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frostgears · 8 months

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the chosen one

there are handlers that went to officer school and supposedly know what the fuck they're doing, all swagger with the authority of the Service behind them, uniforms like slices of space, voices like knives, their lethal charges trailing docile behind them.

they're the ones that show up in the porn sketches and the short clips of grainy video that circulate in the Fleet network. they're the ones that have pages and pages of fan fiction written about them.

then there's you. you didn't go to officer school. your entire signup process was this:

"hey, Cooper, you were in its old unit, weren't you? before it went to the lab? remember anything that'd distract it from biting at its own link sockets and screaming at techs?"

"uh, shit, sir, i can try…"

"great, it wandered into the rec room. go nuts."

you called your last conversation to mind. there'd been two major rec time activities in your last squad, and the alert that kicked off Paloma 17 had interrupted something.

you sat down next to the thing that had once been your squadmate, not meeting its weird red eyes. you already knew it didn't like that; looking it in the face was how Muñoz got their arm broken yesterday.

the augment whiffed of human sweat, the fake citrus of type-2 interface gel, something musty and unpleasant. its fatigues probably hadn't been washed ever.

"hey, asshole," you said, "you still owe me a Kinetic Princess match. best of five, remember? we were two and one when the hammer came down for P-17."

you put a gamepad on the floor next to it.

"ch. ch. ch."

was it laughing?

it swatted the gamepad away.

and then player 2's character select screen came up. without moving a muscle, it picked Valkyrie, switched her outfit to red, and handed you your ass, twice in a row, with no apparent exertion.

"ch. ch. ch."

yeah, it was laughing.

it kept laughing as it used its onboard hardware to disconnect your gamepad, choose the princess you'd just been playing, and win three matches against itself, beating Valkyrie with Marjoram.

again.

three-one.

three-zero.

three-one.

"well," someone said behind you, "that's kinda freaky. but better than tearing up the couch. guess you're on augment duty."

it was going all out. maybe trying to prove some sort of point. to itself? to you?

you got up.

it immediately paused the game.

"hey," you told it, "i gotta piss."

it followed you down the hall into the restroom. it tried to follow you into the stall.

"hah, you find a friend, Acey?" someone laughed.

"shut the fuck up, Lima." you tried to finish your business as best you could. it wasn't easy. the thing really did reek and it was not giving you a lot of space.

fuck it. you rose, didn't bother to wipe. you grabbed the augment and hauled it into the shower, spun the dial to hot, drenched the both of you, fatigues and all.

"wooooo! take it off!"

always a fucking audience in this place.

you found the zippers to strip the thing, flung wet clothing out of the shower at a spectator, pumped all-purpose soap into your hands.

"if you're gonna follow me around," you told the augment, "you gotta smell better."

this had to get done. you soaped it. all over. the generic floral smell of all-purpose soap was definitely an improvement already. felt human enough under your hands, except where it wasn't, the occasional beveled edge of a link socket. between its legs… human standard.

more hooting and hollering from the onlookers.

you remembered too late not to meet its eyes, but it just stared back at you, tilting its head a bit. no sign of aggression. was it smiling?

you never got around to the second major rec time activity with your old squadmate. you had no idea if she was ever interested. you also had no idea if sexual preferences survived augmentation.

fuck it. audentes fortuna iuvat, right? said so on your shoulder patch.

you slid a finger in.

shut the audience right up.

the thing kept staring at you.

you slipped a second finger in and stared back right up until you finished it off. it shivered visibly, made a sort of low whine.

nobody said shit after that. when you finally shut off the water, silence like a library.

you walked out. it trailed behind you. you grabbed a towel off the stack by the shower exit, wrapped the thing in it. it didn't protest. wearing nothing but your own towel, you stalked back to your bunk, hoping you still had a few clean uniforms, your expression daring anyone to mention that a single thing was out of the ordinary.

"heyyyyyy Acey, you get lu—"

someone always dared. this fucking unit.

the augment hissed. an unmodified human throat wouldn't have been able to make that noise; it sounded like a fire extinguisher. there was reverb in that hiss. there were teeth.

"oh, gods, just don't," you said wearily, looking back over your shoulder. it let Chroma, who had a tiny bit of sense in her head, back away slowly, in one piece.

anyway, that's how you became a handler. the pay bump is nice, your CO says you've been fast-tracked for officer school someday, and more to the point, the augment has already saved your whole squad at least three times.

but you have not once showered alone since that day, and you know it'd be a really, really bad idea to ever refuse a game of Kinetic Princess. that's just how it is when your real MOS is "weapon's favorite person". □

#empty spaces #dollposting #microfiction #combat doll

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little-diable · 18 days

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"Angel" He calls me – Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

Listen, this is fucked up – even I was unsure where this came from. But I ain't sorry for it, I know y'all will love this, you filthy heathen (i love you). Shamelessly inspired by the song "The Fruits" by Paris Paloma. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Her mother accuses the reader of preparing a satanic ritual, so she hopes that Priest Riddle can free the young girl from the devil's grasp. What a shame that the young priest is even more cunning than the Devil himself.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, smut in a church, heavy dub!con, choking, wax play, blood play, Tom being Tom, religious connotations

Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (about 2k words)

My love, are you the devil? I would worship you instead of him, I have no time for confession, for I'm too busy committing sins

“Priest Riddle!” Her mother’s shrill voice echoed through the empty church, repeated with every further step she took. (Y/n) struggled against her mother’s grasp, feet dragged along the cold ground as if she prayed that the floor would open up, that something or someone would crawl from the eternal darkness to hold onto her, rescue her from the hell she would experience any moment now. “Priest Riddle!”

The tall man appeared after another loud call of his name, concern tugged on his features, a facade her mother instantly seemed to buy into; a facade (y/n) instantly saw through. Priest Riddle was a devilish handsome man, a man so handsome he easily fooled those who clung to him, distracting them from his sinful character.

“Mathilda, (y/n), what is going on?” His bright eyes carried concern as he looked at (y/n)’s mother, concern that changed into something dark the second his gaze found (y/n)’s. Her mother’s torture was nothing against what he’d do to her, that much she was certain of after all those confessions she had been forced through – confessions that had ended with her knees having a carpet burn, with her ass bruised, and her jaw pulsing in pain from being stretched open.

“She’s gone insane, I’ve found her worshipping the devil! He has his dark grasp on her, oh you have to free my girl, you’re my only chance of finding help for her sinning soul, Father!” Tears dripped from her mother’s eyes, tears (y/n) silently cursed. She had done no such thing, all she had done was read a book Priest Riddle had borrowed her, one of the few interests both shared – Latin prayers her mother had mistaken for satanic rituals as (y/n) had tried to pronounce the words.

For a second, he studied (y/n), the annoyance she couldn’t shake, the wide pupils he had grown all too used to, feeling his cock twitch in his trousers at the excitement now thumping through his veins. “Leave her with me, Mathilda. She’s in good hands. I’ll take care of our girl.”

"Angel“ he calls me, does he know that I'm falling from a precipice that I tripped off long ago?

“Rituals, huh?” Her mother had left the church seconds ago, leaving the two of them behind. (Y/n)’s skin prickled, she was fighting against the need to scream, to throw a tantrum against her mother’s foolish behaviour. All because of him.

“This is your fault! She heard me read that prayer book of yours.” Within seconds he stood in front of her, ringed hand wrapped around her throat. Her heart was pounding, blood rushing through her veins, he could feel (y/n)’s fast pulse against his fingertips, a sensation that left the man smirking.

“My fault?” The way he spoke the words, with a voice so raspy and deep, (y/n) didn’t manage to stop her body from reacting, her thighs from trembling and her walls from clenching around nothing. For a few moments, neither of them spoke, all they did was stare at one another. “My fault, really, (y/n)?”

“I,” her words got stuck in her throat as he squeezed, cutting off her strength to pronounce any words. Priest Riddle always enjoyed silencing her, showing her how much power he held over her. (Y/n) was shoved backwards as he let go of her, watching her fall onto the stone stairs leading up to the altar.

“You see, (y/n), your mother may think I’m the saving grace, the voice of reason, but I think you know better, don’t you? There is no saving left for you, no grace I can give you. The Devil would have tried to save you, what a shame that I’m not him.” Angry tears welled up in her eyes, tears that began to drip as a laugh clawed through him. There was no escaping him, no matter how much her mind begged her to run, to never return to these unholy walls, her body craved his touch, desperate for everything he could offer.

“Undress, lay down on the altar, for me.” It took (y/n) a second to snap into motion, to undo the buttons of her dress with shaky fingers. Not once did her glassy eyes leave his frame, not as she stood naked, not as she slowly heaved herself onto the altar, not as she watched him alight the red candle placed next to the Holy Bible.

“Do you remember what John teaches us, (y/n)? He tells us: Whoever makes a practice of sinning is of the devil, for the devil has been sinning from the beginning. But tonight you will sin, tonight you will offer yourself to the devil, even though he will never have you. He fears me, and he will fear my precious toy once I’m done with you.”

“In nomine Patris et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.” He was standing behind the altar, with his ringed fingers holding onto the burned candle. (Y/n) was forced to watch him tilt the candle, letting the wax drip down onto the valley between her naked breasts. She hissed at the sensation, torn between excitement and fear, and yet she craved more.

“Princeps gloriosissime caelestis militiae, sancte Michael Archangele, defende nos in proelio adversus principes et potestates, adversus mundi rectores tenebrarum harum, contra spiritalia nequitiae, in caelestibus.” Priest Riddle’s voice didn’t carry any emotion as he spoke the lines of the prayer to Saint Michael, a prayer used in exorcisms, a prayer he used to mock her now. The candle kept dripping, one by one the drops of wax marked her body, leaving (y/n) moaning as his cold hand joined the wax, touching her hardening nipples with a smirk growing on his lips.

“Veni in auxilium hominum, quos Deus ad imaginem similitudinis suae fecit, et a tyrannide diaboli emit pretio magno. Te custodem et patronum sancta veneratur Ecclesia; tibi tradidit Dominus animas redemptorum in superna felicitate locandas.” No longer did (y/n) try to keep her moans bottled in, she arched her back off the altar as he added more strength to his touch, tweaking her nipples as the wax dripped onto her stomach. It felt as if he was making an offering, sacrificing (y/n) for the sins they had committed together, giving her up for his eternal salvation.

“Deprecare Deum pacis, ut conterat Satanam sub pedibus nostris, ne ultra valeat captivos tenere homines, et Ecclesiae nocere. Offer nostras preces in conspectu Altissimi, ut cito anticipent nos misericordiae Domini, et apprehendas draconem, serpentem antiquum, qui est diabolus et Satanas, et ligatum mittas in abyssum, ut non seducat amplius gentes. Amen.” The last drop of wax fell as Priest Riddle ended the prayer, tossing the blown-out candle aside to press his lips against (y/n)’s. Both moaned in unison as her fingers began to work on his belt, needing to free his cock with the silent hope that he’d fuck her on the altar spurring her on.

He twitched in her grasp, a sensation so familiar, she found herself relaxing, giving her mind a few seconds to relax. Seconds he used to study her with danger laced in his gaze, danger that deepened as her eyes were drawn to his throat, watching him rip his silvery necklace from his neck. The necklace twinkled in the dim light, momentarily entrancing (y/n) as if she was studying a rare gem, an offering only God would make.

“We have been bound together for months, you are my possession, and you will do as I say, you will let me lead you till I no longer think you’re worthy of my time.” He tightened his grasp on his necklace, and without another warning, he ran the sharp edge of the cross along his skin, instantly drawing blood. Blood so red, it looked like sacred wine, richer than Jesus’ blood, more powerful than any other offering.

He wiped his bleeding thumb along her lips, letting her taste the copper staining her skin like a tattoo made for eternity. They held eye contact as she parted her lips, letting her tongue lick his skin clean, unable to stop her moan from clawing out of her. She was nothing but a toy, someone he used to pass time with, someone to fuck whenever his body called for excitement – and she loved it, every fucked up second of their time together.

Priest Riddle let go of her to position himself between her thighs, his fingertips dug into her skin as he wrapped her legs around his waist. Soon he’d fuck her, soon he’d remind her that she was his – his only.

You're faithless, for you pitched me, against your holy father and it seems that I am winning

Without giving (y/n) any chance to prepare herself, he pushed into her, forcing his cock into her tightness. Her arousal allowed him to move without any struggles, moving as if their bodies had been made for one another. In some fucked up way she could have found something romantic in this, claimed in a church for all holy and unholy eyes to see, but the darkness he emanated was enough to keep her from thinking these thoughts.

Months ago when this had happened for the first time, (y/n) had been frightened, not knowing what the man would do to her. But after the first of many orgasms had wrecked through her, she had felt like Judas, the backstabber, the liar she had been turned into. No longer held back by the fear of sinning, rather giving in – all for the promise of being punished by Priest Riddle.

“Even the devil wouldn’t take you in, a soul filled with sins that even He would turn his back on. I’m your only rescue.” He panted his words as he buried himself deep inside of her, eyes staring down at her. Without stopping his movements, his hips from snapping against hers, he pushed the cross past her lips, forcing her to hold it between her teeth. (Y/n) could still taste his blood – heightening her senses as her walls fluttered around him.

She hated herself for enjoying this, for being at his mercy with her legs spread and her back arched. He only spoke the truth, he was her only chance of guidance, the only one to cling to as the others had left her behind, engulfed in darkness. Her saving grace, the poison she was addicted to, the bruising grasp she couldn’t shake.

“Cum for me, show them that there is no chance of rescuing you from me.” With the cross held between her teeth, she moaned for him. (Y/n)’s orgasm wrecked through her, leaving her shaking and panting beneath him. But the priest kept moving, searching his own high with his fingertips digging into her skin.

A heavy moan rumbled through Priest Riddle as he came, imprinting himself on her walls without giving her a warning. Once again marked by the man who called her his own property, once again marked by the devil’s most brutal brother.

“I need you on your knees, it’s time to beg for His forgiveness, (y/n).”

……

Translation of the Latin prayer:

St. Michael the Archangel, illustrious leader of the heavenly army, defend us in the battle against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the world of darkness and the spirit of wickedness in high places.

Come to the rescue of mankind, whom God has made in His own image and likeness, and purchased from Satan's tyranny at so great a price.

Holy Church venerates you as her patron and guardian. The Lord has entrusted to you the task of leading the souls of the redeemed to heavenly blessedness.

Entreat the Lord of peace to cast Satan down under our feet, so as to keep him from further holding man captive and doing harm to the Church.

Carry our prayers up to God's throne, that the mercy of the Lord may quickly come and lay hold of the beast, the serpent of old, Satan and his demons, casting him in chains into the abyss, so that he can no longer seduce the nations. Amen.

#Tom Riddle smut #Tom Riddle x reader #Tom Riddle imagine #priest fic #Harry Potter smut

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agendabymooner · 7 months

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MASTERLIST: O-Z by agendabymooner

LINK TO MASTERLIST: A-N F1 DRIVERS by agendabymooner

LINK TO SOMETHING SINFUL (SMUT) MASTERLIST by agendabymooner (MINORS DNI)

note: part two of my masterlist!

legends/genre:

a = angst g = general fic hc = hurt/comfort h = humour

s = smut (minors, dni) mc = mature content (minors, dni) f = fluff

★ - newly added ♡ - favourite piece

esteban ocon (eo31)

the royal wildcard, smau: the british media's good at getting the juiciest details of gossip from the palace, but much to their dismay, princess albertine spencer followed the footsteps of her brother harry and had done an amazing job at hiding her marriage with a certain alpine driver for three months. (f, g, h)

the royal resemblance, smau: albertine ocon lived to give her estranged family something to talk about because of her physical appearance that could be confused with her mother's ghost. too bad, ditty ocon was born into the world with the same heart attack-inducing features.

ditty and estie greet the world, fic: diana 'ditty' ocon looked so much like her namesake but act more like her father with her shyness.

pato o'ward (po29)

caught 'em lacking, smau: diwa arellano is mclaren f1's social media admin. so what if her constant teasing of oscar bites her in the ass and accidentally posts something that could potentially compromise her job? meanwhile, lando and oscar laugh at her demise while pato finds it endearing.

sergio perez (sp11)

she's beauty, she's grace, smau: in which carmella ayala perez, the miss universe 2018 winner, tied the knot with checo after their five years of relationship and the birth of their second child.

oscar piastri (op81)

lomi and the piastri fiasco (filo!gen z!ofc)

jollibee, madrid and all that romantic fiasco, smau: paloma san pedro is carlos sainz's cousin-in-law who also introduced oscar to his newly found filipino fast food chain addiction. safe to say that he bought a ticket last minute just so he can obsess over her, too.

live tweets, japan and all that romance fiasco, smau: how oscar's podium win in the japanese gp led to the revelation of his relationship with carlos sainz's in-law, paloma. lesson learned: just call her "pal" then she'll spill the tea for the both of you easily (f, h)

lucky charms, qatar and all that romance fiasco, smau: oscar is quite a forgetful guy, he forgot to mention to carlos, his future in-law, that paloma was his sprint lucky charm. (f)

long distance, england and all that romance fiasco, smau: paloma moved to england a year after enduring a long distance relationship with oscar.

other pieces

12345sex, smau: oscar is secretly freaky and mercury nicoletta had to show him off at some point. ★

kimi raikkonen (kr7)

stop the world i wanna get off with you, smau: vera 'coppa' coppola-raikkonen is the only one who can make the iceman talk a lot. she's also the only one who can make the chatty versions of him as their three older children (romania, rooney and johann-lauri) make their presence known to the racing community. (f, g, h)

someone's dad, socmed snapshot: kimi being the coolest dad, a series. ★

daniel ricciardo (dr3)

rush series (x måneskin member!ofc)

honey (are u coming), smau: how lester alessandro got blocked by daniel ricciardo before meeting him in monza 2021. (h)

own my mind, fic: it took lester almost six italian grand prix races to come across daniel ricciardo once more. sure, she was hesitant to speak to him regardless of the fact that she was his fan but the mclaren driver was certain he’d rather cause a stir in the f1 community with her after his win in monza than celebrate his victory with a lot of people. OR the second close encounter between the two of the most unhinged people of f1. (g, h)

read your diary, smau: it's 2021 and everyone thinks that lester and daniel are dating. lesson learned: never underestimate a fan's investigation skills. (g)

mamma mia, smau: an interview with jimmy fallon gives a brief idea of how lester and daniel came to be. (g)

mamma mia (again), smau: a youtube playlist was created to compile clips of danny talking way too much about his beloved girlfriend (f)

gossip, smau: everyone thinks lester's only here to be a formula one girlfriend with a bad reputation. it's not her fault she's confident. (mc, hc, h)

kool kids, smau: lester and daniel are going to new york to see a musical... while babysitting their "kid" (feat. lando norris) (g, h)

timezone, fic: lester wasn't normally like this, but she's more than willing to pay twice the price just to get to the next flight to where he wanted her: his arms, her home. (hc)

if not for you, smau: messages exchanged between lester and others as she takes care of the wolff children and an ex with the poorest decisions to have existed. (feat. lando norris, max verstappen, charles leclerc and characters from a story) (f, g, h)

baby said, smau: many tweets are posted that they don't often mean. their fans thought that his marriage proposal was one of them. (f, g, h)

supermodel, smau: how not to cry when you're talking about the man who'd give you the wedding that you dreamed of? (f, g, h)

rush series: wedding special

london bridge, smau: the alessandro-ricciardo wedding week is nothing of a peaceful week, and the monday only proved that thought right. (feat. f1 drivers) (f, h) - wedding special 1

fergalicious, smau: the grid singles need to touch some grass… or in lando’s case, go swimming. (feat. f1 drivers) (h) - wedding special 2

l'azienda di famiglia (e le donnole dell'isola), smau + fic: the alessandro family arrived and lando and george found themselves alone with two of the sisters. (feat. lando norris and george russell) (f, g) - wedding special 3 ♡

rush series: mrs. ricciardo special

part of you, smau: mrs. lester ricciardo asks her followers what to get her husband for his 35th birthday. little did danny know, she’s already got one ready to surprise him (f, g)

when emma falls in love, smau: as her pregnancy progressed, lester ricciardo made sure that her sanity wouldn't go the other way as she posted a thread of journal entries talking about her pregnancy. (f, h)

slipping through my fingers, smau: beau ricciardo was his dad's carbon copy and his mom's little heartbreaker.

here comes the sun, smau: despite having a red bull driver dad, beau ricciardo - or "little par" - is converted to tifosi, thank god for his full-italian mother. OR lester ricciardo's one year old son and his chaotic dad attended a måneskin concert when the bassist returned to the stage after almost two years of absence. (f, h)

pocketful of sunshine, scenario: beau ricciardo turned one and what's a good way to show his personality besides from showing it in front of an irwin? ★

other pieces

leaked, smau: daniel ricciardo is a borderline blabbermouth. (filo!ofc)

when danny said, smau: daniel + sadie samuels = it feels just right. (country singer!ofc) ★

george russell (gr63)

his family and her lover, smau: eleanora 'nora' alessandro was more than happy for george's willingness to step up as her children's father regardless of how people poorly reacted on their relationship.

she's magic (youtuber!singer!ofc)

the multifaceted gf and her pets, smau: arabella 'ara' elgin is multitalented and her haters couldn't do much about it as she released a new song about her relationship with george.

carlos sainz jr. (cs55)

two worlds entangling (filipino!ofc)

ride home, smau: the ferrari driver accidentally outed himself as a married man, so mona magdalena sainz stepped in to say hi to his loyal fans. (f, g, h) (extra)

dear, smau: nobody loved each other more than magda and carlos sainz. OR a series of tweets in which magda and carlos never took each other seriously. (h)

pag-ibig, traducido (love, translated), fic: no matter what cultural context and backstories, magda and carlos' souls were entwined into one all thanks to the languages of love that they shared. OR times when the spanish and filipino defined their love in many languages. (f) ♡

logan sargeant (ls2)

he's her lobster, smau: eugenia 'genie' newton + logan sargeant = mondler (h)

mick schumacher (ms47)

big mick energy series (x filo!ofc)

she's everything... and he's just mick, smau: barbara 'barbie' blanco is the vettel family's foster child that gradually turned to kimi vettel's nanny and mick's crush? (f, g)

"besties", smau: everyone swore that mick and barbie are more than "babysitting pardners" (f)

who is kenough, smau: mick nearly took the piss from arthur leclerc after the posts that the monegasque had of barbie. too bad, mick was already hers before arthur could even try. (feat. arthur leclerc)

kenergy unfolded, fic: written version of who is kenough OR arthur leclerc was only scheming just so mick could do something about revealing his relationship with barbie. ♡

the vibing allan and the reluctant ken, smau: for mick, there are only two words to describe his girlfriend's best friend arthur: a headache. OR arthur leclerc is a third wheel that mick always get on a fight with. thankfully, barbie had fair experiences with boys who are petulant and childish at times (kimi and seb)

barbie and the schuminis

mick multiplied, socmed snapshot: girl dad!mick that's all

the little schuminis, fic: 4 times when mick showed his devotion + 1 time his devotion paid off

lance stroll (ls18)

gotta be you, smau: bora mckinnon made her presence known in the paddock one year after lance broke up with her. now, they're all over the media because of his presence in her three birthday celebrations. the question still stands: are they getting back together?

diors and diecasts, socmed snapshot: lance stroll is sassy but so was his carbon copy. OR according to him, his son was a victim of the only child apocalypse. he also said that while buying his son everything he could get his hands on. ★

yuki tsunoda (yt22)

line without a hook, smau: pia ellis misses her mystery bf that everyone thought to be her delusions. it turns out he's a formula one driver who definitely misses her too.

chaos family, socmed snapshot: yuki is a dad to the little mini yukis known as hana and shin.

max verstappen (mv1)

✿ to loathe and to love series - max verstappen x hearth sister!ofc (sylvie ford) ♡

to loathe and to love: extras (x ofc)

lost in japan, smau: just two lost souls (with a tour guide) travelling to japan to make up for the childhood they missed. (f)

the purple chronicle (x ferrari!ofc)

paint him red, smau: alfrieda 'dina' ferrari is the only woman who can mark him as a ferrari fan - and he was quite alright with that.

sebastian vettel (sv5)

sweet rich life series (x filo!socialite!ofc)

crazy rich wife, smau: everyone (some twitter account) wonders where the recently retired german driver had gone to after the 2022 season. thank god for bel vettel, his fans now know that he’s still alive and is being spoiled and pampered by his wife. (f, g)

sweet spoiled husband (+ son), smau: mick schumacher is a grown man that both bel and seb treat like their own child. (f, g)

sweet spoiled schatzi, smau: bel and seb introduce the newest addition to their little family, and mick seems to love kimi vettel as much as a godfather loves his godchild. (f)

sweet little similarities, smau: bel and everyone could tell that kimi vettel was becoming more like his father, sebastian's, carbon copy as days went on. (f, g, h)

sebastian and sons (and soufflés), fic: day in the life of a retired sebastian vettel, featuring his kids kimi and barbie (and a nervous mick). (f)

sweetest spoiled sons, smau: sebastian was a father to not only two- but THREE kids. OR stefan vettel is the newest addition in the vettel household after years of trying and it's safe to say that everyone welcomed this news with open arms. (f)

crazy rich and famous, smau: the vettel couple stepped up to address the scrutiny that their children faced OR sebastian activated his instagram account just so he could show his masterpiece: photographs that he took of his wife for their anniversary.

seb's best girl, scenarios (x daughter!ofc)

Summary: Sebastian Vettel understood the downfalls of infertility just by being there for his wife. What he didn’t know, however, was that his life would drastically change when their foster daughter, Barbie Blanco, was put into their care. OR, what made Sebastian the best father figure to a teenager who had nobody but herself.

one, enter barbie: fifteen-year-old barbie blanco thought that meeting new people was intimidating, and sebastian learned that making her comfortable in her new home was a responsibility he should uphold as her father figure.

two, meeting mick in malaysia: barbie was brought to her first race ever and had met her newest best friends there. it was obvious that she and mick schumacher would get stuck to the hips after their first meeting.

mark webber (mw2)

the problem with following orders, smau: lydia 'liddy' vettel was what everyone considered 'a revenge best served cold.' of course that was a joke, it wasn't entirely either of their fault they were too drawn at each other. (g, h) ♡

toto wolff

✿ colour me your colour series masterlist - toto wolff x hearth sister!ofc (tilly marie hearth) series

colour me your colour: extras (x ofc)

the paddock's resident it girl, smau: besides from owning three of mercedes' competitors in the track and being the mercedes team principal's wife, she's also known as the cool girl of the paddock for her taste in fashion and husband. (f)

the paddock's lucky husband, smau: with him being spoon-fed with love from his children and wife, toto really couldn't ask for more. OR tilly wolff liked to talk about fashion but her family? she might as well write a whole book about them. (f)

the paddock's resident menace and the dame, smau: tilly wolff was presented with a damehood and her daughter tia, the girl who tends to act on her mischievous way (all thanks to toto), celebrated her 7th birthday during the silverstone gp week. fans recall her best moments in sky sports and media overall.

the paddock's iconic team owners, smau: toto and tilly wolff are considered the king and the queen of formula one for a good reason.

the arrow and the bull speared through the hearth, fic: tia wolff learned a lot from her papa and uncle christian, and tilly had to teach them a lesson too. (h)

the paddock's drive to survive, smau: in which, toto's wife tilly became a part of the season six of the netflix series 'drive to survive'. OR everyone believed her to be a part of big controversies in the formula one season of 2023. ★

#tbt, socmed snapshot: too many throwbacks, so little time. ★

many sommers with you (x supermodel!ofc)

twentieth sommer of love, smau: toto wolff celebrated his 20 years of marriage with his childhood friend/wife and their four kids. OR everyone wondered why irish sommer was referred to as 'the bitch of the runway.'

f1 drivers (general / multiple pairing)

✿ 9 to 5 series masterlist - f1 grid x ofc (lester alessandro) ft. fictional wolff kids

too much caring, smau, sv5 + jb22: kpop idol juno was assumed to have cheated on retired driver jenson button with his best mate sebastian vettel. oh how wrong those people were... ★

#formula one fic #formula one imagine #formula one smau #f1 smau #f1 imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula one au #formula one masterlist #formula 1 masterlist #f1 masterlist #f1 series #formula one series

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gregor-samsung · 1 year

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Memory Box (Joana Hadjithomas, Khalil Joreige - 2021)

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wanderingsimsfinds · 4 months

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WanderingSims Fave CC - Eyes, Eyelashes, & Brows List

1 - Pandelabs - GPME Contacts V3

2 - satellitesims - 4t3 sims3melancholic Paloma Eyes

3 - Gruesims - 3D Lashes CU & PU Eyeliner

4 - Buckley - S-Club [ts3-eyelash-f/m] design-n3-a [casp-eyeliner] fixes*

5- Alf-si - Eybrows 01

6-7 - Pixelore - J Alba Brows & M Kelly Brows

8-10 - Luxury Vanity Sims - 4t3 Archway Eyebrows, 4t3 Eyebrows 19, & 4t3 Eyebrows 22

11 - DepartmentStoreSimulator - Angissi Eyebrows N24

12 - Nemiga - 4t3 PralineSims Calix Eyebrows N112 Shaved

13 - Rollo-Rolls - 4t3 PralineSims Darling Eyebrows Less Hair

14 - DepartmentStoreSimulator - 4t3 Cosimetic Eyebrows N25 & 4t3 Cosimetic Eyebrows N28

16-36 - Sour Lemon Simblr - Eyebrows 2, Eyebrows 3, Eyebrows 15 & 17, Eyebrows 21, Eyebrows 23, Eyebrows 24, Eyebrows 27, Eyebrows 28, Eyebrows 29, Eyebrows 33, Eyebrows 34, Eyebrows 38, Eyebrows 39 & 40, Eyebrows 45, Eyebrows 46 & 47, Eyebrows 48 & 49, Eyebrows 50

*You will need the S-Club meshes: Female & Male (TSR)

#cc list #ts3cc #s3cc #s3ccfinds

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puckarchives · 4 months

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kilby girl: l. hughes

blurb: in which luke takes meets his kilby girl. / word count: 2.2k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

The first time Luke Hughes saw you, it was— for one, not something either of you expected. In fact, you technically weren’t supposed to be in the bar, and you were way too young to be legally serving drinks behind the counter, and it was a meeting that fate seemed to have overlooked for some reason.

The lights were dim and the music was loud— blaring an old 2000’s rock song that you were humming along too as you served the same rotation of businessmen in fake Rolex watches, frat guys trying to get your number, (or free drinks, but both were no’s,) and now, with the arrival of three of the New Jersey Devils, the occasional hockey player.

Regardless, though, the minute he saw you— flashing him a quick smile as you went back to putting together the three beers the man next to him had ordered, your shiny gold nose ring catching the dim lighting of the bar, and replying to the drunk ramblings of those around you with witty quips and jokes, he was in instant goner. An. Instant. Goner.

He was new to the team, and he had been filled in— mainly from Jack and Nico— that the bar you worked at was lenient in terms of why they served— as long as the ID looked real, it was real, so you went along to try and garner as many tips from as many customers as you could. And, when he walked towards the counter to try and order said drinks, (two beers for Jack and Nico, and one of the fruity cocktails you kept asking if people wanted just so he could see what type of reaction he could get from you when he ordered it,) he was interrupted from the WASP-y Chad next to him, ordering three drinks as well, and stealing away your attention from his approaching figure.

Regardless, however, Luke waited his turn— waited for the Chad to finish his drunk flirting, to which you had witty replies for, and tip you way less than you deserved, he approached the bar once again. Trying not to exude the nerves he felt looking at you up close— all pretty skin and pretty lips and pretty hair, he quickly mumbled off his orders.

“Uh, hi— can I get two beers and one of those Paloma’s, please?” he asked. He said so in his quiet manner— a Luke staple— and seemed to almost fold in on himself. He was large, you would give him that, but you would have thought a man like him, regardless of his height but instead just his general demeanor, would have tried to make himself the subject of everyone’s attention. Instead, he tried to slide past those near him,and get out of the way at whatever moment possible.

And, at first, because of the overbearing bass that seemed to be hitting every single note of Paramore’s “Misery Business” through the speakers, you didn’t register the words coming out of his mouth. The DJ, and old friend of the bar’s owner, had the music taste of an highschooler in the early 2000s, and made that fact very much clear whenever they decided to show up for their shift— playing everything off of their IPod Touch, and maneuvering from Paramore all the way to Fall Out Boy in a manner of minuted.

The mouth attached to a boy with a 6’2 frame, however, now stood in front of you— a frame that towered over you and the bar counter itself, and that you could clearly tell was moving, but seemed not to be able to register what was coming out of it.

“I’m sorry?” you asked, trying to get him to repeat himself.

Luke, in his quest to try and get his order to you, picked up the volume of voice— and that’s exactly the moment the DJ in the corner decided that he was done playing this rendition of the song, and instead lowered the volume of the music— all the way down. Meaning that the bar, which was packed to the brim with twenty-something wannabes and hasbeens, went completely silent, minus the chatter.

“SORRY, CAN I GE-” he yelled, before catching himself and stopping as the various heads turned in his direction to see who was yelling. It seemed, for a moment, as if he was going to burst into a puddle of embarrassment. You, however, kept staring at the boy in front of you with pretty eyes whose cheeks— and the tips of his ears— now resembled the red shaker you held in your hands.

“Woah there, no need to yell,” you joked, trying to diffuse the shame he must have felt, and ensuring you said the words with the lightest tone possible. Luke only shook his head and looked down, still trying to trample down the embarrassment he felt.

“DJ Davis over there is just known for his impeccable timing, and I’m sorry you were caught in his crossfire,” you joked, “but if you can look at me with those pretty eyes of yours and give me your order, it’s on the house, yeah?” you said, trying to make him feel better about the obvious crappy situation he had found himself in.

God, you really felt for him. You had never seen him in the bar before, and especially not on a Thursday night, when your shift was jam-packed full of the regular crowds of business suits and polos, so he was definitely a welcome addition, and now that you had gotten a chance to actually take him in— the curls he kept pushing behind his head, the frame that filled out his gray long sleeve well, and the obvious muscle definition you could see from his hands alone, he was cute— and more than that, he was still looking at you with his puppy dog eyes.

Snapping out of your stupor, though, you asked once more what he’d like, assuring him that “yes, it’s on the house,” and “no, you don’t have to pull out your wallet! I swear!” to fend off the hand that held a credit card in your direction. Once he repeated his order, however— the blood orange Paloma and the two craft beers— you set off to work, grabbing two large glasses from behind you, and then swinging around to grab another smaller glass for the Paloma.

As you mixed the mezcal-filled cocktail and poured the house drafts, you set them in front of him, and once again had to wave him off as he offered his card to you. “Please, I insist,” he said, still looking at you with his big eyes, and trying hard not to smile in your direction, holding the card out to you.

For Luke, though, he was still mesmerized by you— the drink making had caused a slight rush of red to your cheeks, and despite piecing together that you worked at the bar, it was still such a welcome sight to see you in your element, zooming around the bar, mixing the drinks like you could practically do it in your sleep, and on top of that, still being so nice.

Catching sight of the name on the card, however, you did a double take at the boy in front of you— a Hughes. You knew only one other person with that last name, (despite living in New Jersey, which was odd,) and as you looked away and searched the rest of the bar to find him, you landed on the hockey player you had come to know— Jack Hughes, and Nico right next to him in the corner booth. He was a bit shorter than the Hughes in front of you, and a lot tanner, but, despite what you told yourself, you much preferred the one in front of you.

“Are you by any chance related to the creep that’s been staring at you this entire time?” you asked him, still not knowing his name, and once again pushing away the hand with the card in it. “And put that away, I already told you it’s on the house, pretty boy,” you said, and wow, he sure could blush, you thought, as you once again saw the tips of his ears turn a pink shade. You weren’t trying to make him nervous or embarrass him, it was simply your personality shining through.

“Uh, yeah, that’s my brother,” he laughed, finally putting the card away in his wallet— which was Devils themed, how cute— and scratching the back of his neck. “Do you know him?” he asked you.

You stared at him, (again,) for a few seconds before meeting his eyes once more. “He’s your brother? As in, your flesh and blood?” you asked. He only laughed and shook his head.

“Well then, please let Jack know that he still owes me a round of darts so I can finish kicking his ass, and tell Nico that I’m no longer allowed to serve him the poutine fries after what happened last time,” you told him. “And while you’re at it, mind giving me your name?” you asked. “I can’t keep calling you pretty boy in my head. People might get the wrong idea, you know?”

Luke scrambled to keep up with your fast-paced speech, and once he heard the anecdotes about Jack and Nico— both of which sounded familiar and were probably true, he only laughed and picked up his drinks. Now that he was smirking down at you— and oh, what a sight that was— he met your eyes once more, saying a quick “Luke. Luke Hughes,” before turning his back to you, looking back one more time, and making his way back to his table, where the other two cheered at the arrival of their beers, and where Luke took a sip of his red-hued drink.

It wasn’t until you were able to peel your eyes away from their little group that you saw the small napkin laid in front of you— two $50 bills tucked into it, and the number of one “Luke” scribbled out on it.

It also wasn’t until much later that night— now almost nine hours into your ten hour shift, where you felt someone approach the bar as the final calls rang out once more. When you got the chance to look up from the glass your were furiously wiping, you were met, once again, with the smiling face of Luke Hughes— and now, you could tell the slight blush on his face wasn’t from the alcohol, but instead his reaction to you.

“Can I help you, man who left his number on a napkin?” you started. “Very suave by the way, but I would recommend you be careful where you leave that. Who knows what kind of psychos could have gotten a hold of it? Then who would be the rookie for the year?” you asked. His only response was a smirk— and god, it was cute— and a shake of his head.

“Well, we really wouldn’t want that. Especially since it was clearly meant for the beautiful girl behind the bar,” he added.

You caught on to his flirting, but just to make sure he wasn’t simply egging you on, you decided to mess with him one last time— ”Well, I’ll make sure to give it to Bertha once I’m done. I’m sure she’d appreciate the company of a stud like you,” you told him, trying to remain as serious as possible.

In the blink of an eye, his smirk seemed to fall, and he stumbled over his words as he tried to piece together that “No, it was meant for you actually.”

Your only response was to giggle, a sound that Luke instantly seemed to attach himself to, as you replied. “I’m just messing with you, I swear.”

“But, Mr. Luke Hughes, if I am going to use that number, I would like to to mean something,” you said. “Can’t just use it to get free drinks here.” You were hoping that his move actually did mean something — maybe it meant that he’d ask you out, or even just to start a friendship.

In the two hour difference after your introductions to Luke, you hadn’t only Googled him, but pieced together the previous information you had learned about him from your conversations with jack and Nico, when the pair would come in on slow nights and sit at the bar, chatting with you until they were forced to leave because of early morning skates.

“Well, I know I’m new to Jersey, but I would love a tour, if you’re free anytime soon?” he asked. Before you could respond though, you heard his name, and the mumblings of what sounded like “Stop flirting with Y/N” from somewhere behind him. You laughed at the voice, and turned back to Luke once more.

“Well, I work most of the week, but I’ll give you a text, hmm? We can set up a time, and who knows? Maybe I’ll show you everything good that Jersey has to offer” you said. His only reply was to smile, and before he left, turned back once more— ”That sounds good. Really good, Y/N.”

Funny, you had never even told him your name.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #quinn hughes #jack hughes #nj devils #new jersey devils #nhl imagine #nhl players #reader insert #nico hischier

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