disgruntled yells from the British Driver. Ollie had been one of your favorite teammates. 
Your first year, you were paired with the golden boy himself, Sebastian Vettel, before he retired with one last championship. And then your first year as world champion, you were paired with Oscar Piastri before he left for McLaren. Ollie had been your teammate for the past two years, but you had a feeling that he’d stick around for more than a year. 
You got the heads up that the race would be starting soon. You turned back to Max. 
“Are you staying here or do you have to go?” 
Max had a mischievous glint in his eyes and was about to reply before being interrupted. 
“Actually, their royal highnesses need to return to the royal box.” 
Max fought the urge to roll his eyes. You only laughed and pushed him in the direction of the exit. 
“Go, I’ll see you at the top.” 
“Blijf veilig, alsjeblieft,” Max softly pleaded. 
He really hated that you put your life on the line every weekend for the job that you loved. He remembers the first time you had a terrifying crash when you were unconscious until they got you to the hospital. He was told that you probably wouldn’t wake up. However, you defied the odds and were back in the seat for the next race. 
You responded, just as gentle, “Voor jou, mijn koning, altijd.” 
When Max left, he turned around one last time and witnessed you giving Arthur a quick kiss before he put your helmet on. It was something that the two of you had been doing since you started dating almost two years ago. 
The Dutch king was back to walking with Charles to the box. 
“So, when is he proposing.” 
He hadn’t expected an answer, but was surprised when he got one. 
Charles gave Max a look. “They’re actually going to a restaurant, and he plans to propose tonight.” 
Max’s eyes widened at the confession. But, he got over it quickly before gently smiling. You deserved happiness, and you found that in his closest friend’s brother. 
“So will she have to stop racing for royal duties?” the blond questioned. 
Charles shook his head. “Non. Arthur will step down.” 
Max clapped him on the back. “Guess you and Alexandra need to start with some heirs huh?” 
Charles squinted up at him. “Says the man who currently needs to propose as well.” 
The prince got the last laugh as he left Max stuttering for a comeback. 
You won the race like Max knew you would. The king watched as you held your head up high as the Dutch National Anthem played loudly through the crowds. He saw the crowds of orange, the only ones rivaling the red Tifosi at Monza. 
The crowds were shouting, “De Langverwachte! Onze kleine leeuw!” 
The Long Awaited. 
Their Little Lion. 
Max had always wished for a champion from his home country. Something to ode back to the sport he loved as a kid. His wish came true in the form of you. People talked as the king publicly backed the only female driver on the grid. But he knew that you were something special. He was there as you took the championship from Vettel in the last lap of the 2020 season fair and square. Obviously he was thankful that there was no safety car to ruin your race of any kind. You had coped brilliantly against your older teammate and your talent truly showed.
Max was given the signal to head out with the hand painted trophy. He was honestly kind of scared to drop it. But he made it across the stage and handed it out to you.
You proudly took the trophy from Max after you bowed in respect. He may have been your friend, but he was your king first. 
The ceramic trophy was held high once it was safely in your hands. Jokingly you hugged it tight as you gently stepped down off the podium. Ollie gawked at your childishness before spraying you with the champagne. 
With trophy set down a nice ways away, you took your own bottle. Except, instead of spraying Ollie, you pointed it at Max, whose jaw was on the floor as you came after him with the liquid. 
If you were having fun now, you wouldn’t expect what was coming later that night. 
And you said yes. 
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“Zusje!”
Your eyes widened at the familiar squeaky and young voice. You turned your whole body away from your race engineer to only be taken down in the knees. Once you were on the floor, you laps was immediately filled with a small body that had bleach blond hair and bright blue eyes. 
“Maxy, Ik heb je gemist Kleintje!” 
“Uh Y/n, is everything good?” Charles’s voice sounded from above. You stared back at your teammate in the red overalls. You grabbed under the child’s arms and hoisted him up along with yourself. 
“Yep! Charles meet Max. Max meet Charlie.” 
Max’s small eyes widened before he tucked himself in your neck. Your hand came up and rubbed his back as you cooed. You turned back to Charles. 
“He’s a bit shy in front of his favorite driver.” 
You poked Max’s side and his giggles filled the room. The small one turned his head and peered at the Monegasque whose eyes were wide, looking at the child in his teammate’s arms. 
“Didn’t know you had a kid.” 
Your jaw dropped at his statement. 
“He’s not my kid, idiot. He’s my brother,” you hissed, lightly bouncing Max up and down as you swayed side to side. 
“Oooohhhh.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah oh. I’m younger than you.” 
“One night stand?” 
“Charles!”
The brunet laughed loudly, making Max giggle a bit with him. You looked down into his blue eyes. 
“Oh so you think that’s funny hm? I’m getting bullied.” 
Max only giggled more before pointing at Charles. 
“Rari?” 
You lovingly stared at him in your arms. “Yep, Rari.” You saw how Charles was staring at Max. “You want to hold him?” 
Charles dropped everything (only his water bottle) and reached out to take Max. Once he was in Charles’s arms, Max immediately rested his head on his shoulder and gripped the red suit. You smiled fondly at the two. 
“He’s so small,” Charles whispered after seeing the kid’s eyes close in slumber. 
You ruffled the spiky blond hair. “Yeah, he’s only 3 though. Full of wonder.” 
“Y/n!” 
Ah, there was your mother. You looked over and saw Sophie walking with your other sister Victoria. Thankfully, your dad was nowhere to be found. After you found out what he had done to Max, you put in a restraining order against him immediately. 
It was a hard discussion with your mom when you told her that she needed to divorce him. Tears were shed and hearts were broken. But, you never wanted to see another bruise on your younger brother again. 
It was fine if he did that to you. But to Max? 
Jos wouldn’t stand a chance against your anger. He had shaped you to be like him. 
A racer. A winner. The best. 
But being the best wasn’t supposed to be the most important anymore. And if he wanted you to be like him, then he’ll get his own anger thrown back into his face. You remembered how your fist met his eye after you found Max alone with him one night. An ugly purple thing covered Max’s tiny wrist and there was a scratch on his face. 
You had just returned home from a triple header and wanted to surprise your family. Only, you came home to Max’s screams of terror and Jos Verstappen yelling. You didn’t think, you just did. Sophie and Victoria returned home to multiple police cars and an ambulance in front of the house. When they finally were told what happened, they found you covering Max’s body with your arms as you spoke to one of the paramedics. A blanket was draped around your shoulders and a bruise was forming on your face as well. 
After that, you moved your entire family to Monaco with you. Your house was plenty bit and you only shared it with Charles whenever he came over to play FIFA. But now, whenever he wanted to play, you insisted on going to his house. 
It might have been to protect your family. Or it might have had to do with a certain handsome brother that Charles had. 
Definitely the first one.   
Hence why Charles had never met Max beforehand. But that also didn’t stop the little gremlin from choosing Charles as his favorite driver and not his sister. 
It’s not like you were bitter or anything. 
You walked toward your family and gave the two women a hug. 
“I’m glad that you could come today!” you told them, truly happy at their arrival. It wasn’t like it was a big race. You had already won the championship last week, which sadly they weren’t able to make it. But Max was still up past his bedtime when you got home after. The kid sleepily muttered that he was glad you won, even though you had beaten Charles. Yet, you reminded him that Charles had won the year before and it was sissy’s turn. 
Sophie looked at Max in Charles’s arms. “He’s so comfortable. I honestly thought he’d be scared of men after what happened.” 
Victoria nodded in agreement. 
You crossed your arms. “I think that Max knows that dad wasn’t a good man. And well, he still loves Lando though.” 
“Is that Max?” 
Speaking of. 
Max’s head jerked up from Charles’s shoulder at the familiar voice. His little head swerved in the direction of the papaya clad driver. 
“Lanno!” 
Max started to squirm in the captive arms. Charles quickly set him down, not wanting him to fall. Max immediately ran to the Briton, who picked him up with ease. At the sight of the two, Charles pouted. 
You knocked him with your shoulder. “Don’t’ worry, you’re still his favorite. He bought Max a toy McLaren for his birthday and Max demanded that I paint it red and add a 16 on the side.” 
Charles seemed to gleam with pride at the confession. 
“Don’t tell Lando though. He’d be devastated.” 
What Lando didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 
“Hey little man. You ready to watch the race?” 
Max’s head bobbed quickly. 
“Are you going to watch Lanno win?” 
At that, Max shook his head making Lando’s eyes widened. 
“Little Verstappen I am hurt.” Lando clutched his hand to his heart in mock hurt. Max only stared at him while the McLaren driver put on a bit of a show. 
Charles piped up from beside you. “Max, is Charlie going to win?” 
Max, once again, shook his head. Now that made you confused, because Max always cheered for Charles. You cocked your head as you looked at your brother. 
“Then who Maxy?” 
The boy shyly pointed at you before muttering, “Zusje gaat jullie allemaal verslaan.” 
Not that made you laugh out loud, causing even more confusion to the two male drivers. You covered your mouth as you continued to laugh. Sophie and Victoria laughing as well. 
You smirked at your rival and teammate. 
“He said I’m going to kick your asses.” 
Max gasped as he heard your words. 
“Bad words!” 
Max pouted as he was put down by Lando. His little legs ran to you and his arms stretched out wanting you to pick him up. You squatted and scooped him up. Your arms tightened around him as he tried his best to hug you. 
“Sorry for the bad words kid.” 
“’S ok,” he slurred, getting even more tired. It was definitely his nap time. And it was time to get in your car. You handed him back to Sophie, who gave you a kiss on your head as you stooped. You gave a quick hug to Victoria before going back to kiss Max’s head. 
“I’ll win for you ok?” 
Obviously, he couldn’t hear you, but you would say it anyway. You turned away from your family to get ready. 
“Going soft on me L/n?” Lando quipped, making his way out of your garage. 
You discreetly flipped him off, to which he laughed at as he left. It took about 30 minutes to get in the car and get everything ready. You swerved your head, making sure the helmet was tight. Your eyes flitted about the garage and caught sight of your family again. Max was now wide awake and waving at you. 
Your gloved hand reached out and displayed your fingers wide. The little boy reached over in his mom’s arms and clapped your hand with his small one. You were given the signal that it was time and drove off once Sophie was out of the way. 
Her and Max watched as you rounded the corner in your red Ferrari, out of sight. 
Sophie leaned down and kissed her youngest’s head.
“Mijn baby, zal zus winnen?” 
Max’s small voice was just loud enough for her to hear. 
“Ja mama, sij is kampioen.” 
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(btw - I made the max pic because no one has good edits of him in a ferrari suit)
“Scuderia Ferrari Signs Y/n L/n for the 2024 Season”
“Ferrari Mistake? The Formula 1 Team Signs the Youngest Driver to Date” 
“Ferrari Becomes the First Formula 1 Team to Sign Female Driver” 
“Former F1 Champion Lorenzo Alessandrino Backs Goddaughter as Her Race Engineer” 
“How Will Verstappen React to His Younger Teammate on the Track?” 
You hadn’t known what to expect when you arrived at the paddock first thing on Saturday morning. You had convinced Lorenzo to bring you early so you could at least avoid some of the crowds, if not all. However, it seemed like everyone else liked that plan as well, and the paddock was full. 
You hung back near Enzo as the two of you walked side by side. Your hands gripped your backpack straps hard, turning your knuckles almost stark white. Thankfully, your sunglasses kept your wide and scared eyes from the public. It wasn’t that you were scared of people. It’s what you thought that they thought about you that made you nervous. 
Just 17 and baby faced. 
Something that wasn’t heard of in 2024. Yet, with older drivers retiring back and forth, the FIA had to make new changes to deal with the need of rookie drivers. Hence why Lorenzo pushed to have Ferrari sign you as early as possible. You basically went from karting, to Formula 2 and didn’t even start your second season. 
It came as a shock when Lewis Hamilton finally retired after only one year at Ferrari. You had thought that he’d want to get one more championship to make it to 9. But, life throws curveballs and it was headed straight to you. 
Now you had to face your new teammate, a champion himself, Max Verstappen. You let out a sigh of relief when you noticed that he was talking to Charles Leclerc and Fernando Alonso. The two black Mercedes polos stood out in contrast to Max’s red one. You took a quick glance at the two drivers and realized that they were already watching you. 
Your cheeks heated up as you quickened your steps to get to the garage faster. Once you were in the safety of the garage, you let out a deep sigh. 
Lorenzo looked at you with a sad smile. He knew you were going to be overwhelmed for the entire day. He took his backpack off and reached down in, fingers feeling for your headphones. He took them out and handed them to you. 
You immediately put them on, connected them to your phone, turned on the music, and got to work on your racing journal. You wanted to go over your notes before the race. While you were distracted, Enzo took a little walk, trying to find some coffee. 
He ended up walking past the group of three drivers and smiled at Charles. The Italian knew of him growing up and was excited to see him in a team that gave him a good championship winning car. 
He nodded his head toward your new teammate. “Max.” 
Max’s eyes lightened at the familiar face. “Enzo!” 
The two bro-hugged before parting, letting Enzo greet the two Merc drivers. When he was done, Max had a teasing attitude. 
“Can’t convince you to stay as my engineer? Don’t get me wrong, I love GP, but you knew me better.” 
Enzo smiled and shook his head. “No can do. Gotta take care of my kid.” 
Fernando entered the conversation. “Where is she? We saw her walking but then she disappeared.” 
The older man scratched his head. “Yeah, she tends to do that. She’s a bit nervous.” 
Charles scoffed. “I’ll say. They shouldn’t have said anything until Wednesday. Sky Sports announced it way too early.” 
The Monegasque had something similar happen to him when he first joined Mercedes. It had all been planned that he would take Valtteri Bottas’s seat mid-season. Yet, Sky Sports announced it before Mercedes had a chance to even say that Bottas had wanted to retire early due to an illness. The media had made Charles into a seat-stealing villain his first season. 
The engineer nodded sadly. “I think she’s also nervous about the team.” 
Max looked at him with a shocked expression. “The team?” 
Enzo waved his hands. “She has full confidence. Y/n’s a bit nervous about trying to be on your level Max.” 
Well, that didn’t settle well with the Dutchman. Great, he was excited to have such a young teammate: someone who he could get along with and help them grow in the sport. But now, you were afraid of him? 
“She’s not scared of you Max, just nervous.” 
Oh. He said that out loud. 
Max glanced back at the garage. “Can I go talk to her.” 
Enzo nodded before handing him a pen. “I forgot to give this to her, she’ll be looking for it. You don’t mind giving it to her right?” 
“Not at all,” he responded, thankful for something that could break the ice between the two of you. 
Max grasped the pen and made his way to the overly bright red garage. He really wished Ferrari would take a page out of Mercedes’s book and make everything black. But no, they had to show off the corsa rosso red. 
You were too busy writing some notes down, with the wrong pen, to notice Max’s shoes now in your line of sight. The Dutchman lightly nudged your own shoe, which had your head jerking up to look at him. 
Your eyes widened and your hands reached to pull your headphones off. 
Max only smiled down at you. He thought that you looked like a scared mouse. He wondered if you were quiet like one as well. 
“Mind if I sit?” he asked. 
You could only shake your head no and scoot over as Max sat down on the concrete near you. The two of you sat in silence as you continued to scribble. Max suddenly remembered the pen in his hand. 
“Here. Enzo wanted me to give this to you.” 
Your fingers lightly touched his as you grabbed it from him. 
To Max, you also reminded him of his sister at this age. Shy, meek, quiet. But he had seen your videos and your impressiveness on the track. Your overtakes were nothing to be overlooked. He heard you sigh as the pen now nicely glided over the pages. 
The Dutchman let his eyes wander over the pages. He noticed that you were even taking notes on him as well.
You didn’t look at him, but you spoke, “If you break a bit later on turn 4, you can cut off another tenth.” 
Your voice gave Max whiplash as he wasn’t expecting you to talk to him without being prompted. His mind ran as he tried to remember turn 4. When he did the calculations he was surprised to find that you were correct. 
“How did you..” 
“I watched your onboards from last season. You’re very, what’s the word,” you gave him a smirk, “predictable.” 
Max’s jaw dropped, which caused you to laugh a bit. Max, although shocked, was glad that you were coming out of your shell a bit. 
He leaned over to whisper, “Are you overwhelmed with the red as much as I am.” 
You smiled as you whispered back, “It is positively draining. Why can’t they do black like Mercedes?” 
Max threw his hands up. “That’s what I’ve been saying.” 
You pretended to think. “What if we gang up on them. They can’t resist both drivers.” 
Max put on a weird accent, making his voice higher. “It’s either change the garage and everything to black or we walk.” 
That made you snort which caused Max to wheeze. 
Enzo was just on his way back with two coffees (both for him) when he heard the sound of you laughs mixed with Max’s. He smiled fondly at the two drivers. He took a sip before putting on his bright red headphones that he needed for qualifying. He coughed a bit, but it was soon over. Nothing like the sickness that he barely beat back in 2019. He was thankful that he got to continue to watch you grow. 
Max asked, “How far do you think you’ll get in qualifying?” 
You thought for a moment. “Uh, I hope to make it to Q2 if possible.”
The Dutchman lifted his hand to ruffle your hair. Your hands swatted at him as you pouted. 
“I think you can get farther.” 
You only shrugged. “We’ll see.” 
The car was definitely your safe space. You felt as though you could finally breathe easier. 
“Radio check please.” 
“Loud and clear Enzo.” 
“Ok, let’s get this bread.” 
You shook your head as you sat in the car. “Please never say that again.” 
Much to your and the team’s delight, you made it past Q1 and Q2. And you ended Q3 in the second row in P3. Max had just missed pole by mere hundredths. Charles Leclerc always had scarily good one lappers in the third session. 
Max gave you a giant hug at the end of the session, very glad at your positioning. 
As he had his arms around you, he thought to himself. 
“Yeah. You were going to be great.” 
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The big letters stood out to Max as his eyes began to water. 
“Not Applicable for Adoption at this Time” was all the top said. He hadn’t bothered to read the rest. He knew what it was going to say. It’s what every letter said for the past few months. 
They weren’t approved. 
They traveled too much. 
There weren’t any in their preferred age group that were adoptable right now. 
They wouldn’t be able to take care of a baby. 
They were…Max didn’t even want to mention the word. 
He glanced at the gold band that adorned his ring finger on his left hand. The sight made his eyes water more. The paper was quickly crumpled and thrown to the side. The Dutchman leaned forward and put his hands over his face and just sobbed. 
They had been trying for so long. The conversation had started two years ago as they lied in bed one night. They were nearing the ends of their careers, but they hadn’t wanted to wait until they were retired. They were sure in their marriage enough to where they both could handle a baby in their lives. 
A mini them running around, playing with Jimmy and Sassy. The thought was too much to bear right now though. 
The door clicked but Max hadn’t heard, he just continued to sob. 
“Amore, I’m back from the shop. They had the pastries that you really liked. Amore?”
Max started sobbing harder. Before he heard knew it, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders. He heard a big sigh as a head rested against his back. 
“Another one?” 
Max didn’t even reply, but his sobs had subsided into quiet sniffles. Charles glanced over at the crumpled paper that had been tossed to the side. He’s told Max time and time again to wait until he gets home to read them, but the older was always a bit too excited or anxious to wait. He bit his tough, not wanting to say anything that could upset the Dutchman even more. 
“It will be all right.” 
“Will it?” Max bit back, full of sadness and anger. But, it wasn’t anger at Charles. He was angry at the world. 
“It will,” Charles hummed. However, the Monegasque was also getting run down by all the rejection letters. He didn’t know how much more he could take. But, he wanted to be strong for Max. For himself. For their hopeful future child. 
“Every time Charlie. Every time, it’s always a different excuse.” 
“Our time will come.” 
“But what if it doesn’t? We aren’t getting any younger Charles.” 
The Monegasque harshly inhaled. He stopped rubbing Max’s back. Although, he really didn’t know when he started. 
He went to say something, yet his phone rang loudly, breaking the silence of the room. Charles muttered something about wanting to hang up, but his breath hitched at the sight of the name at the top of his phone. His thumb had never pressed the answer button. 
He quickly put the call on speaker. 
“Bonjour?”
“Ah, Mr. Verstappen?”  
“This is he.” 
“Is your husband here with you?” 
Max perked up at the question. His eyes were bloodshot, but he was now paying attention. He scooted even closer to Charles, face almost in the phone. 
Charles chuckled at Max’s closeness. 
“Oui, he is here.” 
“Ok, so we just got a call from the Princess Grace Hospital. We think you want to come here for this.” 
Max gulped before whispering. “It is what we think it is?” 
Charles held his breath as he and Max waited for the answer. 
“Why don’t you come find out.”
The two of them could hear the playfulness as the their adoption agent hung up the phone. They looked into each other’s eyes before they dashed around, getting their shoes on. Max almost tripped as he hopped on one foot, his shoe getting caught on his finger. Charles chuckled as he bent to tie his own shoe. 
Max was halfway out the door, still waiting. 
“Come on Charlie.”
“Mon amore, are you forgetting something?” 
Max patted his pockets and realized he forgot the key that were now dangling on Charles’s finger. 
“Oh.” 
Charles rolled his eyes as he walked toward the door, grabbing Max’s waste as he walked. The Dutchman quickly followed him to the Monegasque’s Ferrari Purosangue. He bought the SUV when he and Max put in their first adoption profile. 
Max huffed as he noticed that Charles was going below the speed limit. 
“Baby, can you maybe, hurry up?” 
Charles only hummed as a reply. He did step on the gas a bit, but the Monaco speeds were slow as it. It wasn’t their fault that they drove ridiculously fast cars and his husband was currently high strung. 
Charles put his hand on Max’s thigh and started to rub small circles, which in the long run did help Max calm down a bit. 
The Dutchman had calmed down some by the time they parked in front. Charles started to get out of the car, but Max’s hand grabbed his arm before he got far. Charles recognized the look of fear on his husband’s face. His pointer finger found the golden band on Max’s finger and started to rub it. 
“What if- What if- What if it happens again.” 
Charles’s eyes drooped a bit at the sadness in Max’s voice. 
“But what if it doesn’t?” 
A glimmer of hope came back to Max’s eyes as he places a chaste kiss on Charles’s lips. 
“Let’s go.”
With an unbuckle of his seatbelt, Max was out the door. Charles had to catch up to Max’s larger steps. His hand soon found Max’s as they walked in. He squeezed three times, and got three in return. 
Charles look the lead as they approached the front desk. The lady at the computer had a nice attitude as she gave them a smile when she looked up from her screen. 
“May I help you gentlemen?” 
“Ah, yes, my husband and I got a call from our adoption agent, Mitch Walker.” 
The lady’s eyebrows raised as she started to type on her computer once again. Max bounced in his place, willing the lady to type faster. 
“Ah, floor three, room 89.” 
“Thank you,” Charles stated, already watching Max walk toward the elevator. He chuckled as he slowly followed, knowing the elevator would arrive when he got there. Inside the contraption, Max read the list of floors. 
His finger traced them until he got to the third floor. 
“Charlie.”
Charles looked where his finger had landed. 
Delivery floor.
Before Charles could react, the elevator doors opened. They both bolted into the hallway. 
86. 
87. 
88. 
89. 
They both paused in front. 
“Ready?” 
“Ready.” 
Charles grabbed the nob and slowly twisted. The room was a bit dim and Mitch was standing in the middle of the room. She turned at the sound of the door and a smile made a way on her face. 
“Hi guys,” she whispered. She stepped closer and pulled a curtain that cut the room in half. 
“Hi,” Charles replied, also whispering. 
Mitch put her hands together. “So, we have a little someone who was given up today. If everything goes well, you two might be going home with a baby today.” 
Tears welled up in Max’s eyes at her words. He choked down a sob and bit his knuckle.
“I just need you two to wash your hands and then you can meet her.” 
Charles whispered, “Her?” 
Mitch only nodded. 
This time, Charles was the one to let out a small sob. They gingerly walked over to the sink, hands bumping into each other as they rinsed under the water. Once dry, Mitch dragged the curtain back over. 
In the middle of the smaller section near a couch, lied a bassinet. With bated breath, Charles and Max peered over. Tears now welling in both their eyes. Max’s finger gently moved towards the baby’s face. 
He lightly grazed the soft cheek, causing the baby to squirm. Max had never jerked his hand away from something faster. Charles let out a small and quiet laugh. The baby’s hand was open, inviting Charles to put his finger in the tiny palm. 
The baby suddenly curled her fingers around the one finger, eyes suddenly opening. The Dutchman wanted to cry once again. Her green eyes peered up at him. Max’s eyes caught a tuft of hair and he gently pulled back the tiny hat. Blond hair appeared in a small bit. He gently pulled the hat back into place. 
His blond hair. 
Charles’s green eyes. 
Charles turned to Mitch. 
“Can I hold her.” 
A single nod had Charles scooping the baby in his arms, and he placed her on his chest. His body leaned back just a bit to accommodate her. Max immediately took his phone out and took a picture. He was definitely going to use that as his lock screen picture from now on. 
Max watched as Charles sat on the small couch in the corner. Max followed suit and sat next to him. 
The baby was looking right at him. 
“Hello little one,” he whispered, finding the courage to graze her face once again. A small smile appeared on the girl’s face, but it was short lived. But, Max had seen it and he was happy that it was directed at him. 
“-ax, Amore.”
His eyes shot up to Charles’s face. 
“Yes?” 
The brunet rolled his eyes. “I asked: Do you want to hold her?” 
Max could only nod. Charles gently handed her over to his husband and watched as his big hands cradled the baby. One hand was gently placed on her bum and the other on her head. He cooed at the man and baby, seeing tears stream down his face. 
Mitch quietly approached the couple. “So, it seems like everything is going well. I can almost read your minds and I got your application approved. It’ll take a while for everything to come in but you are good to take her home.” 
Charles stood and gave her a giant hug: big enough for the both of them. She patted Charles’s back before grinning widely again. 
“You know, she doesn’t have a name yet.” 
Max’s head whipped from the baby to the woman. 
“We get to name her?” he questioned, heart filling with so much love. There were so many names that he and Charles had picked out. The first name would be something special, something not used before. The middle names would be in honor of loved ones past and present. And then, the baby would take both last names. 
Mitch came over with a certificate and pen in hand. 
“Do you two know or do you need a moment?” 
Max nodded at Charles and then looked back down at the beautiful green eyes that stared up with him. 
Charles did the honors. 
“Her name is Y/n Julia Sophie Pascale Antoinette Leclerc-Verstappen.” 
Little Y/n. Oh how the world wasn’t ready. But it would welcome her with open arms.
Earth 959589 
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“Shit!” you yelled, tumbling out of bed. You were late, oh you were so late. Max was going to kill you and you could say goodbye to your seat. 
Before the season even started. 
You tripped as you pulled on a shoe, face planting back into the bed. Your phone was currently blowing up with notifications as it rested on the side table. You hastily pulled on your Red Bull polo and grabbed your jeans. Your foot got stuck since you put your shoes on first. 
Great move Y/n, great move. 
You finally got a hand on your phone and answered the call. 
“Where are you? Max is close to having an aneurism,” your race engineer hissed through the phone.  
“I know Charles, but my alarm never went off!” 
Your head was pressing your phone to your shoulder as you talked and walked toward the elevator. 
“Just please get here ASAP,” he sighed. You could see the man rubbing his eyebrows, even if you couldn’t see him. 
“I’m getting in the car now.” 
“You better be thankful. I’ll see you here.” 
When you arrived to the paddock, you went directly to the interviews, which you were late for as well. You winced as you walked in front of everyone and sat down, face ablaze in red. 
Lando poked your side. At least he went with the polo so you two could be matching some. He leaned over when a question was directed to Arthur. 
“Max is going to kill you.” He smirked as he leaned away. Your microphone accidentally picked up the smack to his shoulder. Some eyes landed on you as you tried to duck away. 
Arthur looked over at you. “Nice of you to join us champ.” 
You shrugged. “My alarm didn’t go off.” 
“Sure.” 
Your jaw dropped. “Excuse you?” 
Before you could get any farther, a journalist asked a question directed toward you. 
“Y/n, if I may, how is this season a bit different than last?” 
Your eyes looked up as you thought of a good answer. “Uh, well, there was a lot of change within Red Bull this past winter break. My old teammate went to being my team principal. And then he somehow convinced Charles to join as well and be my race engineer.” 
A scoff came from Arthur that cause you to lean to look at him. 
“Are you all right Leclerc?” 
The Monegasque rolled his eyes. 
“I would like to have my brother back please.” 
“Well, too bad I got him first. And then back to my question. Lando became my teammate and he’s giving me a run for my money.” 
Lando smirked at that statement. 
“Ah yes, the cheeky little bugger he is. But, I’m really on track for my second championship. Maybe next year I’ll let Lando get one.” 
The journalist thanked you for your good answer.
Fortunately the press conference ended after that. Yet, it was unfortunate for you since you could feel Max’s glare from miles away. You stopped, causing Arthur to bump into your back. 
“Any chance I can come hide in your driver’s room?” 
Arthur shook his head yes, giving you some hope. 
“No.” 
You visibly deflated as you watched him walk toward the bright red garage. 
A sigh left your lips as you stalked toward the garage. Charles gave you a sympathetic look as you walked past. His hand rubbed your shoulder until he gently pushed you toward Max. You winced under the Dutchman’s glare. 
“My office Y/n.” 
You could only follow him into the office. You took the first seat you passed in front of the large desk. Max rubbed his eyebrows and sighed. But, you panicked. 
“I’m so sorry Max. I swore I turned on my alarms last night, but I was up late going over data again because I can’t let the team down again like last race. I know that I can make up the speed. And then my phone was on silent and then I tripped on my shoe and the car got stuck in traffic. I swear I went straight to the conference. I won’t be late again I promise, just please don’t take away my seat.” 
Max watched in horror as you lost your composure right in front of him. This monologue only told him that you were truly scared that he’d kick you off the team because of a little DNF last race. His heart dropped as he saw tears stream down your face as you visibly shook. 
He stood up quickly and rounded the desk. His hands dropped on your shoulders. 
“Kid, kid. Listen to me. You’re not going to lose your seat. I was just worried when you didn’t show up and when you didn’t answer mine or Charles’s calls.” 
“Oh.” 
Max wanted to laugh. “Yes, oh. Do you remember all the times I used to show up late? The times that Charles showed up late as well?” 
You let out a chuckle as you remembered both Ferrari drivers would show up a bit late. No one ever seemed to mind. You let out a sigh of relief. 
Max stood up and walked toward the door. “Now, let’s go out there and what do we do?” 
“Kick names and take ass!” 
Max rolled his eyes. “Sure kid. Sure.” 
Earth 1218 - Present Earth   
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You gasped as you sat up in your bed. 
“Kid?” Max questioned, head popping up from the couch. Vegas had been super early again and you and Max didn’t want to go back to the hotel when you had FP2 soon. So, the two of you just curled up in his driver’s room. His voice was groggy as he had just gotten up from an interrupted nap as well. 
You clutched your head and groaned. 
“I had such weird dreams.” 
“Oh. Tell me?” Max’s head was already back down on his pillow. 
“You were a king, and then you were my younger brother?” 
Max snorted but let you continue. He knew that you wouldn’t remember in the morning anyway. 
“And then you were my teammate at Ferrari and Charles drove for Mercedes, Enzo was there. Oh, and then you and Charles were married.” 
“Kid you have been watching too many Lestappen edits on Twitter and TikTok.” 
You only grumbled. 
“I do not. Finally you were my team principal.” 
“Strange. Go back to sleep.” 
Max never got an answer back, because you were already zonked. He chucked and turned back over, phone clenched in his hand as he watched the edit of Charles’s 2022 sunset lap into his 2023 pre-storm qualification. However, he didn’t know that his volume was so loud. 
“He was sunshine, I was midnight rain…And I could see it all in my mind…” 
“I KNEW IT! YOU WATCH THEM TOO!” 
“GO TO SLEEP!” 
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri
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glassy-eyed-poet · 1 month
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Me because I live and breathe for the marauders but the only merch I have is this mf:
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ra-archives · 9 months
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Yes Yes, I see your Mermaid Legend this and Merman Legend that, however,
Might I offer up some Siren Legend
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rustingcat · 6 months
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Here's a sketch from the fantastic fic One Single Thread of Gold by @autisticlenaluthor
I hope things will get better, darling. For now, I offer you this sketch:)
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planetwaynez · 3 months
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FLOWERS AND GOLDEN STRINGS
Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
SOULMATES AU!
Synopsis: Jason is certain that he is meant to help others, not just as a vigilante but also as some sort of twisted cupid. He thinks he is meant to only watch other fall in love and never find his forever and always, however after buying Lian some flowers for her birthday and a sucession of events envolving soulmates, he can't get the flower shop girl out of his head. Y/N thinks that the Red Hood is so hopeless in love with his soulmate but why does this fact bothers her so much? Why she wanted to be the center of his affaction? After months helping the vigilante, she meets her soulmate, Jason, but she can't forget the Red Hood. How will she deal with all those new and complicated emotions?
Warnings: SMUT! Canon-divergent, violence, foul lingauge, jelousy, complicated feelings, angst, fluffly, miscominucation, slow burn, injuries, kidnaping, paranoia and more to be added.
CHAPTERS
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
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cthulhum · 4 months
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dean with severe internalized homophobia in destiel aus is something that can be so personal
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chiriwritesstuff · 5 months
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... in Every Universe; 1. Let Me In (Sneak Peek)
A Roswell-inspired Modern! Din Djarin x F! Reader Soulmates AU
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Read the Prologue Here! │ Series Masterlist
... and here we go! I'm not going to lie- getting to walk down memory lane watching 'Roswell' has been quite a treat! I want to thank each and every one of you who has read and liked the series so far, I can't wait to explore what is in store for Nova and Din!
What happens when you think you've died, only to be brought back to life by the one man who haunts your dreams? Do you let him in?
Song Inspo for Chapter Title: ‘Let Me In’ - Save Ferris (the song Izzie & Alex danced to in season 1!)
Sneak Peek for Chapter 1 - 'Let Me In':
In those surreal moments just before the brink of death, they say your mind can conjure up some weird shit. Like a movie reel of your life playing on fast-forward. But what happens when those scenes aren't quite yours? When you feel like you're watching someone else's life play out, yet somehow, you're right there in the thick of it? In one moment, my life felt like it was on track: working in my dad's diner, dating the town sheriff, a loyal best friend by my side, and just one semester away from getting my degree in genetics. Everything seemed to be falling into place, like the pieces of a puzzle finally coming together. But then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed. I died. Just like that. And yet, somehow, I found myself being brought back to life in the arms of a man who had always seemed like a figment of my imagination, a constant presence in my dreams. As his touch breathed life back into me, it was like grasping hold of an invisible thread I'd been chasing forever. It's funny how a brush with death can make you reevaluate everything. Suddenly, the mundane rhythms of small-town life felt suffocatingly ordinary. And here I was, thrust into a world where the impossible seemed, well, possible.
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lihhelsing · 1 year
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cw: domestic abuse and mentions of violence
Eddie Munson is the most infamous hitman in Chicago. Everyone knows of him and if you ever feel like getting rid of someone he’s who you should hire.
Enters mob boss Tommy Hagan.
He hires Eddie for a delicate job, one that gets Eddie doing home visits for Tommy, something he doesn’t usually do. There he meets Tommy’s fiance, Steve Harrington.
Steve is… Addictive. Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of him, even if he tried.
And he doesn’t really feel like trying because Steve is sweet, gorgeous, everything Eddie ever wanted but could never have.
Steve might be a househusband, but he knows a lot about Tommy's business and the people he makes deals with, so under the pretense of researching his target, Eddie starts spending time with Steve.
Tommy keeps a bunch of archives in his home and he asks Steve to personally help Eddie through all of that while he's dealing with other shit. Steve is more than happy to comply, enjoying the distraction - and the company.
It doesn't take long for Eddie to realize there's something wrong happening between Tommy and Steve. Tommy keeps the facade of a good soon-to-be husband, brings Steve's flowers and gifts every time he goes out, but Eddie has never seen Steve out of the house.
He's seen Steve asking their house staff to get groceries and things like that but he always just assumed Steve preferred not to leave the house. Now...
Eddie starts to see that what he thought was a good, perfect relationship doesn't seem that perfect anymore. He sees the bags under Steve's eyes whenever Tommy greets Eddie in a bad mood. He sees the underlying tension in Steve's shoulders whenever Tommy walks into the room.
He sees the bruises, too.
The decision is made before Eddie can even think it through, and he is willing to risk his reputation, his work, and his life if it means getting Steve out of this.
But he’s not the only one with secrets and things won’t be as simple as just killing Tommy and walking away.
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urdepressedslut · 1 year
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Feels So Right ❝part two❞
♡ Pairing: Dbf!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: Ever since Bucky showed you how good things could feel, you need him to show you more.
♡ Warnings: smut, language, fluff, oral (fem receiving), rimming, fingering, petnames like a lot of them hehe,
part one ✧ main masterlist
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | 18+ ONLY
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It had been weeks since you and Bucky’s heated moment. Still you could feel his touch on your skin, you could still feel the pleasant buzz he had left behind. All in all, you craved him now that you had gotten a taste.
The week nights had been spent with your hand down your panties, playing with yourself just as he had taught you— but you couldn’t find relief. Your hand didn’t feel the same as his— you didn’t know how to pleasure yourself like he could. How he knew your body better than you did, was beyond you.
Truthfully, you didn’t want to try and get yourself off— you just wanted him to take care of you. Soothe the aches you felt within your body, places he had yet to touch. Your skin burned for him, and you were almost positive that no one else could put out the flames except for him.
It went beyond just his touch. He made you feel so safe— so protected in his hold. You trusted him with your life and didn’t think you’d ever find someone you felt more comfortable to be around. All his touches, all his strokes of your body were so soft— so gentle in the way he was slowly undoing you. It wasn’t like the guys you had tried to be with before, where their needs were always before yours.
No, Bucky didn’t even express his needs— didn’t even mention them. He put you before anything else, making sure you felt good without the discomfort of owing him. There was no catch— just his desire to make you feel incredibly good. It was as easy as breathing being with him. Although it had only happened once— you wanted there to be more “lessons.”
Your Dad Steve had gone out of town for a business trip, and he of course trusted you enough to leave you home alone. You were responsible and respected him and the house well. No need for a babysitter considering you were in your 20’s.
Little did your dad know— you had invited Bucky over. You may had gone a little overboard with your text message to him. You told him it was urgent, and of course Bucky had freaked out and was speeding over to the house.
That’s where you found yourself jumping up at the sound of fast knocking at the door. You held your hand over your heart and wandered to the door, opening it to reveal a slightly sweaty and disheveled Bucky.
“Everything alright?” He asked, furrowing his brows at the way your face was calm.
He had read the text right… right?
“Yeah I probably shouldn’t of worded the text like that— sorry!” You giggled, and immediately Bucky was relaxing.
He shook his head while giving you a tiny smirk.
“Got me worked up over nothing.” He chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair.
You opened the door wider and stepped aside.
“Wanna come in?” You offered.
He smiled and stepped forward into the house, passing by your small frame. He loved the way he towered over you, and the way it got you all flustered.
“Sure doll.” He whispered, walking further into the kitchen leaving you at the door.
His scent wafted into your face, filling your senses with his deep minty pine smell. It was so intoxicating, you felt dizzy with the deep breath in. You quickly closed the door— locking it before following him into the kitchen.
You weren’t surprised to find him rummaging through Steve’s alcohol, which was basically his as well. Your dad only ever drank when Bucky was around.
As he was pouring himself a glass, it gave you time to really get a good look at him. You found your mouth watering at the sight, biting your lip as your eyes traveled up and down his figure. The brown plaid jacket fit him well, making him look extra handsome. His stubble looked just as it had last time, very clean— evident that he took very good care of himself and his appearance. His jeans hugged him just right in every area— overall he just looked so good.
“It’s rude to stare honey.” His voice broke you out of your trance.
You felt your cheeks get hot from being caught staring, you hadn’t meant to— but you couldn’t help it either.
“Sorry it’s just… you look good.” You admitted.
Bucky gazed down at you from across the island. Tipping his glass back, letting the burn travel down his throat. He knew you were just as starving for him as he was for you— and he knew he shouldn’t be doing this with his friends daughter. But he had a hard couple of weeks without you.
He fucked his hand nearly every night, trying to imagine your sweet sounds— and him being the one pulling them from you.
He let his eyes wander over your form, taking in your short sleeping shorts— your thin tank that did little to hide your tits. He almost growled, the way you were taunting him— the way you were teasing him with the way your nipples poked through your tank. The way your ass peaked out from the bottom of your shorts.
“(Y/n), why did you invite me over?” He asked lowly, filling his glass back up while you shuffled closer to him around the island.
You shrugged and tried to play dumb.
“Didn’t wanna be alone.” You told him.
“You sure it’s not because of something else?” He hinted.
You held his gaze, trying your best to read him— but he was good at keeping a poker face. You scooted closer.
“Maybe…” You started, taking another step closer. “Maybe I need you to teach me something.”
He lowered his gaze to his glass, raising it to his lips to tip back— his throat burning deliciously. Could he really deny you— he was already so deep in this pit that was you.
“Oh is that right?” He growled.
You nodded and took another step closer, his form towering over you more the closer you got, it had you excited and squeezing your thighs together.
Bucky noticed.
“You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel that good.” You whispered, “I wanna feel it again.”
He clenched his jaw, forcing his arms to stay either resting on the island or at his sides.
“Then you should try what I showed you.” He told you, pushing the glass away and twisting the cap back on the bottle.
You shook your head, a small frown lining your face.
“Doesn’t feel the same… I like it when it’s you.” You admitted.
Bucky took a deep breath in, your scent filling his senses and it was so lethal— he almost felt high off of it. You looked so good below him, your mock innocent eyes staring up at him, your lip jutting out into a pout. You were killing his self control— if he had any left.
“My dad won’t know— it’s okay.” You added.
That fueled the fire, the mere mention of how forbidden this was only made him want you that much more— and he wondered what had twisted him to think like that. He should stop now— head home.
But instead, he stepped forward, pressing his body against yours. Self control was no more.
“What are you doing to me baby?” He whispered, letting his hands rest of your shoulders, running all the way down your arms.
You didn’t have time to prepare yourself before he was hoisting you up by your legs, placing you on top of the island. He situated himself in between your thighs, pulling you forcefully into his chest. Your barely clothed core pushing up against his bulge.
You let out a gasp, your arms looping around his neck instinctively. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding against his bulge, the jeans creating delicious friction to your aching clit.
He held his arms around your lower back, keeping you pressed tightly against him. He chuckled, his eyes hooded and dark watching you hump him like a cat in heat.
“Oh honey, you poor thing.” He cooed, cradling your jaw with one of his hands. “So desperate.”
You whined when his hands stop your movements, watching him step away from you. But you didn’t have long to complain when you saw him lower his body down— his head lining up with your crotch.
“Don’t worry baby— I’ll teach you something new.” He teased, wasting no time and pulling your shorts down, throwing them to the side.
He nearly moaned when he glanced back to find out you weren’t wearing any panties. Your core was exposed, puffy and dripping.
You felt hot under his stare, your core aching almost painfully as he just looked at it. You shifted your hips closer to him.
He glanced up to you with dark eyes, his pupils blown out with lust.
“So pretty sweetheart,” He snuck his hand closer, letting his thumb brush from your slit to your clit. “So wet for me.”
You jumped from his touch, your eyes nearly rolling back into your head when he continued circling his thumb around your clit.
"Ohhh... Buckyy..." You moaned breathlessly, your hips jutting up to push his fingers harder against you.
He yanked your legs up, forcing you to lean back with your legs up— exposing your core further. This new angle gave him a great view of your little puckered hole. His eyes darkened and he couldn’t help himself— so he leaned forward and gave your little hole a lick.
You gasped from the new feeling, never had been touched there— it was oddly pleasant, and the way he kept circling your bud while giving your hole kitten licks was heavenly.
He smiled in between licks, his stubble scratching the inside of your ass.
“Babydoll… no one ever touch you here?” He asked softly, rubbing his thumb back and fourth from your clit down to your slit, while he kept up his ministrations on your hole.
You shook your head, leaning back on your shaking arms. You could feel yourself clench over nothing, your core aching to be filled.
He gave your puckered hole a kiss before glancing up to you, a growl almost escaping at the pathetic, fucked out look you had on your face. He licked his lips as the layer of sweat coating your forehead.
“No one ever took the time to take care of you honey, but I’m going to— don’t you worry.” He promised, peppering kisses to your inner thighs while he circled your swollen bud.
You began to breathe heavily as his mouth got closer to your center, your heart beating in excitement.
“Just relax baby, gonna make you feel good.” He cooed.
With a nod from you, he was shoving his face into your cunt. Giving your pussy an open mouthed kiss, letting his tongue dart inside and feel around your walls— which had you crying out, instinctively trying to crawl away because it felt too good.
He used he free hand to press down on your stomach, forcing you to lay all the way down on the island. His strong arm kept you in place, leaving you no chance to run. Not that you wanted to.
“Gotta stay still babygirl.” He instructed.
You found it hard to stay still with his thumb rubbing faster of your clit, his tongue massaging your walls and slit so perfectly you felt dizzy. You had never had someone go down on you like this, and you wondered how you had gone this long without it— it felt too fucking good.
“Bucky— feels so good, please don’t stop!” You whined, your hips starting to grind against his face in attempt to chase your release quicker.
Bucky went feral at your whines, your pleas— it only spurred him on, starting to lick, kiss and suck at your cunt faster and harder.
He stopped his rubbing motions of your clit and snuck his hand down to your slit, lifting his mouth to insert two fingers. They slid in easily with how wet you were, and he could feel your walls clamping down on them. Had him growling at your whines.
“Oh… fuckkk…” You moaned out, gripping the island in a death grip, the coil tightening within you.
Bucky lowered his head back down and sucked hard onto your clit, watching your body jolt from the sensation.
He knew you were close.
You whimpered and couldn���t stop grinding your face into his face and onto his fingers— wishing them deeper.
He started moving his fingers in a come here motion and brushed against a spongey pad— causing your hips to jolt, your cries loud and echoing throughout the kitchen.
“There it is baby… want you to cum for me.” He cooed.
He kept sucking and rolling his tongue around your clit while brushing against your sweet spot repeatedly. The edges of your vision were hazy and dark, the coil nearly snapping.
“C’mon sweetheart— let go.” He whispered, licking up and down your clit quickly.
With one last stroke against your sweet spot, you were crying out, pathetic whines leaving your lips as your body twitched and jolted, no doubt having fallen off the island if he weren’t holding you down. Waves of ecstasy flowed within you, your entire body buzzing as he kept lazily stroking your walls, avoiding your sweet spot in order not to overstimulate you.
He peppered kisses to your pussy and inner thighs as you came down, every now and then hips twitching at every other kiss he’d place on your clit.
Your breathing was slowly coming back down, you stayed laying on the island— completely covered in sweat. You had a dumb weak smile on your face, your eyes fluttered shut from the intense pleasant buzz that filled your being. You almost felt like you were floating.
“You with me honey?” He joked, giving your sensitive bud one last kiss before raising up to his feet.
He gently pulled you up so you were sitting up now. He let out a tiny chuckle at your ducked out expression.
“(Y/n)?” He teased, tucking stray hairs behind your ear.
You nodded and leaned into his touch, closing your eyes in contentment.
“I’m perfect.” You whispered, looping your arms around his waist, burying your face into his chest.
His heart pulsed at the action, you looking so delicate and pure hugging him like a little monkey. The waves of pure bliss from your state were overwhelming, taking over all his senses— but it still couldn’t block out the guilt that came after.
“You’re a little cuddle bunny, aren’t ya?” He cooed, rubbing your back soothingly.
He didn’t hear a response, and if you did respond— he couldn’t hear it due to his mind getting lost in the what if’s. The guilt eating away at him.
He supposed he’d had fun until the moment came where he couldn’t anymore.
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strangersatellites · 2 years
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It had all started in Photography 101. 
All he had needed was one more elective added to his schedule for the fall semester to be considered a full-time student. It was Robin who had suggested photography.
Steve had never had that great of a memory to begin with, the numerous blows to the head from juvenile high school fights certainly doing him no favors. Sometimes the amount of time it took to jog Steve’s memory surpassed the time it would’ve taken to simply tell him the story as if he hadn’t been there himself. 
He was always able to grasp the memory eventually, but sometimes they were slippery in his mind. 
He and Robin had found that his memory was ten times better if he had something to look at. Sometimes that was a souvenir from a trip, sometimes it was a takeout menu with his order circled in red pen, sometimes it was a physical scar on his skin from some silly injury. But most of the time it was pictures. 
Steve took to taking photos of everything. His friends, his food, the landscape, a book with a pretty cover, anything he wanted to be able to remember.
The walls of his room grew to be covered with polaroids and prints, some staged, most not. Many blurry and out of focus, but in the moment just the same. 
So when Robin suggested Photography 101, Steve saw an opportunity to take something he did for his own benefit and turn it into something he really enjoyed, something he was good at. 
The semester was a breeze and Steve flourished under the attention of his professor. He was constantly drowning in compliments about the movement in his photos and his eye for composition. 
(Robin would tell him on several occasions that she had never seen him enjoy something this much.)
By the time the semester was coming to a close, he was left with one final project. The professor had been intentionally very vague in her description of it throughout the semester, so Steve was a little on edge. 
Sitting in the front row of the small classroom, he twirled the strap of his camera around his fingers while he daydreamed. The room slowly filled and the professor settled in behind her desk. 
About five minutes after class was supposed to have begun Steve noticed they were all still sitting in silence. Glancing at the professor he saw her brows furrow and a frustrated lilt to her lips as she looked at her watch.
What are we waiting for? 
She stood and dusted off her pants before clapping her hands together.
“Well,” she began, “I guess we can go ahead and get start–”
The door at the back of the room swung open and knocked against the wall with a resounding slam.
“Shit! Fuck! So sorry I’m late. Traffic was a bitch.”
Steve is so caught off guard by the man who just burst into the room that he barely even registers the words he’s saying. 
He’is tall and all lanky muscle, dark curls and jewelry, tattoos and the smell of smoke, chains and leather and everything Steve’s not. Everything nobody in this class is.
He’s even more caught off guard when his professor laughs and pulls the man into a tight hug. There are only five other students in this class, surely he’s not the only person confused.
He keeps an arm around her shoulders as she introduces him to the group.
“Guys, this is Eddie. He’s a family friend and he’s going to be your subject for your final project.”
Steve’s own eyebrows furrow as he tries to understand how this was the project she has been keeping under wraps. They’ve had plenty of portrait sessions this semester, with models and subjects of their choice alike.
The guy, Eddie, claps a hand to his chest in a dramatic show of faux humility. 
“Thank you for having me, Joyce. It's such an honor to be here.”
She smacks at his arm and carries on.
“So, Eddie is your subject and you have no parameters. The only requirement is that he is the inspiration for your shoot. This can look like a standard portrait session, this can be contemporary urban street photography, whatever you like. Eddie does not even have to be in the photo! He just has to be the inspiration for it.”
Steve's brain is already running a mile a minute, conceptualizing shots faster than he can keep up. 
Dingy bars, backseats of cars, details of his eclectic style.
But one idea sticks out from the rest. As Steve lifts his eyes to Eddie once more and meets his own twinkling with mirth and smirking back at him he makes his decision.
He’s going to take his mugshot.
*****
“I want to take your mugshot.”
They’re at the campus coffee shop. Joyce had scheduled a few hours for Eddie to meet with the other students during their class time so they could talk through their projects.
Eddie barks out a laugh. “What, man?”
Steve twirls his straw around his drink and tries not to bristle at the reaction.
“Look,” he starts, running a nervous hand through his hair, “I don’t really know where the idea originated but once I had it, it stuck. I just saw this vision of the shot in my head and it was sick, dude.”
Eddie leans back in the booth, one of his boots knocking into Steve’s foot under the table. He crosses his arms and tilts his head. 
“Thought this shoot was supposed to be inspired by moi,” he says, gesturing a hand towards himself. “You saying I look like I should be in jail?”
Steve groans and puts his head in his hands. “No. I already told you I don't know where i got the idea–”
But that’s a lie isn’t it. He knows exactly where he got the idea. It was somewhere between the chains dangling from Eddie’s jeans and the handcuff belt he was wearing the day they met.
He put his hands together on the table between them. “Okay. No, I’m not saying you look like a criminal, Eddie. I’m saying I think you want to look like one.”
Eddie blinks at him for a moment before his face breaks into a slow smirk. He huffs a quiet laugh and leans closer. “Guilty as charged, Stevie. Besides, I was arrested once actually.”
Steve gawks while Eddie laughs. He is unfairly attractive when his dimples pop and Steve is going to have such a hard time holding it together behind the camera. 
*****
Steve takes his shoots very seriously. Every detail has to be perfect, even the ones not relating to the subject of the photo.
So it is wildly convenient that his professor happens to be married to the chief of police back in Hawkins. 
One quick phone call from Joyce and Steve and Eddie were granted access to the booking room at the police station. You know, for the sake of realism. 
Steve’s setting up his tripod while Eddie takes a chalk marker to the placard and writes up his own booking ID, a long series of random numbers with E.M at the end. 
Steve would be lying if he said Eddie’s choice of clothing wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind. 
He’s wearing a ratty, old band t-shirt for some group Steve’s never heard of. There’s his usual black leather jacket and the silver chain around his neck. His ripped black jeans and fingers covered in rings and black nail polish. 
It's perfect for the shoot. But Steve’s sanity is struggling.
He gets the camera and the lighting set up just as Eddie steps into place in front of the height measurement wall. 
Steve puts his hands on his hips and gives instructions.
“Okay, so I know you’ve done this before–”
“Hey! It was one time!”
“So you know how this goes. We’ll do one forward and then one to each side.”
Eddie shakes out his hair and rolls his shoulders back. He holds the placard up in front of him and levels the camera with a dead-eyed stare.
He looks good. 
Steve is less than shocked that he looks even better on camera.
He lines up his shot. Click.
Eddie turns to his left. Steve gets a little distracted by the line of his jaw.
Click.
He turns to the right and of course only now does Steve notice his ear piercings. 
Steve takes a deep breath and focuses.
Click.
Before he can even look through his shots Eddie is dropping the placard on the desk.
He’s halfway out the door before he grabs the frame and leans back in. “One second pretty boy, I have an idea.”
He’s back before Steve snaps out of his stupor at the nickname. This time, he has a pair of handcuffs swinging from his index finger.
Steve snatches them out of his hand. “Where did you get these?”
Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs. “I know a guy.”
He rolls his eyes. 
He’s already picking up the placard and setting up some detail shots when Eddie grabs his wrist and stops him. He freezes for more than one reason.
“Hey, uh. Not to step on your toes or anything, but I actually have another idea.”
Steve is about to start on his spiel about ‘not messing up his flow’ when Eddie rubs his thumb over the inside of his wrist. Gentle and reassuring. 
“Do you trust me?”
Honestly Steve has no reason to trust him, he’s basically a stranger.
A pretty one. His brain supplies.
But he does. Trusts him enough to let him take Steve’s creative liberties and throw them out the window apparently.
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
Eddie’s smile is blinding. He turns Steve’s hand over and drops the handcuff key into it.
“Don’t lose this big boy,” he says as he snaps the cuffs around each of his own wrists.
Steve laughs, loud and shocked. He waggles his eyebrows at Eddie. 
“Well, now didn’t this take a turn.”
Eddie rolls his eyes this time and lifts his hands as much as he can.
“Don’t try to sexualize my creative prowess, Steve. I am a professional.”
He nearly trips on his way back to his place in front of the wall and Steve has to hide his laugh into a cough.
Steve’s back behind the camera, hands back on his hips when he asks, “Alright, what’s the plan?”
Eddie smiles and says, “You just shoot, Harrington. I’ll do the rest.”
He leans down to finalize his camera settings and line up his shot. When he finally looks through the viewfinder his jaw drops. Because while Eddie was clearly joking about being a professional, if Steve didn’t know any better, this shot would have him believing it.
Eddie’s got both of his pinky fingers tucked in the corners of his smile, tongue bitten between his teeth. His thumbs are raised along with his middle fingers, while he’s got his nose scrunched and one eye squeezed shut. The cuffs hang right under his chin and accentuate his silver jewelry in a way Steve never would have anticipated.
Click.
Click. 
Click.
The next is a close-up of the booking placard between his teeth.
His hands twisting to unlock his own cuffs.
He’s a natural, and Steve’s camera roll can attest to the fact.
It wouldn’t be until Steve was reviewing and editing the shots that he caught on. The booking ID on the placard looked long because it was. It was Eddie’s number.
*****
Steve got an A. 
He got an A, an endless stream of compliments from Joyce and a dorky hot boyfriend. 
The rest of the class went the route Steve expected them to.
Dingy bars, backseats of cars, details of his eclectic style.
But Steve’s mugshot series stood leagues above the rest.
Later in their lives, when one of their friends would see the photo in Steve’s wallet they would ask when Eddie got arrested and why.
It quickly became a game between the two.
He’s been arrested in high school for selling drugs (True.)
When he was twenty for public indecency.
At twenty-two for arson.
Thirty for contract killing. This one was followed up with the claim that he was in witsec and was now going to have to change his identity and flee the country.
But the real when and why Eddie got arrested is because when he was twenty-one Joyce told him there was a nice boy in her class that she thought he should meet.
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kikker-oma · 6 months
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@adrift-in-thyme TRIN YOU ARE AMAZING AND INCREDIBLE AND THIS FIC TORE MY HEART OUT AND STUFFED IT BACK INTO MY CHEST (in the absolute BEST way possible❤️❤️)
Please please please PLEASE give this a read, it made me acream
Warnings: blood, slit throat(after the cut)
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Also, here's a bonus from @skyloftian-nutcase done in exquisite restaurant crayon lol
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cantdealwiththisnow · 6 months
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Part 1 - Appreciation post for all the TFP universe Autobot mugshot cameos (known and unknown) in RID2015 3x25 (even if the context is that they've been OUSTED against their will)
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