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dumplingsjinson · 1 year

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List of “how about we get comfy and cozy with each other, in more ways than one?” prompts

(Warning: This list is pretty much an overshare in the form of a prompt list, because it is very much based on my personal experiences. A lot of TMI happens.

If that makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read the list. If you’re okay with it, proceed on at your own discretion.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you because… It’s a lot.)

1. “I hope I’m not being too needy.” “Well, I like it when you’re needy. I like it when you’re like this.” (THE FUCKING AUDACITY OF THIS MAN WLEIFLEKWNKLEWFN)

2. Character B groping Character A’s ass while they’re making out.

3. Character A moaning and whimpering into Character B’s ear while rubbing themselves against Character B’s thigh, desperate for release.

4. “I… I want you to touch me,” Character A admits, while staring up at the ceiling, cheeks reddening in an increasing show of embarrassment.

5. “Tell me to stop if it becomes too much, okay?”

6. Character B dry humping Character A; hips thrusting into theirs, picking up with the pace when Character A whimpers in their ear and pulls Character B even closer in response because they don’t want any sort of space left between them; not even a sliver.

7. Character B getting all sweaty and heated while they’re dry humping Character A.

8. Character B taking off their shirt to get more comfortable with Character A, and Character A subtly admiring their physique. (WHEN HE DID THAT?? THE DISRESPECT??? This guy’s gonna ruin me, I know it sjjsjs)

9. “Don’t be too loud,” Character B murmurs softly, planting a tender kiss on Character A’s face while sliding their thigh against Character A’s crotch, taking in the way Character A lets out a strangled sigh at that. (SIRRRR?? THEN DON’T FUCKING DO THIS TO ME?? WTF LWKENFWEK. Mind you, his fam came home after we were alone for an hour or two, so-)

10. Character A and Character B continuously checking in on each other every now and again to make sure they’re comfortable with the way things are going.

11. Character B planting soft kisses all over Character A’s face and their neck, reassuring and sweet while things get very, very heated.

12. “You’re going to make me not want to leave the bed if you keep doing this,” Character A warns in a low moan, as Character B continues to kiss their neck, their body pressing against Character A’s. Character B only chuckles in response, nipping at their skin playfully.

13. Legs tangling together so they can get closer to each other.

14. Character B fondling Character A, enjoying the noises they’re eliciting from Character A; enjoying the way they’re making Character A unravel at the seams, coming undone by their touch so easily.

15. Character A hiding their face into Character B’s shirt because they can’t keep the noises at bay, and hoping to God they’re not being too loud.

16. Character A and Character B’s hands roaming each other’s bodies, almost like they can’t get enough of each other (and they can’t. They can’t get enough of each other is the fucking problem here).

17. Character A desperately humping Character B’s thigh, chasing their high, shameless noises scraping at the back of their throat.

18. Character B’s fingers speeding up in response to the sweet sounds falling out of Character A’s mouth.

19. Character B letting their hands wander all over Character A’s body; slipping under their shirt, their pants, their undergarments, and Character A enjoying having their hands all over them like this even though they’re too shy to admit to that with words.

20. “Do you want me to straddle you?”

21. “How am I supposed to think about anything else while fucking myself now?” Character A questions in a rushed gasp as Character B continues to rub their thigh against their crotch.

22. “You’re so adorable,” Character B murmurs as they continue to thrust their hips into Character A’s. “How is me doing this adorable to you?” Character A questions, moaning a little at a particularly hard thrust of Character B’s hips against theirs.

23. Character B leaving hickeys on Character A’s neck, on spots that make them pretty damn visible to the public.

24. “So… How do you like it on top?” “It’s uh… It’s an interesting experience.”

25. Character B’s body responding to the noises Character A’s making because of what they’re doing with them; to them.

26. Character B’s hand slipping past Character A’s pants to grope their bare ass while they’re dry humping each other.

27. Character B hitching Character A onto their thigh, pressing their thigh firmly against Character A’s crotch to tease them.

28. Character B caging Character A between their arms while kissing them, and Character A’s arms wrapping around Character B’s neck to pull them closer, fingers carding through their hair; hands sliding down their neck; their shoulders; their arms; slipping under their tank top, palms resting against their bare skin; palms gliding along their spine and their back.

29. Character B asking for consent whenever they want to do something a little out of the blue, and stopping when Character A isn’t comfortable with it. (BOUNDARY RESPECTING KING, PEOPLE NEED TO BE LIKE HIM!!)

30. “Sorry if I went too far,” Character B says, and Character A shakes their head. “No, you didn’t go too far. You didn’t go far at all; you didn’t go far enough,” Character A says, flushing at the brazen admission coming out of their own mouth.

31. Character B trailing kisses down Character A’s chest/breasts.

32. Character B pulling up Character A’s undergarment/shirt and taking Character A’s breast/nipple into their mouth, with Character A arching into them with pleasure at the unexpected gesture, a soft, encouraging gasp leaving them.

33. Character B slipping their hand under Character A’s shirt/undergarments to fondle with their nipples/breasts.

34. Just Character A being a needy little fuck and needing Character B to be all over them because they’re so fucking addicted to the taste of them and the way their body rocks against theirs.

35. Character A letting out little obscenities while they’re fooling around, which only fuels Character B further.

36. “Well, now I’m really wet/hard.” “I see no problem with that.”

37. Character A rocking back against Character B while they’re spooning and Character B shallowly thrusting against them in response.

38. Character A biting their bottom lip to try and keep quiet (and failing pretty miserably).

39. “Yeah, you like that?” Character B softly murmurs into Character A’s ear as Character A lets out an involuntary sigh, arching up into Character B in response.

40. “Well… I do fantasise being restrained by handcuffs.” “We can try that in the future if you’d like.” (WELL FUCK ME I GUESS LWKENFEWLKNF)

41. Character A moaning into Character B’s mouth while they’re making out, which spurs Character B on, with the way they pull Character A even closer and kisses them harder; with much more fervour than before.

42. Character B touching, teasing and feeling Character A up. (DID Y’ALL GET THAT WAYV REFERENCE OR WHAT—)

43. Character B caressing the side Character A’s thigh while they’re kissing.

44. “And you’re telling me this is what cuddling is?” “Mhm.” “Bullshit.”

45. Character A fucking themselves on Character B’s fingers, whimpering in a way they’d be embarrassed about if they weren’t so in the moment.

46. Character A trying so fucking hard to control the soft little whimpers leaving them when Character B rubs against them with their fingers.

47. “I’m all over the place and it’s all your fault,” Character A whines while Character B chuckles. “Mmm, it’s not all on me, you know,” Character B says, tone teasing.

48. “It’s just me and you now,” Character B murmurs softly, planting a kiss on Character A’s lips, slowly rocking their hips against Character A. (onrwlfgnrekljng FUCK!! OFF!! ALKFHEWLKNF)

49. Character B closing the blinds for privacy reasons. (He was struggling to close the blinds and I was giggling and teasing him about that lmfaofenlkfn)

50. Character B slipping their thigh between Character’s A’s legs with the intention of messing with them.

51. Character A grinding against Character B’s thigh and Character B responding by pressing their thigh firmer against Character A.

52. The soft pleas and whimpers slipping out of Character A’s mouth as Character B quickens the thrusts of their fingers.

53. “How are you feeling?” Character B would ask every now and then to make sure Character A’s comfortable and okay with what they’re doing, and the pace they’re going at. (This is ALWAYS so fucking sexy! Do this with your partner)

54. Character B unbuttoning/unzipping Character A’s pants, in a tauntingly slow manner; slips their hand past the waist band of Character A’s pants whilst Character A squirms around a little, their heartbeat quickening in anticipation of what’s to come. (Uh, no pun intended???)

55. Taking a break in between each of their little sessions and cuddling with each other, and using those moments to check in on each other.

56. Character B stopping themselves from going further whenever they sense Character A getting a bit overwhelmed with everything that’s happening and making sure that they’re okay. (He just… He’s so caring and it’s so fucking sweet AHHHH)

57. Character B’s ragged, laboured breathing in Character A’s ear as they fuck themselves against Character A, and Character A squeezing their biceps in encouragement; the soft pants from Character B and the whimpers and moans from Character A intermingling in the air.

58. Character A burying their face in Character B’s chest out of pure embarrassment after doing all of that, and Character B chuckling at them while cuddling them close to their chest, planting several kisses on their face.

59. Character A’s clothing smelling like Character B’s because of how much they were all over each other, all day and night.

60. Character A leaving Character B’s room with the messiest hair by the end of the night.

#long post #all I’m gonna say is this is all based on personal experience and i AM oversharing #I’m going through it by re-reading this list LMAO #some of them are a bit repetitive but skksks #I have the forward slash sign for some of the prompts (eg. hard/wet) so it can be used for anyone #my way of processing things tbh #cat guy chronicles #smut prompts #suggestive prompts #prompts #otp prompts #writing prompts #dialogue prompts #writing scenarios

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silverwhittlingknife · 3 months

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So you're a go to source for all things Dick&Tim bros and you tend to write primarily from Dick's POV. So, odd question, but if you were to summarize their relationship from his POV in FIVE panels which panels would you pick? Keeping in mind that one specific aspect of their relationship that you love needs to be clearly represented by each panel (loyalty, trust etc). I hope this is a fun challenge and not an annoying question so if you don't want to answer that's cool! Have a wonderful day!

No more talk. The same thoughts run through two minds... (SotB 29) / You're my equal. My closest ally. (RR 1) / I can't stop thinking how much I rely on him. (GoG 3)

25 Feelings Dick Has About Tim

This was such a kind ask & a cool challenge which I totally failed; here are TWENTY-five panels of Dick's POV on Tim sdfdsfds Look, I got carried away! Marcia and Cindy! The boys!!

OKAY SO BEFORE I GET TO THE PANELS A FEW NOTES:

WARNING THAT THERE ARE SOME NEGATIVE EMOTIONS IN HERE because I love conflict but but but you gotta remember those are not the final word!! They are complicated people and sometimes they get mad at each other BUT ultimately their relationship is so hugely important in both their lives & they love each other and rely on each other so much -!!! <3

Also I have CONCLUDING THOUGHTS at the end about what Dick's POV leaves out (mostly: a lot of Dick defending & protecting & supporting Tim, which Dick does instinctively but isn't very self-aware about most of the time)

I have loosely organized my list into 5^5 format (5 categories with 5 examples each!), so if you want to skip to a relevant one, here are the categories!!

Below the cut:

I hate him and find him infuriating (#1-5)

On second thought, he's endearing & fun (#6-10)

Grief is complicated & he's all tangled up in mine (#11-15)

I love him & think highly of him (#16-20)

I rely on him & though it's hard for me, I trust him (#21-25)

I hate him and find him infuriating (#1 - 5)

1) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze me and Bruce, but he doesn’t know me at all, he should get lost (New Titans 61)

2) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze Bruce but he doesn’t know Bruce at all, he should get lost (Gotham Knights 26)

3) He is so nosy about stuff that is MY business (Robin 0)

4) He sounds like an insincere suck-up half the time... but okay, fine, if you push him he's got a sense of humor about it (New Titans 65)

5) I'm sure he's a better vigilante than me. It's my fault for being a failure, but I resent him anyway. (Nightwing 9 - Dick's having a nightmare)

On second thought, he's kinda endearing (#6-10)

6) He worries too much and gets anxious so easily, but it makes him fun to tease (Robin 67)

7) I'm not that competitive - okay, so maybe I'm a little competitive, I gotta make sure he doesn't get a swelled head (Prodigal)

8) I'm supposed to be his favorite! It is not cool for him to be fanboying over my not-girlfriend's not-boyfriend!! (Birds of Prey 19)

9) We have fun together. I can kick back and relax when it's just the two of us. Plus I get to boss him around a bit. (Prodigal)

10) He’s always trying to reassure me, and I guess it's a little comforting, but also he doesn’t really get it. Or me. He makes excuses that he shouldn't, because he doesn't understand that I suck. (Nightwing 64)

Grief is complicated and he's all tangled up in mine (#11 - 15)

11) He reminds me of everything I try not to think about. Sometimes the memories are so strong it hurts to look at him. (Batman 441)

12) WHY IS HE BEING IMPOSSIBLE ALL OF A SUDDEN??? THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING (Nightwing 139)

13) We're the same. He says all the things I don't let myself think about. It's like arguing with myself. (Nightwing 139)

14) He thinks he gets to tell me what to do but he doesn’t, fuck him (Battle for the Cowl)

15) Life sucks, so what. I sucked it up so he should too (RR 1)

I love him and think highly of him (#16 - 20)

16) He’s the closest thing to a brother I’ll ever have. If someone hurts him I will hurt them harder. (Nightwing 6)

17) I can't handle the idea of losing him. (Nightwing 97)

17) He’s so good and I’m not. I'm afraid I’m bad for him. (Nightwing 110)

18) He’s better than me, and it’s kind of a relief because I know no matter what he’ll be okay. (Gates of Gotham 3)

19) In my head he’s the responsible one. (Gotham Knights 10)

I rely on him, and though it's hard for me, I trust him (#20-25)

20) I know I have to trust him but I'm afraid he'll make the wrong choices and get hurt (Nightwing 139)

21) I'm sure I know what he should do because I see myself in him - not that I can take my own advice, but he should (Blackest Night 3)

22) I trust him. When I’m losing my grip on things, he pulls me back. (Gotham Knights 10)

23) I want him to trust me (Red Robin 12)

24) He can tell when I'm lying. Sometimes he sees my weaknesses better than I wish he did. (Detective Comics 874)

25) He’s always there when I need him. (Teen Titans / Outsiders Secret Files)

Final rambling thoughts:

TIM: Uhh, okay, so I'm just skimming this list - do you really trust me? you're not just saying that? - but anyway, I'm confused because you left some stuff out? Like some stuff that's kinda important? DICK: No? I think I got everything? TIM (starts counting on his fingers): The time I was having a bad day but then I called you. The time I got captured by Two-Face but then you saved me. The time I fell off a train but then you saved me. The time I fell off a building but then you saved me. The time I fell off a different building - DICK: I feel like you're trying to make some kind of point but I'm not sure what it could be.

SO THE THING IS, I put 25 panels in here and not a single one has Dick catching Tim when he’s falling!!! But I think that's a central motif of their relationship from Tim’s POV, not Dick’s. I love Dick, but in some ways I think he is spectacularly un-self-aware.

And I think he especially has a lot of blind spots about Tim. He kinda intermittently gets that Tim admires him, and he enjoys it in a playful I-get-to-boss-you-around way. But Dick tends to consistently underestimate all of his own good qualities & skills, and he meets Tim at a point in his life when he's especially down on himself & his abilities. And so he's unable to see his own influence on Tim, & therefore unable to fully understand a lot of Tim's priorities and loyalties and motivations, because you can't actually understand Tim without understanding Dick's impact on him. There's a fascinating moment in Bruce Wayne: Murderer when Dick's completely blindsided & upset to discover that Tim doesn't entirely trust Bruce, even though this has been a definitive fact of Tim's whole thing ever since he showed up with his Batman needs Robin theory, and Barbara has to actively remind Dick of the obvious-to-everyone-except-Dick fact that a lot of Tim's loyalty is to Dick, and Tim loves Bruce but feels free to be more wary of him. (And to give Bruce credit: this is not something he ever begrudges.) But anyway Babs points this out, and Dick manages to sorta process it for about five seconds, but he cannot actually accept it into his worldview so instead he discards it at the speed of light and goes off and has an argument with Tim instead sdfsfdsf

All of Dick's virtues - Dick's kindness at the circus and Dick's determination to fight through grief and Dick's rigid sense of morals and Dick's vigilante skills and every time Dick has ever backed Tim up or listened to him or protected him or saved him from something or just been casually kind to a stranger in Tim's presence etc etc etc - all these things loom really large in Tim's mental story of Who Dick Is, and What Dick And Tim's Relationship Is. Tim meets Dick before he meets Bruce, trusts Dick more than Bruce, aspires to be Robin instead of Batman. And so in Tim's default version of the story, Dick is the super-special and admirable hero and Tim is... nobody in particular, a tagalong outsider who's barely managing to be a hero, not part of Dick and Bruce's family and not part of their story, who, if he's VERY LUCKY and tries REALLY HARD, might be able to fight his way to proving himself and offering something to Dick that Dick will value, if Dick doesn't get fed up with him first.

But that's not Dick's version of the story!!!

Dick's version of the story is almost the exact opposite, a story where Dick's an outcast failure black sheep who's screwing up everything he tries, and meanwhile Tim is The Sudden New Perfect Robin Who's Better Than Me And Probably Bruce Loves Him More And Probably They Gossip About What A Loser I Am, mixed with a complicated edge of Tim Thinks He's So Smart But He Doesn't Know Me/Us At All. Dick gets much more attached to Tim over time, and Tim gets unnervingly better at the know-it-all psychoanalysis so then Dick gets to have complicated feelings about him being right instead of just annoyance at him for being wrong, plus Dick's relationship with Bruce improves a lot, so Tim stops feeling so threatening. But Dick never fundamentally changes his basic theory of their relationship in which Tim is highly impressive and capable, and Dick is not so much.

And so asking Dick about Tim is kinda like if you asked George Bailey to tell you about Harry Bailey in It's A Wonderful Life; like, you'll be there for five hours while he tells you how great Harry is, and how accomplished Harry is, and how he doesn't really get how or why Harry does the things he does, and maybe George does feel a little resentful or jealous sometimes, but that pales in comparison to all his admiration and trust for Harry who he loves so much, who's better than him in so many ways, and he's not gonna openly gripe but secretly he can't help but feel sometimes like he's such a failure in comparison to Harry, a perfect person who emerged fully formed from Zeus's head with all the virtues and also all the accomplishments, etc. etc. etc. --

-- and he will not actually remember the part where he changed and saved Harry's whole entire life unless you literally send him to an alternate timeline in order to force him to remember it. <3

#i enjoyed thinking about this so much i wrote a novel with All My Thoughts sorry sdfsdfs #tim drake #dick grayson #somewhat tangential but as i was writing this i was thinking about zahri's post #about how different types of stories offer different kinds of emotional payoffs #and i think for me for dick and tim the main two payoffs are:#1) someone who sees & understands your grief for deaths that will never get fixed or get better #and who will face your ghosts with you EVEN WHEN you're also mad at each other #2) someone who you look at and you see all the ways that you suck & he's better & you're a loser who's failed him etc etc #but it turns out that you're wrong. that you're good enough. not that none of the failures were real or that they were all in your head #but it turns out that it's okay that you didn't always immediately do or feel the right thing #and it's okay that you weren't perfect. you can fuck up six thousand ways & everything you did right will still matter #not because of making excuses or allowances or somebody pityingly trying to make you feel better #but because in the end the things you did right are just Genuinely More Valuable than anything you did wrong #all the times you tried & everything that you tried to give - everything you think wasn't good enough - it was.#IN OTHER WORDS they are both convinced they're not good enough & they are both wrong <3 #anyway dick and tim are both INCREDIBLY SIMILAR and also CONSTANTLY misreading each other and i love that for them #and like. they will sometimes totally misread each other & then never figure out the part that they misunderstood #but then they manage to keep going anyway. we love each other on purpose <333 #ask tag #dick&tim

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linopls · 1 year

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kinktober day five

first time jeongin x fem!reader summary: spending the night in your childhood bedroom with one of your members didn't go as you expected it. warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, mentions of underage drinking, oral (fem receiving), unprotected p in v 3.1k words (whoops)

they are both adults (18) here!

“you smell like a red, white, and berry smirnoff.”

jeongin giggles, “your childhood bedroom is cute.”

you never thought any of the stray kids members would visit your childhood home in the states until the boys suggested you come back home for your senior prom. you had committed to finishing your senior year online while still being a member of stray kids knowing that you would miss many of your senior traditions. but the boys could not let go of the idea of you missing your senior prom.

your defensive argument is you had no reason to go as you didn’t have a date, all the boys jumped on the opportunity to take you. chan, minho, and changbin were all too old, according to the permission slip. seungmin and jisung were too worried about not knowing enough english, and hyunjin and felix had both planned trips with their families during this time of break.

this left jeongin, who didn’t care if he didn’t know enough english.

“isn’t prom just dancing anyways?” jeongin asked you a month before the dance, both of you sitting in the JYPE cafe snacking between practices.

“it is,” you reply, taking a fork full of your salad. “but i’ll want you to meet and get to know all my friends.”

“then you can translate for me, think of it as korean practice!”

“pfft, i don’t need more korean practice, you can think of it as english practice.”

jeongin rolls his eyes at you while stuffing his face full of pizza. “i’m going with you to this out of the kindness of my heart, don’t be mean,” he says with his mouth full.

“you are literally the only one able to go.”

about two weeks before the dance, stray kids was finishing promotions for their comeback and you were walking back to the dressing room.

“wait here,” chan says, stopping you outside the door. confusion paints your face as chan stands in front of the door handle, blocking you from entering. you both sit in silence for a minute when there’s a small knock on the door. chan opens the door without saying anything.

you’re greeted with balloons and streamers. on your left hyunjin is holding out a small cake, on your right, felix, minho, seungmin, and changbin, jisung are holding signs that spell out “PROM?”, and in the middle of jeongin is holding a sign that reads ‘I have a QUESTION and I hope there’s no AWKWARD SILENCE but…”

you gasp, hands covering your mouth, and tears form in the corners of your eyes. you never had been asked to a school dance, and never thought you would be. but here’s jeongin, recruiting the help of all the members, to ask you with a cheesy sign.

“my prom research told me that boys usually ask their partners to prom with a sign,” jeongin says walking towards you. “so what do you say?”

you nod, afraid that if you speak you’ll start to cry. you run to hug jeongin and he drops the sign and envelopes you in a warm hug.

“i can’t believe my parents haven’t touched it since i left.”

“it still fits your personality, cute and bubbly.”

jeongin squeezes himself between you and the wall on your twin size bed. he pulls up the pink, polka dot covers over the two of you and cuddles up next to you.

“how much did you drink?” you ask.

“only one,” he says. “we can’t legally drink here.”

you laugh. “and that stopped none of us.”

your friends had encouraged you to host an after party at your house, since your parents were out of state. you and jeongin drink often in korea, being 18 and 19 accordingly. so he found it funny that none of the party goers could legally purchase alcohol but brought a ton of it to the party. both of you only drank one or two beverages, being the hosts of the party you both wanted to remain sober enough. and red, white, and berry smirnoffs being the drink of choice, jeongin claimed it would make him feel more american.

you both lay there in silence, scrolling through socials and updating the boys on how the dance was.

“oh my god,” you sigh.

“what?” jeongin says, trying to catch a peak of whatever you’re looking at on your phone.

“my friend abby, you know the one in the red dress you meant, just texted us that she’s getting laid tonight.”

“what?” jeongin exclaimed, “she seemed so sweet and innocent.”

“she is!” you laugh. “we all had placed bets on when we’d lose our virginities in, like, middle school, they all said i would be first. but now i guess i’m last.”

“its not a race,” jeongin says.

“i know, i know.” you pout. “but i’m sick of all the boys teasing me for it all the time!”

“they tease me about it too!” he says, sitting up on one of his elbows, turning to face you.

being the youngest two members meant you and jeongin got teased about not doing ‘adult things’ a lot. like neither of you were able to drive, neither ever bought a lottery ticket, or neither had ever had sex.

“what if we did it?”

“what?” you’re in shock, you feel like you can’t move. you had never thought about jeongin like that. you both had agreed that going to prom together was completely platonic, even though he made the sign, you wore matching colors, and you guys exchanged corsages and boutonnieres.

“i’m just thinking like, if we did it, neither of us would be virgins and they would stop teasing us for it.”

jeongin notices your shocked impression and quickly begins to apologize.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it like that, i was just saying that-”

“they would tease us for doing it with each other,” you say, turning your phone off and placing it on your nightstand.

you look over at jeongin and now he looks confused. “although,” you wonder aloud. “we wouldn’t have to tell them, we could just say we aren’t next time they bring it up. lie about who we did it with.”

“how?” jeongin asks.

“i dunno, say i reconnected with someone back here, and then you could say you met someone at the company and it was a fling.”

“they wouldn’t believe that, i don't have the ability to flirt with people like that,” jeongin laughs awkwardly.

the air feels tense. you and jeongin are sat in silence, both staring at each other looking for some sort of answer. jeongin scoots closer to you. you again can smell the smirnoff on his breath. he slowly reaches one of his hands up and places it on your cheek, gently caressing your soft cheek.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, almost at a whisper.

“yeah,” you whisper back.

his lips met yours and it feels like fireworks are going off in your brain. his lips are so soft and move perfectly in sync with yours. he moves his hand from your cheek to the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss. you move one of your hands up his torso, stopping at where his chest and neck met, you can feel the warmth of his skin on your hand and it feels like you both should’ve done this a long time ago.

he slowly assists you onto your back and he lays on top of you, his legs slotted between yours. he keeps one hand on the back of your hand and uses the other to grip onto your thigh and pull it up to wrap around his middle. his gentle ministrations send butterflies down to your core and you mindlessly move both of your hands to his hips and pull his body closer to yours.

you both uncontrollably moan at the sensation of your clothed centers coming in contact with each other. the kiss becomes more messy as jeongin slips his warm tongue into your mouth and you both unconsciously grind onto each other.

jeongin is the first to pull away, a line of spit still connecting your mouths, and both of you out of breath. “jesus y/n,” he said breathlessly.

you giggle as you pull his hips closer to you once again. jeongin smashes his lips onto yours, more hungrily this time. he continues to grind his hips into your clothed core, the sensation driving you wild. he begins to kiss down your jaw and neck stopping at the collar of your shirt.

“can i take this off?” he whispers against your skin and his hand moves from your thigh to the hem of your shirt.

you nod and jeongin slowly starts to lift your shirt up your body, you sit up slightly so that he can fully lift it over your head.

“wow.”

“what?”

“you’re beautiful,” jeongin says as he leans back down to kiss at your now exposed chest. as he kisses down between your breasts and down your stomach you interlock your fingers with his dark, slightly wet hair. when he kisses the spot right above the waistband of your pants he looks back up at you.

“do you want me to…” he trails off.

“if you want to,” you reply, barely a whisper.

“yeah,” he says unsurely. “i don’t know how to.”

you laugh and he places his forehead on your stomach in embarrassment. “y/n don’t laugh at me.”

“i’m not laughing at you. you’re just cute.”

he looks back up at you. “are you kidding me?”

“i’ll tell you what to do, okay?” you reassure him.

you reach for his hands and put them at the waistband of your pajama pants. you assist him in pulling down your pants and panties in one swift motion. the feeling of the cool air in the bedroom on your core sends shivers down your spine. the whole scene hits you now and you realize what you’re about to do with your bandmate. you close your legs in embarrassment and jeongin looks up at you.

“hey, are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asks, holding your hand in his.

you nod slowly. “i’m just nervous, i guess. never done this before.”

“it’s okay, it's me, your best friend in the whole world, i’ll never think of you differently,” he says, squeezing your hand gently.

“you promise?”

“yeah, i do.” he smiles at you, the cute smile you love to see plastered on his face. where his dimples come out and his cheeks are round and you just want to grab him and kiss him all over his face. “so please, open your legs for me.”

you could never dream about your innocent jeongin saying those words to you, his words send a wave of arousal to your core. you very slowly part your legs for him and he stares at your core in awe.

“wow, y/n, you’re fucking beautiful.”

“please,” you whisper, begging for him to touch where you need him most.

“tell me if i’m doing anything wrong, m’kay?” he says, moving his face closer to your core.

he sticks his tongue out and gently swipes it across your clit. the feeling is sent through your whole body and you whimper out in response. jeongin takes that as a ‘go ahead’ and presses his tongue flat against your sensitive bud.

“m-more, please,” you whine, lacing your fingers into his hair again.

jeongin giggles and starts to flick his tongue back and forth on your clit. he lays one of his arms across your stomach to support himself and uses his other hand to part your lips for him. he moves off your clit and gently runs his tongue over your sopping wet hole. you moan in response loudly before slapping one of your hands over your mouth.

jeongin looks up at you. “shh, you don’t want to wake your friends, do you?” he teases.

your mind had been so overwhelmed with the idea of having sex with jeongin that you forgot that all your friends were still in your house from the party. next door was your brother's room in which your brother and two of his friends were sleeping in.

you shake your head but keep your hand over your mouth and jeongin gets back to work. he teasingly pokes his tongue in and out of your hole and you moan out in pleasure again, this time it's muffled by your hand. jeongin moves his tongue back up to your clit and swirls the sensitive muscle in small circles. you tug at his hair with the hand you still have in his soft, black locks. jeongin groans in response and the sound sends shivers down your spine.

“m-more please,” you whine. “your-your fingers.”

jeongin quickly listens to your pleas and slides his index finger into your entrance. you whimper in response and without realizing it, you’re grinding down onto his mouth and fingers. jeongin begins to work his tongue and fingers swiftly at your core, flicking small circles on your clit and slowly fucking your hole with his finger. before long, he adds a second finger and curls them both until he finds the spot that has your back arching off the bed.

he begins working more vigorously, wanting nothing more than for you to finish on his fingers and tongue. he begins to rotate from gentle flicks at your clit to sucking on the bud gently. he adds a third finger and you begin to feel the knot form in your stomach. you’ve never felt like this before, only ever finishing by yourself, the feeling of someone else being in control of it has you seeing stars. as jeongin goes back to swirling small circles on your clit, you feel yourself leaking onto your bedsheets and that your orgasm is going to spill over.

“i’m gonna cum, jeongin please, please,” you whine at a whisper. jeongin doesn’t break his pace and soon you’re biting down on your hand, your eyes rolls back into your head, and you're pulling at jeongin’s hair like your life depends on it. he continues to work you through your orgasm, the sounds of your squelching cunt make jeongin moan.

“jeongin, jeongin,” you exclaim and you push his head away from your core just as he starts to overstimulate you.

he looks up and you see your arousal shine all over his face. he pulls his fingers from your hole and sticks them in his mouth, making a show of swirling his tongue around them to clean them off. he starts to crawl back up to be face to face with you and you find your hands moving to the waistband of his pajama pants and slowly starting to pull them down.

“y/n do you have a condom?” jeongin asks before you can free him completely.

“no,” you answer.

“then we don’t have to it’s-”

“its okay, i’m on the pill.”

“what?” jeongin looks dumbfounded, like you just asked him to hand over his firstborn child.

“i’m serious, it’s okay, i’m on the pill.”

“are you sure?”

“yes, i am so sure. i’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. jeongin please, i need you.”

jeongin could’ve came on the spot. he quickly pulls his pants down and throws them off the bed. you look down to his red and leaking member, begging to be touched.

“holy shit.”

“what?” jeongin exclaims, worry painting his face.

“you’re huge,” you say before you can filter yourself.

jeongin laughs. “i am not.”

“you are not going to fit,” you laugh, grabbing his hips to pull closer to yours.

his solid cock brushes your entrance and jeongin lets out a whimper-like noise. you gently grab his cock with one of your hands to guide him to your begging core. he’s staring at you, eyes wide, looks like tears could boil over at any second. the feeling of his tip at your hole makes both of you moan.

“jeongin, please fuck me.”

“jesus, y/n,” jeongin moans.

jeongin grabs the base of his cock and slowly pushes it inside of you. you grab at his shoulders, the stretch stinging in a pleasurable manner. you’re both staring at each other, eyes widening as he slowly pushes himself inside you. when he bottoms out, you’re both breathing heavy at the new sensation.

“you can move now,” you whisper after you have gotten used to the feeling.

“if i move, i’ll cum,” jeongin mumbles. you laugh, and jeongin moans.

“y/n don’t fucking laugh, it squeezes me,” jeongin whines.

you chuckle and grab jeongin’s hand. you guide him down to your clit, where he quickly understands and begins to rub small circles on it. you moan loudly, not caring about who hears you anymore. the feeling of jeongin playing with your clit and being so full as you seeing stars.

“jeongin, i need you to move please,” you whine.

he takes a deep breath and slowly slides himself in and out of your wet cunt, not stopping his ministrations on your bundle of nerves. the pleasure is overwhelming, you cover your mouth with your hand again and mumble for him to move faster. he begins to move faster and you can feel the knot forming again.

“fuck,” he moans softly. “you feel so good.”

you whimper in response. “jeongin, i’m gonna cum.”

“fuck,” he moans again, beginning to thrust faster. with each thrust you can feed the head of his cock hit your spot and your eyes roll back into your head. you dig your nails that are still on his shoulder into his skin. tears are beginning to form in your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.

“w-will you cum with me?” jeongin says, tears in his eyes and sweat dripping down his face.

you nod quickly and jeongin buries his face in your neck. you feel is cock twitch a couple times before he paints your walls with his release. you’re quick to follow and soon you’re both a moaning and weeping mess. both uncontrollably thrusting your hips into each other as you finish, leaking all over your bed sheets.

you both lay in silence for a minute, calming yourselves down and slowing your breathing. you’re gently running your fingers through his hair and his rubbing circles into your hips with his thumbs. you’re the first to break the silence.

“are you okay?”

“i’m great, are you?”

“mhm, feel great.”

“yeah.”

“are you still hard?” you ask, realizing he hadn’t pulled out of you yet.

“maybe,” he chuckles. “wanna go again?”

i got way too carried away with this one hehe

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 6 months

Text

1.6k / 19 / same continuity as TF141's free use medic

...

Soap steps inside the makeshift saferoom with you and slams the door behind him. He looks down at you, his eyes hot and aggressive from combat moments before. You'd heard him loose all kinds of insults and frankly brutal threats on the enemy soldiers after they'd almost managed to get ahold of you. Even now, with both of you relatively safe and the room clear, you know the adrenaline will take time to run its course in his system.

He sees the look you're giving him. "What?" he snaps. "Got a problem? Want me a little less loose with my tongue? Maybe you ought to be, considering all the things I could say right now."

You set your jaw, patience short. "Yeah? Say it."

"Well," he says, "let's say I think it's bloody embarrassing that you've been acting like a moody little twat ever since we left the bird."

You cross your arms. "Yeah? So what?"

"So I think you should stop acting like a goddamn child before you make me put you over my knee."

nsfw ⬇

"You're the one who wanted to come this way. I told you not to."

"And I said that I was coming anyway," he snaps, leaning closer to you so that your faces are only a few inches apart. "I'm startin' to think that might've been a mistake."

You stand your ground against him, hot, self-righteous anger simmering under your skin. "What was your first fucking clue?"

"I think the real question," Johnny says, his temper rising as well, "is why I still waste my time on the likes of you."

"Because all you care about is getting your dick wet," you snap. "And you're too lazy to buy a fucking fleshlight."

His head snaps back a little at your reply. His expression darkens. "And all you care about is making people miserable just because you're so goddamn miserable yourself, huh?"

"Yeah. That must be it." You can't deny the spark this is lighting in your gut, either. It's like you need the catharsis.

His eyes travel slowly over your body before he leans back a little, looking you up and down. His expression is still murky, but there's something like interest there. "So you're just gonna stand there and talk like that? Is that what you want to do?"

"Depends," you snap. "Are you just gonna let me keep baiting you, or are you gonna shut me up?"

His expression seems to grow more intense for a few seconds, and then, without warning, his hand tangles in your hair and his mouth presses against yours. He kisses you roughly, aggressively, groping you roughly under your uniform.

You growl into his mouth, feeling his hands on you. It's rough, but you want it rougher. "Is that all?" you hiss. "Do you even want to fuck?"

"That all you want me for?" he barks. He grabs your wrists and pulls you in close. His eyes flick up and down your body, taking in every curve, before he leans down again and whispers roughly in your ear. "And let's not get it twisted here," he adds, his voice low. "Much as I like it when you act like a little tease, I came here to fuck you. So shut up and let me do it how I want."

Before you can retort, he grabs your waist hard and pushes you against the wall. He slides one hand into your uniform, grinding the heel of his palm against your core. You groan through gritted teeth.

He chuckles. "That's more like it."

With his free hand, he grabs your chin and pulls your head back so he can meet your eyes again. "Tell the truth," he says, breathing hard. "Are you being a brat on purpose so I'll be rougher with ya?"

You feel yourself get wet immediately at that and press your thighs together. "Maybe."

The corner of his mouth twitches. "You really are a fucking troublemaker, aren't you?" He suddenly releases your chin and jerks the neckline of your uniform down, exposing your breasts and nearly tearing the fabric as he kneels down between your legs. Your breath hitches as he starts suckling on your nipple, eliciting a whimper from you.

"Soap, we... we don't have much time."

He hums around your nipple, pulling it gently. "Don't you dare go changin' your tune now, hen," he warns, his voice like gravel. "Not when you were just beggin’ for it so hard." He undoes your pants and slides his hand back in, reaching for your panties and ripping them aside. He slides two fingers inside you, and you gasp. "Not when you're already so fucking wet."

He works you over until you're arching into him, your knee tucked under his arm and the soft flesh of your tits pressed into his teeth.

He smiles wickedly. "Oh, I thought ye were a brat, but now..." He licks along the tendons in your neck, moving up to your mouth. "Now I think you're openin' right up for me." He kisses you deeply, his tongue pushing past your lips. His fingers move faster, his need driving him faster and rougher.

The comm on your neck crackles to life. You bite down on a moan just in time to hear Graves' voice in your ear. The static jolts you back to awareness. You're standing in a dark room, mid-mission, coming apart in Soap's hands.

"This is Shadow 0-1," Graves says. "Encountering trouble reaching rendezvous point." There's a beat of silence as you bite your lip, not trusting yourself to speak. "... Do you copy?"

Soap's fingers slow but don't still inside you. "Copy that, Shadow 0-1. Anyone hurt?"

"Negative," Graves replies. "Just finding an alternative route. Assuming you two are making your way just fine. How's our little medic?"

You see deep irritation flash through Soap's eyes when Graves says that. You're not sure why Graves gets such satisfaction out of flirting with you in front of your team. You just know Soap's nerves are raw and his patience is razor-thin at this point in the mission.

"I'm fine," you say quickly. "We're close to the rendezvous point. How long will you be?"

"Not long at all, sweetheart," Graves replies. You hate that your cheeks heat up immediately.

"We'll be there in ten minutes,” Soap interject, sharp and strained. He glares at you. "And we'll be keepin' our voices low."

Your heart hammers in your chest as you hear Graves chuckle lightly over the comm. “Understood. She's in good hands, right, Soap?”

Soap switches his comm off, muttering something about that bloody fuckin' idiot under his breath. Then he shifts his focus back to you.

"Soap--"

"Felt you clench up just then. Don't act like you didn't."

You ignore that, pushing on his shoulders even though he doesn't budge. "We should keep going. We need to stay focused."

His grip only tightens around you. "Focus, my arse."

He shoves his fingers into you roughly again. You cry out in surprise, your head hitting the wall behind you as your body spasms. He redoubles his speed. Your hands hit the wall, almost climbing it in your haste to regain some semblance of control. Your thighs clench and twitch with the sudden, intense pleasure his rough fingertips send through your every nerve ending.

Soap's voice is hot on your chest. "Still likin' this, hm?" His fingers drag your inner walls tortuously. "Still want to cum?"

Yeah, and you hate how close he has you to cumming already. You've been too fucking pent up. Dealing with Soap's bullshit, even when he's not inside you, just makes it worse.

He starts to slow down and you buck your hips into him impatiently. You reach for his belt, but he pushes your hand away. You curse and slide your hand to your clit instead. "Let me cum on your cock already," you grit out. You're not sure what's making you more desperate to finish--your body's urges or the urgency in the front of your mind to get to the rendezvous point.

"I wouldn't want to do that," Soap murmurs against your shoulder, his breath warm and ragged. "Not until I'm good and ready." A smirk seeps into his voice as he rubs deeper, grinding against your clit as you're trying to work it yourself. The pleasure jolts through you like lightning, and you bite back another cry. "You don't call the shots here, hen. I do."

"You're not my--" Your protests are cut off by a gasp as he thrusts hard again, driving you closer to the edge.

"Might have a whole team to patch up once we get there," he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe. "They'll need their medic back in tip-top shape, won't they?"

He pulls out abruptly, leaving you panting and cursing.

"Soap-- fuck--"

As you struggle to catch your breath, Soap fixes your clothes. There's a dark look in his eyes and a smirk on his face. You know instantly he was waiting until he felt you on the very edge of your orgasm--could feel your walls tightening up on his finger--before pulling out. He wanted to get you that close to the edge and leave you frustrated.

He refastens the last buttons on your shirt and leans in close to your ear again. "Next time, don't engage with that asshole." He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "But don't worry... I'll take care of you later. Let's move out. Wouldn't want to keep your man Graves waiting."

...

more Soap / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

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sl-vega · 13 days

Text

💌 PROJECT: LOVE LIASON!

🌷 - a highschool social media au ll scaramouche x fem! reader -🌷

𝜗𝜚 SYNOPSIS: you're head over heels in love with childe, and scaramouche is (begrudingly) smitten with his "rival" mona. and, by sheer divine coincidence, you both happen to be the best friends of each other's objects of affection, so you strike a deal with each other. if scaramouche helps you ask out childe, you'll set him up with mona. so with the annual spring formal right around the corner, the two of you vow to be each other's wingmans so you can end your junior year on a high note (and maybe even kick off your senior year with a new relationship!). between, scheming, planning, and researching, you and scaramouche find yourselves developing a new relationship via helping each other out. now the real question is whether this friendship will remain as a pure platonic bond, or blossom into something more?

genre: strangers to friends to lovers, friends/classmates to lovers, pair the suitors, smau, high school au, modern au, social media au, crack, comedy

warnings: swearing, crude humour, potentially ooc, keys/kms jokes, suggestive/sensitive content, pictures used are not meant to depict y/n's physical appearance

status: ongoing

side ships: navia x chlorinde

additional notes:

this smau is heavily inspired by toradora (finished it recently and I adored it)

this will get more frequently updated (once the first chapter drops) as I have already made several chapters in advance

taglist is open! as per usual, just send me an ask or comment if you want to be tagged!

💌 means that the chapter contains written material!

dividers by @cafekitsune a + @anitalenia

ᥫ᭡ STARRING:

0.1; retired theater kids // 0.2 abandonment issues personified

PROJECT LOVE LIASON IS IN ACTION!

00-PROLOGUE; fate hates me

ACT ONE; we wing-manning?

01; we need to stop meeting like this - [💌] // 02; stalker! // 03; I will file a restraining order // 04; next door nuisance - [💌] // 05; bestie privelege - [💌] // 06; girl talk! // 07; smitten schemers // 08; operation: first (study) date! - [💌] // 09; mission failed successfully // 10; repaying the favour - [💌] // 11; it's not stupid if it works // 12; progress! // 13; wiki how to flirt with your crush - [💌] // 14; it's giving wattpad // 15; recon + some reconciliation // 16; free vacation?!

ACT TWO; cuz baby, you're a firework!!

17; simulanka! // 18; packing while procrastinating // 19; plotting coincidence // 20; fancy meeting you here - [💌] // 21; abort mission! - [💌] // 22; on board! // 23; taking flight // 24; injustice on air // 25; falling for you (literally) - [💌] // 26; crappy sky-fi // 27; (arguably) safe landing - [💌] // 28; checking in + checking out // 29; the most magical place on earth!™ - [💌] // 30; consumerism core!!! // 31; how do you talk to your crush? (asking for a friend) - [💌] // 32; mentally preparing // 33; kill me now - [💌] // 34; I owe you one // 35; foiled plans - [💌] // 36; - // 37; -

ACT THREE; pair the suitors

[MORE TBA]

🎀 - taglist!;

@agaygothicmushroom @035814 @freyao7, @sketcheeee @tsukimara @shyentsmissingink @justpeachyteastea @aries-afk @lxkeeeee @sakiimeo @sugxryratz @shutingstar @lalaloveallmydays @bellflower1257 @haruumei @kichiyosh1 @littlemisssatanist @dee-zbignuts @candyescapism @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @princess-peachy @franaby @jllyfsh-lvr @heusalettle, @automaticpatroltragedy, @c4ttheart, @meigalaxy @misswetty @introvertaku02, @eco-sal, @trulyylee, @lily-lmao @kazumiku, @kunikuzushis-darling, @vitanye, @livelaughlovekuni @imnotyizhuo @y00yim @ainnofinway @akagi0021 @rook-kisser @mitsuribe

#💌 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙹𝙴𝙲𝚃: 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝙻𝙸𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽 #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scara smau #scaramouche smau #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n #wanderer smau #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin smau

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captainreecejames · 6 months

Text

Wrong City - CL16 smau

in which you commit to the bit on Instagram

authors note : I hope you guys like this one! Originally it was going to be a different post every city and driver, but I didn't think that would really be enough so it became a short story on charles. Let me know if you want one on a different driver as I still have a few captions in the notes.

pairing : Charles Leclerc x FEM!reader

warnings : none

ynusername posted --------

liked by bsfinstagram, yourmominsta and others

ynusername as the french say "soo la voo" or whatever

joris_trouche and who ate that second gelato? ↳ ynusername I had both duh 🙄🙄🙄 ↳ joris_trouche and that isn't Charles favorite flavor ↳ ynusername it's obviously my second favorite

pierregasly what??? ↳ ynusername isn't that what you say? I'm confused ↳ francisca.cgomes looks right to me ↳ ynusername thank you!

username22 quick flex in italy

username14 oh to kiss Charles leclerc in front of the trevi fountain in Rome, Italy

carlossainz55 I'm telling!!! ↳ charles_leclerc booo you whore ↳ charles_leclerc yn made me type that ↳ charles_leclerc but please don't tell

yourfriend1 did you try those gelato places I sent? ↳ ynusername yes, we agree they were so good! ↳ joris_trouche we??

username12 a woman in a white dress in italy will always have me going 🤨 ↳ username36 miss yn do you have anything you want to share with the class

username29 she's chronically on tiktok like me

landonorris get this off the tl ↳ charles_leclerc just cause youre chronically single doesn't mean we need to cater to your needs ↳ ynusername get him babe!

liked by georgerussell63, lewishamilton and others

ynusername when in rome 🇮🇹🤪

pierregasly don't fucking piss me off ↳ ynusername oooh someone's even more sensitive than the monagasque

francisca.cgomes you are so pretty it actually hurts me ↳ ynusername babe look in a mirror ↳ francisca.cgomes our spot in 15 ↳ ynusername see you then babe

username27 oh she's committing to the bit huh ↳ charles_leclerc you have no idea ↳ username27 CHARLES HI

username83 when will it be my turn?? 😭😭

joris_trouche was the croissant good ↳ ynusername yep and I didn't share it ↳ charles_leclerc she tripped running away from me when I asked for some ↳ ynusername i thought we weren't sharing that info ↳ charles_leclerc sorry ma cherie

oscarpiastri you let that croissant touch the wall? ↳ ysusername of course not, what do you take me for? a loser

lorenzotl hope you had a good time ↳ ynusername we did <3

liked by yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly and others

ynusername what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas

username71 can't wait for the Vegas post now

username26 okay now she's teasing us about Vegas '19 ↳ username38 LER US KNOWWWWW

arthurleclerc bestie!!! ↳ ynusername little bro!!! ↳ arthurleclerc 😑🤧

username45 she really is feeding us with boyfriend charles content ↳ username28 I know, thank you yn. 🙏🏼🙏🏼

bsfinstagram she's everything, he's just there ↳ charles_leclerc accepting my role as trophy husband ↳ bsfinstagram husband 🤨🤨 ↳ charles_leclerc you know what I mean 😑

username74 now why are Arthur and BSF being weird ↳ username90 asking the right questions cause why are they being weird 🤨

alex_albon stop kissing on the tl, there are kids here ↳ ynusername weird to use third person but to each their own ↳ alex_albon im talking about logan

liked by scuderiaferrari, lilymhe and others

ynusername you know I love a monaco boy 🇲🇨

load more comments

username82 HE LOOKS SO GOOD OMG ↳ username82 LIKE THAT POST RACE GLOW IS JUST 🧑🏼‍🍳💋 ↳ username82 WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE ↳ username82 WHY ARE YOU IN ALL WHITE MS. YN

username63 Ma'am, you simply cannot post this then disappear

charles_leclerc ma cherie 🤍 ↳ ynusername you called?

lewishamilton congrats! ↳ ynusername thank you sir lewis. ❤️❤️

sebastianvettel wishing you two all the best ↳ ynusername thanks seb, from both of us

scuderiaferrari can't wait to welcome mrs. leclerc to the paddock!

username20 that post race glow hit so hard they got married

username30 yn please tell us he didn't wear that to the chapel ↳ ynusername he looked very handsome at the chapel, don't worry ↳ username30 that somehow doesn't make me feel better. was he wearing a costume?

tomholland2013 congrats you two! ↳ zendaya i guess our invites got lost in the mail? ↳ ynusername reception soon!!

yourmominsta my beautiful girl and handsome son-in-law ↳ ynusername love you mama ↳ charles_leclerc love you maman

username93 when she goes from the g in wag to the w >>

olliebearman you look amazing yn! congrats ❤️ ↳ ynusername awww thank you ollie ❤️

maxverstappen1 congratulations, no inchidents hopefully? ↳ ynusername you just can't let it go, huh? 😭 ↳ maxverstappen1 nope, little leclercs will know this story from my point of view ↳ ysusername please slow down 😐

lilymhe party soon? ↳ ynusername yes! I need a proper bachelorette party

username29 wait this wasn't planned?? ↳ username22 girl, vegas weddings are not really ever planned ↳ username29 yeah but when did he propose to her? if they didn't even have time for the bach parties, then i don't think they thought about this at all, makes me sad. you don't get married on a whim ↳ username22 take a breath. this is not your relationship ↳ username94 also they've been together for years, so this really isn't something out of the blue. plus they've joked about getting married on twitter and insta before, so it's something they both wanted. not that any of this is really our business

bonus post

liked by ynusername, andferrari007 and others

charles_leclerc and ynusername forever

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x fem!reader #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc soc med au #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 smau #danielle writes

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evolnoomym · 1 month

Text

I’ll Make You Love Me💋

Bfd!Joel Miller x f!reader

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: In Joel’s eyes you are an unpleasant person. Yet he has to pretend as if he would not want to get rid of you for Sarah’s sake, she loves you so much you are her best friend. Well Joel also feels terrible for the rather unethical thoughts he has of you.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni !!!!!

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: no y/n, introducing “Lucky”, female oc character, Sarah is 18, Lucky is 21, Joel’s age is not mentioned but he’s at least double Lucky’s age, degradation, humiliation, Dark, Joel is mean, he calls you Bitch/Slut/Junkie, spanking, dub-con, Daddy Kink, Manspreading hehe 😉, pervy!Joel, tears, Joel enjoys her tears, manhandling, hair pulling, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, a tiny fluffy moment, alludes to BJ, Joel can also be nice,

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: this is for @toxicanonymity ‘s manspreading olympics. ❤️‍🔥

Shoutout to @cafekitsune and @saradika-graphics for the dividers ❤️

Big thank you to @jennaispunk and @joelmillerisapunk for beta reading ❤️‍🔥🌙

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly 💋

Songs I listened to while writing:

What You Do by James Gillespie

Bad Girls by M.I.A

Maneater by Nelly Furtado

Salvatore by Lana Del Rey

Sad Girl by Lana Del Rey

Waiting Game by BANKS

Into It by Chase Atlantic

You should feel bad for thinking of him in such a peculiar way. You should be ashamed for even considering him an option. He is totally off limits considering he’s much older, a busy mature man and most importantly Sarah’s Dad. Sarah the sweet girl that has been your Bestfriend for over 2 years.

It excited you in the beginning how much Joel hated your presence in his daughter’s life. He didn’t approve of this friendship ever since Sarah at 16 years old first brought you, her 19 year old friend, over for the first time.

In front of Sarah he tried his hardest to appear polite but you could see right through his facade from the beginning. And one evening when Sarah was already fast asleep you gave Joel a piece of your mind in the kitchen.

“Mister Miller let’s stop these silly games we both know what’s going on…you don’t like me and I couldn’t fucking care less.” You scoff and get off the counter, slowly drawing closer to Joel “You hate me so much but Sarah loves me soooooo much and imagine how upset she’d be to know that her Daddy doesn’t want her to be happy. Wouldn’t that be a shame,huh?” You question with an enticing head tilt.

Now you’re right in front of him, toe to toe with big bad imposing Joel Miller. You can feel the pulling in your lower belly from being so close and most importantly smelling his manly musky scent. You remind yourself that you gotta stay focused if you want to win this game.

You get even closer until your able to place your hands on his warm broad chest sliding them slightly upwards his shoulders. “What the hell r ya doin?” Joel hisses.

You lean up to whisper in his ear “Nothing, just letting you know that I eat guys like you for breakfast, I chew you up and spit you out. You’re not a threat to me, old man.” You pull back and give him a sinister sickly smile.

The wickedness in your tone causes goosebumps to prickle on his flesh.

You feed off of seeing him scared. You enjoy knowing what kinda effect you have on this usually so collected man.

“Goodnight Mister Miller, better start sleeping with one eye open from now on.” You giggle while skipping up the stairs.

That was the start of it all.

Now 2 years later with Sarah just having turned 18, Joel realizes that you two are gonna keep him on his toes even more than already.

The 18th birthday celebration was already a disaster, what Joel assumed would be a relaxed family gathering turned into you crashing the party and taking Sarah out, of course Sarah was excited so how could Joel say no.

Well when you two didn’t return at 12 pm like promised he admittedly got worried, but he wanted to trust Sarah so he tried to stay calm.

At 3 am he hears the screeching tires from some show off guys car and loud drunkish giggling. The princesses have officially arrived back home from their trip, almost 4 hours too late.

When Joel opens the front door he sees you and Sarah practically half draped over your shoulder stubbling up the starirs in sloppy drunk steps. You two are giggling and mumbling at each other in a language Joel does not understand, it certainly can’t be English.

You immediately glock his disgruntled face, the alcohol cursing through your system emboldens you so you haphazardly shove him out of the way. You sigh loudly and obviously annoyed at his antics all while herding Sarah up the stairs.

Joel cannot believe that after dragging Sarah off, taking her to god knows where, letting her drink and god forbid smoke… you still have the audacity to behave so entitled.

You put Sarah in danger and don’t feel an ounce of remorse. Joel hates your guts, in his eyes you are an entitled little brat that desperately needs to be put in her place.

Even though Joel hates you, he at the same time cannot keep his head clear of dirty images of your young and tight body. He thinks about the pool day where you showed up in the tiniest bikini he could think of.

Prancing around all while he had to resist the urge to just tear it off. You knew he was looking and he knew that you enjoyed his eyes flitting all over your enticing figure.

The both of you were tethering on a dangerous line, that could cause big trouble. How would Sarah feel knowing this is happening behind her back.

You constantly antagonize him like that wearing short skirts and tight shirts with no bra because apparently it’s too warm for that. Running into him, pressing your perky tits against his bicep in passing, coincidentally bending over in front of him. Joel was quickly approaching a breaking point, his resolve crumbling more and more with each time that he had to tug at his throbbing length all while thinking about you.

Joel clearly underestimated how much you’d play him and how much better at it you are. At this rate you’ll win this game. He however has a plan, that might even after everything still save him the success.

Joel only has to wait for the right time to attack, catch you off guard and use that to his advantage.

He gets pulled from his thoughts when he hears something that confuses him, you are singing and it sounds beautiful.

Joel creeps up the stairs as quietly as possible to not alert either of you.

The closer he gets to Sarah's door the clearer it becomes. Joel pushes the bedroom door open by only a few inches to get a look at the situation and it makes his heart roar. You sit on the side of the bed we’re Sarah is nicely tucked in, your body facing Joel but your eyes locked on Sarah’s face. Softly singing a lullaby in a language foreign to him while gently stroking over her cheeks, smoothing the hair out of her face, almost like a mother would with her baby. Something Sarah never got to experience in childhood since her mother left so early on.

Joel realizes that despite the rough exterior you put up there’s more to you than just a cold hearted homewrecker, you care for Sarah, you take care of her and watch over her wherever you two run off to. Joel feels gratitude for someone he admittedly doesn’t know a whole lot about.

Joel has seen enough and retreats back downstairs.

When you stumble into the living room to bid your goodbyes Joel looks like he’s deep in thoughts.

So you announce “Sarah is sleeping, make sure she drinks lotssssssss of water when she wakes up and takes more aspirin if needed. I’m out.”

You turn to walk off when Joel gets up “Hey ya sure bout walkin home now? I can drive ya.” He offers but you decline “Nah it’s alright Mr. Miller I can protect myself, I’ve always done it. Besides, why do you suddenly care,huh?“ you sarcastically laugh while slipping out of the house.

When you’ve turned away from him the snarky smile falls right off your face.

Joel actually felt somewhat sorry that night for the way he treated you all those times before.

That lasted until you decided to smoke weed with Sarah in his lil work shed that was situated in the back of his garden.

Joel would’ve realized either way if not by the smells wafting up his nostrils the moment he entered the shed later in the evening, then surely by Sarah’s unstoppable giggling, her slow mumbled speech or by the food flash she got.

When the two of you begged him to let you sleep over he eagerly agreed. Chalk it up to the weed that numbs your brain that this quick reaction didn’t seem suspicious.

Joel knows you will find him, you’ll see the open back door and walk right into his trap. You never sleep the night through when you spend it over at the Millers, he can hear you getting up and wandering around the house. Sarah on the other hand has got to be blessed with an extremely deep sleep.

The thought of overpowering you makes him smile giddily into the darkness of the shed.

As usual you wake up in the middle of the night, ever since being a little child the sleeping became a struggle and nothing works except tiring yourself out.

You get up out of Sarah’s huge plush bed, slip out into the hallway and down the stairs. There you immediately catch the wide open back door leading to the garden. Odd, Mister Miller would never in a million years leave that open.

You walk up to the sliding doors and when you stand in the threshold staring into the dark backyard you see that the shed is left open too.

Out of stupid curiosity you decide to investigate, not the smartest to perhaps walk right into a burglar who has a weapon but you don’t really care.

So you pat the way across the cold grass, it tickles the sole of your bare feet and the fresh midnight breeze actually feels awfully pleasant on your heated skin. Halfway you stop and glance upward at the beautiful full moon shining down on you.

After taking a deep breath you continue onward towards the shed.

When you reach the opening of the shed there’s really nothing you can see or hear. So you step further into it, carefully putting one foot in front of the other.

You feel like someone is watching you but you are unable to pinpoint where it’s coming from. It’s unsettling so you do something considerably stupid “Hello, hello is there anyone? Mister Miller are you in here?” You call out with a shaking voice.

No response.

A light flickering in the center of the room catches you off guard and now you can see him, the one that watched you.

Mr.Miller is sitting on a bar chair behind him is his working table, he leans his back against the edge of the table.

Your eyes immediately go to his slightly sweaty face -the Texas heat is unrelenting even in the middle of the night- he looks gorgeous illuminated by the tiny lamp glowing behind his shoulder on the cupboard. He’s smirking sinisterly at you.

You let your eyes wander over his broad shoulders that are clad in a green flannel. Inevitably your eyes slip down to his wide spread jeans covered thighs, they look so big and muscular.

He catches your staring and drops a hand on his thigh that slowly starts stroking up and down. Making you gulp audibly.

“M..M-..Mister M..Miller what are you doing here?” You stammer out.

“I was waitin for ya to come find me.” He huffs gruffly.

He continues “Close the door behind ya Lucky.”

You feel somewhat hypnotized by his slow calculated words as you, out of pure reflex, reach for the handle behind you.

As you shut the door, effectively trapping yourself with him he murmurs “That’s a good girl. Ya do know how to listen Lucky Girl.”

Hearing Joel call you a good girl in his signature dark molasses like voice had you squeezing your thighs together.

“Hmm ya like that baby, huh?” He inquires

“N..no, that would be fuckin weird.” You try sounding sincere but to no avail Joel has seen through you a long time ago.

“Lucky you are liar, a slut, a junkie..-“

You hiss “What did you just say?” While stepping closer to where he sits.

“Ya heard me right Lucky, you are a fuckin junkie, smoking weed in my shed with Sarah. Are ya outta your mind?” He throws back

“You gotta be kidding me, right? Big Bad Mr Miller is shitting his pants cuz of a bit of weed.” You wheeze.

“That’s enough.” He decides, getting up in one swift imposing movement. Suddenly he’s the one towering over you and he looks pissed.

He’s on you in the blink of an eye threading his hand through your hair grabbing a decent amount by which he pulls you with him.

“Ouch…ouch what the fuck let me go.” You huff while trying to get his hands out of your hair. But he doesn’t appreciate the disobedience and starts pulling even harder, which brings you to tears from the pain.

“Ohhh poor baby Lucky, look at those tears, ya not havin’ fun huh? That’s too bad darlin’ but I don’t care.”

He sits back down on the chair and in one swift motion pulls you over his thighs. Your belly rests on his crotch and your whole world is turned upside down.

“Clearly no one has ever taught ya a lesson, that’s why ya always behave like a bratty bitch.”

His free hand flits to your sleeping shorts and practically tears them off of you. At the ripping sound you yelp.

“Hmm look at that plump ass and those sweet lacy panties…ya always wear this slutty underwear when ya have a sleepover?” All while he’s groping you.

“What the hell are you doing Joel?”

“Aw is it not Mr.Miller anymore? Have we lost our manners lil girl? Or is there a better name for me, hmm?” He inquires.

For some reason you know exactly what he wants to hear but you're not inclined to give in. Yet.

“It’s fine baby ya don’t need to say it now, I’ll make you scream that goddamn name you fucking slut.” He pulls on your hair “Ya hear me bitch.?”

All you manage is a meak nod before he lets go off your face.

You can feel his warm and calloused hand on your cheek squeezing, stroking and poking. Then his hand is gone but not for long. You can’t even react. He's that fast in delivering the first smack to your behind.

“Ya gonna take what i give ya and behave cuz you wanna be a good girl, right? Ya wanna be my good girl,hmm?”

“Y..y-yes I do Mr.Miller.” You say defeated.

“Atta Girl. I think 10 should do it, for now, until ya feel like acting up again..”

He is unrelenting when it comes to punishing you, each time the impact is harder and more unexpected than the previous. You have to bite your lip in order to suppress a moan, even though it hurts it’s incredible. You can feel yourself becoming wet, with each time that his hand collides with your behind more slick gushes out of your pussy. At this point there must be a wet patch visible.

His bulge pressing against your stomach tells you how much this is affecting him too.

“Lucky I know ya try to hide it but I can smell how she’s leaking and if I check I’m sure I’ll find that cunt all sloppy for me, right?”

“Y..y-yes.”

“That’s what i thought.” And with that he continues the assault on your cheeks.

And it may be only ten but he makes them count, the blows are measured and hard. You guess your cheeks must be glowing at this point.

When he finally reaches 10 it feels like hours have passed since you decided to go wander around. He’s massaging your bruised ass. You finally feel like you’re getting a moment of peace but that couldn’t be further from the truth, because Joel threads his hand back into your hair and yanks you to face him.

He’s just staring at you, accessing you and then he kisses you.

It’s rough, teeth clashing, tongues swirling around, his hands urgently grabbing your face, your fingers tangled in his graying curls.

Though the kissing is over before it can escalate too far, Joel is once again pulling you by your hair, this time he’s more gentle, he pulls you off of his knees and pushes you down on them in the space between his spread thighs. You’re at eye level with his crotch now that looks painfully hard.

As you peek up at him through your lashes you muse “Looks like you got a problem, a big problem…Daddy. You want me to help you?” All while innocently tilting your head at him.

He grabs your face roughly “Shut up Lucky and put ya smart mouth to better use.”

“Don’t underestimate me Daddy. I’ll make you love me.” You say while giving him a cheeky wink.

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

Npt: @toxicanonymity @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelmillerisapunk @joelslegalwhre @joelsdagger @tonysopranosrobe @luxurychristmaspudding @mountainsandmayhem @moonlitbirdie @joelalorian @sawymredfox @thundermartini @ace-turned-confused @almostfoxglove @pedropeach @joelsgreys @joelstummy @ovaryacted @iamasaddie @wintrwinchestr @littlemisspascal

#Joel Miller #manspreading olympics #Joel Miller Fic #bfd!joel #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller tlou #joel miller age gap #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #kinda dark #My writing #Mina Writes

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stevesbipanic · 9 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 19: Steddie as Parents

Steve hadn't been able to stop looking at her. Eddie would be home soon, the snow had really started falling so they'd closed the shop early. Steve wasn't thinking about that however, not with the small bundle in his arms.

His parents had called the day before, said they'd be visiting, they never did that. Since Steve had moved out with Eddie into a little apartment downtown they'd cut off contact. Steve hadn't gotten many words out when they'd knocked on the door. They'd simply bushed the basket into his arms and a pile of documents and left. The papers were still sat on the coffee table in front of him.

He heard a jingle of keys and the front door opening, glancing up for the first time in an hour just to shush his boyfriend who was now just inside the door frozen and looking at the two of them.

"Shh, she's sleeping."

"She?"

Steve nodded, gesturing to the stack of papers.

"Her name is Emily. She's my little sister."

Eddie took careful steps and sat quietly beside him, taking in the face of the sleeping baby girl.

"She's beautiful, but sweetheart, what is she doing here?"

Steve sniffled at the question, the reality of the situation finally hitting him.

"My parents didn't want her, at least they figured that out earlier than they did about me." Tears had started to glisten in his eyes.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry. So they brought her here? That's what their visit was about?"

Steve nodded again.

"Um, they've signed adoption documents, there's a letter in there, they said she's mine if I want her, or I can give her up."

Eddie wrapped his arm carefully around Steve.

"Did you decide?"

"I can't give her up, Eds. She's so small, and she didn't ask to be born into my stupid family, I want to show her she's loved."

Eddie smiled softly.

"I think we can handle that."

"We?"

Eddie nodded.

"She's a good start to those six little nuggets, sweetheart, don't think you can scare me away that easy."

That Christmas, one extra stocking was hung up by the tree, and Steve's home felt a little more whole.

Ao3

#stranger things #steddie parents #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington has bad parents #christmas

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clockwayswrites · 10 months

Text

A Broken Sort of Normal- Part 19

WC: 2134, Masterpost

Danny sit up straighter in his chair as he states his name, but Wally can see the wince that Danny tries to hide. Absently, Wally runs through Danny’s schedule of care and when the other will be able to have more pain medication.

“Were you born with powers?” Bruce continues.

“No.”

Wally wants to go to Danny. He wants to tell him that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that Danny has powers. It doesn’t mater how he got them. It doesn’t matter that Wally didn’t know. None of it matters to Wally; he’s just glad that Danny is still here.

“Are you comfortable explaining how did you got your powers?”

Danny runs his hand through his hair. He’s nervous. “Some of it. The broad strokes. It was a lab accident, because of course there was. My parents are ecto scientists, they study ghosts. They’re not… let’s just say don’t read their research into ghostly behavior. They are brilliant engineers though. They managed to build a portal to the Infinite Realms—”

“Minging knobheads,” John curses quietly.

“—and I was sorta in the portal when it turned on. Which, um, killed me and revived me at the same time. I was electrocuted while my system was flooded with ectoplasm.”

Killed.

Danny had— Danny had died. Again, before, Danny had died. Wally closed his eyes and swallowed around the catch in his throat. He almost never got the chance to know Danny. A hand fit into his and Wally knows instantly that it’s Dick’s. He grips it back tightly. At least he isn’t listening to this alone.

“It’s not so much that I got powers, as that because I’m half dead, I’m half ghost and I can do the things that ghosts can do. Invisibility, intangibility, flight… things like that. Long story short, someone had to stop the ghosts that the portal let through—”

John is up and pacing now. Zatanna doesn’t even try to stop him.

“—so I sort of became the town hero. I went by Phantom. It was… well, you’ve all been there.”

God, Wally wishes Danny didn’t know how that was.

“Kid… did you even have anyone to help you?” Barry asks.

Danny shrugs. “Two friends and eventually Ja… my older sister.. There are a few ghosts that were sometimes allies but ghosts…”

“Ghosts aren’t good or evil, they’ve got obsessions,” John explains into the silence. “Sometimes those obsessions motivate the ghosts in a way that seems one way or another. It only works out for you as long as your needs aligns with their obsession.”

Wally’s mind spins.

“Danny,” Bruce asks with very careful words, “do you have an obsession?”

He searches back through his memories of Danny.

“Yes.”

It couldn’t be anything anyone would see as bad or dangerous.

“Protection. My obsession is protection. It’s not as compelling to me as it is for a full ghost. For me it’s more like a hunger craving or itch, but it is there. It’s a good part of why I became a paramedic.”

Oh. That made so much sense.

“That’s our Danny,” Danna says, softly, from in their group.

“Why did you not simply join us as a hero?” Diana asks.

“Before, well, things were… complicated? There’s this government agency that considers ghosts non-sentient and—”

Danny jerks back in his chair at all the exclamations that rang out in the room at that. It isn’t just a reaction to the sudden noise, Wally realizes, Danny looks startled at being defended.

It breaks Wally’s heart.

“It’s okay!” Danny says over the din. “They were always pretty incompetent, really, even when working with my parents. I never even ended up vivisected or anything!”

Gar clamps a hand over his mouth and mutters. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Danny,” Dianna says his name gently, “have your parents ever attacked you?”

“They don’t know I’m a halfa. They don’t know I’m Phantom,” Danny says. There’s a pleading note to his voice that makes Wally agree with Gar; he’s going to be sick.

“But they’ve attacked Phantom,” Dianna says. It’s not a question, but Danny nods anyways. “Danny, do we need to set up protection for you from your parents?”

“They don’t know—”

“Kid,” Barry interrupts, “what you did was on the news. Like, every news station across the world. I think they know now.”

Danny sits back in his chair. He picks at the already frayed edge of the hoodie. Suddenly he looks small in a way that Wally’s only seen when Danny’s been in the middle of a panic attack. Any strength Danny’s gathered the last few days seems to leave him as his shoulders slump. “Maybe. I guess… I don’t know how they’ll take the news. It’s… maybe. We’ll, um, more than that someone needs to make sure the portal stays closed down. If the ghosts start coming through again…”

The hand Danny presses against his chest shakes. “I’m not as strong as I used to be. I don’t know if my powers will come back still or if this… is what I am now, but my core is weaker than it used to be. If this the way I’ll be now, I won’t be able to fight them off.”

“Are they dangerous?” Bruce asks. “Beyond the morality of their obsession, are they actively dangerous to you?”

“That’s not an easy question. Mostly the ghosts used Amity Park as a new way to fulfill their obsessions. Lunch Lady wants to feed people, which is good, but if you don’t want to eat things can get nasty. Obsessions are like that, they can twist quickly. The ghosts also just like to brawl, a lot of them at least. Some of them would understand if I can’t and back off, but there are others… take Skulker,” Danny says with a wave of his hand, “his obsession is hunting rare game and, well, I’m rare game. He wants to mount my pelt to his wall.”

With an unpleasant noise, Gar dashes from the room. It makes Danny wince and mumble an apology.

Wally is already mentally calling favors to call in to safeguard their apartment, not that he thinks anyone will say no to protecting Danny.

“We’ll make checking on the portal a priority as soon as this meeting is done,” Bruce assures Danny.

“Thank you. I don’t want anyone to be hurt if it gets turned back on.”

“Why has it been off? If it’s off, why would they turn it back on now?” John asks, still pacing.

Danny looks away from the table again. “Because they remember now.”

“The curse?” John asks at the same time Bary asks, “What do you mean remember?”

“I mean they forgot, because, yeah, the curse,” Danny says. He’s back to picking at his sleeve. Everyone gives him time to try and find his words, which he does with a wet laugh. “I was stupid. I mean, I was young, but I still should have known better. I was just… I was having a hard time. My parents were working on a new GIW contract and my friends… team were going off to college… I was going to be alone to deal with the ghosts. I still should have known better. I just wished I could be normal.”

“That’s not wrong, Danny,” Barry says. “We’ve all felt that sometime…”

Danny’s shaking his head. “You don’t understand. You don’t wish in Amity Park.”

“Because of this Desiree?” Zatanna asks.

“Because of Desiree,” Danny confirms. “Some ghosts have very specific powers and those are usually strong powers. For Desiree, it’s… it was reality altering based on wishes. I forgot to never say ‘I wish’.”

After a moment of comprehending silence, Diana asks, “She had the power to make you fully human?”

“No, even borrowing power like I think she did, Desiree couldn’t do that. But that’s not what she needed to do. Normal isn’t a real thing, it’s just societal, you know? She just had to make sure no one remembered I was half dead and, tada, I had a normal life.”

John finally stops pacing and leans against the back of his chair. His cigarette is a mangled mess dangling from his lips. “What was the catch?”

“I wanted to be normal, so I had to stay normal. I couldn’t be noticed using any of my powers or being too ghostly or tell anyone I had died or what things used to be like. If I did— well you all saw what happened,” Danny looks up, finally, right at Wally. “It’s why I couldn’t tell any of you, even if I wanted too. It’s why I couldn’t use my powers to help. As soon as I did, I was good as dead.”

More than ever Wally wants to rush over to Danny’s side. He wants to let Danny know it’s alright that he kept this secret. It doesn’t matter. He settles for what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

“I still don’t know how I survived. As soon as Desiree appeared and took my powers, that should have been it for me. My ghost half can’t survive without them and my human half isn’t alive enough to last by itself. It would be like cutting off a normal person’s oxygen. I should have been ended.”

“We overloaded her,” Zatanna explains.

“Forced all your power— which there was a fucking lot of it— into her at once,” John finished. “She popped like a balloon with too much air.”

“Did you have to describe it that way?” Hal grumbles.

“Oh.” Danny blinks a few times as he took that in. “I guess, okay. I mean, yeah, I was more powerful than a lot of ghosts; something about being a halfa and my state being mutable still. I didn’t think though… right, okay. But how am I still here?”

“When she popped,” John says with a smirk towards Hal, “the air was full of ambient ectoplasm. Flash zapped you, re-started your heart, and the cloud went up like a match in a fart.”

Danny’s face wrinkled up at that. “Ew. But, alright. I mean it was my power first. I guess that…” Danny’s hand comes up to press over his sternum. “I guess that means this is my power level now.”

“And the rest of the curse?” Zatanna asks, leaning forward in her seat.

“Gone. People remember now.”

Wally thought to all the phone messages Danny had been getting in a new light.

“That’s why we need to make sure the portal is closed.”

“As well as that the GIW are shut down and that your parents do not try to harm you,” Diana says with that firm certainty of hers.

“Right,” Danny says after a beat. It’s hard to see how clearly Danny doesn’t consider himself a priority. “And… for the rest of it all?”

Diana tilts her head in question. “The rest of it?”

“I didn’t tell anyone my status. I lied to some of you. Is that…”

“You did what you needed to stay alive and hurt no one.” She holds up a hand to stop any protests from Danny. “While I have no doubt with your heart as it is you do not wish you could have done more, it would have never been asked of you at the cost of your life. You are a hero, Danny, and have been since you joined the Response Team in Central City. You have only continued to prove it by your willingness to act and the honor with which you did so. The Justice League is proud to still have you as your post, as soon as you are recovered.”

Finally the last of the tension drains Danny’s shoulders. “I’ll be happy to get back to it.”

Wally tunes Diana out as she wraps up the meeting.

“I’m going to ask him,” Wally says to Dick, who still has his hand.

“What? Now?” Dick hisses.

Wally watches as Danny shakes Clark’s hand. “Why not? Everyone’s here, like you said had to be.”

“Because it’s a debrief! That’s not exactly the most romantic moment.”

The other Titans are standing around them, waiting for their chance to see Danny. Even Gar is back.

“I almost missed my chance, N. I almost never got to ask,” Wally pleads. “I don’t want to miss it again.”

Dick just sighs and pulls a small case out of his belt. He presses it into their clasped hands before releasing his grip

Wally can feel the smile stretching across his face. “You know me so well.”

Dick just shoves Wally off his chair. “Go get your man. Ghost? Man ghost.”

Laughing, Wally fumbles to his feet and towards Danny.

“Danny!”

Danny who’s still here and alive.

Who smiles like the sun as he turns towards Wally.

“Yes?”

---

AN: I don't know, is it too cruel to end right there? 😇 Don't worry, we'll get an epilogue to hopefully tie the loose ends up in a bow! But this is the last half of the last full chapter! They know! And they still respect and love Danny. He can stop worrying~

You can subscribe to the masterpost here.

#dp x dc #abson #quick death ship #danny/wally

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dreamwritesimagines · 5 months

Text

The Eye of the Hurricane [19] - Couples Therapy

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: A therapy session can be enlightening.

Word Count: 2300

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

It wasn’t like you thought taking Bucky to couple’s therapy for your technically fake marriage was going to be easy, but you didn’t think it would be this difficult.

Bucky bounced his leg beside you on the sofa while you both sat in the waiting room, his eyes darting around the room as if he expected someone to attack him at any moment.

“What happens if she asks me questions?” he asked you gruffly and you pulled your brows together.

“You’ll be fine.”

Bucky huffed out and turned to you.

“How about instead of doing this, I just pay you money to walk out of here?”

“Not gonna happen, Bucky.”

“I’ll put the weekend house under your name, you like it there.”

“The weekend house will be mine once we get a divorce anyway,” you reminded him. “It’s on the prenup.”

Bucky licked his lips. “Do you want another house?”

“Stop trying to bribe me,” you told him as he eyed the door to the therapist’s office before fixing the gun in his waistband and you gasped.

“Why did you bring a gun to the therapy?!” you hissed and he narrowed his eyes.

“We don’t know what expects us in there!” he whispered back, making your jaw drop.

“Do you seriously think—Bucky, look me in the eye and tell me you think our therapist is going to try to shoot us in couple’s therapy—”

“Mr. and Mrs. Barnes?” the therapist’s voice reached you as the door opened and you both turned to her before you smiled at her sweetly.

“Hi!”

“You can come in,” she said, stepping aside and you let out a breath, then stood up, holding Bucky by the arm to signal him to stand as well. Bucky heaved a sigh as if he was being tortured but followed you into the room dutifully and you both sat down on the couch, the therapist taking her seat soon after.

“Dr. Raynor,” you said and she smiled back at you.

“Mrs. Barnes.”

“Y/N is fine,” you said and motioned at Bucky. “And this is Bucky.”

Bucky gave her a curt nod quietly and you cleared your throat, shifting your weight.

“My therapist Dr. Cooper recommended you,” you told her. “She speaks very highly of you.”

“Dr. Cooper is a very respected colleague of mine,” she told you. “The feeling is mutual. So what brings you here?”

“Well, we’ve just got married,” you said. “And I’ve been in therapy since I was a child, basically. Bucky on the other hand has a more distant stance towards it so I figured it could help us both if we did it together.”

Dr. Raynor nodded and turned to Bucky.

“And what about you Bucky?” she asked. “What brings you here?”

Bucky raised his brows before pointing at you with his thumb. “She did.”

You crossed your arms, leaning back in the couch and Dr. Raynor hummed.

“You don’t think you should be here?”

“Honestly doc, I have no idea why I’m here,” he said. “I’m fine, our marriage is fine, so...”

“It hasn’t been a month since we got married,” you added. “Just putting it out there. But I think it’ll help Bucky if we build this—habit.”

She turned to Bucky. “And how about you?” she asked. “How do you feel about therapy, Bucky?”

“My dad would always say whatever your problems are, they should stay between your two ears instead of anyone else’s,” Bucky replied, bouncing his leg again. “Hate to agree with the guy, but he has a point.”

“George isn’t exactly the epitome of good mental health, Buck.”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “Either way.”

“Fathers may have different viewpoints especially when it comes to mental health,” Dr. Raynor said. “Given their generation.”

Bucky clicked his tongue. “Well, he and my mother have never been to therapy and they’re fine.”

“Your father had like one thousand mistresses,” you pointed out, making Dr. Raynor raise her brows and Bucky made a face.

“Allegedly.”

“It’s not allegedly, Becca literally told me she once—”

“Bucky, how would you describe your parents’ marriage?” she asked and Bucky heaved a sigh.

“They’re fine.”

“Would you say you look up to their marriage?” she asked. “Or that you want to have a similar one?”

You scoffed. “Good luck with that.”

“You wouldn’t want to have that?” she asked and you shook your head.

“Bucky can’t disrespect me like that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

You pulled your brows together, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Both,” you said without looking at him. “We have a deal, so I believe he will hold up his end of the deal.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the proud smile curling Bucky’s lips and Dr. Raynor nodded.

“Anything else you feel like you took after your father, besides your opinion on therapy?”

“Why are we talking about my father?” Bucky asked back while you tried to hold back the retort. “I thought this was couples therapy.”

“We can talk about anything you feel like we need to talk about,” Dr. Raynor said. “But most of the time, our parents’ relationship is the blueprint of our own relationships even if we don’t realize it.”

“That’s not what’s happening here,” Bucky said, motioning at you. “It’s different.”

“How?”

“What she said,” Bucky said curtly, nodding in your direction and you heaved a sigh. “He’s good with my mom, and he’s great with my sister, no need to talk about him.”

“But not with you?” Dr. Raynor asked and Bucky dragged his tongue over his teeth.

“He’s fine.”

“Bucky,” said and he shot you a look.

“What?”

“He’s fine with you? Really?”

“Y/N, not everyone needs a father, okay?” he insisted. “Some of us need a boss while growing up in this business.”

“I don’t think you needed a boss instead of a father when you were a kid, actually,” you insisted, making Dr. Raynor tilt her head.

“Would you mind explaining that?” she asked. “That boss comment?”

Bucky drummed his fingertips on his knee.

“It’s a part of…” he stopped himself and cleared his throat. “My father knew what I was capable of, so he pushed me until I saw it. Until I proved myself. That’s not a terrible thing, it worked out after all.”

You licked your lips.

“Really?” you asked. “So you’d be totally okay with following his footsteps?”

That made him stop for a moment and he scoffed.

“Fine, I wouldn’t do the cage fight because that shit’s medieval but it was because he knew I could handle it,” he defended him. “He’s great with Becca, and I don’t need him to be good with me. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

Your stomach did a painful flip. “I forgot about that.”

“Cage fight?” Dr. Raynor asked and you both turned to her, Bucky crossing his arms over his chest. You nibbled on your lip.

“Um,” you said. “Our fathers are... CEOs and we both have family companies. There’s this tradition that—the family company has a boss and an heir and when you’re the heir, you need to show that you can handle the job.”

She frowned slightly.

“And the job can get pretty physical,” you said as Bucky let out a bitter chuckle beside you. “And one of the requirements is…when an heir is picked after years of training and everything, once the boss decides it’s time for them to prove themselves, they put you in a cage with other um—” you thought for a moment. “Some professional fighters that happen to be in the business as well, working under the family. Bodyguards, if you will.”

Not bodyguards.

They would put the heir in a cage with the best fighters working for the boss.

“But usually the bosses ask the heir to prove themselves right before they pass the crown, so to speak,” you said and stole a look at him. “Not George though.”

“I was ready to prove myself.”

“At sixteen?” you asked him. “No one fucking asks that of the heir at sixteen, Buck. My father didn’t even put Ian through that yet.”

“I was already his heir, he wanted to make sure,” Bucky said. “I beat everyone up in that cage, didn’t I?”

“Your nose was broken,” you counted with your fingers. “Three of your ribs, you could barely see through one eye for like two weeks because of how swollen it was—”

“But I proved myself,” he pointed out, making you clench your jaw and Dr. Raynor sat up straighter, trying to shake off the shock. “I’m glad I did it, I’d do it again.”

“You see?” you asked. “And then he asks me why we need therapy.”

“I don’t need therapy,” Bucky shot back. “I don’t even know why I’m here, I'm perfectly fine.”

Dr. Raynor licked her lips, then grabbed the notebook by her side while Bucky pursed his lips, slipping a little on the couch.

“Great,” he said. “She has a notebook and everything. Charm, how soon can we leave?”

Well, no one had gotten shot during your first couples therapy session, so as far as you were concerned, it was a success. Bucky had to drop by his office for half an hour to check on something, and after that you figured you could go to lunch together to discuss the next step in your plan so you tagged along.

Becca was already there in his office when you two walked in and Bucky tilted his head.

“What are you doing here?”

“Mom sent me,” she told him before coming to kiss your cheek. “Hey!”

“Hi there,” you said, kissing her cheek back. “We’re going to grab lunch after this, do you want to come?”

“Sure, I could eat,” she said, flinging herself on the couch. “Steve is here too, by the way.”

Bucky frowned. “Did you two come together?”

“Nope, I ran into him by the entrance,” she said while you took your spot next to her and Bucky walked to his laptop to switch it on.

“Mom sent you?” Bucky asked and rolled his eyes. “Let me guess, dad asked her to?”

Becca raised her hands while you gritted your teeth at the mention of George.

“You can’t shoot the messenger, there’s truce now.”

“Then why does it feel like I’m going to get shot by the messenger?” Bucky asked back, making her grin.

“You know how mom is,” she reminded him. “She wants all of us to get along. I take it you’re not willing to have another dinner anytime soon?”

“Fuck no—”

“Hey,” Steve said, knocking on the door and waved at you before turning to Bucky. “You’re busy?”

“Not at all,” Bucky said. “Did we have a meeting today? Did I forget?”

“Nah, I was just around,” Steve said. “Figured I could give you the news myself. Clint is flying to Chicago.”

Bucky pulled his brows together. “What?”

Steve shot him a grin. “My reaction exactly,” he said and came to sit on the other sofa. “How was therapy?”

“Ask Y/N,” Bucky said, clicking on something on his laptop. “She was the one who dragged me there.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “He brought a gun to therapy.”

Becca’s eyes widened. “Did you shoot the therapist, Bucky?!”

“No!” Bucky exclaimed. “Jesus, you two have zero trust in me.”

“How was it, really?” Steve asked you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“He’ll find it easier in the following weeks.”

Bucky frowned at you.

“Following weeks?” he asked. “We’re going there again?”

“Bucky, therapy is not like getting vaccinated,” Becca pointed out. “You can’t just have one session and expect it to fix your shit.”

“I don’t have the time—”

“I already talked to your assistant for the next month, try me,” you said sweetly and Bucky let out a groan, then turned to Steve.

“What is it about Clint and Chicago?”

“Well, he seems to believe that he can convince Rhett.”

Becca’s head whipped up and she blinked a couple of times while you tried to keep a straight face, and subtly pressed your index finger on your lips, giving her a slight grin. She let out a breath, then turned to Steve while Bucky scoffed.

“Yeah, that’s impossible.”

“What’s that about Chicago?” Becca asked and Steve heaved a sigh.

“Chicago’s prince became the new king recently,” he explained. “I thought it was hard to talk to his father, I spoke way too soon.”

“Yeah, he’s a dickhead,” Bucky pointed out while you bit inside your cheek to keep your laughter in. Becca sat up straighter.

“Why?”

“He doesn’t trust anyone who’s not from Chicago,” Steve said. “Refuses to do business with anyone else.”

“But doesn’t he kind of have to do it?” Becca asked. “Even we do business with other cities.”

“Chicago is different, Bec,” Bucky said. “They have their own rules, and as of now, they don’t actually need other cities.”

“Word on the street they might have to do it soon though,” Steve said. “Every boss in New York is trying to convince him, but as Bucky said, he’s a dickhead so…”

“That’s pointless, I’m telling you,” Bucky said as he typed at his laptop, then slammed the lid shut. “Okay, I’m done. Lunch?”

“I have a meeting with Sam,” Steve said as he stood up from the couch and he and Bucky walked to the door while Becca clicked her tongue, turning to look at you with a huge grin on her face.

“So,” she said and you hummed.

“Yes?”

“I take it he doesn’t know?”

“Nope.”

“None of them do?”

You shook your head, still smiling and Becca let out a laugh, then threw her arm over your shoulder.

“Nice plan,” she said and you giggled.

“Thank you,” you said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Let’s go, you know how hungry therapy makes me.”

Chapter 20

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the-oblivious-writer · 10 months

Text

Touch Tank

Tara Carpenter x Reader

One-shot

Summary: Tensions are high when you go over to the Carpenters' apartment after telling Tara you would fix their sink; Sam isn't exactly what you would call your 'biggest fan'

Warning(s): Swearing, Tara & R aren't together, & no pronouns used

Notes: Another work based off of Gilmore Girls! Currently re-watching it and I'm slowly inching towards s3 ep 19... I'm avoiding it like the plague (I wanna stay in literali bliss just a lil longer 😔)

4/7 for Seven Days of Christmas

You made the mistake of agreeing to fix Tara’s sink.

Somehow Tara roped you into agreeing. Plumbers were expensive, and with paying rent in New York while also paying for college, they were already on a tight budget. You offered them a cheaper price, and you honestly didn’t mind giving Tara a favor.

That was before you remembered Sam would be there too.

You have known Tara all of five months, and in that time you haven’t exactly left the best impression on her older sister. Sam has already caught you sneaking in ten times—you got lucky every other time—and it didn’t help that you had an attitude.

Tara wanted nothing more than for Sam to get to know you—to not just go off the you she made up in her head. So, when Sam found out you would be coming to fix their kitchen sink… she figured it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to give you another shot. Besides, she was doing this for Tara. She wasn’t sure as to why Tara was so persistent on it, but all she knows is that Tara wants you and her to get along.

—

You walk up the stairs to the shared apartment after getting buzzed in by Tara. Once you get to the door you knock and the door opens.

“Hey,” Tara greets.

“Hey back,” you reply. Tara moves to the side, letting you in. Once you’re inside you look at Tara once again before smiling to yourself.

“You’re very punctual,” she remarked—watching as your eyes wandered.

“Yeah, well, it was either this or more apartment hunting with Danny.”

“You’re moving?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. Don’t really get the point—the apartment’s fine. He says there’s ‘interior damage’ or whatever. Nothing I can’t fix.”

“Who knows; a new place could be nice.”

“I guess. He’s kinda eyeing the vacant apartment that’s not too far from yours.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… not saying it’s a sure thing but if we do move, can you promise you won’t get sick of me?”

“Sick of that face? Never…” She gently pinched your cheek teasingly; heat rushed to your face.

“Did you change your hair?” You asked suddenly, changing the subject.

“What?”

“Your hair looks…different.”

“So segway’s not your thing, huh?”

“Is it?”

“Uh, no. I wear it like this a lot. Why?”

“Just…” You shrug, “Different.”

“Oh. Bad ‘different’?” She tugged on the hem of her shirt, suddenly feeling nervous for some reason.

You smirk, about to answer her question, but turn your head when you hear a noise coming from down the hall. It sounded like Sam yelling a curse before Tara looked back at you with a light chuckle.

“The sink hasn’t been putting her in the best mood,” she elaborates.

“She’s usually in a good mood?” You quip with raised eyebrows, tone laced in sarcasm. Tara scolds you with a look, causing you to back down. “Alright, alright.”

“This fucking sink is driving me insane–” Sam cuts herself off, stopping in her tracks when she sees you.

“Oh. Y/N. You’re here,” she says and you simply nod at her words. “Refreshing to see you use the front door for once…” She murmurs but you and Tara hear it. Tara scolds her with the same look she gave you just moments before.

“If you want there’s Dr. Pepper in the kitchen,” Sam reluctantly offered. You looked at Tara then at Sam before briefly nodding.

After a few seconds of silence, Sam clears her throat. “Okay, well, everything’s in the kitchen if you want to get started. The toolbox, and gloves are all there. If you need anything else just call one of us.”

Tara looks between you and Sam before speaking up, “Come on, I’ll show you.” She extends her hand, gesturing to the direction of the kitchen. You begin to walk in that direction but before Tara follows behind, she gives Sam a look.

“I’m trying,” Sam huffed.

“Well keep it up pleasee,” Tara requested as she walked away to the kitchen.

By the time she was there, you were already setting up. “Question,” She states.

“Yes?” You put the pair of gloves in your back pocket, looking over at Tara.

“You come over. You seem to have a very firm grasp of the English language. You put together several full sentences—even using a couple of words that contain two or more syllables. And then my sister appears, and suddenly we need a thought bubble over your head to understand what you’re thinking. Can you tell me why that is?”

You looked down at the four-way silicone key in your hand before looking at Tara again with a response. “The verbal thing comes and goes.”

Tara sighed, lightly rolling her eyes. “I would really appreciate it if you would try to get along with my sister.”

“I took the Dr. Pepper,” you stated as a matter of factly.

She furrowed her eyebrows, “I know.”

“Personally, I think it’s a little crazy to put lemon in Dr. Pepper—buuuut I took it anyhow.” You reached for the bucket and rag as you heard Tara huff.

“Stop it.”

“Ooo, stern face,” you say as you lift the tool and bucket to place by the sink. Tara continues, following you as you crouched down by the sink.

“Look. I went out on a limb for you, trying to get my sister to give you the benefit of the doubt. Okay? So, I don’t think it would hurt you to try to be nice.”

You put down the wrench you had just picked up, now fully turned and standing to look at Tara as you spoke. “Why?” You simply asked, taking off your jacket.

“Why?” Tara mirrored.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because she’s my sister—and she and Danny are dating.”

“So?” You tossed your jacket on top of a nearby chair.

“What do you mean ‘so’?” She asked incredulously; her eyebrows stayed furrowed.

“So, just because she’s your sister or Danny’s girlfriend doesn’t mean that I automatically have to get along with her,” you stated with pure conviction, rolling up your sleeves.

“Y/N, my sister is a great person. She’s also my best friend—so if you care about me at all you will take that into consideration,” Tara was now crossing her arms as she stood her ground. “And you will be mildly polite to her.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, looking her up and down before responding. “What makes you think I care about you?” Tara didn’t need eyes to know you were smirking and enjoying this way too much.

She blushes, looking down at the ground and shaking her head as she grows flustered. “I–I don’t mean care-care. Like—care. I mean if you like me at all—not like-like! I just meant that–” Tara stumbles over her words, tucking in a loose strand of hair behind her ear. You watch her with amusement, a soft smile grazing your face as you let out a light snort.

“If you think of me remotely as the sort of person you could occasionally stand to talk to then you will try to get along with my sister. That’s all.”

Your eyes never pulled from her once, only looking at her with fondness as you finally said something. “Okay,” you nod.

“Okay?”

“Can’t guarantee that it’ll work but I’ll try,” you confirm.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome…” You glance at the sink then back at Tara. “Should probably get to work.”

“Right. Sorry—go ahead.” She turns to walk away, looking at you one more time before leaving the kitchen. You crouch down by the sink again, not meeting her gaze but feeling it. She doesn’t see how you grin to yourself; your mind being plagued with thoughts of the younger Carpenter.

Guess it wouldn’t hurt to make an effort.

—

Later that night, you decided to stop by Tara’s window for a surprise visit. You looked at her for a few seconds—admiring how peaceful she looked—before lightly tapping on her window. She turned to look at the window, a grin grazing her face when her eyes meets yours.

She lifted the window with a smile as you looked up at her fondly. “Hey,” you finally said after the window fully opened, expression never faltering as you leaned your head against the window frame.

“Hey back,” she replied. “Didn’t you say something to Sam about not coming through the window anymore.” Tara heard from Sam that you managed to hold somewhat of a conversation with the older Carpenter, actually making an effort to try with her. No matter how awkward it might have been on your end, at least you tried.

“You talk about me with Sam?” You asked smugly.

She rolled her eyes with an infectious smile. “Just get inside.”

“I didn’t hear a no~” You say in a sing-song voice. Tara pulled you in by your sleeve, roughly, might you add. “Watch the shirt,” you complain while you’re pulled inside her room.

“Quirk it.”

“How gentle,” you sarcastically complimented; you dusted your pants off with your free hand, not commenting on how Tara still held a grip on your other arm.

“So,” Tara began as she sat on her bed—dragging you with her, “What are we watching tonight?”

“I can’t do Freaky Friday again.”

“Fine.”

“How about Cursed?” You inquired. Tara was leaning her back against your chest; she looked up at you with those beautiful brown eyes.

“That movie’s terrible.”

“One-hundred percent, but Milo Ventimiglia is in it.”

“Doesn’t he only have like six minutes of screen time?”

“But in it, nevertheless.”

“You drive a hard bargain… Get the laptop?”

You respond by reaching over to the night stand, grabbing her laptop. You hand it to her and she opens it on her lap.

Tara would never comment on how she was the only one who got this side of you—the gentle, kind, and considerate side. Well, when she wants to see you squirm she comments on it. But for now, she’ll keep it to it herself.

-----------

A/N: the urge to write a paper on how jess mariano is a truly misunderstood character grows each & each day...

(I got beef with star hallows. we leave it at that.)

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #scream fanfic

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fractualized · 3 months

Note

"#if the depiction is aware of the context of this image #and why it's so fucked #then yeah I'm into it"

well I'm not aware of the context but now I'd like to be 👀

Haha, oh boy. Apologies for how long this is, but I felt some context is useful. (And there's even more context than all of this!)

Alright, so here again is the panel in question:

Out of context, we have Bruce praising his friend Clark for making him believe in the impossible, and Clark happy to have a friend who believes in him.

In context...

This image is from Justice League (2018) #25, which takes place in the lead-up to Dark Nights: Death Metal. The full storyline, "The Sixth Dimension," starts in #19, but long story extremely short, in their attempts to find a viable plan to stop the consequences of breaking the Source Wall that surrounds the multiverse, the League finds themselves going up against another version of the League in a future dimension of their own multiverse, except for Clark, who is trapped on a dark planet in a pocket universe.

Silver Fox Clark turns out to be the World Forger. He says that the perfect world he's shown the rest of the League up to this point is the only version of the multiverse where the League ensured the multiverse's survival. They did so by determining which beings would side with doom instead of justice, and then locked up or killed all those beings to ensure the multiverse survives judgment. (If you want any of this to make more sense, you'll have to read Snyder's whole multiverse thing.) To prevent the impending calamity, the World Forger wants to replace the present multiverse with this future one.

The League refuses, of course… except Batman expresses doubt. So the World Forger sends the others to be imprisoned on Apokolips, but he talks with Bruce one-on-one.

The World Forger says Bruce needs to convince the rest of the League. He also says that it's possible Clark will escape the dark planet, and no doubt doom the whole plan.

And Bruce chooses.

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNN

So that's bad! Also, to make it worse, we learn that Future Bruce achieved this future by brainwashing everyone before he died, but that's a weirdly small detail.

Of course the League escapes Apokolips and find themselves battling not just the World Forger and their future brainwashed selves, but Batman. During this fight, Bruce tries to convince his team that the World Forger's plan is the only way they can save everything. In the meantime, Clark is struggling to complete the flight out of the pocket universe.

Clark gets to the suns via the power of will and love and all that good stuff, and he makes it back! He stops the World Forger from overwriting the multiverse, and then Bruce explains his thinking.

Yay! They found another way forward! So let's just glide past:

1) Bruce agreeing not only that the World Forger's plan was likely their only chance, but that the League had a better chance of winning if Clark died. 2) Bruce giving Clark a chance to prove his doubt wrong by pushing the suns further away from Clark. It was entirely up to Clark if he had the hope and will to travel even further than he originally had to in order to get back. (I keep thinking that Bruce had to have meant he figured out how to put the suns in a better position for Clark to get to them, but he explicitly does not say that.) 3) How if Clark didn't manage to make it back, Bruce was fully prepared to align with the World Forger and brainwash his friends.

Admittedly, yes, if you read the whole storyline, there are many pages of Clark struggling to get out of the pocket universe, even before Bruce moves the suns. The reader is meant to understand that Bruce pushing Clark even harder is what made this victory possible.

But that doesn't mean that Clark responding like "aw, shucks, thanks" isn't wildly fucked!

To be clear, I'm not saying there aren't superbat fans who share the initial panel because they like exploring how Bruce's bonkers behavior affects Clark, and how that behavior gets repeatedly dismissed as Bruce just being a loner with a heart of gold. But when that image gets posted in isolation, inevitably some of the people who share it will be those who prefer a rosier view of superbat, and sorry, it's just funny.

Read comics: you'll understand more, and it'll ruin everything!

#superbat #batman #superman #bruce wayne #clark kent #my jibber-jabber #ask

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multiplefandomwritings · 2 years

Text

How to be a child

pairing: reader x the grid (platonically), Pierre Gasly x reader

warnings: swearing, description of injuries/bruises, throwing up, passing out, unconsciousness, mentioning of hospital, mentioning of crash, angst

summary: You were the mum of the grid, you always had been. Until it one day it all just gets too much, and you are in desperate need of support. Suddenly 19 boys collectively become your mum, and you need to once again learn how to be a child.

notes: i am so, sorry for the wait. life has been terrible for the me the past months, but here it finally is: part two! as a small compensation, it is very long, and i hope you will like it! feel free to leave comments and/or feedback. likes and reblogs are always appreciated! also, feel free to send in requests! you can find the first part here. a third part will follow at some point, so let me know if you want to be tagged 😊 also, a question for everyone on the taglist: Would you like to be tagged in all of my F1 work, or just in this one?

disclaimer: english is not my first language, so please excuse any mistakes 😊

word count: 8.1k

taglist: @cilliansgirl @tyna-19 @hc-dutch @honethatty12 @sheslikeacurse @rb-danny @hc-dutch @hiphopdancer101universe @teddyluvs @dan3avocado @stillbreathin @mellowturtleangellamp @mcmuppet @shqwqrma @alice07ea @ricsaigaslec @witchychicken @rockyhayzkid @sheluvsf1 @hiddleslovs @laurevdd @caosfanblr @dessxoxsworld @fryskje @stickygladitorbear @goldenharrysworld @mehrmonga @anon-1112 @abcdefghijklmopqrstuvwxyzz @yunoguns @jaydenhateslife @itsandreaca @tsukishimawhore @formula-hamilton @cfjkdyihjkdd @whodis-26 @basicallyherondale @wtrmlnsgr94

“Shut up, you dumbass!”, whisper-yells a voice that sounds like Charles to you. “Or do you want the nurse to realize that we are way more people in here than allowed?” Several people shush at the same time, and you are utterly confused. You slowly open your eyes and catch sight of almost the whole grid cramped into the room. They are bickering with each other, and you cannot help but smile. “Hey guys!”, you croak out and your voice sounds hoarse. Immediately, they all stop talking and look at you. Pierre is the first to move and rushes over to your bed to take a hold of your hand.

“Finally, mon ange!”, he breathes out and you could’ve sworn that you can see tears welling up in his eyes. “What happened?”, you ask, still very much confused. You try to sit up, and immediately Max and Daniel rush to your side to assist you in your undertaking. When you are propped up, you look at your friends, who are standing around the bed – a hospital bed as you have realized by now. Pierre gently strokes your hand, and Lewis raises his voice to tell you what had happened.

After your collapsed in Pierre´s arms, and your friends and colleagues form a wall to shield you, Pierre gently picks you up and carries you out of the public eye and into Lando´s room. Everyone is close to panic, no one really knowing what had prompted you to pass out. The doctors, alerted by someone, rush in, and examine you. They cannot really find any reason, apart from the injuries in your face. They suspect that it might be something severe, so the whole grid is close to losing their mind. You are than a friend to most, rather part of their family. The called ambulance takes you with them, Pierre riding in the back with you.

When you arrive at the hospital, the doctors take you away from Pierre to examine you thoroughly, determined to find out what is wrong with you. It takes an hour, one more, and another. By now, the hallway of the floor you are on is filled with the other drivers. Everyone wanted to be there for you when you wake up. With every minute, the boys get more nervous, grow more worried. After four hours, the doctor comes out.

“We stabilized her. We assume that she suffered an acute exhaustion attack, caused by a lack of sleep and too much stress paired with a concussion. We expect her to sleep for a few days, but she was lucky. It could have been way worse. She will need to rest as much as possible once she wakes up to ensure that neither her brain nor her heart will suffer from long term consequences.”

The drivers are all shocked. You are still so young, and now this. They realise, all for themselves, that maybe they had demanded too much of you for too long. Guilt threatened to eat up them, more with every day you didn’t wake up for. Until three later, on a Wednesday, you finally wake up again.

You are quiet for a few minutes. Just when you are about to say something, the door opens and a nurse steps in. When she sees all the drivers, she rushes them out - all except one. Pierre doesn’t leave your side. He sits with you when the doctor comes in and tells you that you were lucky. He makes it very clear that you must take time for yourself to make sure that you would not suffer lasting effects. You nod, trying to understand everything he says.

“Would you mind leaving me alone for a minute, please?”, you ask. The doctor nods, while Pierre stays by your side. “You too, Pierre.” He looks at you, shocked for a minute, offended even. “Don’t send me away, y/n. You seem like you need someone with you right now.” “Just give me a fucking minute alone, Pierre!”, you snap at him, and he gets up and leaves without another word. You know that wasn’t fair, but your whole world just turned upside down. You will apologize later.

You clench your hands to fists; you feel like you are going to lose your shit. The feelings threaten to drown you, you are barely able to keep yourself over the water. You need to get out of here – you want to be everywhere but here. You lift yourself out of bed, determination flooding your system. When you stand up, you grind your teeth. Your whole body is almost shaking because just the act of getting up was so exhausting. You feel so very small, weak, and fragile. You take two, three slow steps, holding onto the hospital bed with every step. When you reach the end of the bed, you back another step forward, but without holding onto something, your body gives in. You crash to the ground; your body hits the floor with a loud thud.

Immediately, the door opens and Pierre storms in. He sees on you sitting on the floor, knees pulled to your chest, head buried in your hands. He rushes over to you and takes you in his arms. “I am so afraid, Pierre!”, you sob into his shoulder as he holds you. His heart breaks right there and then. You cry for what feels like hours, and when you are done, Pierre helps you onto the bed again. The doctors had allowed for you to leave the hospital in Brazil to be taken care of by your personal doctor in Monaco. However, much comes with that – your transport must be organized, you have to talk to the team, and all of that.

You are starting to panic, you feel so exhausted still, you have no idea how you would be able to manage all of that. “You don’t need to worry, ange. We are scheduled to fly out tonight in the private jet, everything around the transport is organized. Only Max, Daniel, Lando and I will join so that you can rest as much as possible. We will have to leave for the weekend, but I will promise you that we will be back as soon as possible.” You nod, overwhelmed that they cared so much for you. After one last check up, the doctor wishes you all the best and discharges you.

They provide you with a wheelchair because you are still weakened and every bone in your body hurts – even the ones you didn’t know you had. Pierre pushes you out of the hospital and towards the parking lot, where you can spot Daniel standing between an unfamiliar car. Usually, all of you drove fast and sporty cars, but this was a car you expected to see in a suburban neighbourhood where everyone had at least three kids.

“Nice ride!”, you say, and your voice is still hoarse. You are pretty sure that you look like shit, but the boys do not let on. They don’t look at you with pity and you are beyond grateful for that. “Thanks, we had to improvise a bit!” Daniel walks over to you and pulls you out of the wheelchair with ease, lifting you into his arms bridal style. He carries you over to the car, careful to not hurt you. However, his limb coordination when it comes to carrying people apparently isn’t the best. You close your eyes when you see the car door frame coming closer, but instead of bumping into the hard metal, your head is met with a soft surface. You open your eyes and see Lando smiling at you. The boy had put his hand over the door frame, softening the impact. Your eyes almost start to water at the sweet gesture.

Once you are seated, Pierre climbs into the back with you and helps you to put your seatbelt on before he settles himself in. Lando sits in the back as well. Max is the passenger princess. Daniel is starting the car, and you watch Max still without his seatbelt on. Before, you can say something, Pierre turns to Max. “Put your fucking seatbelt on!”, he says and a small smile appears on your face. You don’t really catch more of the chatting, as just the way to the car exhausted you completely and you opt for some sleep. Pierre´s shoulder functions as your cushion, and it is quite comfortable, at least for this purpose. Already almost in slumber you only subconsciously realize that someone puts a blanket over you. You snuggle closer into Pierre and fall into a deep and dreamless slumber.

You wake when someone unbuckles your seatbelt. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you!”, Pierre apologizes, but you wave it off. “I think I have slept enough the past days”, you joke half-heartedly, and he gives you a tiny smile. Only now in this close proximity, you can see the dark bags under his eyes, the worry on his face. He looks five years older, beard unshaved, little stubbles growing in a disorganized way. “I am sorry for causing you so much worry”, you whisper barely audible, but he hears you, like he always does. He shakes his head. “Mon ange, no. None of this is your fault, if anything, it is ours.” You are just about to ask what he means when Daniel interrupts the two of you.

“We should get going!”, he says, and Pierre helps you out of the car. He carries you the last few meters to the jet, and places you down on one of the seats. Before you can engage in a conversation with him, Lando joins you on the seat next to you and slams a big bag on the table. “Y/n, I hope you are hungry!” You focus your attention on him and just now realize how hungry you are. “Starving, actually!” Lando smacks his lips and starts unpacking the bag. “Well, in that case, good for you, because I come prepared!” There is everything you could ask for – snacks, fruits, sandwiches. You decide to start with an apple, which Lando insists on cutting into small pieces for you. “Lando!”, you laugh, “I am not a child!” He grins. “Well, y/n, you need care and nursing and love now, so we all have decided to you are no longer our mum, you are now our child!” You flip him off playfully and continue to eat your apple pieces quietly while Lando talks your ear off, which you honestly do not mind. It distracts you from all the negative thoughts.

After a few hours, Daniel, Lando and Max are asleep. You are quite awake on the other hand and the soft shine of a display coming from Pierre´s seat indicates that he as well is awake. You carefully walk over to him, holding onto the seats. It takes all of your strength to make the few meters, but you manage and fall into the seat next to the Frenchman. He looks up from his phone and gifts you a smile. “Hey”, you say softly, “You okay?” Pierre shakes his head but continues to smile. “You are unbelievable, y/n! You are the one that was in the hospital the last days, not me.” “I can still worry about you guys though, no?”, you grin crookedly, but Pierre is still very serious. “Of course, but the important thing now is that you need to get better, and to do that, you need to learn to say no, and you need to learn to listen to yourself.” You want to interrupt him, but he doesn’t let you. “But most importantly, we – me and the others – need to learn to get our own shit together, and not always bother you!”

You can feel that he is a bit angry, so you gently place your hand on his biceps. “Pierre, you never bothered me. It was just a bit too much the past weeks! Everything will be fine, in fact, everything is fine.” Pierre shakes his head at you, you can feel that he is still upset. “No, nothing is fine. The last days were absolutely horrible, y/n. I was so afraid; I don’t think I have ever been this afraid. I couldn’t sleep because I was afraid that I would wake up and someone was going to tell me that you died. It was a nightmare, I don’t ever want to feel that again – so I am begging you, please take all the time you need to rest and heal. I cannot lose you.” You are a taken aback by his words. “I will, I promise!”, you say, and Pierre pulls you onto his lap and into a tight hug. He doesn’t let go for a while, and you don’t mind. It keeps you from falling apart.

You land a few hours later, you before you can protest, Lando lifts you out of your seat. “My turn!”, he laughs, and you decide to not pick a fight. “Yeah, it’s cool”, you say and playfully roll your eyes, “Just pick me up whenever.” Lando makes a sad face, and you can sense that he feels bad. “I am sorry”, he utters, “I should have at least asked if it was okay for me to pick you up!” You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it, its not like a have a choice. I can´t exactly walk away”, you joke. You know it is a bad joke, and maybe it was too early to joke about it. For a moment, it is quiet, but then Daniel lets out a little snort. He tries his best to keep in a laugh, but when Max looks at him, he cannot help himself and bursts out laughing. The Dutchman joins him, so do you, and in a matter of seconds, Pierre and Lando are laughing as well. It takes you a while to calm down, because all of you just really needed to laugh off the shock of the past days.

Lando carries you down and into the car. Charles had offered to pick you up and drive you to your apartment, joined by Pierre. “Hey Charles!”, you greet the man and move over to give him an uncomfortable hug over the middle console. He doesn’t seem to mind, however. “You don’t know how good it is to see you, y/n!” You smile at him after you pull away, and he starts the car as soon as Pierre has settled in as well. A bit later, you arrive by your apartment building. Pierre gets out the wheelchair, and helps you to climb in. It is still new for you, and you hope that you will get rid of it soon. It makes you feel utterly helpless, but just the few steps in the plane earlier were hard and exhausting. For a moment, the thought that you might never be able to race again crosses your mind, but you push it away violently. So far, you had achieved everything in your life that you had set your mind to, and you sure as hell will not let anything stop you now.

It feels good to be back in your own space. You exhale deeply and you immediately start to feel a bit better. The familiar surrounding eases your negative thoughts, and you find yourself calming down. “Alright”, says Charles, “I will get going and get the crutches from the doctor, and get groceries, then I will be back!” Before you can say something, he is out of the door. “The doctors in Brazil contacted your doctor here to consult and discuss next steps.” You nod, feeling slightly overwhelmed. Pierre tells you bit more about the topic, but you can’t really focus your attention. At some point, you let out a big yawn. Pierre chuckles. “Seems like someone is tired!” “Exhausted”, you tell him, and he gives you an understanding nod. “How about you take a nap?”, he offers. “Sounds super!”

He helps you into your room, where you quickly change into some shorts and a shirt. After you are done, Pierre enters the room with a glass of water in his hand. “I know that you like to keep a glass of water next to your bed, so I figured I would bring you one!” “How do you know?”, you question. He shrugs his shoulders. “You mentioned it one day…” “Thank you!” He smiles at you, puts the glass down and grabs the blanket. He throws it over you and gently tugs you in. “Sleep well, mon ange!”, he says but you are already sound asleep.

The next week is exhausting, more mentally than physically. You are able to leave the wheelchair rather quickly, but you still the need the crutches for support. Despite the fact that you weren’t really injured, at least not in the traditional sense, your body was still weak. You just cannot really rely on it right now, so the crutches are there to support and help you. You are just happy that you are out of the wheelchair and that you have a tiny bit of your independency back. What helps even more however, is the constant support of your friends. They cannot be with you right now, as there are still two more races for them to finish. Your doctor appointments keep you occupied, your family visits and helps you with whatever you need. Your friends call you, sometimes just to tell you minor things but it helps. You don’t feel isolated, and you cheer on them from your living room. Right now, it feels okay to not be on track – you feel like you are going to be okay.

The season ends in the end of November. Winter has Monaco in its grip, the first snow falls. Everything looks so pretty that you cannot really feel down. On top of that you love Christmas, and you keep yourself busy with present shopping, at least until you have to get ready to leave for England. It is a Tuesday, and you had just been at the doctor’s office. While your doctor is sure that you will fully recover, he also gives you a real perspective on things. The possibility is there that you can race next season, but the cost could potentially be high. He tells you to consider your options. Lando picks you up from this appointment and together you drive to the airport. The two of you were scheduled to fly to the McLaren headquarters for a week to discuss the next possible steps. The flight goes over quick, you are unusually quiet – and Lando just lets you be. He can sense that you need the time, so he gives it to you.

When you step out of the airport, Zak waits for there for you personally. The older man pulls you in a tight hug, it had been a while since he had seen you in person. “Good to see you, kid!”, he tells you with a fatherly tone in his voice. You grin at him, happy to see him. You climb into the car and Zak drives you to his home, to have dinner with his family. You quite enjoy it, but you feel yourself get tired after a while. Lando notices and decides to call a taxi for the both of you to drive to the hotel.

You share a suite, in case something was to happen during the night, but you sleep well. After a nice breakfast, you are getting picked up for the headquarters and inside you are feeling very nervous. You are good at hiding it, but you fiddle with your fingers. Lando takes one of your hands and gently squeezes it. Only now that you are not good on foot you realize how big the McLaren compound really is.

The core team meets in a room close to the entrance for your sake. They are all beyond happy to see you, everyone is relieved that you are on your feet again, at least partly. It is not many people, as you agreed with Zak to discuss the next steps in a small team before you met with everyone. After exchanging some courtesies, it is time for you to tell them of your decision. You take a deep breath and Lando once again squeezes your hand. No one knows what you are going to tell them, and you don’t really know how to tell them. You decide it is best to rip the band aid of fast.

“After consulting with my doctor yesterday, I think it is best if I resign for indeterminate time, until I am fully recovered.” The room is eerily quiet, everyone is a bit shocked. “While I could possibly sit myself into the car next season, I would not be able to give you guys the results you deserve. Trust me, this is not what I wanted, but if I race next season, the possibility of lasting health issues is very likely, and I do not believe that some half-assed results are worth that. I want to apologize –“ “Don’t!”, Zak interrupts you, “We have all developed a soft spot for you in our hearts, and we were all shocked when we heard what the doctors in Brazil said. Your health comes first. While we are deeply saddened about you resigning for indeterminate time, I believe I speak for all of us when I say that we would like to keep you around one way or the other.” You nod, tears welling up in your eyes. On the one side because they were so supportive, on the other side because you stating your resignation makes it a lot more real.

Now it is official – at least within your team – that you will not start next season. It feels a bit like your world is ending, your goals are out of your reach. You feel hopeless, and like you are – quite frankly – an absolute loser. Self-doubts threaten to eat you up, you want to curl up in a ball and just stop existing for a while. You spent the rest of the meeting lost in your thoughts, and the next days go by in a blur. You visit the headquarter many more times that week, talking to the team, discussing the best way to communicate your indeterminate resignation. You call Pierre a lot, telling him about everything. He deserves to know from you, so do all of your other friends. You cry a lot those days, Lando never quite leaving your side. He is there for you, so is everyone else. Yet you find yourself withdrawing yourself from almost everyone except Pierre. You call him daily, sometimes more than once. Many times, he has to listen to you softly sobbing into the phone, and it breaks his heart. But he never blames you, he always listens, he always comforts you.

After an exhausting week, there is only one more thing to do – film your resignation video. You cry during the video too, but you don’t mind – you love your fans, and they deserve to know the truth and witness your real feelings about your resignation. In the end, the video is 10 minutes long – you explain your reasons, you promise that you will be back. And you mean that. Somehow, you have found your fighting spirit once again. The video ends with a collage of your best moments in F1. A tribute to your achievements so far, but you are now certain there will be more eventually. You will put all the work in necessary so that you would heal properly, and that you would be able to sit in the car next year.

You fly back to Monaco alone – Lando would have come with you, but you told him to stay home with his family for a bit. He drove you to the airport and saw that you get to the plane just fine. When you land, Lewis and Valtteri are already there to welcome you back. They are kind and gentle and brotherly, and your soul heals a bit when they take you to lunch that day. They don’t make you feel like a loser anymore, they tell you that they are proud of you for making this hard decision. The three of you share things that you have never spoken about before, and it helps. The sun is shining on a white Monaco and your heart becomes full and hopeful. You are still weak and exhausted, and when they take you home you are more than ready to sleep, but it is different.

The next week is a busy week once again. You visit your doctor and your personal trainer a lot, discussing measures to help you healing, and setting up a slow training program that would help keep you in shape, while not overburdening your body. You still call Pierre every day to talk to him. He is with his family in France for Christmas, and he has invited you to join him. You tell him you will once you feel better. He understands, like he always does. He makes you laugh with his joke, and he tells you he misses you. You miss him, and when he drops one of his compliments, it is somehow different now. Your cheeks heat up sometimes, and your heart skips a beat.

Christmas is nice, and special. You are home, and for once you have nothing to do – no real training, only little exercises. No media duties, and you enjoy the time with your family. After New Year’s, you travel back to home to Monaco to rest and heal. The boys are all there for you – for whatever you need. They ask you how you are all the time, and they help you where they can. It is the little things, really, and one day you feel particularly bad about it. You cannot really give them anything back at the moment, and you feel like you are using them. You wake up with those feelings that they, and to distract yourself from them, you go on Instagram. Scrolling through your feed, you occasionally send them funny videos. It was the least you could do. After an hour or so, you lift yourself out of the bed, finally. You are very hungry, and you think about ordering something, when suddenly your doorbell rings. You need some time to reach it, walking slowly with your crutches, and when you open it, Daniel stands there in front of you. “You send me the first Reel on Instagram like one hour ago, so I figured you are hungry by now. I brought groceries and I am here to cook for you!” “I… You shouldn’t have!”, you try to argue, but Daniel already moves past you and into your kitchen. You follow him slowly.

When you see that he is already collecting dishes to prepare breakfast, you just sigh. He picks up the defeated sound and perks up, smiling at you. His face falls when he sees the way you look at him, like you are almost crying. “Hey hon, what´s up?”, he asks you. “I just… I feel so bad about all of this. I feel like I am using all of you, and like I am not giving anything back!” Daniel shakes is head violently, and he comes over to pull you in a hug. You almost disappear in it, and he draws soothing circles on your back. “Y/n, don’t ever say or think something like that again. You have almost given your life for us, and this is what friends are here for. We help each other when we can – sometimes one or the other does give a bit more. It equals out in the end. Besides, you still listen to all of us rambling, and you still give the best advice!” He pulls away and a tiny smile is on your face now. He ruffles your hair and before you can protest, he is back in the kitchen. “Now, go rest your ass on the couch, mate!”, he says, and you cannot help but laugh when you limp over to the living room.

Breakfast is nice, and Daniel makes you laugh with his stupid jokes. It is good to feel like this. You know that right now was the easy part – your friends are here, and they all have time for you. But you are afraid of what is coming after the winter break – when they are all gone, and you won’t be able to be with them doing the things you love the most. It will most likely break your heart, but you try not to think about it, at least not now.

It is a few weeks later, the next season will start soon. You have picked up training again, very slowly. It mainly consisted off walking on the treadmill, holding onto the sides. A few easy exercises that keep your body mobile and flexible and your muscles occupied. Spring is blooming in Monaco; the first sun is shining. Everything is going well. Well, almost everything. Right now, you are beyond embarrassed.

You had felt better today, so you had taken the taxi down to your favourite park to enjoy some time there. It had been late afternoon already, you had walked around a bit and sat down in a small restaurant to eat dinner. Now, it is later than expected, it was dark, getting colder by the minute, and you are beyond exhausted. Furthermore, the crippling feeling in your legs leaves you to panic, which is why you – against all rationality – do not call a taxi. Instead, you call Max, who picks up almost immediately. “Can you pick me up, Maxie?”, you choke out, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Send me your location!”, he says, and you can hear that he already picks up his keys. You nod, even though he cannot see that, and send him your location with shaky fingers. Max is there just ten minutes later to collect you. As soon as you see him, the tears really start to flow. He wraps his arms around you, his sweatshirt is collecting your tears, and he whispers encouragements while he gently strokes your hair. After a few minutes, you calm down and he helps you to his car.

He holds open the passenger door for you, and you climb in, almost falling because your legs are giving out under you. But Max is there, he catches you, and helps you. He closes the door behind you and gets in on his side. “You okay?”, he asks. You nod, using the sleeves of your sweatshirt to wipe away the leftovers of your tears. Max starts the car and drives through the dark streets of Monaco. You don’t know where he is going until he stops at the drive through of a Fast-Food restaurant. “I figured the occasion called for ice cream or a milkshake”, he tells you when you he sees your questioning expression. A tiny smile creeps onto your face. Max orders you a milkshake and gives it to you. You hold it in two hands like a child and Max cannot help but laugh. You pout a little, but ultimately smile when he takes a picture of you holding the cup in your hand.

He drives you to your place and helps you up to your apartment. Reaching the door, he stops for a moment and thinks. “Would you like some company tonight?” For a moment you think about telling him to go home, because you don’t want to trouble him any further. But being alone tonight sounds terrible, so you push down the unnecessary feeling of guilt and nod. He steps into the apartment with you and helps you take of your jacket. Together, the two of you settle in on the couch and put on a movie. You feel your eyes get heavy, but before you can tell Max that he might as well go home as you are about to fall asleep, you slip into slumber.

The next morning, you wake up in your bed. You stretch and roll over to your phone. A text from Max. “Don’t get scared when you wake up, I am sleeping on the couch.” You smile to yourself and get up. Max is still asleep, so you climb into the shower. Once you are done and dressed, you make your way into the kitchen to make breakfast. Already in the hallway, you hear voices. You are confused – you know that Max is here, but who else? Stepping into the kitchen, your eyes fall on Pierre. Immediately, a big smile appears on your face. “Pierre!”, you exclaim happily and his face lights up once his eyes fall on you. He rushed over and wraps you in a tight hug. What you don’t see is the wiggling eyebrows Max aims at Pierre. Pierre just rolls his eyes and then closes them to take in your scent for a moment. Soon after, you break the hug, but Pierre stays close, his arm loosely wrapped around your hips.

Max excuses himself shortly after, as he has an appointment. You bit him goodbye, and when the door falls close, you turn around to Pierre. “Why are you here already?”, you ask him, and he flashes you a cheeky grin. “Not happy to see me?” You shake your head but laugh. “I am more than happy to see you, Pierre! I was just thought you would arrive in two days.” “Well,”, he says and wraps you in another hug, “I really wanted to see you!” You are happy that your face is buried in his chest because a blush creeps on your cheeks.

Pierre pulls back a little and looks at you. “Are you feeling better today?”, he asks with genuine concern. You nod, “Yeah, thanks to Max. He picked me up last night and stayed over to make sure I was okay.” “Max told me what happened. Please, ange, you need to be careful. I know it is hard to be confined in this space and not being as independent as you used to be, but you need to watch out for your health.” You sigh, but nod. “I know. I am just really tired off this, and I want to experience things again. I am afraid that I won’t ever be able to get into the car again…” Pierre nods understandingly. “I get that. But the more you rest and listen to your body, the sooner you will be fully healed.” “Yeah, you are right. I –“, you want to say something more, but suddenly, your stomach growls.

Pierre laughs and you grin, a bit embarrassed. “I think you need some food!”, Pierre says. “Yeah, I am starving!” The two of you make your way into the kitchen and just now you see the huge bouquet of flowers on your kitchen counter. “Wow, these are beautiful”, you exclaim, “Thank you Pierre!” He smiles and waves it off. “It´s nothing”, he says, but for you, it is everything. Pierre pulls out one of your pans, and as you are about to help him, he shoots you a glare. You lift your hands up in mock defence and make your way into the living room. You get your laptop from the couch and sit down on the dining table, as you have some things to finish up. Just because you were not a driver anymore, that didn’t mean that you had nothing to do. Especially now that the winter break slowly came to an end – you had agreed with McLaren that you would be involved in their Social Media activity. It had been Lando´s idea, and you are really grateful for it.

While you couldn’t start on the grid next season, you also didn’t want to entirely leave the F1 world. You are not yet sure if that is a good decision, to be involved but not driving, but you would have to wait and see. Pierre joins you a bit later with some breakfast, and you are beyond happy to finally have him with you again. The two of you will spend some time in Monaco together, before the new season started.

You make the most out of that time. Some days you just sleep in, you in your bed and Pierre in the guest bedroom, and then you would have a long breakfast, you would take a little walk, talked with the fans. He helps you with your exercises, he is a gentle trainer, yet he inspires you to go a tiny, tiny step forward every day. He massages your muscles when they are tired, he applies the lotion your doctor prescribed you. He takes you out for lunch or dinner, he goes shopping with you if that is what you desire. He finds the best clothes for you, you feel pretty in them, you feel worth it in them. He makes you feel safe and protected and if you knew better you would say that he makes you feel loved, but you don’t talk about that. Right now, it is not the time for it, and you both just enjoy what you have for now. The lingering touches, the way the two of you gravitated towards each other. He takes good care of you, and he never gives you the feeling of being a burden, even if you need help with silly little things. Like when your arms and hands are so tired that you cannot take off your own socks. He never makes you feel like you have to be embarrassed about any of those things and it helps.

The break ends soon after these great moments and you hold up quite well. Saying goodbye to Pierre is hard, and you cry. He holds you and presses a kiss on your forehead and tell you that you can always call him. But it will be different, there will be the time difference and he will be busy, and you will be not. He still makes sure to call you whenever, and it works good somehow. Maybe it is because summer comes to Monaco and your friends visit you whenever you can. You train, you take it easy, you rest, and you heal. Soon enough, you are able to go for jogs again, your training becomes longer and harder and you seem to be on the right way. By the summer break, you feel stronger already, and life is rather normal again. You still feel exhausted some days and you are not where you used to be. But you were okay with that.

The sun lifts your mood up, even on the days you don’t manage to run very far. You still go out these days, just go get the kilometres down, to keep your body moving. Summer break comes, and with that the boys are back in town. They spend most of their free time with you, and you are beyond grateful for that. It means the world to you, that they come and visit. Pierre spends a lot of time in Monaco with you as well. You take it easy, enjoying the time together. Just like over winter break, he takes you out a lot. You go and see museums, concerts, whatever there is to do. Some days are exciting, others are slow and relaxing. You take naps on the day bed on your balcony, enjoying the warm summer sun. Your head often rests on Pierre´s lap, or you are cuddled up in his arms during those naps. Still, you don’t talk about it, it is all very natural, your relationship growing stronger every minute you spend together. However, labelling it is not your priority right now, it is still your healing journey.

The two of you also spend lot of time together with the other drivers. Like today for example. Currently, you are laying in the warm sun on the deck of Charles yacht. The boys are bickering about something, while you are reading. You had just left the harbour a few minutes ago, and the boys already distracted you from your book. You cannot help but smile though, you had missed this. It was almost like you were still part of the driver line-up, and you feel relieved that nothing has really changed. They are all still the same adorable dorks they used to be. Some time later, Charles stops the yacht in the middle of the sea. By now you are sweating and very warm, so you are the first person to take the leap of the deck into the ocean.

It is not really a problem; you feel good today. The guys follow soon after, and you start to joke around, splash each other with water, dunking each other under. You have so much fun that you don’t really listen to your body. You splash and dunk and swim around. Pierre watches you closely, like he always does. When you climb up the ladder, he is relieved that you choose to take a break, so he follows. You, however, have other plans. You are about to get ready to jump off the boat another time, when Pierre stops you. “You sure about that, do you not rather want to take a break?” You grin at him with the objective to calm him down. “I feel fine, Pierre!” He nods. “Just be careful, okay?” “Of course!”

You feel your mistake when you start to run to jump off the deck. Your legs are suddenly very, very heavy. You cannot stop anymore however, and before you realize, you are in the air. The force of impact on the surface of the water knocks the breath out of your lungs, your entire body suddenly feels heavy – almost too heavy for you to swim towards the surface. It takes you long to emerge from the water, too long. The others realize when you don’t come up immediately. Charles starts to swim towards you. A splash rips you from your apathy and you swim towards the surface with heavy arms. You emerge coughing and one second later Pierre is right next to you. He helps you to hold yourself over water, and soon, Charles is by your side as well. You are embarrassed, but they don’t let on how scared they really were. Pierre helps you up the stairs and you sit down in one of the seating areas. Pierre brings you a towel and wraps you in it. When the towel is around you, he doesn’t let go. “I am sorry!”, you whisper, “I should have listened to you.” Pierre shakes his head. “Don’t worry, just don’t scare me like that again.” “I won´t!”, you promise and snuggle closer into Pierre. He holds you and you fall asleep soon after.

The rest of the summer break is spent similar. You hang out with Pierre and the guys, you go to France with Pierre, you visit your family, life is good. But then, the races start again, and fall comes to Monaco and with that the rain and the grey days. You are not able to go out of your apartment that much anymore, you are lacking energy and you feel like you are making steps back. Your training doesn’t go as smooch anymore, you feel like your comeback might be in jeopardy.

You are in a bad mood, there is no reason to sugar coat that. You are beyond miserable. The feeling that you will not return next season haunts you, and you are terrified of it. What if you will not manage to ever race again? You have never known something else; you have never learned something else. You feel like you are drowning, and your saving comes in form of a particular Frenchman. He knows that you had been able to go on runs again and that you did harder workouts again, he knows that you were on a way to get better. When your best friend calls him and tells him that you spent most of your days inside now not doing much, he doesn’t believe it at first.

He does, however, when you open the door and look like you haven’t changed out of your sweatpants in a week. You look messy, eyes puffy and tired features. He is scared to see you like this, so hopeless and so… He doesn’t know how to describe it, but you look so little, so tiny. You weren’t the tallest, but usually you carried yourself like you were the tallest in any room. Now, you are hunched over. For a moment he thinks you are going to close the door in his face, but you don’t. “Put your clothes on, we are going for a run!”, he tells you. You don’t protest verbally, but your attitude shows him enough. He doesn’t flinch though. He drags you out of the apartment – you still haven’t said a word. He takes your hand when you arrive downstairs, and he pulls you with him. A little “Pierre, I can´t!” leaves your mouth, but he pretends that he doesn’t hear it. And, after the first meters, you seem to shake off the paralysis that had a tight grip on you the past week.

Your breath is steady, and you are keeping up well with him. It starts to rain, the trail becomes wet, and you slip at some point. You fall, and this little happening seems to make you fall apart. You stay on the ground, and you don’t grab Pierre´s hand when he reaches out. At first, he doesn’t realize but then he sees that you are crying, and he doesn’t care about his outfit – he drops to his knees next to you and hugs you. You want to turn away from him, you feel so fucking weak and pathetic, and he sees you in that state. It embarrasses you; it makes you angry. You want to push him away, you struggle a bit against his grip, but Pierre doesn't let go of you.

“Why am I so weak?”, you cry softly in his shirt, but Pierre hears you. “You are not weak, mon ange”, he whispers. He pulls you a bit closer, like he is afraid that the rain will wash and carry you away. “You are the strongest person I know. I know that life is hard at the moment, and I cannot imagine how you are feeling. But you will get there, I know that!” “I feel like I am the absolute worst version of myself right now, and I just don’t see myself driving next year, but… But that´s all I have ever known, it´s all I have ever wanted!” Pierre still holds you close. The rain is coming down harder now, and you are getting soaked to the skin. You don’t care, it doesn’t matter to you. “If I know anything, I know that you will come back stronger next than ever next year!” “Why do you keep on believing in me, Pierre?”

“You might see yourself as the worst version of yourself right now, but I think you are the strongest, the fiercest version of yourself right now.” For a moment, Pierre falls silent. He takes a deep breathe before he whispers the words into your ear, as if he is afraid that they will be washed away by the rain when he speaks up or speaks them further away from you. “And I believe in you because it is the only thing that keeps me sane. I cannot even begin to think about the fact that you might not ever race again, because it would affect my life in so many ways. It might be selfish, but I would not get to see you as much anymore, and the thought of that is terrible to me. I want to be able to come out of the garage and walk over to hug you. I want to hear your laugh sound all over the paddock because someone cracked a joke. And, most importantly, I believe in you because I am completely and helplessly in love with you.”

You need a moment to take that information in, understanding what he just told you. “You don’t need to say anything, I –“, you stop him by pulling out of his hug and taking your face in both of your hands. The position is not really comfortable, but you don´t care. You press your cold lips against his and kiss him. He kisses you back, and you can feel his warmth seeping into your bones. The rain is still coming down hard, but all you can feel is Pierre's arms around you, and it feels like you have found a lifeline, like you have a new purpose to fight and return stronger than before.

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