#followed by the quick realization that you are not safe at all

[ginghamhell]

zenya the annoying blonde man *reads the words "im a rotting corpse thanks to this worthless fucked up body"* zenya the man who is Kinda me a little

[whateveriwant]

I know you already did the 141 boys when their wife gives birth (which was fantastic btw) but maybe if they missed the birth because of a mission or whatever else your brilliant mind can think of!

Don't give me compliments because then I'll follow you home like a cat and you'll never get rid of me 😖

Price

(This goes for all the men, really) but he's absolutely gutted to not be with you as you're giving birth

Honestly, if he had the choice, he would've rather lobbed off his own arm than miss such a momentous occasion in both your lives

It’s nothing less than the literal fate of the world that's keeping him from you, and he makes sure to reiterate that over and over again

The only thing that gives Price a bit of peace of mind when leaving you at a time like this is knowing you have a strong support system to help you through it

And boy oh boy does he put those friends and family members to use by having them constantly text him with every update imaginable

What time your water breaks, how far apart your contractions are, how much you've dilated, so on and so on. He wants to know it all

While he has to remain focused during the bulk of the mission, when he's able to, he's whipping out his phone to scroll through the literal hundreds of messages that await him

The updates are so plentiful and detailed that if he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend like he was right there beside you all along

And once he gets to the pictures of you holding your little one for the first time, well… he's not afraid to admit that he sheds a manly tear or two at the sight

Soap

He kicked up quite the storm at work when he realized he was going to be missing the birth of his child

He did everything in his power to try to get out of the mission – to try to get back to you – but, ultimately, he had no other choice than to go

But he's not just going to go gently into the night. No, he has a few tricks up his sleeve to make it as if he's still there with you in some capacity

Like Price, Soap takes comfort in leaving you with a huge support system to help while he's away

And also similarly, he's recruiting your loved ones (more so their phones) into letting him video chat with you whenever he gets the opportunity

(Does that mean he snuck his unauthorized smartphone into the middle of a battlefield? …. Yes. Yes, he did. .……....… Don't tell Price)

You'll be in the midst of a call with him and a bullet will fly right by his head and embed itself in the wall behind him

Of course, this has you incredibly concerned, worrying over how you're distracting him when he should be focused on his mission

But he assures you there's no need to fret, dear. He's perfectly safe and everything’s completely fine

(Oh, and just disregard that sound in the background, hun. No, it wasn't a bomb. Heavens, no! It was a… a… piano falling out a window)

Gaz

Even when he's away on mission during normal circumstances, he's calling home all the time to check in with you

But given your current state, now he's checking in twice as much as he usually does

Expect a minimum of three calls a day just to ensure things are still all hunky dory on your end

It's during one of these calls that your water breaks, and as you fly into a state of panic, forgetting everything you're supposed to do, Gaz has to calmly walk you through the steps of what you'd planned

He's able to talk you down and make sure you get yourself to the hospital in one piece, but then after that call, weirdly, you don't hear from him again

It's not until several hours later when you've already delivered your child that you're awoken by the feeling of someone beside your bed

You look to see who it is and it's none other than Gaz himself – still dressed in his full gear, covered in all sorts of dirt and grime, a hushed apology pouring from his mouth

He's so sorry he couldn't get there quick enough, beautiful. He left as soon as he could once he'd pulled a few strings with Price

But you don't even care about the excuse because you're quickly enveloping him in a hug. With tears in your eyes, you assure him it's alright. He's here now, and that's all that matters to you

Ghost

When he was informed he was being shipped off to a remote location less than a month before your due date, he was livid

No phone, no radio, no communication of any kind with the outside world and he was supposed to be okay with that? He very much wasn't

The higher-ups had to really hammer home the whole “safety of the world” thing to convince Ghost to go, and even when he did, he did so grudgingly

He finds that as he sits in this shoddy shack halfway across the planet from you, all he can do is keep a mental tally of everything he’s missing

Going with you to your final check ups, helping you pack your hospital bag, holding your hand as you begin to push, etc. etc. etc.

But what about things he might not know about? What if something's gone wrong while he's been away?

He can't let himself think on it too much because he'll end up putting his fist through the drywall, and he needs at least one good hand to hold his child with when he meets them for the first time

Seven weeks, four days, and nine hours after he shipped out, Ghost is on a plane back home

He doesn't stop to talk to anyone when he touches down at base (not even to report to his superiors). He just gets into his car and books it, not letting off the gas until he's parked outside your home again

And when he finally reaches the front door, an unexpected tremor passing through him as he grabs for the handle, he closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath, and walks inside, beginning the next chapter of his life

[gogobootz1]

Dog Day Afternoon

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: New to town but oh-so sought after, a few stumbles might just lead you to love

Word Count: 3k

Dearest Gentle Reader,

Today, I write with news from the North. The reclusive Duke of Devonshire has come to London. It seems that after the death of his younger brother some time back, he is determined to find his eldest daughter, the new heir, a husband. The lady is supposedly very beautiful and will no doubt consume all of the attention of eligible young bachelors. I only bid good luck to her competition, as they will surely need it.

The fluffy tails of your two best friends could not keep still. The black Newfoundlands you had trained from puppyhood loved carriage rides, mostly because they loved meeting the horses before and after. You were sure they'd grow even more excited when you arrived at the park.

As the carriage slowed, you smiled, eager to get them some exercise. Your maid stepped out first, and you momentarily handed her both dogs' leads. Accepting a hand down from a footman, you turned to take them back when they broke free of her grasp entirely. Worse yet, they took off at a run.

You called after them, then whistled, but they were determined. Usually, they didn't give you any trouble with recall. Reaching for the dog whistle you kept on your person, you found nothing.

Without a second thought, you took off after them.

"My Lady!" Your maid called from behind you, panicked. You paid her little heed, anxious to have your babies back safe.

Park patrons stood as your dogs, followed by yourself, ran past. They gawked openly at the strange scene put on by an unknown young lady.

You were relieved when they slowed, but it didn't take long for them to sprint off again. They rounded a corner, quick as lighting. You kept after them, unable to see the obstacle around the bend.

Crashing right into someone's back, the two of you stumbled. The poor gentleman in front of you took the brunt of the impact, but you didn't have time to stay and make a formal apology. Staggering a bit, you resumed your chase.

"Sorry!" You yelled over your shoulder.

"Wait! Miss," the man called after you but gave up as you ran further away.

When your dogs ran off the path and into a clearing where people were picnicking, you grew really worried. Chasing after them on a trail was one thing, but ruining the outings of fellow nobility would be an altogether worse embarrassment.

You stopped in your tracks when you realized who the boys were scampering up to: your little sister. Abigail sat on a blanket with a girl who looked to be about her age. In her mouth was the dog whistle. You tended only to use that whistle when you took them out in the woods, and you'd trained them to run back to you at the sound of it. It gave you peace of mind knowing that you could call them back at any time if they went too far off in the forest or on one of your walks.

Abigail seemed pleased to see the two of them. A surprised grin graced her face as she patted them. They were even happier to see her, showering her in kisses. "Hoo-y? Moo? What are you doing here?" She giggled.

Her laughter stopped when she saw you stalking over. Thoroughly out of breath, you crossed your arms when you reached them. The three of them looked guiltily up at you. With a snap, your dogs came to sit on either side of you. Although your countenance was thoroughly enraged, scratching behind both dogs' ears decreased your intimidation factor.

"Why on Earth did you steal that?" You nodded toward your whistle.

"I think it makes for a chic necklace," Abigail said defensively. You stuck a hand out, and she reluctantly placed the whistle she'd put on a chain in it.

"And why on Earth were you using it?" You asked expectantly.

She held her hands up in surrender, "Miss Hyacinth was skeptical that the whistle could not be heard with human ears. I was simply showing her how it worked." Abigail was clever- you'd give her that. You could hardly scold her in front of her companion, and you wouldn't dream of scolding the other young girl for something so clearly not her fault. Using her as a human shield was a cowardly tactic by your sister, however. "And I thought you weren't arriving until later!"

"They were antsy. I figured I could abandon the harp in favor of allowing them some exercise," you explained, then glared at her, "This was not the type of exercise I had in mind."

"But Hoo-y and Moo love running free," she pouted at you.

"They are not allowed to run free in public spaces where I must chase after them!" You snapped at her. Crouching to get closer, you reached into your purse and gave both dogs a scrap of jerky. "Huginn and Muninn are both well-behaved gentlemen, and you may have tarnished their good names by causing this wild romp!"

"Huginn and Muninn? Does that make you Odin?" A deep voice called from behind you. You rose and turned to see a tall, handsome gentleman with dark hair.

His question took you by surprise. Most people did not understand their names. You blinked for a second before collecting yourself, "No." It was hardly a smart reply, but it was the most you could manage after chasing your dogs a few hundred meters. You shook your head a little, vaguely embarrassed by your answer, before turning back to the girls.

"Would you please excuse Lady Abigail, Miss Hyacinth?" The bright young lady nodded at you with a pleasant smile before you even finished speaking, "The least she can do after causing such trouble is help me walk the dogs." You directed the last part toward your sister, who reluctantly stood. Taking one of the leads from your hand, she bid goodbye to her companion before walking off. You nodded at the young lady and the handsome stranger before following after her.

Benedict watched you walk away from his sister's picnic spot, only slightly removed from the rest of the family's. He collapsed down next to Hyacinth and stole a grape from her plate, "Who was that?"

"My new friend, Abigail," she replied, smacking his wrist. He ate the grape anyway.

"And the older one?"

"Her sister," Hyacinth looked at him skeptically, "why do you ask?"

Benedict thought of how you'd practically pushed him to the ground in the middle of the walkway, then ran from the scene. "No reason," he shrugged.

——————————————

The first ball you'd be attending was later that evening, and you were incredibly nervous. Sat on the floor of the library, you brushed through Muninn's coat in an attempt to calm your nerves. Waiting for your father to finish changing was making you even more anxious, the dread just building up in your body.

"Why are you on the floor?" His voice finally came from the doorway.

"His coat needed brushing," you shrugged innocently. The Duke waved at you to come join him, and you stood, brushing some fur off yourself. Muninn stood, too, and closely followed as you joined your father.

"You're only lucky he didn't slobber on you," your father shook his head at you fondly, offering his arm.

Taking it, you made one last bid to skip the event, "Remind me why we are attending this?"

"A future Duchess needs a husband," he said simply.

"Does she really?" You asked wryly.

"No," your father answered seriously, causing you to stop. "Well, only if she should like a Duke or Duchess of her blood to follow in her footsteps," he tugged on your arm to keep you walking.

That only made you feel worse. While before you felt nervous, guilt was now in the mix. What if that didn't happen?

"If you never marry, I will not love you any less," he revealed. "I only ask that you try," your father asserted, "but if there is nary a man up to snuff, I would have you die a spinster." You laughed at that, feeling some pressure relieved. He joked with you for the duration of the carriage ride and up until you were announced at the ball.

"Now presenting; His Grace Daniel, Duke of Devonshire, and his daughter Lady-"

The entire company of the room turned to watch the two of you descend the stairs.

"What? Is there something on my face?" Your father whispered to you jokingly.

"Oh, only that awful mustache," you whispered back playfully. You caught the corner of his lip twitching as he tried not to laugh at the jab at his expense.

A few more seconds of staring had you whispering to him again, "I see now why you never leave the house." That earned a huff of a laugh from him.

"Let us thank our host, then visit the refreshments," he relayed the plan.

"Excellent idea," you replied quietly as he dragged you toward a finely dressed older woman.

"Lady Danbury," your father nodded at her in greeting.

"Lovely to see you again, Your Grace. It's been quite some time," she smiled at him knowingly.

"Indeed it has," he laughed, "may I present my daughter?" You smiled then, giving her a polite nod as well.

"My, how you've grown, my lady. The last time I saw you, you were far shorter than me," she chuckled, and you laughed politely with her. Unfortunately, you had no memory of that meeting. It must have been a long time ago, and she must have visited your home at Chatsworth House.

It was only a few more moments of small talk before your father excused the two of you, under the guise of not impeding her from talking to other guests.

He fixed you both a glass of lemonade at the refreshments table before he was pulled away. As much as he hated socializing, people loved him. He sent you an apologetic glance as he left. You only shook your head at him, smiling.

You took a brief glance around the room, noticing a few debutantes conversing near you. You sent them a smile, but they sneered in reply and closed ranks. Stunned at their response, you didn't quite know what to do.

"They can be rather mean," you turned to find a young red-headed woman beside you. "Not to mention jealous," she said helpfully.

"Jealous?" You were confused. They hadn't even met you. "Of me?"

"Oh, yes," she laughed a bit. "Haven't you read Lady Whistledown?"

You were embarrassed to have no idea of what she spoke, "I haven't met her. Is she in attendance?" That got an even greater laugh from your companion.

"Lady Whistledown is a gossip columnist and a rather popular one at that," she informed you, and you felt foolish for your last comment. "She wrote about you in her latest issue."

"Really?" You were stunned, as you'd only recently arrived in London.

"She predicted you'd steal the attentions of every available gentleman away from your fellow debutants," she nodded.

"No wonder they hate me," you sighed, sorry to have made a bad impression on the debutants before making their acquaintance. "Oh, I'm sorry, I still haven't introduced myself!" You were eager to make at least one good first impression.

"I'm Penelope Featherington," she said with a smile.

"I must admit, Miss Featherington," you shook your head, "I think Lady Whistledown's prediction will prove incorrect." She tilted her head and gestured for you to go on, "I've not been approached by a single gentleman."

Penelope took a quick look around the room, accidentally meeting a few pairs of eyes. Plenty of people had already been looking in your direction. She smiled a bit at your obliviousness, "I think perhaps they're just intimidated."

"Oh no," your eyes widened, "have I done something wrong?"

"Not at all," she assured you, "I think it's just... no one wants to take the first shot at a great stag and miss."

"I'm not sure I like being prey in this metaphor," you deadpanned, causing her to laugh once again.

It seemed one young gentleman mustered the courage to be the first to approach, and he really was young. "Good evening, ladies," he greeted you both, then offered you his hand, "would you care to dance?"

You placed your hand lightly in his but sent Penelope a look as he led you off. She giggled as you went. From there, you were off to the races. Dance after dance, gentleman after gentleman, you were exhausted.

"Please excuse me, sir, I'm feeling rather parched," you did not even recall this one's name.

"Oh no, please, my lady, I shall fetch a beverage for you," he nodded, "stay right there! Don't move!" He kept eye contact with you as he walked backward a few paces. You couldn't help but walk backward away from him, and you continued to do so even after he'd scurried off.

In fact, you retreated so far back that you retreated right into someone else's back. You both turned.

“You rather love bumping into me,” the gentleman you’d seen earlier said.

“Excuse me?” You certainly hadn’t seen him before this morning, so you had no idea what he meant by that smart comment. Your offense at his statement outweighed the sway of his good looks, unlike earlier.

“This makes twice,” he insisted, “once chasing after your ravens and once just now.”

It took you a second to catch up, “It was you I knocked over in the park earlier?!” Embarrassment rolled over you like a wave. “Oh God,” this was awful, “I am so incredibly sorry. Truly, I am mortified. And I would have apologized earlier, I-“

He only laughed a bit, “It’s quite alright. I got the sense you were in a rush.” His teasing tone brought a smile to your face.

“They’re usually so well-behaved,” you assured him, “I’m afraid my sister was behind the debacle.”

“Oh, yes, she was sitting with Hyacinth, was she not?”

“You know Miss Hyacinth?”

The gentleman grinned and bowed, “Benedict Bridgerton, her brother.”

“Very nice to meet you,” you smiled, “officially.”

“I’m not sure I caught your name,” right as he asked, you heard it being called.

“My lady?” You whipped around, and spotted the gentleman you’d abandoned searching for you. Wincing, you scuttled toward the closest pillar and ducked behind it. Benedict stayed put, but watched you run off with great amusement. After a moment, he chose to follow you.

“Are you hiding?” He teasingly asked.

You peered around the pillar, hoping the man had walked away. When you saw he hadn’t, you ducked away again, “yes!”

Benedict blinked at you, smiling, “Why?”

“My feet hurt,” you confessed, “I have danced every dance. I haven’t sat down in hours. Frankly, I’m surprised so many are interested after my jaunt through the park.”

“Perhaps they were impressed by your display of athleticism,” a crooked grin crossed his face. You leveled him with a look.

“There you are, my lady,” you jolted at the foreign voice, and Benedict had to clap a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. “I could not find you, so I’m afraid I drank your lemonade as well,” you could see Benedict’s shoulders shake with laughter, “Are you ready for our next dance?”

A look of pure horror must have crossed your face, because Benedict finally intervened, “I’m afraid she’s promised the next dance to me.” He pulled a pencil from a pocket in his jacket and outstretched one hand to you. You held out the arm your dance card was attached to, “In fact, I’ve very generously been granted all her remaining dances.” He winked at you as he filled in the four remaining spots. You fought off a grin.

“I see,” the man you interrupted you said sourly. He turned on his heel and marched away. Neither you nor Benedict could stop your laughter at his reaction.

“It is not my intention to further burden your feet,” he assured you after a moment, “I only hoped to dissuade him.”

“You did a fine job,” you grinned at him, “you have my gratitude.”

“I think I rather scandalized him,” Benedict chuckled, and you shook your head.

“It seems rather easy to scandalize this lot,” you said.

“Well, you’re right about that,” he nodded.

You sighed, “I think they’re all so concerned with presenting themselves as proper and important they forget to consider anyone else. Not one man I danced with asked me about myself.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Benedict shook his head, “I hope the rest of your evening is more relaxing.”

“Thank you,” you nodded at him, “at the very least, I know my dogs will listen to me when I return to them.”

Benedict laughed at that and slightly bowed towards you again, “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, my lady. I hope to bump into you again soon.”

Your eyes widened, “Maybe not bump.”

“Goodnight,” he smiled at you and nodded before leaving you free to go find somewhere to sit.

Soon enough, you father found you relaxing on a chaise lounge in a nearby study. He only shook his head, and offered you his arm to depart.

——————————————

The next morning brought with it house calls. You’d been hoping to spend a quiet morning working on a new piece for the harp, as you’d forgone practice the day before. But, much to your chagrin, you were forced to dress and be presentable within only ten minutes of your waking.

It didn’t take long for the sitting room to be bombarded with interested parties, though none were interested enough to truly speak with you. Each brought with him a new bouquet of flowers, and you soon grew worried you’d start sneezing uncontrollably. Eventually, you became so overwhelmed that you bribed poor Abigail to keep them occupied while you disappeared.

The only question she had for you was if you cared what she did to them. You’d given her free rein. With one look at her wicked grin, you fled the room.

Quickly turning the corner to another hallway, you quite nearly crashed into someone.

“That was almost three,” Benedict joked with you.

“Almost,” you highlighted, “but only a close call.”

“True,” he nodded.

"What brings you here?"

Benedict smiled, "I had hoped to call on you. Have I caught you at a bad time?"

"Not at all," you shook your head jovially.

"Excellent! I brought a gift," he produced a brown paper bag. You were slightly confused but glad for something other than flowers.

"Thank you," you reached for it, but he pulled it back.

"Not for you," he shook his head. You blinked back at him, wide-eyed. "Unless you have a proclivity for raw steak." Benedict laughed at the shock on your face, "I thought Huginn and Muninn might enjoy a treat."

A surprised smile eased onto your face. Your eyes sparkled as you looked at him, "I'm sure they'll appreciate it."

"Do you think they might also appreciate a walk in the park?" He asked, "A chance at redemption?"

"I think they'd like that," you grinned widely as Benedict smiled and offered you his arm.

---------------------------------------------------------

He didn't ask a single question! And he was wearing these- FUGLY jeans

Lol I've been toying with this idea since S3 part 1 came out, hope you liked it! I let her live in 2005 Mr. Darcy's luxurious mansion so you're welcome

(sorry for obscure norse mythology references)

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Safe and Sound - Jacaerys Velaryon

A/N: Hi, hi! The hotd brain rot is REAL. All I can think about is this beautiful prince above. I'm working on a longer story for him, but in the meantime, enjoy is blurb. This was jointly inspired by a genuine bad dream I had (the brain rot!!), and the Taylor Swift song that was playing when I was writing this at work. Hope you enjoy!

TS Prompt #7: Safe and Sound

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader Word Count: 1.3k Synopsis: Jace comforts the reader after they wake up from a terrible nightmare.

Warning: This does not follow the canon, but I do base the nightmare off of real events that have yet to happen in the show. Do not read if you don't want spoilers.

Sweat drenches your brow. Swords clash, arrows whistle through the air, and dragon fire paints the sky orange.

Your heart thuds as you spin around amid the chaos, searching for a green dragon or for a head of dark, curly hair. For any trace of Jace.

An ear-splitting scream rattles the sky, and before you can make sense of what you are seeing, Vermax's body crashes into the water, sending up a raucous wave.

Panic flows through your body. Searching, searching, searching. You need to see any sign that he made it, that he is alive. The water is riotous, making it impossible to figure out where he landed.

You nearly fall to your knees in relief when you see him crawl up onto floating wreckage, injured badly, but still breathing. You know you need to get to him, need to do whatever it takes to get him out of enemy-infested water.

As you move towards the coast, you have no plan in mind. Out of the corner of your eye, you see an approaching ship, making its way towards Jace. You run, wanting to scream his name, but also not wanting to give away his location.

You reach the shoreline and the water laps at your feet. Jace spots you the moment the approaching ship spots him.

You know he won't be able to get to the shore in time. You wade into the water, watching as he struggles to swim towards you. He's too far away, too weak, and you're not strong enough to pull him back.

The sound of a crossbow trigger pierces through the crash of waves. Jace's eyes widen - looking into yours - as the arrow speeds towards his chest.

"Jace!" you scream.

You tear out of your dream in a cold sweat, waking to your dark bedroom.

Jace wakes when you scream, crying out his name. His eyes adjust too slowly to the darkness, so he grabs for you blindly. He needs to know you're alright, needs to feel your warmth, your pulse. It thunders beneath his thumb as his hand wraps around your wrist.

His eyes finally adjust and he sees you sitting up in bed, your night gown wet with sweat.

"What is it?" he asks, sitting up next to you. "What happened?" He does a quick scan of the room, confirming his first guess. The room is unchanged from the evening before. There is no danger within its walls, just within your head.

You've had another nightmare.

He brushes the hair off your forehead as you put a hand to your pounding heart, clearly coming to the same realization. Jace leans closer and kisses your shoulder gently.

"It was just a dream," he says lowly, his lips still pressed to your skin. You take deep breaths as you try to relax. You have yet to look at him.

"Y/N," he says, "It was just a dream." He tugs on your arm and finally, you look at him. Even in the dark room, he can tell your skin has paled.

"It didn't feel like just a dream," you say. He frowns and rubs soft circles on your back.

This has become your miserable routine. You wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, and he sits next to you, feeling useless to change anything.

"Tell me about it," he says quietly.

"It's the same dream I always have," you say, looking at him sadly, trembling. He pulls you into his arms, holding your shaking hands in his. His gaze focuses on the Valyrian steel ring he put on your finger a year ago. The promises he made to you that day flash in his mind.

"The Battle of the Gullet," he says in response.

"Yes."

"I regret ever telling you about that day," he says with a shake of his head. The movement jostles his hair, and you tuck it behind his ear gently, your hand linger on his face. "I'm fine, Y/N."

"I watched you die."

"What do you see now?" he asks, taking the hand cupping his cheek, pressing a loving kiss to the palm. He moves it down to his bare chest, to the beating heart beneath his warm skin. "I am alive and well."

You continue to frown at him, but your hand presses to his chest. You take a few more deep breaths.

"I'm sorry," you say, tears forming in your eyes as you look up at him. He shakes his head, his heart hurting that you would ever think that your pain was an inconvenience to him.

"Hey," he says, pulling you into his chest, your tears falling onto his skin. "You don't ever have to be sorry."

"I know that we are safe now. That war is over. But I am still so scared," you say, and on the last word your voice breaks. Jace holds you tighter.

"I know. I am, too, sometimes."

"Really?"

"Really," he says, "You think I don't have nightmares about that day? Or any from the past year."

"You don't ever tell me about them," you say, pulling away to look him in the eye.

"That's because I don't want to worry you," he says, smiling shyly, playing with your hands. "There are memories I have that I wouldn't dream of sharing with you, that I don't want you to carry."

"That doesn't seem fair," you say, "You get to worry about me but I don't get to worry about you?"

"It's hard," he says, his eyes still focused on your hands. "Sometimes I still see the dying dragons. Still remember when I'd look outside and see everything on fire. Still see the war raging."

"But you don't seem like any of it haunts you," you say, leaning in so he'll look at you. He gives you a soft smile, his thumb tracing circles on your hand.

"Guess I've gotten good at hiding it."

"Tell me how," you say quietly. He hates that he can hear the longing in your voice. He notices the dark circles under your eyes. How many nights in a row have you woken from your sleep like this?

"I just try to remember everything good that I still have. Vermax is alive. My mother is alive. You are alive," he says. "Safe and sound."

"Safe and sound," you say disbelievingly.

"You are, I swear it. I won't let anything happen to you," he says. "Ever again."

"I know," you say, touching his cheek softly. "I love you."

"I love you," he says. He draws you in close and kisses your lips slowly, his movements languid, like he's got all the time in the world. He hopes you feel it. Hopes you realize that this is what the rest of your existence together looks like. No wars, no death, just the pair of you in this room, reminding each other what you fought for.

"Let's get some sleep," he says as he lays the two of you down. He adjusts the sheets around you, keeping you close to his body. You run a hand over his chest, humming softly.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to," you say.

"Just close your eyes," he says, kissing your forehead, feeling the pull of sleep wash over him. "You're alright, Y/N. No one can hurt you or I now."

"Promise?" you ask.

"I do."

"You'll never leave me here alone," you say. It's not a question.

"I'll never let you go," he says, tucking you in tighter. "You and I are safe and sound."

"Safe and sound," you mumble. Jace waits a few moments for your breathing to fall into a slow rhythm. When he knows you're asleep he lets himself close his eyes. He vows to himself that he'll do whatever it takes to make sure you never feel so scared again. He vows that you'll never feel ashamed to talk to him when you do. And he vows to have more moments like this, with you asleep on his chest, his hand in your hair, and less like the one he jerked out of sleep to.

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Among Strangers | Bang Chan

•Synopsis: A handsome stranger takes it upon himself to take care of you in a crowded subway as you try to evade a man that had been following you after a night of drinking.

•Pairing: au Bang Chan x Female Reader

•Content Includes: smut, stalking, public unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, crowded area, sex with a stranger, biting, possessive chan, brief mentions of bondage and claustrophobia with a surprise ending. (I think that's everything)

an: This was first posted on my Wattpad but it was pretty ass and didn't do well so I fixed it up a little bit (a lot... Like it was so bad lol) and figured maybe it would be better appreciated here.

Part II

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After a chill hangout at the bar with some friends from work, you all decide to head home. It's been a chill night with not too much drinking. Since you live close by, walking home seems like a good idea for some fresh air. But as you split from the group, you realize you're not alone. You start to get this eerie feeling like you're being followed. Looking over your shoulder you see a hooded figure and the hair on the back of your neck stands straight up. At every turn there he is, shadowing your every move, sending shivers down your spine.

Nervous about the idea of him following you home, you hop onto the subway thinking you could hide among a sea of people. With the size of the crowd there's no way he could find you. You're confident it'll work as you weave your way through the crowd, tripping over your own feet in a rush to lose him. You aim for the door at the end of the car on the other side just to create some distance between you and him. You steal a glance over your shoulder, heart pounding, checking if the man is still behind you. But in a rush, you accidentally step on someone's foot, sending a jolt of embarrassment through you.

“Oh my god!” You exclaim, cheeks reddening. “I'm so sorry.”

When your eyes meet the stranger in front of you, you're met with kind gentle brown eyes belonging to a beautiful man with dimples and perfectly styled hair buzzed slightly on the sides.

“No worries.” He smiles sweetly showing off his perfect dimples while his velvety Australian accent engulfs you and calms down some of the panic in your chest.

Looking over your shoulder again, you catch sight of the man coming into your view. His gaze meets yours, and a smirk plays on his lips before he casually looks away. Panic surges again, your moment of peace gone, sending your heart into overdrive and your eyes to widen in alarm. The handsome stranger in front of you notices your reaction and follows your line of sight to the man in the black hoodie, mirroring your concern.

"Hey, you okay? That guy giving you trouble?" His voice cuts through the chatter of the people around you. His voice, laced with a hint of concern and tinged with something darker, making you snap your attention back to him.

The dim subway lights overhead cast shadows across his young face, highlighting his handsome features more rather than diluting them. You feel a knot tightening in your stomach realizing just how worried for you he is. He glares at the creep and the muscle in his jaw ticks once.

“He’s been following me since I left the bar. I was too afraid to go home so I tried to make a detour to shake him off but he's fucking relentless.” you explain in a quiet hush.

The creep looks over at you again as if to make sure you're still in his eyesight and looks away quickly to not draw attention to his shady acts.

“Maybe he'll back off if he thinks we're together? He looked away pretty quick when he saw me. I'll stay with you for however long you need. Just to be sure that you're safe.” The stranger beside you says sweetly.

You felt fucking lucky to have run into someone willing to help you, to keep you safe. You could've ended up locked in some damp dark basement if not for this man you thought to yourself. You can already feel the mild tipsiness from the alcohol wearing off and you feel more alert and aware of your surroundings.

“Thank you so so much.” You reply and the man holds his hand out for you.

“I'm Chris.” He gives you an award winning smile that lights up his whole face and yours.

You mirror his smile and take his hand. One shake and you gasp at the sudden static shock that you feel spread throughout your whole body rather than just your fingertips. His hand is soft and warm and your body suddenly feels hot all over as if you drank a lot more than you really did.

“Y/N.” You introduce yourself timidly and he gives a small nod of his head.

The train rattles to a stop and opens the doors behind you and Chris, letting on more people eager to get home after work. It becomes increasingly crowded and you're forced even closer to Chris. So much closer that you have to take a couple of steps back in an attempt to have some space, only for your back to hit the glass window of the other doors. Another stop and more people push in, bringing the creep closer to you and forcing Chris's chest to push into yours. He apologizes, placing gentle hands on my arms.

“If you get uncomfortable let me know. I'll try and make space.” He tells you, placing a hand above your head as the train rumbles along.

“Y-yeah okay.” You mutter, feeling the hard muscles underneath the white button up shirt he's wearing.

With the alcohol completely gone from your system now, you realize that the situation you're in is beyond embarrassing. Your breasts are rubbing against his chest with every rock and shake of the train in an almost lewd way. Granted you are thankful that he's keeping you away from being pressed up against some weirdo or worse the guy following you but still, It's awkward. There's no way he can't feel your heart beating so rapidly. The train makes a sudden bump and your bodies are pushed together even more.

“Sorry.” You whisper when your hands instinctively go around his middle. He chuckles and you feel it vibrate through your chest, causing the butterflies in your stomach to flutter awake.

“It's okay y/n. You give great hugs.” He says, the butterflies go mad and your face grows warm.

He's so sweet and so good looking there's no way he was flirting with me just now. No way, he's just a really sweet guy. Yeah… he's just being nice.

As the train continues to go on you feel eyes on you, burning a hole straight into your skull. Looking around Chris's muscular frame you see the creep, staring, lewdly licking his lips and undressing you with his eyes, no doubt. You squirm to try and get out of eye sight but Chris's strong hand holds you still.

“What's wrong?” He whispers. His voice makes you shiver against him and his fingers tighten on your arms briefly.

“That creep is staring at me.” It makes you feel disgusted. Your skin crawls the way his eyes slide over your face.

Chris curses under his breath and pauses. “I'll push up to give you enough space to turn around so he can't see your face. Maybe once these doors open we can quickly get off and lose him then.”

You nod at his idea and he pushes on the door, putting an inch between you two. It's not a lot of space to move but you try your best, turning around facing away from Chris and the creep. Now, at least like this, your breasts aren't crushed into him. Only now, your ass is pressing against his front. From one awkward situation to another…. This is what I get for going out after work on a Wednesday. You think to yourself. I should've gone straight home or at least changed.

The skirt you decided to wear to the office today is now hitched up just barely covering your ass. If you can just keep still maybe he won't notice and the situation doesn't get any more embarrassing than it is.

“So uh what do you do for work y/n?” Chris asks and clears his throat. You can feel every word against your back.

“Uh, I work at CBO. I'm an editor over there.” You feel him nod behind you slowly.

“I heard they're supposed to get a new CEO. Some big shot is what the news is saying.” He responds but you shrug. You haven't heard much about the new CEO except for that he's the son of the previous CEO as well as the new owner now that his father is retiring.

“I'm sure he'll be a great boss. I actually haven't met him yet. I don't even know what he looks like” You utter softly sounding uncertain. Would he be a great boss? Would he take care of you? Who knows he could change everything with just one hand.

══════════════•✦•✦•══════════════

The train enters a tunnel and you watch the lights outside in the darkness flick and zip past in a blur before noticing Chris's reflection. His eyes are on you, studying your face in the glass of the door. Your eyes meet in the all the air gets sucked out of your lungs like a sudden punch to the gut. His gaze is smoldering, far too hot to be on the receiving end of such intensity. No one says a word although his lips slowly form a sexy coquettish smile.

“Do you need me to stay with you when we get off while you call your boyfriend?.” He whispers.

You shake your head no, eyes still on his reflection. “Don't have one of those but I can call a friend to pick me up.”

As you're about to open your mouth again to thank him for the hundredth time, the train comes to a screeching stop and the lights in the car go out. Men and women grumble and some even scream. The force causes Chris to slam into you and your skirt bunches up further about midway up your ass. In a panic you tell him and he curses under his breath.

“I'll try to fix it but I have to touch you, y/n. Is that okay?” Him asking for consent to touch you makes him that much more attractive.

“Yes, please.” You say, just as a voice is heard over the speaker.

“Passengers, please be patient there seems to be some debris on the tracks that is blocking our route. They're already taking care to remove it. We'll be moving on shortly.” The voice is replaced with calming elevator music playing loudly.

That's a smart way to keep everyone calm so that no one panics. Only one panicking right now however is you. The feel of Chris's fingertips against your bare thighs is driving you insane. His touch is hot but you shiver like his fingers are made of ice. Why is it turning me on so much when he's just trying to fix my skirt?. The move is too slow to be legal that's why. His movements feel so sensual.

“Sorry, I'm trying not to draw attention.” He explains as if he can hear your thoughts.

Shit you want to stop him. To say never mind and to leave it as is and pray that the train will be stopping soon to let some people off… but you don't. Instead you hold your breath and squeeze your legs together. Your arousal grows to an unbearable high. It's just a simple touch. Why is it driving you crazy? You aren't inexperienced at your age by any means. You've had lovers before but this man's fingers, they burn wherever he touches.

“The material of your skirt seems to be stuck on my fly.” He says and the urge to crawl into a hole is strong. “I can fix it but I'll have to lower my zipper. Tell me what you're comfortable with y/n.” He whispers leaning closer to your ear.

Loose tendrils of your ponytail flutter around your ear from his breath and you mentally remind yourself to breathe. Would it be selfish to ask him to lower it? What if he's uncomfortable with that? This isn't just about you now.

“I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.”

He places his palm flat against your thigh comfortingly. “Whatever you decide, I won't be uncomfortable. As long as you're comfortable y/n, then so am I.” The conviction in his voice calms you and you give him a curt nod once.

“Lower it please.” You whisper, your voice sounding small with embarrassment.

His hand moves again from your thigh to your ass and you bite your lip hard. His knuckles graze the bareness and you unexpectedly feel him stir from inside his black slacks. Seems like I'm not the only one turned on by the other. Slowly and agonizingly, he lowers his zipper to not be heard over the piano and violin playing through the speakers.

“There. Are you okay?” You don't feel okay. You feel like you’re on the verge of dying from embarrassment and horniness. You can feel the opening of his pants against you and his growing erection pressing into your ass.

“I'm okay.” You lie. “Thank you Chris.”

Out of habit whenever you're riddled with anxiety, you shift your footing which only makes your ass rub against his erection more. “Shit. I'm sorry, I move around when I'm in an embarrassing situation and this takes the cake for me.”

He chuckles softly. “It's okay. I uh, I can't really control it unfortunately. Not when I've got such a beautiful woman like you in my arms. You make it… difficult to say the least.”

You rest your forehead onto the cold glass feeling the blush take over your whole face and he chuckles again.

“If I knew my evening would be like this I wouldn't have gone to happy hour with my co-workers.” Your sad confession fogs up the glass and you close your eyes.

He places a comforting hand on your hip. You're so packed he can't seem to stand the way he was before. His arms are restricted from raising any further than your hips now.

“It's okay y/n it's not all bad. We got to meet after all.” He says, making you smile.

“That's true. I don't know what would've happened if I didn't run into you.” His hands linger and you get so used to the heat that when he finally does move them away you feel cold and shiver under him. He groans softly, sending something like an electric current to the space between your thighs. That sound… you want to hear it more. Biting your lip you shift your weight from one foot to the other.

“Y/n…” Chris quietly says, sounding amused. “What are you doing?”

You shake your head feigning innocence. “My feet. It's these heels, I'm sorry.”

Why did I do that? I've seriously lost my mind but why do I want to do it again? The feel of him hard against your ass must be making you certifiably insane. This isn't right. Your better judgment screams at you. It's just your hormones getting out of hand.

When he places both hands on your hips and leans in, you expect for him to call you out on that blatant lie but instead he whispers, “Do it again.” All while slowly playing with the hem of your skirt.

You stifle a silent gasp, jaw dropping in disbelief, yet you obediently follow his instructions moving your hips just slightly. When you do, his left hand grips onto your hip tight and he sighs. His erection, that's fighting itself to stay inside the confines of his briefs, jerks forward against the fabric. Before you can shift again, his right arm wraps around you and his fingers find the wetness of your panties.

“So I'm not the only one fighting temptation I see.” His warm sweet breath fans across your cheek and your body sags a little in his arms when his fingers begin to dance.

Focusing on your breathing is all you can do so you don't faint from his touch. And trying to stay quiet now becomes a struggle the more his fingers move.

“Is this okay y/n?” You can only nod, too afraid of accidentally moaning and embarrassing yourself anymore today. He just chuckles and stops the torturous tango that his fingers were doing. “Use your words baby girl. Tell me if it's okay or not.” he instructs.

“Yes. It's okay, more please.” You hoarsely whisper, voice thick with lust.

Chris doesn't move, doesn't make a sound for what feels like minutes rather than seconds. Afraid that he might not have heard you, you open your mouth to repeat yourself when his fingers slip under the satin of your thong and into your slick folds.

“Good girl.” He says, his voice dripping with sex.

You lay your head back onto his shoulder as he works you just barely over the edge. Long fingers slipping in and out, massaging your thoroughly drenched cunt with ease. He grinds the heel of his palm against your clit and everything around you begins to blur. Lust, that primal urge, it ignites like a flame inside you, pulsating with an insatiable hunger that courses through every fiber of your being. You're so close to cumming around Chris's fingers, soaking his hand with your desire. You want to tell him just how close you are but if you let up on the hold your teeth have on your bottom lip you won't be able to control the sounds you'll make.

The lights come on just as you're about to come undone and he quickly removes his fingers just as quickly as he inserted them. The train begins to move again and you squint at the sudden light overhead that blinds you, breathing heavily. Before your eyes can adjust to the light and before your core begins to crave Chris's touch, you feel him fumbling behind you freeing his cock and distracting you from the frustration of your denied orgasm.

“Is there anything I should know?” He inquires, sounding like he's in a business meeting.

You don't need to ask what he's referring to. The real question though is do you really want to do this here, with someone you just met? What if you get caught? You both could get arrested. You could get fired. But there's no room in your mind for logic right now with the thrill and your need to cum clouding you. Fuck it.

“No nothing, I'm good. This is what I want.” You see his reflection smile.

“Good. Now, keep your eyes on me y/n.”

You feel the tip of him, covered in precum pressed firmly on your ass and his hands slide under your navy skirt pushing it up further. He hooks his thumb under the string of your thong and pulls it to the side. Your eyes never leave his face.

“No noise.” He warns, situating himself behind you, lining his cock up just right.

His cock feels thick and hot slipping between your thighs. You're so wet that there's little to no resistance as he pushes further and further until he's fully inside you. You let out a shuddering breath and your eyelids flutter close, feeling his warmth.

“No noise, remember? Look at me y/n. I want to see you when you cum on dick.” He tells you quietly, his voice more quiet than a whisper.

Your eyes fly open and stare at his reflection in awe of how gorgeous and composed he looks. He looks calm, like he's doing nothing other than waiting for his stop but his hands tell you otherwise. You feel it in the way he's gripping you to steal himself and to keep from bucking his hips into you at full force like he wants to. Like you want him to.

Instead he has to go at such an aching delicious slow pace so that the people behind him or next to you both aren't aware of what's going on. Your fingers long to hold onto him, to anything really. You're stuck standing still with your palms flat against the glass in front of you. Your breathing begins to fog the glass but you keep your focus on Chris and notice how his eyes go half lidded.

The brown seems to have gotten darker than the warm milk chocolate from earlier. One of his arms snakes around you and he presses his hand flat on your belly giving him more leverage. When he starts to move just a tad faster your heart rate skyrockets. The fear, adrenaline and lust mixing together creates an intoxicating concoction. Every glance, every touch, becomes charged with an energy that enthralls you. Your pulse echoes in your ears, drowning out all rational thought.

Chris's thrusts are covered up by the rocking of the train as it speeds down the rails. Your orgasm isn't far at this rate. Like a slow burn you feel it building up. A simmering that starts deep within your core, radiating up and outward. You're struggling to stay standing, to stay quiet now.

Your breathing comes out in ragged pants and your knees threaten to buckle the closer he brings you to ecstasy. You aren't the only one struggling, Chris's breathing is just as shaky and primal as yours and you hear him whisper something in another language before he murmurs “Fuck.” Into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. When your walls tighten around him he curses again and his gaze looks wild.

“Why do you feel so good around my cock y/n?” He asks but you don't dare respond. He smirks, grinding himself into you. “You take directions s-so well. So… obedient.” He whispers.

You can hear how he's losing his control. His composure has melted away and he no longer looks calm and collected. He looks like a man high on sex and chasing the release that's within reach.

“Y/n… fuck. Tell me, can I cum inside you? Will you let me fill you? Use your words beautiful.” He nips your neck just below your ear and you tremble.

“Yes. You can,” You bite your lip again to hold back what would've been a loud gasp when the train jerks Chris forward causing his cock to slam into your sensitive cunt. “You can cum inside. I'm so close Chris.”

“Then cum baby. Fucking cream on it y/n. Shit, so good.

Hearing him lose himself like that is your undoing and you're falling apart around him. The air becomes heavy with the heady scent of arousal, thick and intoxicating, swirling around you and Chris like a seductive veil. Each breath is laced with the taste of pleasure. Time seems to stand still as you stare at him. Eyes wide as you breathe through your nose squeezing your lips shut tight desperate to make no sound at all. Your cunt convulses around his cock begging to milk it of every drop.

The aftershocks of your orgasm shoot through you as he continues to thrust deeper and deeper. His own orgasm right at the edge. His arm tightens around you, hugging you closer to him. his breath becomes shallow and erratic as he reaches his climax.

“Fuck, fuck.” He whispers and he bites down hard on your neck over your fast pulsating pulse, sucking your flesh to keep himself from telling you how you belong to him now.

He bites you to keep the grunts and praises from tumbling out of his mouth uncontrollably. Because something about you makes him lose control. He doesn't do shit like this. He's careful, always planning and thinking things out. He just doesn't do spontaneity. He didn't plan this, it just happened. You just bulldozed into his life and he can’t get enough. What is it about you that makes him desire this cunt he's currently filling to the brim that he craves to make sore and swollen with his cock until the sun rises? Whatever it is, he's already addicted. He needs you in his own space, tied up nice and pretty like a gift only for him to unwrap. Fuck. He's already thinking of all the positions he'd have you in if you were at his place.

You watch in awe at how intense and irresistible he looks while he spills himself inside of you. His eyes hold so much power over you. You feel the weight of his possessiveness in his unwavering stare and it excites you immensely. You find yourself thinking of asking him to come back to your place where you'd be free to move around, cry his name out without anyone around. You're curious how sex with Chris would be in a more relaxed setting. If this orgasm was intense you can't imagine how it would feel when he isn't holding back.

He slowly pulls out of you, fixing himself as best as he can and then fixes your skirt back in place. He places a sweet kiss to the back of your head, chest still rapidly rising and falling. When you blush he chuckles.

“You're a cutie y/n. After all that, you blush from a kiss. So adorable.” He murmurs and you shift your feet. “If we don't get off soon I'll end up going for another round if you keep that up.”

You giggle and look back at him, “Sorry, I'll behave.” You sweetly say.

“What if I don't want you to?” He says instantly.

You blink at him, your face reflecting shock in the glass, and he chuckles. “To be honest with you y/n, I'd love to see you again if you'd let me.”

“Me? Seriously?” You whisper in disbelief.

“Of course. Preferably somewhere less crowded. I think after today I'll be just a little claustrophobic.”

You laugh and even after what just happened you can't believe how incredible of a guy he is. He wraps his arms around you, hugging you while you laugh.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a beautiful laugh y/n?” He whispers and you shake your head. “Why does something as simple as hearing you laugh make me so hard? What have you done to me?”

A shiver of pleasure runs through your body and he exhales quietly.

“I'd fuck you again right now if we weren't about to stop.” He tells you followed by the robotic female voice informing everyone to wait until the train comes to a complete stop and the doors open.

As the subway doors slide open, Chris grabs your hand and pulls you through them, dodging the rush of commuters that are eager to go home. With ease he leads you away from the hooded creep that's desperate to find you, vanishing into the shadows behind a massive pillar. You peek out from behind Chris who scans the area cautiously. When the man doesn't see you he hops back on the train, disappointment evident on his face but relief floods over you. Glad that's over.

"Thank you Chris." you say, sending a quick text to your best friend for a ride. “For saving me I mean.”

"It was my pleasure, y/n." he replies smoothly, grinning at you, his gaze lingering on your lips. His thumb brushes your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. "Anytime you need saving, or anything really just give me a shout, yeah?" He hands you a sleek black business card with fancy gold letters.

Maybe you will call him, because you really can't imagine that you'll get the memory of how he felt inside of you out of your mind. Besides, he made it very clear he wanted to see you again and how could you turn a man like Chris down?

After saying goodbye when your bestie arrives, you watch Chris walk away in the side mirror as the car eases into traffic. Glancing at the card in your hand, you see it reads "Chris Bang, CEO and Co-owner of CBO," and you feel a wave of shock and mortification wash over you.

“Who was that hottie?” Your friend asks bobbing her head along to the radio when she stops at a red light.

“My new boss…” You say, still feeling his warm cum still inside of you.

“Also... what the hell happened to your neck?”

[is-not-a-bell]

Ghost blobs lead someone to Danny

(There is a part 2 now)

Batman froze at the floating blob, nearly the same color of lauzus waters and glowed even brighter. It seemed to notice him and ziped over to him at an alarming speed. Batman tensed ready to strike. But the thing just hovered in front of him and humming? It sounded desperate and worried, despite sound completely inhuman. His lack of response on seemed to increase the noise it made now make odd movements in one direction.

Before he could blink suddenly he was swarmed with the things. Some started pushing at his back and face. Others grabbed at his cape and tried tugging him forward. All of them humming the same desperate tune. Against his better judgement, a feeling in his chest told him to follow. "Alright" He whispered to the odd blobs. "Lead the way." Several bolted away as he chased behind them. A few stayed with him flying next to him or tucked into his cape.

He followed them over buildings until they reached a warehouse district. He was lead to an area designated for demolition. Finally the blobs float to the ground stoping at a warehouse with a door left ajar.

When Batman pushed the doors open he saw nothing, he stood still for a moment. He nearly thought it was a trap. Before the familiar gentle push urged him on. The ones leading him before flew behind a pile of trash and just barely he could see a faint glow behind it.

When Batman walked behind the trash pile, he froze. A dozen more blobs were there all crowding around a dimly glowing child. The white haired child was curled up and seemed to be bleeding lauzrus green. Batman rushed over and grabbed the child's wrist to feel for a pulse. His heart lurched when he found one, and it lurched again when the boy moved. He whimpered and weakly tried pulling away.

He sprang into action and pulled the boy to himself. He grabbed his bandages and gently uncurled the boy to see his wounds. He froze again at the Y-shaped cut on his chest and the countless other cuts left on him. "Please- please stop." Batman snapped back to when the boy spoke. "It's alright, you're safe now." He said softly, he wrapped the boy up as best he could. "What's your name?" He asked as he gently picked the boy up.

The boy was humming like the blobs he realized, it was far weaker like a buzzing in his hands. "Danny" The boy replied, Batman nearly didn't hear him. "I'll keep you safe Danny, I promise." At that Danny seemed to relax and melt into him. Batman called the Batmobile.

The blobs followed them outside a few seemed to fly away before coming back. Like they were patrolling the area. Others were comforting Danny, rubbing up against him or humming a different sound possibly to reassure him. "What are they?" Batman asks, hoping to get some information before the boy could pass out. "Blob ghosts." He muttered.

"Ghosts?"

"It's what I am, but I'm really bad at it" Danny mumbled the last part to himself but Batman caught it. A ghost entity? It would explain the lack of a pulse and even the wounds. A ghost haunted with his own autoposy scars. Before he could ask more the bat mobile stopped in front of them.

Batman hopped inside and gently place Danny in the passenger seat, buckling him in. The blob ghosts followed tucking into the back in a quick flurry. And like that Batman set off. He called Alfred. "Alfred, prepare the medbay. I have a severely injured unknown."

"Right away"

Batman barely managed to keep the boy awake all the way to the Batcave. Batman tries to ignore Alfred's shocked face as he sees Danny and the swarm of blob ghosts that follow them. "You didn't say they were this unknown."

"Danny says that they are 'blob ghosts' and claims he is a ghost as well. But that he is bad at it some how." Batman explained as they rushed to the medbay. When Batman set the boy down a white ring of light appeared around the boy it split and passed over him. They were left with a very human looking boy who was now bleeding red, mixing in with the green.

He and Alfred shared a look of shock. Before having to push the feeling away to help the boy.

[leossmoonn]

call out my name | mike schmidt

summary - mike gets jealous after seeing you so friendly with a co-worker

includes / warnings - reader is fem. takes place after he worked at freddy’s. unprotected sex, overstimulation if you squint, fingering.

————

18+ under the cut

mike’s about to shit his heart out as he looks in the window of the car dealership, seeing you and your co-worker standing at the reception desk. his blood starts boil as your co-worker makes you laugh. his hand keeps brushing against yours as he shows you whatever interesting video is on his phone. mike swears your co-worker steps closer to you so now your shoulders are touching. you don’t seem to notice, though.

mike runs a hand through his hair and makes sure the collar of his shirt is tucked. he opens the door, the bell making you raise your head. a bright smile encompasses your face and you stand up straighter, smoothing out any wrinkles in your shirt.

“you here to buy a car?” you tease your boyfriend. “i wish,” mike chuckles softly. his smile immediately drops when your co-worker speaks up.

“hey, mike.” the way he says mike’s name makes his stomach churn. “what’s up, drew?” mike’s smile is polite and tight as he glances at him.

“nothing much. is work slow for you, too?” drew asks. “no, i’m on my lunch break,” mike says. he fights the urge to roll his eyes. drew knows why he comes here.

“must keep you on a long leash with you coming all the way here,” drew says. “what do you do for work again? oh, yeah, mall security?”

mike’s hands ball into fists and he clenches his jaw. he tries to keep his reactions minimal, knowing drew wants to get a reaction out of him.

“actually,” you interject, “mike got a job waiting tables and he just got promoted to manager a week ago.”

“wow,” drew gasps. “how exciting. you must be so proud of yourself.”

mike glares at drew, trying to breathe slowly as to calm himself. you shuffle away from drew, not catching the small disappointment in his eyes.

“let’s go to the break room, yeah?” you ask. mike nods and follows you, part of him relaxing as your hand grabs his tricep. he sits down and waits for you to grab your lunch from the fridge.

“how come you didn’t bring anything?” you frown. “not that hungry,” he shrugs. truthfully, he can’t work up an appetite on the days he knows drew works with you. he‘s tried to eat in the past, knowing how you worry about him taking care of himself. but if he tries to eat, the food would end up wasted, and he can’t afford that.

“do you want half of my sandwhich?” you ask. “no, i’m okay,” he shakes his head.

“what about some pieces of fruit?” you press. “you go ahead and eat all your food,” mike chuckles. you hum in dissatisfaction. you russle through your lunch box, finding a week-old granola bar. “here,” you hand it to him. mike’s about to deny you again, but the desperation in your eyes makes him fold. he takes it and thanks you, taking small bites and chewing slowly.

mike’s worries dissipate the more time he spends with you. his dread is replaced with joy as you laugh at his weak jokes. warmth encapsulates his heart as you scoot your chair closer to him so your knees are touching. the kiss you press on his cheek makes him grin from ear-to-ear.

he saddens when he realizes he has to go back to work. you walk him out to his car, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

“i’ll talk to drew about his rudeness,” you mention. mike’s ears perk up in surprise. “oh…you don’t have. i don’t think he was being rude. he’s just —”

“mike,” you raise your brows. he sighs, “thank you.” you smile and nod, “of course. drive safe to work. i’ll see you tonight.”

he nods and kisses you again, having to peel himself away from you to leave.

a few days later, mike has to drop you off at work.

“can i use the bathroom real quick?” mike asks as you start to get out of the car. “of course,” you answer.

you two walk in together and you go to the break room to put all your things away. mike goes and finds you to say goodbye after he uses the restroom. he finds you in the break room with no one other than drew. you’re leaning against the counter, waiting for your coffee to brew. drew is close to you again — too close. his hand is on the counter right by your waist. he’s looking down at you, eyes flickering from your hips to your breasts and neck.

mike clears his throat and both of you turn to him. you walk over, giving him a long and warm hug.

“thank you for taking me to work,” you say. “no problem. do you need me to pick up you?” he asks.

“no, rachel can take me,” you say. “you just worry about picking abby up from school.”

his lips upturn and he nods. you press a kiss to his cheekbone and he begins to leave, but drew stops him.

“hey, mike. sorry about what i said the other day,” drew apologizes, but he doesn’t look sorry. mike nods at him, smiling awkwardly. “it’s fine. thanks.”

mike awaits your arrival at his home, making dinner for the two of my you. abby wanted to hang out at a friends house, so he dropped her off there, leaving the house empty for the two of you for a while.

he perks up as he hears your voice from outside. his heart races in excitement and he goes to the front door to greet you, but his feet stay glued to the floor as he sees drew, not rachel, get out of the car. he’s handing your purse and lunchbox, which mike knows you’re perfectly capable of retrieving yourself. you smile at drew and mike knows enough about you to know it’s a polite smile. it’s when you and drew hug that mike starts to feel nauseous. you stand a little far away from drew for it to be a normal hug, but drew pulls your closer and you don’t pull away. mike watches as drew’s hand slides down your back, just above your ass. mike’s hand that’s on the doorknob turns white. you pull away after a few seconds too long and drew moves to say something in your ear that makes you giggle. mike’s about to go out there and punch drew in the face, but you’re already making your way to the house.

mike scurries away from the door and back to the kitchen. he keeps stirring the pot of pasta, keeping his head down as you unlock the door and enter.

“hey, babe,” you greet him with a smile. you hang your coat on the rack besides the door, placing your purse and keys on the coffee table. you kick off your shoes and place them by mike’s.

“how was your day?” you ask as you walk over to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water.

“fine,” mike answers through gritted teeth. “you okay?” your brows furrow in worry. you place a hand between is shoulder blades, which he shrugs off. “yeah. just tired,” he mumbles.

“okay,” you say unconvinced. you don’t push. mike’s a grown man and you’ve been together long enough for him to know that if he has a problem, he needs to speak up and ask for help. “where’s abby?” you ask.

“at a friend’s.”

“looks like we get the house to ourselves.”

your tone is teasing and when he looks at you, you have a mysterious glimmer in your eyes. he can’t muster up an ounce of care. he just hums in response.

“i’m going to go change into pjs,” you say, your warm lips settling on his skin. he just nods and you walk away, mind racing with what he could be so upset about.

dinner is worse. you two don’t talk at all. all your attempts fail. even when one of you are tired, you both make an effort.

“thank you for making dinner. i’m sorry i’m not that hungry,” you say.

“it’s fine,” he says, holding his head down and staring into his plate of alfredo.

“drew shared his chick-fil-a with me, so i guess i’m still full from that.”

something inside mike snaps. he drops his silverware with a clang, roughly getting out of his chair. it scrapes against the hardwood and he grabs his plate, shoving all the food down the trashcan and practically throwing the plate into the sink. he stomps away, going into his room. your stunned at his behavior, slowly getting up and walking over to his room.

“what the hell was that?” you ask. “nothing,” he grumbles. he’s taking off his sweatshirt, feeling too warm from becoming worked up.

“mike, talk to me. you’ve been acting weird ever since i got home. is something wrong? did abby get in trouble at school or say something?” you ask.

“i thought rachel was going to take you home.” his eyes stare daggers into yours. your throat dries and your heart starts to race. you don’t know why you suddenly feel so nervous. you weren’t hiding anything, but mike’s expression made it seem like you had just committed a crime.

“i… yeah. she was,” you say, your voice sounding softer with each word. “then why did drew take you home?” mike asks.

“rachel had to pick up her son from school. he got sick.”

“oh, how convenient.”

you now shoot him a glare. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“stop acting so innocent! we both know he’s in love with you.”

“that’s ridiculous, mike.”

“oh, is it? because from the moment you started working there, he’s been glued to your side. i mean, the first time i met him, he was pressed up against you!”

“he was just showing me how the system worked!”

“i’m sure that’s all he was doing,” mike says with a sour smile. “the other day, he was acting like an asshole.”

“i told him to apologize to you and he did, didn’t he?”

“yeah, because he wants to be on your good side.”

“mike, c’mon,” you try to settle the argument. you take a step towards him but he furthers the distance between you two.

“and today? buying you food and driving you home,” mike recants. “he’s a nice guy, mike. he’s bought food for the whole team before!” you exclaim, feeling exasperated.

“yeah, i bet he hugs everybody like how he hugged you, too. pressed all up against you with hand practically on your ass. and then he whispers something in your ear that makes you laugh so loud. he must be a real comedian since you’re always giggling when you’re with him.”

your frustration turns to worry as mike begins to talk more to himself than you. you have to admit, you’ve always known of drew’s crush on you. but he had never made a real move on you or made you uncomfortable. there was no reason to report him or confront him about it, especially since he knows you’re with mike. you always try to make your boundaries clear with everyone, but perhaps you missed a few of the signs with drew.

“tell me, what did he say to you?” mike asks, looking into your eyes.

“i-i don’t remember,” you admit honestly.

“i bet he was saying something about me, right? maybe he was telling you to go back to his place instead. i wouldn’t be surprised if you wanted to say yes.”

you’re taken aback by his assumptions of you. “is that what you really think of me, mike? you think i would leave you for some guy i’ve known for a couple months? for a guy who is only a co-worker to me?”

“i don’t know,” he shrugs. “you seem pretty smitten with him. he probably thinks you want to fuck him.”

you grit your teeth, feeling your heart sink as you finally hear what mike seems to think of you. “you’re an idiot, mike.” you walk out of his room, going to grab your purse and keys. he’s quick to follow you.

“you’re leaving now?” he scoffs. “i bet i can guess who you’re going to call to pick up you.”

“get over yourself, mike!” you yell. you head towards the door but he grabs your wrist, whipping you around to face him. you’re so close, you almost collide with his chest. his chest heaves up and down, his face flushed. “i think you should get over yourself,” he seethes. “you can’t seem to tell me that you don’t love him.”

“i don’t love him. i love you!” you shout, watching his face soften as your words register. “i didn’t want to tell you like this, but… i think you need to hear it.” your voice is quiet, almost a whisper now.

he doesn’t say anything. you can’t read his expression. you know mike likes to pull away from people. you know he’s afraid of losing everyone he loves. you know it’s hard for him to be open with you and this blow up tonight is a testament to that. you just hope he doesn’t try to push you away even more.

“mike? say something, please. if you don’t love me either then just say that, but it’s important you know that i do love —”

he smashes his lips against yours. your body melts against his out of instinct. you drop your purse and keys, wrapping your arms around his neck and weaving your fingers through his hair. his kisses are bruising, like he wants you to feel it tomorrow. his hands grasp at your sides, pulling you in closer, needing to feel every inch of you.

he begins to walk backwards to the couch, one of his hands leaving your body to feel out the couch. he sits down, grabbing the small of your back and yanking you onto his lap. your lips part for a small gasp of air and he slips his tongue in. your teeth clash as your tongue does a tango with his. your hands cup the back of his neck where his spine begins, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck.

he moans into your mouth, the sound vibrating inside you. his hands untucking your shirt and snaking up your back. he unclasps your bra and he wastes no time with getting his hands on your tits. even with your bra still hanging off your arms, his hand slithers under the wire.

you can feel his hard on under you. you can’t help but grind, your clit catching onto your underwear. your head drops and you moan into his ear, making him shudder underneath you. your hands move down to his t-shirt, dragging it up his body. he has to pause from massaging your breasts, but takes the opportunity to take your shirt and bra off.

his lips attach to your nipple, his tongue swirling and teeth oh-so-gently nibbling. your hands run down his chest, the soft hairs of his chest tickling your fingertips. your fingers stop at his belt and the ache between your thighs grows. you whine in need, starting to unbuckle his pants. once you do so, you quickly stand up and strip, swinging your leg back over mike’s waist once he takes his pants off.

you kiss him once more, sucking on his lip in between breaths. one of his hands settle on the junction between your hip and thigh, the other finding your cunt. you moan into his mouth as two fingers slip inside of you. he curves his fingers inside of you, brushing up against that sweet spot. your pussy gushes around his fingers with each movement and he can feel your juices slide down his hand at this angle. his thumb reaches up and circles over your throbbing clit. you can’t help but fall into him, his chin meeting your shoulder.

“mike,” you whimper. “feels good, huh?” he breathes out, his chest heaving up and down.

“mmhm,” you nod, screwing your eyes shut and biting your lip.

“he can’t make you this wet, can he?” mike whispers into your ear. he begins to kiss below your ear, sucking harshly. your stomach flips at his words and you shake your head, the only things coming out of your mouth are moans and whimpers.

“use your words, baby.” his voice is low and deep. his mouth is pressing searing hot kissing on your skin, sending a thrill up your spine.

“nu-uh,” is all you manage to say. his fingers pump faster, applying just the right pressure to get you off.

“shit, mike,” you gasp, your orgasm bubbling up in your lower stomach. you start to ride his fingers, gathering more friction around your clit. your fingertips dig into the flesh of his bicep as you come.

“mike,” you slur as he doesn’t stop rubbing your clit. “too much, too much!” you exclaim in a moan. mike slows his thumb’s movements, peering up at your face. your eyes are half-lidded and your lip is swollen from biting it so hard.

he gives you a few moments before taking you by the hips and flipping you over. his cock throbs at the sight of your legs spread for him. he knows how wet you were on his fingers. he can’t wait a second longer.

you grab onto his shoulders as he pushes into you. you both groan at the initial feeling. he fits you just like a glove. your pussy envelopes in warm and wetness, making it easy for him to just slide in.

he doesn’t waste any time with fucking you. he’s balls deep inside of you, marveling in the way your pussy hugs him. your walls clench around him with each thrust, the sounds of your juices gushing around his cock making you both lightheaded.

“you like being fucked like this, hm?” mike pants. “yes,” you breathe out. you’re starting to hyperventilate as his thrust become faster. his hips snap with yours, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin filling the room.

“tell me, can he fuck you like this?” he asks, his nose pressed against your cheek.

“no, mike. never.”

one of his hands grip the couch arm, about ready to pull out the stuffing. his other hand is digging into your side, surely to cause some bruising in the next few hours. your hands hook under his arms and you pull him closer to you as you’re about to come.

“fuck, baby,” he groans. “i-i love you, too. i think i’m gonna come, fuck.”

you can’t tell who’s breathing is who’s or who says what curse words, but you can feel him unload inside of you. warmth fills your insides as the knot in your tummy unravels. you buck your hips up to his in one last attempt to feel any sort of friction and then your body collapses on the couch, feeling weak and numb.

mike pulls out of you slowly, a string of his semen connecting from your pussy to his tip. he gets up and pulls on his boxers, walking to the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth. you pull yourself up against the pillows, resting one leg off of the couch. mike sits between your legs, wiping up his oozing cream. he leans down and presses a kiss to your inner thigh, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. he kisses a trail all the way up to your lips.

he kisses you sweetly this time around. his hands cup your face, cradling you close you him. he pulls away, sitting back with a smile as he looks at your neck.

“you’re gonna have to cover that up,” he says. you touch your skin, feeling how raw it is. you shrug and get up, putting your underwear back on. “i don’t think i will.”

mike raises his brows. “what if your co-workers see? what if drew comments on it?”

you give mike a coy smile. “i’ll tell him who gave it to me, then.”

[elladreams]

Echoes of the Past // MV1

summary: An unexpected reunion with her high school bully reignites old wounds and unresolved feelings.

trigger warnings: she/her Y/N, mentions of bullying, smut (18+), dom!max, dub!con if you squint, size kink.

words: 5.4K

The warm Mediterranean sun cast a golden glow on the elegant terrace of La Villa Belle Époque, overlooking the turquoise waters of the Côte d'Azur. Y/N took a sip of her champagne, her eyes casually scanning the crowd of impeccably dressed guests. Her breath hitched when her gaze unexpectedly landed on a face she had desperately hoped to forget—Max fucking Verstappen.

The shock of seeing him for the first time since high school sent a jolt through her. Y/N had spent countless nights imagining this moment, rehearsing every possible scenario, crafting a mental script to prepare herself. Despite her preparations, now, standing on the brink of reality, she realized that no amount of overthinking could have braced her for the adrenaline surging through her veins. Years of therapy and thousands of Euros spent had not insulated her from the impact of his presence; she was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. That’s how much control he still had over her.

She hadn’t exactly been hiding under a rock these past years. His achievements were plastered all over the news, his smug face beamed from towering billboards and shop windows. No matter how many social media accounts she blocked, the gossip, the paparazzi photos—they always found a way to haunt her feed. Somehow, she had meticulously crafted a filtered reality where he didn’t exist in any way, shape, or form. 

She had worked tirelessly to erase that part of her teenage years, especially the memories of a particularly cruel boy who had tormented her during the most awkward phase of her life. Every day, he seemed to find new ways to humiliate her—cutting remarks about her appearance, mocking her every move, and ensuring she felt small whenever he was around. It was as if he took pleasure in targeting her insecurities, knowing exactly where to strike to leave lasting scars. 

Yet, despite the cruelty, her heart betrayed her; she couldn't help but admire him from afar, drawn to the charm he effortlessly wielded over everyone but her. The worst part was the way her love for him only deepened the pain, turning every insult into a twisted reminder of the affection she would never receive from him.

With him spending most of his time training and competing in Formula 3 races, school started offering her sweet relief from his torment. So imagine her shock when he showed up at the annual summer camp—a place she had always considered her safe haven, where she hoped to blend in and finally focus on building her social life. But even there, he found her, and the teasing that haunted her school days followed her to what was supposed to be her escape. 

They were paired together during a hike that led them deep into the woods. She had been quiet the whole time, trying to keep her distance, while he alternated between mocking her and ignoring her altogether. As the sun began to set and the group started heading back to camp, they somehow got separated from the others. It was just the two of them, walking through the trees, the air thick with the sounds of nature and an awkward silence between them.

She was nervous, her heart pounding for reasons she wanted to ignore. Then, out of nowhere, he stopped and turned to her, a strange look in his eyes. Before she could ask what he was doing, he stepped closer, his usual smirk replaced by something darker, more serious. She froze as he reached out, his hand brushing her arm, and without warning, he leaned in and slammed his lips to hers. It wasn’t the kiss she had dreamed of—it was quick, almost rough, and utterly unexpected. It felt more like a challenge than a romantic moment, like he was proving something to himself or to her. The kiss left her reeling, not because it was sweet or tender, but because it was him. The boy she had secretly loved, the same boy who had made her life a nightmare, had just stolen her first kiss in the middle of the woods, with no one around to witness it.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stop. Her lips tingled, her mind racing to make sense of what had just happened. But then he pulled back, his familiar smirk returning as if the kiss had meant nothing to him, just another way to mess with her head. He didn’t say anything, just turned and continued walking back to camp as if nothing had happened, leaving her standing there, stunned and conflicted. She touched her lips, feeling a mix of emotions she couldn’t untangle—anger, confusion, and a tiny, treacherous part of her that had wanted it to mean something more. But it didn’t. To him, it was just another game, another way to keep her under his thumb. And as she followed him back to camp, the weight of that realisation crushed the small spark of hope she hadn’t even known she’d been carrying. She had planned to confront him that very next day, the very day he announced he would be leaving school and joining a Formula 1 team.

Now here she was, dressed in her Sunday best, at this pretentious brunch party with a breathtaking view of the Côte d'Azur, clutching a second Mimosa like a lifeline. She silently hoped that drinking it on an empty stomach might actually give her the liquid courage she desperately needed. But there he was, the life of the fucking party, as always. His dark blonde hair, tousled by the August morning breeze, framed a face that could have belonged to a golden age movie star than an elite Formula 1 champion. His tall, lean frame, clad in a loose linen shirt, towered over an older woman he appeared deeply engaged with in conversation. His crystal blue eyes intermittently scanned the crowd, as he took measured sips from what seemed to be some type of hard liquor on the rocks. The casual yet precise movements gave him an air of effortless control, as if he was both part of the scene and aloof from it, surveying his surroundings with a detached curiosity.

In a surge of raw panic, Y/N quickly turned on her heel, praying he hadn’t caught sight of her. There was still time to slip away, unseen, and pretend everything was fine. But she hadn't shown up just for the free drinks or the minuscule hors d’oeuvres. No, she was here because her darling mother—currently nowhere in sight—had insisted on some quality mother-daughter time, lamenting how rare it was these days. 

She downed the rest of her drink and placed the empty glass on a nearby server’s tray with a silent thanks. She needed to leave—now. As she fumbled with her phone, hastily typing an excuse to send her mother, a voice calling her name stopped her cold. A low voice that haunted her nightmares while simultaneously lingering in her darkest fantasies.

“Y/N?” 

Her chance to escape had slammed shut, and all the carefully crafted scenarios she had rehearsed now seemed like distant, fleeting thoughts, slipping further and further from her grasp. Panic threatened to take hold, but she knew she couldn’t afford to unravel—not here, not now. She needed to get her shit together, swallow the rising lump in her throat, and face the situation head-on. It was time to end this—no more running, no more letting him hold power over her. She had come too far, fought too hard to let the past cripple her again. This time, she would be the one in control.

A surprising wave of calm washed over her as she turned to face him, her chin lifted just enough to meet his gaze head-on. "Max." She offered a small, composed smile, hoping it would mask the lingering adrenaline still buzzing at the tips of her fingers. "What a surprise." Her words carried a faint hint of irony, as she couldn’t help but acknowledge the bitter truth—this wasn’t exactly the kind of surprise she had been hoping for. Still, she held her ground, determined not to let him see the turmoil beneath her calm exterior.

"I could say the same," he replied, his voice dripping with a casual arrogance that hadn't faded over the years. His gaze lingered on her, drifting from her slightly parted lips down to the silk dress that clung to her curves in a way that made his mouth dry. He took a step closer, his eyes darkening with a mixture of intrigue and something more primal. "It's been a while. What, pray tell, brings you here?"

She couldn’t suppress the small laugh that bubbled up, partly from nerves, partly from the absurdity of the situation. Grateful for the distraction, she reached for another Mimosa from a passing tray and brought it to her lips, the cool liquid a welcome relief to her parched throat. "It certainly has been quite a while," she said, nodding more to herself than to him, her gaze drifting away as she feigned interest in the stunning view. Anything to avoid the intensity of his stare. She could feel the weight of his presence beside her, and it took every ounce of effort not to let her emotions spill over. But as much as she tried to appear unaffected, the memories of their past tangled with the present, leaving her struggling to maintain her composure.

"Well, aside from the fact that I live here," she replied, her tone crisp, "I’m meeting someone." She took another sip of her Mimosa, using the glass as a shield. "What about you? Don’t you have a crash to cause or a penalty to collect? It is Sunday, last I checked." Her words were laced with a biting sarcasm that she hoped would keep him at a distance, but beneath the surface, her annoyance was bubbling dangerously close to boiling over.

She forced herself to maintain a calm exterior, trying to disguise just how much his presence unsettled her. Every carefully chosen word, every measured breath, was an attempt to keep him from seeing the effect he still had on her. She couldn’t afford to let him know that after all these years, he could still rattle her with just a glance. So she stood there, chin up, desperately clinging to her composure, even as her heart hammered in her chest.

He seemed taken aback by her sharp retort, letting out an actual laugh that filled the air with a mix of surprise and nostalgia. "Look at her, she's finally grown a spine," he remarked, his tone laced with both amusement and a hint of respect. "It is a Sunday, but it’s also summer break, schat. Thanks for keeping tabs tho.” he said, his voice smooth and self-assured as he took a step closer to her, closing the distance between them to almost nothing. The intimate proximity left little room for anything else, certainly not for any proverbial Jesus.

"We need to have a few words, Y/N; in private," he continued, nodding subtly toward an upper deck that appeared to be secluded from the rest of the party. His eyes locked on hers, attempting to read her reaction, to gauge her willingness—or lack thereof.

Y/N felt a chill at his suggestion, despite the warm air. She eyed the upper deck warily, her mind racing with possibilities. His broad shoulders and large hands, which seemed capable of overpowering her without much effort, loomed in her mind. Though she was by no means petite, next to him, she felt alarmingly vulnerable—as if he could easily overpower her if he chose to.

Her voice, when she finally spoke, carried a blend of wariness and mock amusement. “Really, Max, if you think for a second I'm going to follow you anywhere secluded, you might be more delusional than I remembered." Her words were sharp, intended to push back against his presumption, to remind him that she wasn't the same person he used to bully.

Max's smile didn't waver, but she noticed a flicker of something else—was it annoyance?—flash through his eyes. "Come, Y/N" he insisted, his tone softening. "A few minutes, that's all I'm asking.” 

Y/N hesitated, her resolve flickering as curiosity pricked at her defences. What could he possibly have to say that couldn’t be discussed right here, surrounded by the safety of the crowd? Despite her reservations, a part of her needed to know. She nodded, whispering a quiet approval, her voice barely audible over the buzz of conversation around them.

He responded by reaching out and gently grasping her arm, his grip firm yet surprisingly tender. He guided her through the throng of partygoers, leading her up the stairs to the secluded upper deck. As he manoeuvred them through the crowd, his touch—a mixture of control and care—tugged unexpectedly at her heartstrings. It resurrected a swarm of emotions she had diligently worked to suppress, the memories of their past interactions mingling with a confusing sense of present vulnerability and an inexplicable hint of safety. The duality of her feelings, the blend of old fears and an emerging trust, left her both anxious and strangely anticipatory as they ascended to the quiet of the upper deck.

He set his drink down on a railing overlooking the Mediterranean and ran his fingers through his tousled hair, drawing a deep breath. Surprisingly, he seemed just as nervous as she was—a stark contrast to the unflappable demeanour he usually displayed. Hell, he drove at impossible speeds, there’s no way a conversation with little old her would even raise his heart beat. 

“I spent a lot of time thinking about what I would say to you if we ever met again,” she confessed. He sighed, turning to face her with an expression that was difficult to read, his eyes holding a mix of anticipation and caution.

“And what did you prepare for today?” he asked, his voice steady. He downed the remaining liquor in his glass, the ice clinking sharply against the sides as he set it back with a slight thud.

A wry smile flickered across her lips. “I seem to suffer from a sudden case of amnesia,” she quipped, her tone light but her eyes serious. She placed her glass next to his, the gentle clink echoing their earlier years of discord. “It was something along the lines of: You made a good part of high school hell for me, I’ve talked about you in therapy, and you had no right to steal my first kiss...and so on.” Her voice trailed off, but her stance was firm, her words laying bare the wounds that still lingered from their past.

He seemed aware that he owed her several apologies—aware but clearly not pleased about it. Yet, the mention of that stolen kiss visibly shook him. His hands gripped the rail, knuckles whitening as if he needed the support to stand. “You never deserved the way I treated you,” he said, his voice laced with an angry edge, more at himself than at her. “That was a different person back then, someone I can't bring myself to be proud of.” 

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. Max paused, taking a deep breath as he continued, struggling to articulate his remorse. “I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on those days, trying to understand why I acted the way I did and how I could have been so cruel.” His gaze met hers, earnest and searching.

Max leaned closer, his voice dropping to a huskier tone, charged with a mix of regret and unresolved tension. "You know, it was always your reactions and banter that captivated me," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers, searching. "That curiosity, that fire—I found it irresistible. My father would've had a fit if he knew. He wanted me completely focused on racing, living and breathing every turn of the circuits.” She could feel his whiskey laced breath on her face as he grabbed a lock of her hair and started playing with it mindlessly.

He paused, his gaze intensifying. "So, I hid behind teasing, masked my true feelings with taunts. It was the only way I could interact with you without crossing the line I was supposed to keep. But every jibe was just a poor substitute for what I really wanted to say." He moved a step closer, his presence overwhelming. "I regret that—more than you know.” 

Each word Max spoke seemed to weave around her, slowly turning up her internal heat despite the cool, refreshing breeze off the sea. He was close enough now that she could catch the scent of his skin—a complex fragrance that mingled the fresh, salty air with the rich undertones of spiced woods and amber. The aroma enveloped her, drawing her in, stirring a mix of memories and desires. It was as if the subtle layers of his scent were designed to beckon her closer, awakening a longing she thought she had long buried. As she breathed him in, the proximity made her heart beat faster, her thoughts tangled between the past pain and a present, pulsing attraction. 

She was the one who slammed their lips together this time, champagne mixing with whiskey in a tango only they could dance. His hand traveled from the delicate edge of her hair to the back of her head, gripping a fistful and drawing her even closer. The intensity of his hold only deepened their kiss, pulling them into a moment that felt both reckless and inevitable. 

She was completely and utterly lost as he devoured her mouth with a passion that she never thought possible. He forcefully nibbled at her lips, the pressure of his tongue dancing against her own ripping gasps from her throat. His hands where everywhere and yet not where she desperately needed them as her own trembling fingers were weaving through his hair. When he came up for air he rested his forehead against her own breathing heavily. His expression was reminiscent of Cabanel’s Fallen Angel, both tormented by the impact of their own choices. 

“Tell me to stop.” He ordered as he cupped her face, his forehead never leaving her own. If someone had told her early this morning that she would soon be on the verge of dry humping her high school bully, she would have slapped said someone across the face. Yet here she was, gasping for air and shaking her head because words were just not compatible with the her level of arousal. 

“Please don’t.” were the only words that she could muster out and it was all the confirmation he needed to fully ravage her. Their mouths resumed their favorite dance as Max’s hands started travelling south cupping her breasts through her silk dress, her nipples so hard he could see them through her bra. She couldn’t help but moan in his mouth. Everything was so intense with him, he knew just how much pressure to apply to dance on the edge of pain and ecstasy.

His hands continued their journey finally reaching her heat, making her sigh with pleasure. Her dress was bunched up at her hips now, leaving her legs exposed to his hungry gaze. He traced his fingers down her thigh, slowly, deliberately, as if trying to memorize every curve. As he reached the sensitive spot behind her knee, she let out a gasp, the sensation sending shivers through her body. His touch was electrifying, awakening parts of her she didn't even know existed.

He smirked as his fingers trailed higher, inching closer to her core, never taking her eyes off of her face. She trembled in anticipation, eager for his touch. But instead, his fingers suddenly stopped, lingering just a few centimeters from her center.

His voice was husky, his breath warm against her ear. "Are you sure you want this?"

She could feel her face flush, her body aching for him. "Yes."

"Beg me."

Her eyes widened, surprised by his boldness. "What?"

He chuckled softly, his hand still resting on her inner thigh, just inches from her core. "You heard me." His gaze locked onto hers, a mix of mischief and desire. "I want you to beg me."

His words sent a jolt of arousal through her, her pulse quickening. She had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But despite her embarrassment, the desire burning within her was undeniable. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, before speaking again.

"Please," she whispered, her voice shaking slightly. "I want you, Max"

His eyes flashed with satisfaction, his lips curling into a smirk. "That's my good girl."

With that, he finally gave her what she craved, his fingers sliding over her underwear. She moaned as he stroked her, her body responding eagerly to his touch. His other hand moved to her breast, squeezing it through her dress, and she arched into his palm, desperate for more contact. Without a warning he grabbed her drenched panties, sliding them down her legs. She could have sworn she saw him shove them in his back pocket but with all the dopamine and anticipation, she was simply an unreliable narrator.

Max gathered her in his arms leading them to an alcove where a table sat, patiently waiting for them. She could feel the cool marble on her thighs as he lifted her to sit, spreading her legs and kneeling before her. There was something so primal about the sight of him, her high school tormentor, on his knees before her.

Her legs parted and he took a moment to appreciate the view, making her squirm under his ravenous gaze. She was already so wet and he slid his finger inside her, groaning in satisfaction at the feel of her incredibly tight walls around him. She bit back a whimper, her body aching for more. He added another finger trying to prepare her for him, curling them just right and eliciting a string of whimpers and moans from her.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice husky with lust. She needed more, her hips bucking against his hand. She could feel her orgasm building, her breath coming in short gasps. But just as she was about to fall over the edge, he withdrew his fingers, leaving her aching and unsatisfied.

He looked up at her with a devilish grin, his eyes dark with desire. "I'm not done with you yet."

Her breath caught in her throat as he spread her legs wider, his mouth moving to her entrance. She let out a gasp as his tongue flicked across her clit, sending sparks of pleasure through her body. His fingers joined his mouth, teasing her, exploring her. She was completely at his mercy, her body writhing with pleasure.

"You taste so fucking good," he growled, his voice thick with desire as he was mercilessly lapping at her, drinking her nectar like the sweetest ambrosia.

The sensations were overwhelming, her body overwhelmed with pleasure. She could feel herself teetering on the edge, her orgasm imminent. And just when she thought she couldn't take any more, he curled his fingers inside her, hitting the perfect spot, and she came undone.

"Max!" she cried out, her body shuddering with pleasure. He worked her through her orgasm, his tongue and fingers bringing her to new heights of ecstasy. It was like nothing she had ever experienced, the aftershocks rippling through her body, leaving her spent and trembling as tears of pleasure started streaming from her eyes.

He stood, his erection prominent against his pants. He pulled her to him, his mouth crashing down on hers. She could taste herself on his lips, a hint of sweetness mixed with his own unique flavour. It was intoxicating, and she melted into his embrace, her body still tingling from her climax. He took a second to lick her salty tears, as if the very taste of them was an aphrodisiac. She couldn't believe what had just happened, her mind still reeling from the intensity of the experience. But as she gazed up at him, his eyes dark with desire, she knew there was no turning back.

He was everywhere, surrounding her, his presence overwhelming her senses. She could feel the hard planes of his body against hers, the heat of his skin burning through the thin fabric of her dress. She clung to him, her hands exploring his back, his muscles taut beneath her touch.

As the initial rush of pleasure began to subside, Y/N realized the gravity of what they had done. This wasn't some random hook-up—this was Max, the boy who had once made her life hell. The man she was supposed to hate. The man who, despite everything, she had never been able to fully get over.

She could feel the walls she had carefully built up over the years starting to crumble, the floodgates opening and unleashing a torrent of emotions she had worked so hard to keep at bay. She tried to push him away, to regain some semblance of control, but his grip on her was too strong.

"Let me go," she protested, her voice shaky and uneven.

"Not a chance," he growled, his lips trailing along the side of her neck, his stubble rough against her skin.

"You don't get to walk away this time."

He lifted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. She could feel his erection pressing against her core, his hands gripping her thighs. He carried her to the nearest wall, her back taking the brunt of the impact. His mouth was on hers again, his kiss rough and demanding, stealing the air from her lungs. She was drowning in him, the feel of his body pressed against hers, the taste of him on her lips. It was intoxicating, addicting, and she knew she was lost.

"This is wrong," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"So fucking right," he countered, his mouth claiming hers once more.

She could feel his hard clothed erection rubbing against her bare cunt, she was probably dripping all over his pants. It was the hottest thing she had ever experienced. He ground his hips into her, his covered length sliding between her folds. The friction was incredible, and she let out a soft moan, her body responding to his touch.

"Do you feel what you do to me?" he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I've wanted this for so long, dreamed of it."

His words sent a thrill through her, a rush of adrenaline mingling with the pleasure coursing through her veins. He freed himself from his pants, eliciting a gasp of surprise from her. In truth, she had limited sexual experience, but nothing could have prepared her for his size. She had to remind herself to breathe as he positioned himself at her entrance, his tip sliding between her folds, teasing her.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hands gripping her thighs so hard they would certainly leave marks. He probably read her fear in the expression, "I'll take you slow in the beginning" he said, his voice low and gravelly.

He pushed inside her, his girth stretching her, filling her. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and she buried her face in his neck, her fingers digging into his back. The stretch was unlike anything she's ever felt before, but the pleasure was equally intense. Her body began to relax, the pain starting to give way to pure intense ecstasy.

With another push he was fully seated inside her. He paused, letting her fully adjust to his size. "Breathe through it." he instructed as he stroked the back of her head.

She followed his command, inhaling deeply, and the sharp burn began to fade, replaced by an overwhelming sense of fullness. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, the pleasure almost too intense to handle.

"So fucking tight," he groaned, his voice strained. "So perfect."

"I can't," she whimpered, her body trembling, on the edge of collapse.

"Yes, you can," he growled, his grip on her thighs tightening. "You were made for me."

He began to move, at first his thrusts slow and deep, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through her. He raised her head from the crook of his neck to gaze into her eyes, finding a slow rhythm, their bodies moving in sync, their breathing ragged and heavy.

Her body responded to his, hips rocking against his, her nails digging into his back. She was lost in the moment, the sensations overwhelming her, her body consumed by the pleasure of his touch.

As their pace increased, her thoughts began to melt away, her body giving in to the pure instinctual urge. His thrusts became harder, more urgent, and her climax was building, the pleasure mounting with each stroke.

She was so close, the pressure coiling deep inside her. But before she could reach her peak, he suddenly stopped, his breath ragged, his expression almost pained.

"Why?" she gasped, her body aching for release.

"Not yet," he replied, his voice strained. "I want to make this last."

He lowered her to the floor, his length sliding out of her, the loss of contact leaving her feeling empty and unsatisfied. Before she could protest, he turned her around, her palms resting on the marble table as he bent her over.

His fingers dug into her hips as he thrust into her from behind, the new angle allowing him to go even deeper.

"Fuck Max, you're going to break me." she whimpered, her voice shaking with pleasure.

"Oh, I intend to," he growled, his pace increasing, each stroke sending waves of ecstasy through her.

She could feel her orgasm building, the pleasure rising with every thrust. She was on the edge, her body teetering on the verge of release. He reached around and his fingers found her clit, stroking her, the added stimulation sending her over the edge. She cried out, her body tensing as her orgasm tore through her, the pleasure crashing over her like a wave.

He wasn't far behind, his hips slamming into hers as he chased his own release. His fingers dug into her skin, his movements frantic, the sounds of their bodies coming together mingling with their ragged breaths. "Where do you want me?" he grunted, his voice strained, the effort to maintain his composure clear.

"Inside me, please" she gasped, her body still trembling from her orgasm.

He thrust deep, burying himself in her, and she could feel him pulse inside her as he came, his release mingling with hers. He collapsed against her, his chest pressed against her back, his weight a welcome comfort. They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies entwined, the euphoria of their climax lingering.

Eventually, he pulled out of her, his grip on her hips easing, his fingertips grazing her skin as if he was reluctant to let her go. Reality once again came crashing down. She was a mess, her dress bunched up at her hips, her legs still quivering, the evidence of their pleasure trickling down her thighs.

She turned to face him, the afterglow of their coupling slowly fading. Her mother was probably downstairs looking for her, there was no way she could meet her in her current state. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze, the intensity of his blue eyes too much to handle.

"I need to leave," she said, her voice quiet as she tried to tame her hair with her fingers.

He reached out and cupped her face, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze.

"Let me take you home," he said, his voice soft. "I know another way out. You don't have to face anyone right now."

Her mind raced with a thousand questions, but before she could speak, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

"Trust me, Y/N."

And against all reason, she did.

[callsigns-haze]

I love your Tyler stuff! I have so many ideas in my head I just suck at writing lol

Could you write something where tyler and reader are married and They are out filming having a good time there and the reader who normally rides in the front seat with tyler switched to go with Lilly last second so javi could join tyler and the tornado shifted out of nowhere and reader and Lilly were right in the path. Reader gets hurt from the the car flipping over and it takes awhile for the rest of the crew to find them and the whole time tyler is freaking out and almost in tears. They finally find them and you can end it how you want.

Not so cruising

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: During a storm chase, Y/N and Lilly are caught in a tornado after a last-minute seat swap, leading to a harrowing rescue by Tyler and the team, with Y/N injured but eventually safe.

Chapter Warning: Intense storm danger, car accident, and graphic descriptions of injuries.

The open road stretched out under the vast Oklahoma sky, the sun dipping low on the horizon as Y/N and Tyler cruised along, the truck’s engine humming steadily. The storm they’d been tracking all day was finally forming, and the anticipation in the air was electric. This was the thrill that had brought them together—two storm chasers with a passion for capturing nature’s most powerful and unpredictable displays.

Y/N normally rode shotgun with Tyler, the two of them an unstoppable team. But today, their crew had grown with the addition of Javi, an old friend and fellow chaser. Y/N noticed Lilly, their new meteorologist, looking a bit tense in the backseat. She decided to switch things up.

“You know what, Ty?” Y/N said with a grin. “I think I’ll keep Lilly company in the other car. Javi can ride with you.”

Tyler glanced over, surprised, but nodded. “Sure, if that’s what you want. Just be careful, okay?”

Y/N leaned in for a quick kiss before hopping out and heading over to the other SUV where Lilly was prepping her equipment. Javi climbed into the front seat of Tyler’s truck, the two men exchanging a few words before pulling away to follow the storm.

Y/N slid into the passenger seat next to Lilly, who smiled gratefully. “Thanks for joining me. I was feeling a little out of my depth with this one.”

“No problem,” Y/N replied, fastening her seatbelt. “Let’s go catch this beast.”

As they sped down the road, the sky above them began to churn. The storm had grown rapidly, dark clouds swirling ominously as lightning flashed in the distance. The radio crackled with updates from Tyler and Javi, who were just ahead, urging everyone to stay alert.

“We’ve got rotation,” Tyler’s voice came over the radio. “It’s starting to drop. Be ready to reposition.”

Lilly’s hands tightened on the wheel as she drove, following the lead vehicle closely. Y/N could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins—the thrill of the chase, the anticipation of capturing something incredible.

But as they continued, the storm suddenly shifted, the tornado’s path veering unexpectedly. Y/N looked up, her eyes widening in horror as she realized the funnel was now headed directly toward them.

“Lilly, we need to move!” Y/N shouted, her voice edged with urgency.

Lilly swerved, trying to steer the SUV out of the tornado’s path, but it was too late. The powerful winds hit them with full force, lifting the vehicle off the ground. The world outside became a blur of chaos as the SUV flipped over, tumbling violently. Y/N felt a searing pain as she was thrown against the door, her vision going dark for a moment before everything went still.

Tyler’s heart stopped when he heard the crash over the radio. Javi, sensing the gravity of the situation, immediately tried to raise Y/N and Lilly, but there was no response. Tyler’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios.

“Y/N, Lilly—do you copy? Y/N!” Tyler’s voice was thick with fear, almost breaking. When there was no answer, panic clawed at his chest.

“Ty, we have to go back!” Javi urged, his voice tense. “They could be in serious trouble.”

Tyler didn’t need convincing. He whipped the truck around, tires screeching on the wet pavement, and gunned it back toward where Y/N and Lilly had been. The wind howled around them, debris flying across the road as the storm raged on.

Minutes felt like hours as they raced against the tornado, Tyler’s mind filled with images of Y/N hurt—or worse. He could barely breathe, the fear suffocating him. He’d never felt so helpless, the thought of losing her driving him to the brink of despair.

Finally, they spotted the overturned SUV in a field, half-buried in mud and debris. The tornado had moved on, leaving behind a path of destruction, but Tyler’s focus was solely on the wrecked vehicle and the two people inside.

He barely registered Javi’s voice as they jumped out of the truck and ran to the SUV. Tyler’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he frantically yanked at the door, which was jammed from the impact. With Javi’s help, they managed to pry it open, revealing a grim scene inside.

Lilly was conscious, dazed but moving. She was bruised and shaken but seemed otherwise okay. Y/N, however, was slumped against the door, her face pale and a gash on her forehead bleeding steadily. Tyler’s breath caught in his throat as he reached out, his hands trembling.

“Y/N… Y/N, please…” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion as he gently cupped her face.

She stirred at his touch, her eyelids fluttering open. “Tyler…?”

Relief flooded through him so intensely that he almost collapsed. “I’m here, baby. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”

Javi was already on the phone with emergency services, coordinating their location. Tyler carefully unbuckled Y/N and pulled her from the wreckage, holding her close as she winced in pain.

“Just hang on, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice shaking. “Help’s on the way.”

She leaned against him, too weak to speak, but she clung to his hand as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality. Tyler could feel his tears welling up, but he held them back, focusing on keeping Y/N conscious and calm.

Lilly, despite her own injuries, managed to climb out of the SUV with Javi’s help. She was shaken but coherent, and she sat down on the grass beside Y/N, checking her over with what first-aid knowledge she had.

“Tyler,” Lilly said softly, her voice filled with sympathy. “She’s going to be okay. You got here in time.”

Tyler nodded, though the lump in his throat made it hard to speak. He didn’t trust himself to say anything without breaking down completely. Instead, he just held Y/N tightly, whispering reassurances and promises that everything would be okay.

The sound of approaching sirens was a welcome relief, and soon, paramedics were there, carefully taking Y/N from Tyler’s arms and loading her onto a stretcher. Tyler refused to leave her side, climbing into the ambulance with her, his hand never leaving hers.

As the ambulance sped toward the hospital, Tyler finally allowed himself to breathe. Y/N was alive, and she was going to get the care she needed. The fear that had gripped him so tightly began to ease, replaced by an overwhelming gratitude that they had found her in time.

Hours later, after what felt like an eternity in the hospital waiting room, Tyler was allowed to see Y/N. She was resting in a hospital bed, her head bandaged and her arm in a sling, but when she saw him, she managed a small, tired smile.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice weak but full of warmth.

Tyler moved to her side, sitting down and taking her hand in his. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” she admitted, wincing slightly. “But I’ll be okay. They said nothing’s broken, just a lot of bruises and a concussion.”

Tyler nodded, his eyes brimming with tears he could no longer hold back. “I was so scared, Y/N. I thought… I thought I was going to lose you.”

She squeezed his hand, her thumb brushing over his knuckles in a comforting gesture. “I’m still here, Ty. Thanks to you.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the day’s events settling over them. But now, in the safety of the hospital, with Y/N by his side, Tyler felt an immense sense of relief. They had faced the storm, and though they had come out battered and bruised, they were still together.

“I love you,” Tyler whispered, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“I love you too,” Y/N replied, her voice soft but sure. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

As they held each other close, the storm outside finally began to calm, the winds dying down as the skies cleared. The danger had passed, and now, all that mattered was that they were safe, together, and ready to face whatever came next—side by side.

Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

@katiemcrae

[cherry-leclerc]

dirty mouth ☆ cl16

genre: humor, fluff, a tiny bit of smut

word count: 2.5k

Winter break and your boyfriend convinces you to go with him for his annual training in preparation for the new season, and this unleashes a natural disaster when it comes to him.

req!… hope u guys enjoy a bit of pottymouth!charles lol

When your boyfriend first brought up the idea of you tagging along to his winter training you thought, yeah, it doesn’t sound half bad. Sitting by the fireplace - hot chocolate and an overdue book in hand…

“Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc I am going to kill you,” you screech as you slide down the fast hill, white snow flying all around you from the sudden speed. His heart races fast as he chases after you.

You had begged for hours for him to let you read in peace. It’s all about the experience, he would yodel as he pointed out the window where everyone was skiing. Come on, it’ll be fun. 

Given, you wanted him to stop moaning every second - not in that way at least - and so, you complied. “Oh, amore, you look so cute! Wait, hold on, let me take a picture.” 

“I look like a stupid snowman,” you growl as you look down at your ski suit. Wincing at the strong flash of his phone, you scrunch your nose. He frowns. 

“An adorable snowman.”

As soon as you stepped foot out, you wanted to punch him square in the face. It was so cold that for a moment you thought your limbs would give out. Joris giggles as he snaps a quick Polaroid of you pouting, cheeks the darkest shade a pink. You flip him off before turning to Charles. 

“You don’t love me.” He groans, already knowing this card all too well. You hum. “Nuh-uh, you don’t because if you did then you wouldn’t put me in this position.” A smirk slides onto his soft lips.

“Don’t worry, I know a position that will warm you up later.” Your jaw drops. Leaning down to press a kiss onto the tip of your nose, he continues. “And I do love you, don’t be ridiculous.” 

You realized he wasn’t going to give in to your pleas to let you turn back around, so you sucked it up and followed him and the boys. Andrea bumps his shoulder against yours, trying to get your attention. 

“Vous plaisantez j'espère?” you groan as you fall down into a pile of snow, unbalanced from his delicate nudge. His smile drops. Sorry, sorry! He checks to see if you’re hurt because Lord watch out if you are, Charles would kill him. 

“Questo é fantastico,” Joris mutters as he takes another picture. You bite the air. Andrea waves him off before helping you plunge through the snow. 

“Please don’t tell Charles,” he begs as you squint your eyes teasingly. Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m fine, aren’t I? Your boyfriend’ trainer silently thanks you. “I was just trying to ask if you were ready?” He wiggles his dark brows. 

“Ready for what?” You look around. “To freeze my ass off?” He stops dead in his tracks. “Oh! You mean to go to the bunny slope!” Cheerfully, you clap, wide grin stretched onto your lips. “I’m kind of scared, but it’s for beginners so I think I’ll be okay. Plus, you guys will all be there.”

Andrea shakes his head, almost seeming disappointed. “Charles, Charles, Charles…”

“Charles what?” 

“We’re here!” Looking up at your boyfriend, he buzzes as he points up at the ski lift. Your smile drops. Angrily, you struggle to make your way up to him before smacking his shoulder. 

“You said the bunny slope!”

He grimaces. “I know, I know, but you need to feel the rush!” He tries to kiss you but you swiftly turn your head causing him to smack his lips right onto your helmet. “I know you’re mad-”

“Of course I’m mad, you lied. I can’t go up there.” Huffing, you cross your arms. He winces at your tone. 

“Chérie, but I’ll be there with you! Joris, Andrea, Antonio, me…” He coolly raises his brows. “We’ll keep you safe.” 

You scoff. “Better start planning my funeral.”

“You’ll be fine, let’s go.”

-

“Alright baby, bend your knees - come on - you know how to do that,” he teases with a cocky tone. The boys groan as they cover their ears and you burn bright red. He throws his head back laughing as he continues. “Lean a bit toward, too.” He suppresses another dirty joke when you throw the ski poles all frustrated.

“I’m not doing this if you keep this up.” 

“Okay, okay, I’m done,” he promises as he hands them back to you. After a bit more coaching from all of them, you nod. 

“Lots of mansplaining, but I guess I could give it a shot.” You narrow your eyes at your friends. “Promise you guys will go after me if I can’t stop?” 

Promise, they repeat in unison. 

“Pro?” a teenage boy asks as he looks you up and down. Charles clenches his jaw as he steps in. She is. His voice comes out harsh and the worker just raises his arms up in defense before winking over at you. Have fun. 

Dragging you away, you squeal as you try to keep up. “He was only being nice!” Nice my ass, he sourly grunts as he makes sure your feet are secure. You pout. “And I’m not a professional, you stinky liar.” You roll your eyes. “Guess that’s all you know how to do today - lie.”

Playfully, he mimics your movements, then he smacks your ass. “Be a good girl and show us all what you learned.” You squirm at his words before nodding. 

Knees slightly bent, like how they are when you bounce up and down around his thick cock.

Lean forward, like when you press your naked chest against his own and he kisses you until your lips burn out. 

Everything somehow led back to moments between you and the Monegasque and maybe that’s what made you far too unfocused that you missed your step and started sliding down the hill before you even had a chance to notice. 

“Guys!” you wail as you fly past by them with their jaws on the floor. “You group of liars!” 

The brunette quickly snaps out of it and chases after you, avidly skiing past other skiers. Andrea, Joris and Antonio all follow after him as they breath heavily. 

“Turn, baby, turn,” Charles screeches as he clumsily throws out reminders of what he taught you on how to come to a halt. Shift your body weight! 

Shutting your eyes for a brief second, you send a quick prayer to the man up above and curse your boyfriend for a lifetime. “I can’t do it, I’m sca- agh!” 

You’re barely able to safely swoosh past a group of boys as they all yell at you. Charles flips them off before sliding past them. 

“Smile!” Joris demands as he clicks his camera. You little bitch, you shout. Help me, douchebag! “Right.” He’s just about to catch you when all of a sudden he loses his place and falls. “Oh, allez!” 

Then comes Antonio who as much as he tries to help, he can’t seem to get close enough. Charles huffs a puff of cold air. “Just grab her!” She keeps getting away, his friend pants. 

And Andrea isn’t really trying but he’s definitely in for adrenaline as he cheers for his friends like their own personal cheerleader. Oh, so close! 

Joris eventually catches up but can’t do much anymore, apart from start recording. He laughs as you zigzag, arms momentarily flinging through the air. 

“No! Keep them still!” Charles yelps, terrified to see you hurt yourself. 

“I’m never listening to you ever again, Charles! You never think when it comes to these things, do you?” You tremble from the icy breeze. “Noooo, he never does! Because all he thinks about is fun, fun, fun, fu-”

Next thing you know, you’re crashing into a chunk of snow as you groan from the sudden stop, but nothing hurts. “Oh thank God,” you let out. Patting yourself down, you squint your eyes at the group of men who ease their pace as they grow closer to you. “Dickheads.” You look around. “Where’s Charles?”

Hearing the shutter of a camera go off, you tilt your head in confusion. “Oh yeah,” Joris gasps. “This is definitely going to be shown at your guys’ wedding.”

Feeling something twitch underneath you, you squeal with panic as you try jumping up but only hear a ring of grunts. And you recognize them like the back of your hand. 

“Charles?” Taking off his helmet abruptly, he heaves. As soon as he catches his breath, he touches your face carefully. Are you hurt? Are you okay? You throw your arms over him like a koala and kiss his clothed neck. “What do you mean, am I okay, what about you?” He shrugs it off.

“As long as you are.” 

You swoon before swatting him all over his chest. This is pure gold, Joris adds as he continues recording. 

“Men are all dirty, filthy, scrummy, stupid liars,” you hissed as his large hands tried to ease your hits. “You said you guys would help me!” 

His eyes darken. “What do you call what I just did? I basically gave my life for you!” He brushes white snow off his lashes. “I’m lucky to be alive, you brat.”

Dinner that night is filled with snarky remarks from Charles and strong bickering from you. 

“If you hadn’t forced me then I wouldn’t be bitching about it!”

His right eye twitches for a split second. “I already said I was sorry! I saved you, be a little thankful.”

The group of friends could tell the tension was growing thicker between the couple as they munch on their food quietly. He just doesn’t have a single cell to help him think about the consequences, you mumble as you bite down on a brussels sprout. 

“You know what? How about we all just relax?” Andrea tried to lessen the rigid behavior of his two friends. “How does a trip to the hot tub sound?”

-

The Monegasque stiffens as soon as you walk out with your tiny bikini. You were a quivering mess, which made you cross your arms to try and warm yourself up, which in return ruined your boyfriend's sanity. He was practically drooling like a dog at the sight of your perfect tits being pressed up. 

In a singular motion, Charles removes his shirt, leaving him in only his swim shorts. His large bulge increases your heart tempo as you remind yourself to keep cool since Joris and the rest were still around. 

“Mierde, you know what? I forgot the towels.” Joris turns to Andrea and Antonio. “Do you guys mind helping me?” They patiently nod before making their way back into the cabin. 

Teeth chattering is all he could hear coming from you, white rings flying in the air as you let out shaky breaths. His arms itch to bring you in and it’s not until he looks into your loopy eyes that he sighs and makes his way over.

He towers over you as his arms wrap around you like the warmest blanket to ever exist. “Are you still mad?” Despite letting him touch you, you still keep your face straight, not letting him be able to read you. “Chérie-”

“I want to get in,” you cut him, creating distance as you dip your toe in first into the hot tub and then the rest. Annoyed, he tsks his tongue before doing the same. Be like that then. 

Click. 

Turning fast to face the glass door, you vividly catch a glimpse of your friends locking it and closing the curtains. Make amends, Andrea yells out like a strict parent. 

“Connards!” Splashing your hands onto the water as a mini tantrum, you moan. The green eyed boy keeps quiet as he watches you. “What are you looking at?” you hiss. Nothing.

You think about climbing out and trying to find a way back in but the hot water feels too good so you decide against it, choosing to enjoy the sensation. As soon as you close your eyes, the brunette starts whistling. 

At first you try to tune him out, but it only gets louder from there. Theme From A Summer Place. You recognize it in less than a second. It’s what he always plays for you on the piano as you bake him snickerdoodles. Whether it’s summer or not - it’s a routine. 

Your silly resentment grows smaller with every curve his tongue travels through, soft symphonies somehow making you feel more cozy than the actual hot tub. 

He could hear the way you tread through the water, but it still catches him by surprise as you climb onto his lap, graceful fingers pushing his long hair back a bit. 

“I’m sorry for being a bitch today.” 

He chuckles deeply, leaning up to kiss your wet lips. “I’m sorry for almost killing you.” He drums his fingers against your thigh. “It scared me when you lost control…I should’ve just let you stay back.”

“It wasn't right for you to assume that I would be fine skipping the bunny slope and jumping straight into that, but I know you meant no harm.” His jaw ticks. 

“Of course I meant no harm, are you kidding me? You dragged my heart along with you when you flew down that hill.” You giggle sweetly, strands of hair sliding off your shoulders. He smiles. 

“It’s not entirely your fault.” He quirks his left eyebrow. Blushing, you begin playing with the droplets that sprinkle across his chest. “My mind went…” He whistles seductively. You nod, avoiding his green stare. “Yup.”

“It’s normal, no? I mean you are my girlfriend.” 

“But not in a moment like that, Charles! We all nearly died,” you wheeze as you shift on his lap. He grunts. 

“And yet, we didn’t.” Turned on by everything about you, he angles his head upward before linking his pink lips to yours. Water droplets tickle your chin as he moves his mouth against your own. Your body temperature increasingly grows heated and not just from the hot tub. 

The way he kisses you with such urgency is enough to make your head spin, as if he’s been away for years and just barely got the opportunity to enjoy your pillowy lips. Slowly, you circle your hips as he groans, hands pinching you in return as he grows harder. 

“God, I’m so glad you didn’t die,” he mumbles in between your lips. Laughing, you vibrate against him as he cringes at the sudden change. “Anddd you ruined it.” You poke your tongue out.

“Don’t say perverted things then!” 

His stare drops. “How is that perverted?”

Shrugging, you climb off his lips as you press a warm kiss against his stubble. “Teasing, Mr. Leclerc. But how about we go up to bed?” 

His eyes crinkle at your simple words. “Shoot me in the head if I ever say no to that.” Splashing out of the pool, you giggle as he grabs you, kissing every inch of your glowy skin.

-

Headboard hits the wall strong and fast as you cry out against his chest, groans flying past his lips as he circles his fingers against your swollen clit. 

From downstairs, the boys grab Charles’ car keys as they hurry out the door.

“Andrea, what were you thinking?”

[stevieschrodinger]

for @brazenliar

Part One Two Three

tw; childbirth

Eddie’s never moved this fast in his life; keys, phone, wallet, one quick mouthful of now cold chicken off his dinner plate, jacket, crocs off, sneakers on and he’s out the door.

Eddie carries Steve’s bag and the car seat, the towel rolled up under his arm, while Steve waddles along besides him.

He has to stop occasionally to take some deep breaths, obviously in pain, but it doesn’t take that long to get to the van. Eddie sets the towel on the passenger seat, rolling his eyes as Steve insist on it. Once he’s settled, Steve calls Robin and explains the new plan. Chrissy’s on her way apparently, so it shouldn’t be too long.

Eddie’s never been a nervous driver. Eddie’s never been in an accident that was his fault. He got rear ended one time and the bumper fell off, but that was about it. But now; this journey? Eddie’s driving like there’s a very full jug of gravy strapped into the passenger seat.

It’s a huge relief when they make it to the hospital. Eddie just throws the van into one of the spots out front; he’s not sure if he’s even allowed to park there but, honestly, fuck it. If he gets a fine he gets a fine.

Steve’s taking some awfully deep breaths and white knuckling his seatbelt strap, but otherwise seems okay. Just scents a little nervous mostly, a little scared, but Eddie can’t really blame him for that at all.

Once Eddie carefully wrangles Steve out of the van, he realizes Steve was absolutely right because, to be fair, Steve has left a fair old mark on the towel, so maybe Eddie will let him off for insisting.

Eddie leaves the carseat, figuring he can grab that in a bit – it leaves him a free hand for Steve to hold on to while they walk – and waddle – into the hospital.

They get directed to wait until a nurse can come down with a wheel chair, but in a sharp and really, really uncharacteristic show of temper, Steve snaps at the lady behind the desk that ‘he can walk, thank you very much. He is in labor, he is not incapable!’ And for the first time ever, Eddie scents the spicy scent of Steve's irritation.

She looks at Steve dubiously, but directs them in the right direction. Eddie is incredibly relieved that a nurse with a wheelchair meets them half way anyway, Steve still refuses to sit in it, so she follows along just in case she’s needed.

She seems really nice, from what Eddie can tell, and when Eddie looks over at her, she mouths a clear, ‘don’t worry,’ with a smile on her face, so Eddie figures this is all cool or normal or whatever.

Especially since Eddie has not a fucking clue what to expect here.

They make it to a set of doors with a keypad; the nurse lets them in. It makes a lot of sense, and gets rid of a worry Eddie didn’t even know he had; Steve’s going to be safe here. This bit of the hospital is extra secure for Steve and the pup.

“Eddie,” Steve stops walking, “there’s something-” and then Steve makes an unholy noise, doubling over as yet more bloody liquid gushes out of him. It’s like when the elevator doors open in the shining. Or that bit at the end of Carrie.

No it isn’t. It isn’t anywhere near that bad, it just looks like it is since there looks like there’s a lot of it and the fact that it's coming out of Steve probably makes it look worse than it really is.

Steve’s sneakers are going to be fucked, Eddie thinks absently, while having his hand near as damn snapped in half. There’s a nurse there with some sort of absorbent padding, thin blue plastic on one side, and white diamond pattern of white padding on the other, “don’t worry, we got you.”

Steve starts to list to the side, Eddie drops the overnight bag to come in front, Steve flailing and grabbing Eddie’s other hand as he pants his way through something that looks pretty fucking painful from a spectators point of view.

“Okay Mr. Harrington, I have to have a look.”

“Need the chair?” Nurse number one asks.

“Nope, way too late for that, he’s crowning,” and then suddenly a lot happens all at once. There’s another nurse there suddenly, gloved up and wearing an apron. Steve drags Eddie down with him as he sinks to his knees.

“Okay Mr. Harrington, you’re going to feel the urge to push on your contraction, you go ahead and do that when it feels right.”

Steve’s clawing at Eddie, his hands move for purchase on Eddie’s shoulders, “Eddie, I don’t want to have my baby in the fucking hallway,” he pants, face buried against Eddie’s shoulder.

“Uhm, not sure we can stop it,” Eddie says really really unhelpfully, right as Steve growls out a sound Eddie didn’t even know Omega’s could even make.

Eddie's forced to have his chin hooked over Steve's shoulder due to their positions, and that means Eddie's looking straight down Steve's back; he has front row seats for what happens next.

The nurses are all talking to each other, and they're all pretty calm, like this is a normal day at the office, except for when one of them shouts for something...and then there’s a baby. it just sort of slips free of Steve's body, like a magic trick, Steve making another one of those noises right in Eddie's ear.

The pup is crying and one of the nurses says, “is that a new record?”

A different one replies, “nah, there was that lady who only made it into the lobby.”

Eddie stares in wonder. And also, a bit in horror. It’s a boy, very definitely a boy, in fact. Eddie’s instinct is that Steve’s just given birth to an Alpha. One who’s covered in gack and blood, and he’s waving his arms and legs around like he doesn’t know what to do with all the space he’s suddenly got. He’s kind of covered in whitish slime, and he has got a lot of hair. Like a lot.

And there is absolutely nothing wrong with his lungs.

“Are they okay? Eddie, please- is-”

“Yeah,” Eddie comes back to earth with a bump, Steve whispering in his ear, Eddie watches the nurse tie off and cut the umbilical, “yeah he’s absolutely fine Steve.”

“He?” Steve sobs against Eddie’s neck.

Eddie watches as a nurse kind of randomly sticks her fingers in the babies mouth, and then they’re taking him away and Eddie is not at all fucking happy about that but is distracted again by a nurse.

“Okay Mr. Harrington, once more and you’re done.”

For a split second, Eddie thinks Steve’s having twins, but then he finds out the placenta is a whole other thing that needs to happen.

Every day’s a school day.

Eddie’s kneeling on a hallway floor, taking half of Steve’s weight, and Steve’s just had a pup. Steve snuffles at Eddie’s neck, and Eddie is flooded with a bone deep certainty that he is exactly where he’s supposed to be.

“Eddie, I have to get up.”

“Okay. Okay, yeah.”

Eddie helps, making it half way before wheelchair nurse is back, and Eddie helps Steve, really gingerly and a little awkward, settle into the chair.

“Where is he?”

“They’re just cleaning him up, lets get you onto a bed and he’ll be there.”

Steve just...strips in front of Eddie. Eddie catches stretchmarks and then the curve of Steve’s ass as he climbs into bed, and then, true to their word, swaddled in a hospital blanket, the baby is half unwrapped so that they are skin to skin, and deposited onto Steve’s chest, “seven pound four,” she tells Steve.

She waits, making sure Steve doesn’t have any problems with the baby ‘latching’ – which Eddie works out is the proper word for the little guy getting on Steve’s nip – and then she goes to get Steve some water and pain relief.

Eddie just stands there, next to the bed, quietly amazed. It’s like the whole world just shifted a little to the left; this tiny thing suckling at Steve’s rounded chest is just...suddenly the most precious thing in the world. Steve's got a fair bit of chest hair for an Omega; Eddie cannot stop staring at where the tiny pups fingers are gripping at it as he suckles.

“Steve,” Steve looks up, he looks tired, and a little washed out, but so fucking happy, “congratulations.”

Steve smiles, “thanks Eddie.”

“So what are you going to name him?”

Steve’s had a drink, some pain meds, and been inspected by a doctor. Eddie was aloud to sit in the arm chair and hold the little pup while Steve got checked out and...he didn’t cry, but it was close. The scent of pup seems to have already ingrained itself on Eddie’s soul.

He’s asleep now, and neither of them can stop staring at him, they talk in whispers.

“I don't know, I thought I’d just...see them and know, somehow.”

Eddie hums, thinking. “How about Ronnie James?”

“Uh hu. And who is that?”

“Ronnie James Dio Steve, only the greatest musical talent of all time.”

Steve sighs, “I like James.”

“Yeah?”

“Jamie, yeah, James Robin Harrington, what do you think?”

“I mean...I’m kind of biased but yeah. Yeah I like it.”

“Oh my god. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod Steve.”

“Hey, Robbie.”

Robin comes into the room slowly, and Eddie can tell she’s barely holding back, “I missed it. Oh I’m so sorry I missed it I-”

“Hey it’s okay, honestly it happened so fast I nearly missed it.”

They keep chatting, Robin apologizing and then, crying. And then Steve starts crying. And Robins saying she’s so proud and they’re scenting each other and Robin's scenting the pup and then they’re crying again and Steve’s telling her the name and then that’s a whole thing because Robin didn’t know about the middle name, apparently-

A blonde beta female has sidled up to Eddie, “I’m Chrissy, Eddie, right?”

“Yeah, nice to finally meet you.”

“Yeah same and...this,” she vaguely indicates where Robin and Steve are now, cuddled on the bed with the pup, “we just have to let this happen, you want to grab a coffee?”

Eddie doesn’t want to leave, he wants to climb into bed with his mate and his pup and never leave them, but he also recognizes that instinct for what it is; batshit. “I’d fucking love one.”

[hemmingsleclerc]

i don’t know if u do request or not. but if you do could u wrote a dad!maxverstappen oneshot where mom!reader’s 4-6 ur old daughter doesn’t want to take a shower, so she interrupts max’s stream. i got this idea for that one stream a few days ago and i can’t get it out of my head. please and thank you🤍

Bath Time ┃MV1

Pairing: Dad!Maxverstappen x mom!reader

Warnings: none

It was a sunny afternoon and Max was enjoying a rare moment of downtime. He decided to start his Twitch stream, giving his fans an insight into his life off the court. While Max chatted with his audience while playing f1 '23, his girlfriend Y/N was facing a small but important domestic challenge.

Her 4-year-old daughter, Olivia, was in the middle of a heated confrontation with her mother. The battlefield? The bathroom. Olivia steadfastly refused to take a shower, asserting her independence with all the determination a toddler could muster.

In the Verstappen house, Y/N took charge of parenting duties and was not one to back down easily. As she tried to convince Liv to go to the bathroom, the girl's cries grew louder and echoed through the hallways of the large house.

Max, sitting in his gaming chair with headphones on, was mid-sentence, talking about his recent run when he heard the commotion. He frowned and removed an earpiece to capture the growing drama outside the room.

Y/N, with a mix of frustration and patience, shouted, "Via, it's time to shower, honey. Let's go now."

But Olivia wanted nothing to do with that. She broke free of Y/N's grip and her little feet scampered across the polished floor. Bursting into Max's gaming room, she threw herself onto his lap, tears streaming down her face.

"Daddy, I don't wanna take a shower! Tell Mommy I wanna stay with you!" Olivia's words tumbled out between sobs.

Max, caught off guard by the sudden intrusion, looked at the camera with a bewildered expression. He chuckled as he realized his Twitch audience was witnessing a moment of fatherhood live.

"Uh, guys, it seems we have a little situation here," Max said, his eyes meeting the camera with a grin.

Following her, Y/N entered the room with an exasperated sigh. "Max, please. I need your help. Liv, it's just a quick shower, and then you can come back and hang out with dad, okay?"

Olivia, however, clung to Max and her screams turned to sobs. Max, always the good sport, put his arms around her, rubbing her back, trying to calm her little girl down, trying to stifle his laughter.

But since the door was still open, the cats ran into the room and climbed onto a small couch Max had somewhere in the room, starting to fight, causing more commotion to the whole thing.

Max was trying to calm his daughter when his words were interrupted by the loud sound of his country's national anthem, realizing that he was still live, and only managed to cover his face with both hands while his daughter continued crying, clinging to his neck and his girlfriend was trying to stop the cats from causing more damage.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh when she saw the scene that was unfolding. Everything had gotten out of control. Once she got the cats out of the room she couldn't help but smile as she saw the scene in front of her. Max, was now a comforting refuge for her daughter from the dreaded shower. The Twitch chat erupted with a mix of emojis and comments, turning the unexpected family moment into an endearing moment for Max's fans.

And so, with a little coaxing and a lot of laughing, Olivia finally agreed to take a shower, safe in the knowledge that more playtime with Dad awaited her afterwards. As Y/N led Via away, Max couldn't help but shake his head with a smile, realizing that even in the world of fast cars and competitive racing, family moments took center stage.

there you go love💗🤭 hope you like it

[helaintoloki]

can you do a five x reader where in the season finale of s3 you don’t come out of the elevator and five is devastated so he does anything in his power to found you again but when he does you’ve clearly moved on

a/n: so i couldn’t come up with an explanation for why reader would just move on instead of looking for five so i added an extra layer to this request

warnings: angst

summary: after being separated in the new timeline, Five does everything in his power to find you only to realize he’s too late

He couldn’t believe he’d finally done it.

After three years of searching, three years of following false leads and dead ends, three years of tearing himself apart trying to fix the mess his father and Allison had created, he’d found you.

Five could never put into words how much he loved you and how much of an effect you had on his entire being. You were the girl from his childhood, his first and only love that he fought tirelessly to get back to when stranded in the apocalypse, the girl who’s photo from an old magazine article he kept on him at all times.

Little about you had changed when he made his way back to the past to stop the impending apocalypse. You still had the same smile, the same laugh, the same appearance- your powers kept you forever young, a gift that was both a blessing and a curse depending on the day- and the same love for him in your heart that had blossomed when you were thirteen and naive about where the future would lead you. Falling back into your old routine together had been as easy as breathing, and from then on you both were inseparable. Five knew he could always count on you no matter what new challenge was thrown your way or what new problem you had to face. He vowed never to let you go ever again, but fate had other plans.

After arriving in this new timeline, Five had been quick to notice the fact that you were no longer by his side. Despite holding your hand in that elevator, you were nowhere to be seen when he’d stepped out with the rest of his siblings. Not only were his powers gone, but you were as well, and he had no idea where you could possibly be. He could feel the panic in his chest rising as if a fist was gripping his heart and slowly squeezing with each passing second, and the lack of control he felt in that moment was torturous. However, he only let himself spiral for a moment before immediately beginning to devise a search and rescue. Five would not stop until you were found and back safe in his arms.

And now here he was, standing dumbfounded in front of the entrance to a quiet cafe where you were waiting tables and completely oblivious to the pair of eyes watching you through the windows.

Your smile is still as warm as ever as you greet patrons and serve them their meals, asking about their days and laughing at their jokes even if they aren’t all that funny. Despite being on your own for three years, you seem to be doing quite well for yourself. But then Five notices something that makes his heart skip a beat and his palms perspire with nerves.

Your features have changed and in the time that’s passed it looks as though you’ve actually aged, something that was once thought to be impossible. Without your powers in this timeline, it makes sense that you would begin to grow into the looks of an older adult instead of permanently being stuck in a teenage girl’s body. He knows it’s something you’ve always wanted, and it’s a comforting thought to at least know that in this new setting you can have the life you’ve always wanted to have.

The bell above the door jingles loudly as Five bursts into the cafe and meets your gaze. Your eyes connect from across the room, Five’s breath hitching in his throat as you begin to walk towards him with an unwavering smile. He’s finally found you, and now he can rest easily knowing this whole mess is finally over.

“Y/n,” he utters through a trembling breath, fingers twitching at his sides in eager anticipation at being able to hold you once again. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

“Hi,” you greet with a polite smile, “dining in or ordering to-go?”

“W-What?” Five breathes out as his brows begin to furl in confusion. He takes a hesitant step back when you step forward, unsure of himself and of your behavior.

“Dining in or ordering to-go?” You repeat before glancing over your shoulder in search of an available table. “If you’re dining in it’s going to be about a five minute wait.”

“Y/n, don’t- don’t you recognize me? It’s Five,” He says almost desperately, his chest beginning to tighten in panic at your uncharacteristic behavior. The girl he knew would have been ecstatic to see him; she would have dropped everything to express how grateful she was to see him again before scolding him for getting her into another time travel related mess. Why weren’t you happy to see him?

“I’m sorry, I think you might have me mistaken for someone else,” you correct him with a sheepish smile, completely oblivious to the fact that you’ve just completely crushed his heart in your hands and taken away the one thing in this world he cherishes most. “I’ll go see if there’s a table available for you, okay?”

You leave him there completely heartbroken and disoriented as he’s left to wonder what went wrong. You’re alive in this timeline, able to age and live a normal life, but it comes at the cost of the memories from your past life. You have no idea who he is here, what you’ve been through together, how much he loves you and would do anything for you.

In every life, every timeline, you are everything to Five. But in this life, he’s nothing more to you than a man coming into your cafe for a bite to eat.

And it destroys him.

[spaghettiposts]

Unspoken Truths

Summery: You and Wanda have been friends for years, but never once has she showed up at your doorstep in this state. Pregnant, alone, and hurt. You take her in and you both dive into the difficulties of pregnancy, and hiding feelings.

Warnings: Pregnancy, Dickhead Vision, Friends to lovers, Attempts at comedy, Reader being a sweetheart like always, Mutual Pinning, Faint talks of Abortion, talks of nausea and vomiting.

Words: 4k

There was a knock at the door. Which was weird since it was- what time was it? 

Your arm reached for your phone resting on the bedside table. 2:04 am. Your brows furrowed in confusion, feeling discomfort. Who would be knocking at your door at 2 in the morning? Wiping your eyes you rose to your feet, questioning if this was really worth getting up for. 

Slowly you found your courage, and a baseball bat in your hands. You stumbled through the hallway, trying to wake yourself up to face the potential threat at your door. You felt like you were walking right into a classic horror scene, was it Ghostface maybe? Nah he’d call, you think. 

Through the peephole you saw the last person you’d ever expect at this ungodly hour.

“Wanda?” You yawned, hand still on the door. “It’s 2 in the morn- Woah.” You grunted in surprise as her arms wrapped around your waist, instinctively you wrapped your arms around her too. Your surprise quickly shifted into concern at her small sniffles, the brunette tightly gripping at your shirt. “Wanda? What’s wrong?”

The girl in your arms said nothing, merely shaking her head against your shirt. You took that as your cue to close the door behind you, leading Wanda inside. Not once did you separate from her, allowing her to cling onto you. Despite the circumstances you couldn’t help the blush from rising. 

Unfortunately you don’t dwell on how nice it feels to be hugging Wanda, not now, not when she’s still crying. Removing an arm around her, you place it on the small of her back. “Why don’t we go sit on the couch?” 

It’s then that Wanda realizes her current position, she takes a shuddering breath, agreeing with a nod of her head. You ignore the flutter in your chest from the way her grip tightened on your forearm as you lead the way. 

When you sit on the couch Wanda follows suit, sitting a safe distance away from you. You figure she’s composing her thoughts from the way she plays with the rings on her fingers. 

Without thinking you reach for her hand, missing the way her breath hitches from the contact. “What’s wrong Wanda? You can tell me.” 

The brunette looks up at you through tearful eyes, she only feels herself tear up further by the look you give her. An adoring look, a soft comforting smile. It hurts to look at, it hurts even more when your eyebrows furrow. 

“You don’t have to talk about it if it’s bothering you so much…” You add, she’s quick to wipe her eyes and take a deep breath.

“Y/n, I’m pregnant.” She sighs out, feeling some relief. She cringes at the way your eyes widen in surprise. Now you were certainly awake.

Out of all the things Wanda would say, that was certainly not one you would’ve predicted. Pregnant. Of course you could see Wanda being a mom but you recalled her mentioning how she’d like to finish college first.

Clearly…that didn’t happen.

“I just found out.” Wanda let out one of many sighs to come, rubbing her swollen eyes with her hoodie sleeves. She leaned back on the couch, giving you a forced smile.

You remained flabbergasted. Pregnant.

Wanda was pregnant. And came to you. For comfort? Advice? A secret revelation that your love for her was strong enough to get her pregnant? That last one was still part of your sleepy brain talking. 

You had many questions, the most important one was where was the father? You assumed Vision was the father, at least. Even if part of you didn’t like that idea so much. 

Taking in consideration how the brunette arrived at your house, with red bloodshot eyes, and tear stains on her cheeks from crying so much. You worded your next question carefully. “I’m assuming it’s bad?”

A watery laugh escapes her lips, she shakes her head in disbelief. “Bad is an understatement.” And although she’s laughing, her eyes continue to water until she’s tired of pretending everything’s going okay. Her crying turns to sobs, leaning against you for support again. This time you don’t disconnect, letting her rest her weight on you.

You stare up at the ceiling, Wanda laying on your chest having fallen fast asleep. The couch is comfortable enough to make you feel better, but not enough to silence your worries for the woman on top of you. Unsure of what to think you simply conclude it’s best if you don’t, not right now. 

Letting out a deep breath, you close your eyes, tightening your arms around the girl.

Tomorrow, tomorrow you could talk about it.

/-/

It was tomorrow, and you were dreading talking about it. It’s not even yours, chill out, you reminded yourself. First thing you woke up to was an empty couch, with just you laying on it. Where was Wanda?  Rubbing your eyes to wake up fully you noticed the small sticky note on your arm. 

Turning it around revealed Wanda’s whereabouts.

I wanted to make you breakfast, so I went to the market. Your pantry sucks ♥️ 

Okay, breakfast. You loved Wanda’s meals, you figured the least you could do was clean up the kitchen for her. Forcing yourself to get up you threw your arms over your head, letting your back pop. Looking towards the kitchen in all honesty it didn’t look too bad. 

Just some pots that needed to be cleaned, remove the grease. A bag of flour on the counter…you didn’t quite remember why and how that was there. And a sock on the stovetop, you held it up in disgust. When did that get there? 

Feeling embarrassed for yourself, you got to work. Quickly. Socks were placed in the hamper. Flour, back in the pantry in its designated compartment. Then you dropped some flour, falling all over yourself and the items around you.

“Great…” you muttered, eying all the powder on the floor. 

Sweeping it is. 

Aside from the mess, and making more of a mess things went quite smoothly. You were satisfied with your work, the kitchen looked like a kitchen again. However pots still remained, making quick work of them you rinsed them off. 

Not noticing how the front door opened and a certain brunette looked your way. She smiled fondly at the small cusses you let out, shaking your hand from the hot water. Carefully she placed down all the grocery bags, a little louder than she intended.

“Oh shit!” You gasped, dropping the pot. “Wanda! You scared me.” You chuckled, turning off the tap, you could finish washing that later.

“You bought a lot…” You pointed out, drying your hands. Six paper bags were on the table, you were very glad you took time to clean it. 

Wanda snorted, unloading the frozen products from one bag. “Y/n you didn’t even have tomatoes. Absolutely no produce.” 

You rolled your eyes. You never cooked much, tomatoes would’ve gone bad under your care. Wanda on the other hand lived for cooking. A perfect balance in your opinion, she could cook, and you could taste. You walked over, taking the frozen foods from her hands to put them away, ignoring the pointed look.

She muttered something about your organizational skills—lack of. Probably a complaint.

“How much was it?” You asked from the freezer.

Does cheese go in there?

“It’s on me.” She shrugged, opening the onions and placing them in the basket. Her nose crinkled watching you attempt to be useful, gently her fingers wrapped around your wrist, taking the cheese away and putting it in the fridge. 

You let out a shaky exhale from the contact, watching her walk away. Shaking off the feeling you remember her words, scrunching your face. “No Wanda, how much?”  Pulling out your wallet you handed her $120 “Here.”

Wanda laughed, pushing your hand away “No. It’s on me. For last night.”

“Seriously?” You scoffed not believing it, waving the money at her. If she wouldn’t take it you knew you’d have to put it in her purse when she wasn’t looking. Like usual. “Well at least let me cook if you’re not gonna take it.”

“I said I was making breakfast!” She whined. Cute.

You pouted at your friend, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “Yeah but I want to do something…”

Wanda smiled, placing a hand on your forearm. “You’ve done enough for me.” She said, leaning up to place a small peck on your cheek. “Thank you Y/n.”

Your breath caught in your throat, knowing you didn’t win this battle. Of course not, she cheated, but she didn’t know that. She’s with Vision, having no clue of the effects she has on you. You still felt hot on the inside, and were probably blushing on the outside too.

Damnit Y/n pull it together, she’s pregnant and needs your support. Not your gayness.

Once everything was put away, mainly Wanda doing the work and correcting whatever you did wrong. She pushed you down on the chair, telling you to sit while she cooked. Then you could talk, talk.

Right, the talk.

Fuck. 

You wondered why you were still so nervous. Around Wanda? Well that one was given. But a pregnant Wanda? That felt…odd. Nevertheless you gave her, her space not wanting to overwhelm the pregnant person. 

She didn’t look pregnant…obviously. She just found out…hasn't even been a month. God was it hot in this room? Or were you just sweating? Nervous. 

“It is Visions.” You turned your head to look at Wanda. She spoke calmly with a tense figure. She flipped the bacon, turning her eyes to you. “And- You know I didn’t want…kids right now but things happen. We’ve talked about it before and Vision said he’d love that.”

You tilted your head, knowing there was more to it.

She let out a shaky breath “After college, he's still building his business a-and he said he doesn’t have time to raise a family. He wants nothing to do with them but I-“

“Abortion isn’t…?”

“No.” She said firmly, turning off the stove, using her sleeves to wipe her blurred eyes. “Your bacon might be a little salty by the way.” She smiled sadly, handing you a plate with two pancakes.

Seeing past the smile, you squeezed her arm in understanding, grabbing the plate from her hands. She sat down across from you, eating from her own plate giving you the opportunity to do the same. 

“These are great Wands.” You mumbled after swallowing your food, wiping your mouth. “You’d be a good mom.” Digging your fork into the pancakes for more. They were truly delicious, you don’t think you’d ever get used to how spectacular she made them. 

Wanda gave you a scrunched look, a sheepish smile on her lips. “You’re just saying that.” She shrugged it off, ignoring the way it made her feel.

“I'm not though. You’re kind, patient, compassionate, giving, and understanding. Aren't those motherly qualities?” You teased, though your tone remained reassuring. 

Still Wanda remained in disbelief, shaking her head lightly letting out a breathy laugh “I’m just not sure where to go from here. I’m keeping them.” She stared at you, seriously, as if you would try to change her mind. 

“But that’s all I know.” She rubbed her head with her hands, feeling frustrated. She had no plan.

You reached over for Wanda’s hand, rubbing soft circles with your thumb. “It’s okay, we can figure it out together.”

Her mouth curved into a smile, looking at both of your hands. Together, that was a nice word. Then she took in what you said, her head tilting to the side. “We?”

Wanda’s smile turned into a teasing one, as you stammered over your words, tensing your hand from their ministrations. “Well yeah I mean since Vision isn’t really in the picture and you shared the apartment with him I’m assuming- offering if you wanted to stay with me.” You bit the inside of your cheek.

Smooth.  

“It was just a thought I had…” You finished, feeling intimidated by her gaze. Your heart pounded against your chest, waiting for her answer. You had basically just proposed she move in with you, with a kid. Like couples do. With a kid. 

The more you thought about it the more you wanted her to say yes. You wanted to care for her, god knows she needed it. An idea came into your head about rearranging the guest bedroom into Wanda’s, only if she said yes- god we’re getting ahead of ourselves what if she says n-

“Yes.” She blurted, squeezing your hand in excitement, a little harder than intended. 

“Wait- yes?”

“Yes! Oh my god yes,” She practically squealed, standing up from her seat to pace. “I mean I was also thinking about where I’d go…I’m not ready to tell my parents, you know how they feel about pregnancy before marriage, and Pietro already knows but he’s barely thriving.” She gestured with her hands, clasping them together and looking at you expectantly.

You nodded, growing even more excited with her. “Then it’s settled, you’ll stay here.” You beamed up at the brunette. She was quick to pull you out of your chair with a toothy grin, pulling you into a hug. 

You both sighed at the contact, holding each other tighter. 

“Thank you, again.” She mumbled, nuzzling further into your neck. You could only smile, what else could you do? This girl was amazing, you squeezed her back in response. 

“It’s no problem, I’d love having you here. And the kid, or kids? Wouldn’t it be crazy if you had twins- worse triplets.” You mumbled to yourself, Wanda giggled.

Maybe Wanda would need help moving in. Getting her stuff, avoiding Vision. You thought to yourself about skipping work for the day- maybe a week. The guest bedroom had the essentials, but not anything baby related…

As you continued rambling on about the move, Wanda sighed, tugging you closer with a loving smile on her face. Then it dawned on her, was she in love with her best friend? Her eyes widened at the realization, trying to bury her panic and listen to your voice instead. 

You raised a hand to your chin, not noticing how tense she had become. “I think I could skip work today and go to the hardware store. We might need a crib, the guest bedroom is yours but the baby gosh it needs its space too-“ 

/-/

The move had gone smoothly, a little too smoothly. Wanda insisted you stay outside the door to Visions apartment while she took care of things. Reluctantly you agreed standing outside waiting, only coming in when Wanda signaled for you to come in. 

His apartment was quite nice, you could see why Wanda liked it so much. Unsurprisingly his home was decorated with small luxuries, perks of being a Stark.

Boxes after boxes went by packed, you insisted Wanda do the lighter loads, not wanting her to hurt her back. And before noon all of Wanda’s stuff was ready to go, no Vision in sight. He must’ve been busy today, Wanda only muttering something about his Chess club. 

Not wanting to stay any longer you packed up the truck, heading to your place. So in short, yes, everything was going great. Wanda made herself an even more important figure in your life, you didn’t think that was possible. Although she had a way of proving you wrong.

She fell quickly into your daily routine, and so easily too. Every morning she’d make you coffee for work, and when she was feeling sick you made her breakfast in return. Wanda had been getting sick a lot more than usual, you assumed it was morning sickness. If only you had realized sooner how bad it had gotten. 

Wanda could not sleep.

There were days when she’d have nightmares as a kid that prevented her from sleeping, often nightmares of a bomb being dropped on her house. Nights waiting up for Vision where she couldn’t sleep in hopes he’d return soon. Many times in her life Wanda found it difficult to sleep, this time the horrors of pregnancy guiding her to insomnia.

Until she felt that familiar feeling again, nausea. Quickly she threw the covers off herself, booking it towards the bathroom. Wanda was so grateful your guest bedroom had a bathroom connected to it, it had given her more privacy and spared her the embarrassment.

Her fingertips barely grazed on the door to close it before she was kneeling on the floor by the toilet, emptying the compartments in her stomach.

Hunched over on the toilet she didn’t realize how much time had passed, time passed slowly for her during this part. All she remembered was the door creaking a little and her hair being collected into a ponytail.

Wanda swore she could hear your voice, she preferred to focus on how nice your hand felt rubbing on her back, how soothing it felt. Your touch brought her back, wiping the side of her lips she turned to meet your concerned eyes. 

Only turning more concerned by the look of exhaustion Wanda held. Words weren’t necessary to communicate where Wanda would be staying that night, or any other nights. Really, as Wanda was pulled up to her feet, and guided to your bedroom she found herself unwilling to care. You kissed her forehead so tenderly whispering goodnight that made Wanda realize it wasn’t so bad.

Sleeping in your arms was worth a little sickness. 

/-/

“Twins.” You heard Wanda mutter from beside, laying on the bed. You couldn’t quite decipher her tone, but her squeeze on your hand made you feel uneasy. Not wanting to overwhelm her, you decided to keep silent, biting the inside of your cheek. 

Weeks had flown by pretty fast, Wanda being on her 15th. Poor girl was already feeling the pain of carrying not one but two kids in her stomach. She’d often ask you to hold her stomach which you easily complied too. 

The doctor turned in his chair, away from the monitor looking at you both with a grin. “Yep! Looks like two healthy babies, would you like to know the gender?” He asked.

Your eyes glanced at Wanda, her face indifferent. Thankfully you caught the slight quiver of her lips letting you know all you needed to. 

“Uh no. Thank you Doctor Stephen but I think” She squeezed your hand again. “…we’re fine for now.” You mustered up a polite smile. 

He nodded his head, mirroring the same smile “Of course! I’ll just go put this in your file and clean things up then you’re good to go.” He tossed his gloves in the bin, finally leaving you two alone. 

You sucked your teeth, hearing the door click shut. Knowing Wanda, she was never used to change even though throughout her childhood all the brunette did was suffer through it. She liked to be in control, prepared for what to expect.

Now it seemed you were expecting two. 

You let out a small noise as your back hit the chair next to her side. Deciding to break the silence, you spoke calmly, “So twins, I guess that means we might need another crib.”

Her eyes only twitched in response, barely acknowledging the way you tried to subtly cheer her up. Make her feel this wasn’t a sudden change she wasn’t prepared for. The thought of another kid shook Wanda, it made her feel nervous. She fidgeted from her place, picking at the bedsheets.

Wanda shook her head, letting out a sigh. She took her hand off yours, using them to rub her temple. “God I- this wasn’t supposed to happen. Y/n I-“ Her throat closed up, she hated the way her immediate response was to cry, tears starting to prickle at her eyes. She hated even more how your face softened, “I can barely fathom one kid, now I’m supposed to mother two.” 

Her head hung lowly as small tears started to stream down her cheeks. Not wanting you to see her that way she tried her best to turn away only for you to grab her cheeks with both hands, thumbs rubbing soft circles against her skin. Wanda let out a choked sob, staring at you so hopelessly. The sight broke your heart.

“Wanda hey, it’s okay.” You whispered.

“No Y/n I just-  two. That’s two new people coming into your home, and me included- I can’t do this to you. You don’t deserve it.” She croaked out, sniffling between words.

You scrunch your face in protest, giving her a stern shake of your head. “Wanda you’ve always been welcome in my home, pregnant or not and it’s not just mine now it’s yours too. I want to help you.” You affirmed, moving your hands to wipe at her tears before coming down to hold her own.

“Why?” She asked.

“Because I care about you, and I love you.” You confessed, the words coming out with more meaning than you intended. Wanda stared up at you in adoration, her eyes crinkling, and a small blush dusting her cheeks. It was then you noticed how close you were, how close Wanda's face was to your own. Feeling overwhelmed by her stare, you looked away, taking a couple steps back. “And I love them too, whatever they are…”

Missing the disappointed look on her face.

Leaning back into the bed, Wanda turns her head to look at you, and if you were looking back you would’ve seen the loving look on her face “I really don’t deserve a friend like you.” She said softly, her voice so fragile.

Then you turned back this time, meeting her gaze, her words registering in your head. Quickly your face turned into a frown, “Don’t say that.”

Ignoring your words Wanda took a hold of your hand. A gesture that came so naturally now, both of you latching onto each other, wanting to feel one another. “I love you too, so much detka.” 

More than you realize.

/-/

“Y/n.” Wanda murmured hurriedly, shaking at your arm. “Detka, wake up.”

Letting out a snort, you woke up with a cough, turning away to cover yourself. Your eyes fluttered wide open, wrestling with the sheets in a panic, “Huh? Yeah- Wands? What's wrong, are they here?”

A small smile crept up her lips at the mention of the twins, “No silly, I'm just…hungry again.” She whispered, turning away from your gaze in embarrassment.

“Again?” You clarified.

“Yeah…sorry.” She chuckled awkwardly.

Leaning on your elbows for support you lifted yourself up, sitting up. Scratching the back of your head you turned to look at your clock. Naturally it was 2 am, usually the time when Wanda would get hungry. 

“No, no, that's fine.” You muttered hoarsely, clearing your throat. “I don’t mind, what are you craving?” 

“Steves burgers…” She beamed.

“Steves? Okay I’ll get you some, with onions or without?” You said as you walked towards the closet, shrugging on your jacket. 

“With, and grilled please.”

“Okay, yeah.” You hummed, slipping on your shoes. “I’ll uh be back try to get some sleep yeah? It's pretty late.” Kneeling up from the floor you reached for your wallet, stuffing it in your pockets. 

Wanda made a disagreeing grunt but pulled the sheets back on herself anyway. “I guess.”

You nodded, giving her a sheepish smile. Grabbing your keys from the nightstand you made your way to the door, a small tug on your jacket stopping you. Curiously you turned around to meet Wanda, tilting your head in question. Her hand traveled up your forearm, pulling you down to press a lingering kiss on your cheek.  

“Stay safe, and put on your glasses when you drive. Your astigmatism gets bad at this hour.” She husked out, letting you go. 

Your breath catches in your throat, not trusting your words you nod again. Stumbling through a few items you rush towards the door, leaving with a small goodbye unsure why Wanda was teasing you. What was that?

/-/

“Hey.” You said, a surprised look on your face as you closed the door behind you. Wanda gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes from the dimly lit dining room. She was sitting comfortably in the chair, wearing one of your hoodies.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting, it’s really late.” Checking at the clock once again you confirmed your suspicions, you assumed perhaps she’d enjoy her burger in bed like she always does. This time however Wanda had different plans, fiddling with her sleeves.

“You know I can’t sleep without you.” She retorted, gazing into your eyes “I like it when you’re here.” She confesses profoundly.

You give her a sheepish smile, unsure what to say. The look in her eyes does nothing but make you even more nervous, what was going on with her? “I like it when you’re here too. Is everything okay?” 

Wanda lets out a sigh, you choose to ignore it thinking she’s probably starving by now. You place the plastic bag on the table, taking out the bags and giving Wanda her burger. A number 2 with grilled onions, two pickles, and no cheese. “And I got you these.” You slide the container to her.

Wanda gives you a questioning look before opening it, she lets out a gasp when she does. Animal style fries. The annoyed quirk of her eyebrows long gone. Closing the lid she gives you a thankful pout, her eyes glossing.  “Thank you…”

“I got you a strawberry milkshake too since I know you like dipping them with the animal fries.” You chuckled, putting the glass on the table. 

That’s when Wanda wanted to cry, cry pathetically into her perfect burger brought by your perfect, kind, compassionate self. Instead she tossed the burger aside and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. Your eyes widened in surprise, but pressed back with the same intensity, quickly melting into the kiss. 

Wanda sighing against your lips easily became your new favorite sound, eager to get her to make more, your hands coming up to cup her face. Eventually you realize that this isn’t just any girl, but your best friend. Your best friend who you’d have been crushing on for years, your best friend who just kissed you.

She kissed you.

And you almost break the kiss by how much you’re smiling but Wanda beats you to it, leaving lingering kisses on your lips, slowing the pace until her forehead is against yours. “I’m in love with you Y/n.”

Your breath hitches “M-Me too.”

Wanda shakes her head, moving to nuzzle against your collarbone. “No detka, as in more than just a friend.” She says, reminded of your previous statements on what friends do. Fuck being friends, you wanted Wanda. Wanted to show her how good of a partner you could be.

“So you like me?” You asked shyly, still processing the revelation.

Wanda picked up her head from your shoulder, correcting you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Love you.”

You swallowed dryly, feeling your heart race. “That's great- thats- I.”

“Just kiss me already.” She orders breathlessly, barely giving you time to mutter ‘okay’ before your lips are on hers again. 

It's not until the morning when you both come downstairs, lovesick smiles on your faces, that you realize the mess you left behind. Both burgers remain uneaten, but as your eyes glance down to yours and Wanda's intertwined fingers, you could care less. 

[tsxkkis]

# kageyama tobio - private

a/n: not proud of this, because i didn't truly know how to end it. also i've been searching for a job lately and it's so damn hard to find one help T-T i still gotta try though because i want money for figurines and mangas :33

summary: your relationship with kageyama was a secret from the public, but it can't be private forever.

warnings: none really

tobio kageyama never answers his phone while training.

his mind was always set on one thing - volleyball. it's like everything else was secondary to his beloved sport, to his safe space, which he adored and treasured dearly. there was only one thing he loved just as much; but that was kept a secret from the world.

along with being a professional athlete came the fame, and with the fame came lack of privacy, something that kageyama seemed to hate from the very beginning of joining schweiden adlers. he vowed to himself that his private life will never become a topic of public discussion, that he'll control every information that comes out to the media as much as he possibly can.

'they're writing about you.' ushijima's voice echoed through their changing room as he handed the black-haired boy his phone, an internet article opened up on one of the most popular gossip pages. upon seeing the title and content of the article, the look on his face instantly changed - he looked irritated, almost insulted. kageyama's nose scrunched in dissatisfaction as if he's just seen another picture of hinata and oikawa hanging out in brazil.

'ooh, let me see!' hoshiumi snached the phone away, curious eyes following the text on the screen, a small gasp leaving his parted lips every now and then. kageyama was quick to get the phone back with an annoyed huff, suddenly putting his shoes on much quicker than before.

the white-haired man looked like he was about to say something, but he was quickly cut off before he could even let a word out.

'don't even mention it.'

'you have a GIRLFRIEND?!'

the changing room fell silent, the only two men left there besides kageyama standing still, awaiting an answer. but as they noticed the tips of tobio's ears turning into a color similar to a rose and his gaze avoiding their glares, they realized they didn't need one.

they weren't exactly shocked by their discovery - tobio was always a private person, and he didn't really talk about his life much, much preffering conversations about volleyball instead of one's that circled around him.

a notification popped up on his phone, disrupting the silence between the three men.

it was you.

'i'm waiting in front of the changing room like i told you yesterday :33'

'hurry up!'

tobio realized he completely forgot about his promise to you, and as his cheeks flushed pink, he suddenly realized that maybe the whole situation wasn't so bad after all.

'you want to meet my teammates?'

kageyama's stood in your shared room's doorframe, a curious look on his face. 'why the hell would you want to meet these idiots?'

'i want to get to know the people my boyfriend hangs out with.' you mumbled, putting down the book you were currently reading. 'you know, i understand that you want to protect your peace from the outside world, but i don't think you have to hide your entire life from your work friends. they seem trustworthy, for all i know.'

the black-haired man plopped onto the bed right next to you, choosing your arm as a perfect pillow for himself. the room fell silent for a few minutes, but you didn't pressure tobio to answer you right away - from the look on his face you knew he was thinking, rather intensely at that, so there was no point in disrupting his trail of thoughts.

'how am i supposed to break it to them, though?' he asked, a genuinely confused look on his face. 'hey, i've been in a relationship for the last four years and never told you, sorry.'

a giggle left your mouth, your hand softly brushing through your boyfriend's hair, twirling the short strands around your fingers.

'i can just come to meet you up after practice and introduce myself. it'll be less awkward for you that way.'

kageyama hummed in response, as if he was deciding on whether he should go with your idea or not. he knew that your relationship being uncovered was inevitable - that sooner or later, they would find out anyways. so maybe your idea wasn't so bad.

'tommorow?' he mumbled, head leaning into your soft hands, almost as if he was pleading you to play with his hair just a tad bit longer.

'fine by me.'

you stood in one place, patiently awaiting your boyfriend as you scrolled through your phone, invested in a particularly hard game of sudoku. as you heard the door crack open, your eyes quickly shot up, hoping to be met with your boyfriend's tall figure. instead, a way shorter, white-haired man showed up right in front of you, bright eyes scanning your figure from head to toe.

'i know you! you used to be karasuno's manage-'

'give her some space, hoshiumi.' a tall man appeared from behind him, one that you recognized to be ushijima almost immediately. you remembered both of the men from your times in high school, and yet you never truly had a chance to meet them properly - not until now, that is.

as you greeted tobio, who emerged from the changing room shortly after, you weren't even surprised that he opted for a hug instead of a kiss - although an adult already, kageyama was still awkward with any public displays of affection. he preferred to keep those special moments to himself.

'have you seen the article?' he hummed quietly, his eyes glued to your face smiling at your confused look.

'what article?'

although a little dumbfounded by your lack of knowledge of it, kageyama quickly pulled out his phone and handed it to you, the article opened up on the screen.

'oh.' your face went blank as you eyed the words in front of you, suddenly connecting the dots. 'so that's why there's so many reporters and paparazzi in front of the building.

reporters? paparazzi?

'shit.' he mumbled under his breath. 'how many of them?'

'around ten, maybe eleven.' kageyama's smile dropped almost immediately upon hearing the number. you carefully scanned his face, hand going up to gently ruffle his hair. 'we can wait for them to leave if you don't want them to see us. i don't mind.'

he thought for a hot minute, rethinking every possible scenario that could happen, every option available. was he truly ready for his private life to become so... public?

kageyama wasn't exactly sure. you've been together for so long that he knew this relationship would last through anything and everything, but at the same time, he didn't want things to change. he hated changes - they never truly meant anything good, and he would always avoid them as much as possible.

but this change was inevitable.

'it's alright.' he said, breaking the moment of silence. 'it would've happened sooner or later. might as well have this behind us, right?'

'are you sure?' you asked quietly, squeezing his hand as you saw kageyama already heading towards the door. his head quickly turned to face you, giving you a small nod before his hand landed on the handle.

'not entirely.' he admitted, eyes darting away from your gaze. 'but i can do it as long as it's with you.'

'hey, don't forget about us!' hoshiumi's stated, your boyfriend shooting him a deathly glare for interrupting the moment between you two. 'maybe we should all grab some dinner, what do you say? i'm sure you're all hungry.'

'come to think of it,' ushijima barged into the conversation, his usual monotone tone. 'i know a restaurant where the paparazzi won't bother us.'

you exchanged looks with tobio, a barely noticeable smile on your face being enough for him to know that you agree.

'let's do it.' the black-haired man said, solidifying the idea once and for all.

'what if they won't leave us alone?' he could see that your anxious side took over, suddenly stressed out about going outside. kageyama gave you a reassuring look, smiling softly.

'then they'll know how amazing my girlfriend is.'

'oooh, how corny-' hoshiumi mumbled, stopping when he saw kageyama's annoyed glare. 'alright, lovebirds, i'll be quiet.'

'you'd better.' you giggled at your boyfriend's words, his hand once again on the handle. he looked your way, softly smiling down at you. 'ready?'

you looked up, eyes meeting his.

'with you by my side? always.'

taglist: @moonswolfie

[dcxdpdabbles]

If you’re taking requests, I’d love to see more of Danny and the Fan Blog.

Danny is asked to go in through the servant's entrance. He would be offended if he couldn't tell that the people strutting through the front gate weren't wearing outfits that cost more than his family house.

He didn't see a reason to argue with security, so Danny wandered over to the side entrance and was allowed entrance when they verified his identification.

He winds up in a spacious kitchen. Men and women are rushing around in white and blue chef outfits. They speak in fast tones and make quick movements, somehow never colliding with each other.

In the far right corner, a group of servers is straightening out their outfits and picking up trays covered in various drinks or finger foods. They wander in and out at a more leisurely pace than the cooking crew, but there is a sense of urgency among them that tells Danny they are having it rough out in the field, too.

Security is standing at the entrance, and occasionally, a second guard walks in, pacing around the room with a sharp eye.

Danny feels like a floating life raft in a raging sea. He clings to his camera hanging around his neck and wishes to bail on his mission for Lady Gotham. Getting a portrait shot of all the Waynes was starting to seem like too much of a hassle.

If only she wasn't so high-ranking in nobility.

After noticing that Danny needs to know where to go, one of the servers slides over. "Hey, I'm Ryan. Is this your first time covering a big event?"

He gives the taller man a nervous smile. "Yeah. I've never been to a party as fancy as this."

"Don't worry, you'll be fine," Ryan tells him with an easy smile. Danny notices he's pretty handsome, but that's to be expected. Everyone knows that Bruce Wayne only hired good-looking people for servers.

It's one of the reasons his parties are so well-liked.

"I'll break it down for you. First, there are three floors to the party- the entrance hall where most are just trading pleasures. Do not try to start up conversations there; it is seen as impolite. Second, the Middle room- right between the ballroom and the entrance- is where the elites sit down for a conversation. They also go there to take a break from the party. It's where you'll be tonight since it's where media crew is allowed." Ryan says quickly, taking long, fast strides. Danny scrambles after him, trying to retrain everything in memory.

It's a bit hard since Ryan doesn't seem to want to waste a second, and Danny might or might not be the best at following verbal instructions. If only he had a notepad.

"Pro tip: don't turn on the flash. The elites hate it when they notice you're there. The crew is asked to stay in the first two rooms. Mr. Wayne lets the media into his parties, but he wants his guests to be safe, so don't even try to go into the main ballroom and, for your sake, ask before you take a picture." Ryan finishes pushing open a door. He gestures to the room. "Good luck."

"Hold on-" Danny tries to say, but he can't finish before he is thrown into the hallway. At once, Danny realizes with horror that he is right in the center of the Middle room. There are a lot more people than he is prepared for, seeing as groups of people are standing or sitting around speaking in low voices.

A few heads turn to look at him, making Danny panic. He spots a corner that is far away from everyone. He makes his way there with careful steps, hunching his shoulders whenever he accidentally makes eye contact with people.

Though that was more of the staff, the guests seemed to look right. Danny isn't used to it from Amity Park, but it's a surprise to have to experience it again here in Gotham.

Arriving safely in his corner, Danny leans against the wall, surveying the room. He doesn't know who anyone is, which means his targets are not here, but he can certainly tell they all scream wealth.

A slight floral scent is in the air, and music plays through the wall in a classical ambiance. It's every stereotype of rich people's party, giving horrid flashbacks to high society events in the Ghost zone.

At least no one is mobbing him to try and gain favor with the new naive King.

He accidentally locks gaze with an older woman who lifts her eyebrow. Her expression is smooth, but her eyes are cold as ice and he can practically feel her sneer.

Danny snaps his eyes away, swallowing hard. He fumbles with his camera, checking the settings, adjusting the lens, and trying to look busy.

After a moment, he felt her gaze leave him.

Okay, I can do this, he thinks, relieved that the ice queen wasn't staring him down. I just find the Waynes, get their pictures, and go home. Then I can go out and take photos of the Bats.

Taking a deep breath, Danny shuffles to the main door and adjusts his camera settings again. As he clicks through the shutter settings, he feels a hand reach out and nearly knock the wind out of him.

"Guest only beyond this point," A man in a suit growls at him. Danny rubs his chest, trying not to melt into the ground as he can feel multiple people turn to stare.

"I am a guest." He tells the man.

The other sighs. "Sir, if you don't back up, I must escort you off the property."

"What? No, I swear I am. I have an invitation." Danny pulls out the letter Lady Gotham gave him, unfolding it from his back pant pocket. The man takes it from his hand and crumbles it up without looking at it.

"Hey!"

"I will not tell you again. Take a step back or else!"

Danny's hands curl into fists against his will. The man's eyes narrow with a sneer, matching his rage. Just as he thought things would go badly, he heard a voice crack over the speakers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I hope you all are enjoying the evening. This night wouldn't have been possible without your generous donations today. A special thank you to Daniel Fenton for making the largest donation." Bruce Wayne says with a dizzy smile.

Danny straightens up. "That's me. I'm Daniel Fenton."

"Sure it is."

"I am! I have my ID." Danny pulls out his wallet. "Look!"

"That's it. You have ten seconds to leave: on your own or by force," the man growls, reaching up to his earpieces. He taps them twice. I request a backup to remove a disturbance."

"What?! I'm not even doing anything!"

"We had plenty of complaints against you already. You made our guest feel unsafe."

"But-!"

"Is there a problem here?" a second pair of security guards asks. They surround Danny, and by this point, people have noticed there is undoubtedly a disturbance underway.

"No, there isn't! I'm just trying to go to the party I was invited to."

"Nice try. I saw you come through the servant's entrance." One of them says.

"Because they told me to!" Over the shoulder of one of the guards, he spots Ryan walking by with a tray of shimmering drinks. Thinking about how nice he was, Danny waved a hand. "Ryan can vouch for me. Hey, Ryan! Ryan!"

The server turns to him, his eyes comprehensive as soon as he spots Danny waving eagerly. Face turning pale, the man rushes over.

"What's going on?" He asks, and two guards level dark stares at the employee.

"Ryan, can you please tell them I was invited?" Danny demands with a pout.

"Kid, I told you the crew stays in the Middle room," Ryan tells him nervously, warping an arm around him and balancing the tray in the other. "It's okay, guys. He's with me. He just got a little confused is-"

"So you both need to be removed from the premises," the original guard sneers, snapping his figures. The other two quickly step forward and grab them. "By the way, Ryan, you're fired."

"W-what? But Cooper, I really need this job. My sister has medical bills, and she depends on me!"

"Then she's going to be very disappointed, isn't she?" Cooper tells him with a smirk.

"That's not fair. He didn't do anything wrong." Danny protests as Ryan's expression crumbles.

"What is going on here?" a new voice asks. Everyone turns to find an elderly British man looking at them, all unimpressed.

"Mr. Pennysworth. We have the situation handled." Cooper tells him smoothly.

"Good, because Master Wayne is waiting for Mr. Fenton to give a speech."

That makes everyone freeze, including Danny. "I am?"

"Of course, sir. You did out-donate everyone here," the butler tells him in a deadpan voice. He gives the shocked Ryan a quick glance, "This is?"

"Ryan," Danny says, taking the tray from the stunned older teenager. He passes it to a gaping Copper. "He's with me."

"Very well, sirs, please come this way." He glances at the camera around Danny's neck. "I see you brought your equipment. Please refrain from taking photos within the hall."

"Yes sir." He tells the butler, grabbing Ryan's hand and pulling him into the room.

"You're rich?" Ryan gasps, staring at Danny like he was an alien

"It would certainly appear so. By the way, what's your last name?"

"Aetos"

"Ryan Aetos. Nice name. What's your sister's name?"

"Ida. Why?"

"To pay off all her medical bills. Current and future."

"What?!"

Danny smiles up at the teenager. He seems to be about two years older than Danny, so he is likely nineteen. "Yeah, you were nice to me. That's good karma, and trust me, in Gotham, that means a lot. Now, let's enjoy the party. You're my plus one tonight."

Light years above them, Karma kicks her feet, giggling madly. "It looks like Tim has noticed Danny for his camera, but oh, what this—a love rival, with a heart of gold and a care for his sister? Lovely."

"Do you not have a life sister?"

"I have a job. Unlike you, brother." She snaps before quickly moving Tim into a position that would be fabulous once Danny gives into his urge to take the photo. Just in case.