#I’m sure I’m leaving some stuff out on accident but

[eu-nicola]

the fastest driver part 3

summary: you are a young and talented driver, who begins your journey in Formula 1 with Ferrari. despite your undeniable ability, you are constantly relegated to the background due to the Scuderia's strategies, which always favor your teammate, Charles Leclerc

warnings: take of pills

word counter: 7364

author's note: english is not my first language, this is from an amazing request, thanks for the comments 🤍

tags: @ilovechickenwings @amortentiaaaa @ananyasribughead @supertrashbread @amalialeclerc @rawr-123s-stuff @wierdflowerpower @malvikareader @freyathehuntress @sweetmuffynsblog @vjbillno

Endless hours passed after the accident before the first clear update about your condition reached the media and the paddock. Everyone was anxiously waiting for news about your health. The uncertainty left fans, journalists, and especially those who truly knew you in a state of tense anticipation.

Finally, a statement from the hospital's medical team brought some relief: you were stable and conscious. While initial tests had ruled out serious spinal injuries or significant fractures, the impact had been severe, leaving you with a moderate concussion and several internal bruises that required monitoring. What concerned the doctors most were the potential psychological and emotional aftereffects: the nature of the crash, the impact, and all the built-up stress could take a toll later.

Hours later, you woke up in a hospital room softly lit by the afternoon light. Everything was quiet except for the rhythmic beeping of the monitor beside your bed. Your body felt heavy, like it was filled with lead, and the headache was sharp and constant. As your eyes adjusted to the light, you noticed someone sitting nearby.

It was Charles. He was there, his hands clasped in front of his mouth, as if praying or just trying to calm his own nerves. When he saw you stir slightly, he lifted his head, and his expression changed a mix of relief and worry crossed his face.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, as if he didn’t want to scare you. “Thank God.”

You hadn’t expected to see him there. In fact, you hadn’t expected to see anyone. And yet, here he was.

“Charles…” you tried to speak, but your voice came out as barely a whisper.

“Shhh, don’t talk too much. The doctors said you need to rest.”

“What are you doing here?” you asked, ignoring his warning, even though just talking felt like needles stabbing your skull.

He shrugged, offering a light but sincere smile.  

“Someone had to make sure you were okay.”

Charles stayed by your side for hours, even when the doctors came in and out to check on you. He answered questions from the journalists crowding outside the hospital, desperate for a statement, and refused requests from photographers trying to get a shot of you. There was something unusually warm and protective about the way he acted.

As you lay back, eyes closed to avoid making the headache worse, you heard his voice.

“You scared me, you know? I’ve never seen anything so…” He paused, searching for the right word. “So violent. Not since Jules. And when I saw the crash on the screen, I thought the worst.”

You opened your eyes and looked at him. There was sincerity in his face, something you hadn’t expected.

“I’m okay… sort of.” You tried to joke, but the pain turned it into a grimace.

“No, you’re not okay. But you will be. You have to be.”

As Charles stayed with you, messages started pouring in. Your phone sat on the bedside table, just out of reach, and Charles offered to read some.

“Everyone’s worried about you. Here’s one from Lando… and even one from Toto. Seems like the entire F1 world is waiting for you to get better.”

“Who else?” you asked, almost dreading the answer.

Charles scrolled through, his expression hardening briefly before softening again.

“Max,” he said simply.

Your heart stopped for a moment. You didn’t know what to expect. Since the accident, you’d assumed Max was too caught up in his own world to care, but the fact that he’d written at all was enough to twist your stomach.

“What does it say?” you asked, trying to sound indifferent, though you knew Charles could see right through you.

He hesitated before answering.

“‘Hope you’re okay. Sorry I wasn’t there sooner. Let me know if you need anything.’”

The neutrality of the words didn’t match the intensity of what you felt hearing them. You closed your eyes, trying to process it all. What did that message even mean? Was it just courtesy, or was there something more behind those words?

Charles noticed your discomfort and set the phone aside.

“You don’t have to reply if you don’t want to.”

“I won’t,” you said quickly, though part of you knew that wasn’t true.

As night fell, Charles finally said goodbye, promising to return the next day. There was something comforting about his presence, how he’d set aside any competitiveness or formality just to be there for you. Yet, when you were left alone, the thoughts began to overwhelm you.

The crash, the messages, the worries it all tangled into a mess of emotions you couldn’t unravel. The only thing clear was that while you were physically stable, emotionally, you were far from okay.

After that day in the hospital, Charles became a constant presence in your life. His support wasn’t limited to encouraging messages or occasional visits. He went beyond that. Where others saw a moral obligation or an opportunity to score points with the media, he saw something else: a chance to show you that you weren’t alone.  

The medical team made it clear you could return to racing, but not without certain restrictions. You had to stick to a strict combination of medications after every race: anti-inflammatories, painkillers, and supplements to manage the physical and mental stress you still felt after the accident. Charles was the first person to offer to help you with this. It wasn’t his responsibility, but he seemed to take on the role without hesitation.  

The first race after the accident was a mental and physical challenge. As you prepared to get back in the cockpit, fear swirled in your chest. The accident was fresh in your memory, and even though you knew you were capable, there was a shadow of doubt you couldn’t shake.  

The day before the race, Charles showed up at your hotel. He had a small bag in hand and a calm expression, almost as if it was meant to soothe you.  

"I thought you might need this," he said, placing the bag on the table.  

Inside, there was a box of relaxing tea, a small book about mental strategies in sports, and a handwritten note. When you opened it, you found a simple phrase: "You’re stronger than you think."  

"Thank u," you said, moved by the gesture.  

"You don’t have to thank me. I just want you to know I’m here, okay? If you need to talk, if you need anything..."  

You nodded, grateful for his sincerity. For a long time, you’d felt alone in this world. It was strange to realize someone was willing to stand by your side without asking for anything in return.  

Race day was a whirlwind. Even though you tried to stay calm, every time you sat in the car, the memory of the crash resurfaced. You gripped the steering wheel tightly, reminding yourself you’d done this thousands of times before, that you were capable—one of the best.  

The race wasn’t easy, but you finished in a solid fifth place, a result any other driver would’ve considered a success under the circumstances. When you got out of the car, exhausted but relieved, Charles was the first to approach you.  

"Well done," he said, patting your shoulder.  

After every race, Charles made sure you followed the medical protocol. Sometimes, when you forgot the pills, he’d show up holding the box, reminding you that your health came first.  

"How do you even know I haven’t taken them?" you asked one day, half-joking.  

"Because I know you well enough to know you hate depending on this stuff," he said with a smile, handing you the water and pills.  

It was strange how his presence had gone from sporadic to constant. He wasn’t just there for the serious moments; he also found ways to make you laugh, to lighten the weight on your shoulders.  

It wasn’t something you’d planned or even imagined after everything you’d been through, but your friendship with Charles was good for you. So much so that you felt comfortable asking him something after noticing he’d been off for a while. You’d seen his behavior become quieter than usual, even in the paddock, where he usually managed to keep up appearances in front of the cameras.  

"Are you okay? You seem... off."  

His response came almost immediately.  

"Do you have time to talk?"  

You invited him to your place, where you saw a different side of Charles. He’d shed his usual composure and looked... vulnerable, almost like the facade he kept in public had cracked.  

"Thanks for this," he said, sitting on the small couch as you handed him a bottle of water.  

"You don’t have to thank me, Charles. What’s going on?"  

He sighed, fiddling with the cap of the bottle before speaking.  

"It’s... complicated. Ferrari doesn’t feel like my team anymore."  

You frowned, surprised by his words.  

"What do you mean?"  

"Since Lewis joined this year, everything changed. I knew it would be different, it’s Lewis Hamilton, of course but I didn’t think it’d be like this," he confessed, his voice low, almost a whisper. "I feel like everything revolves around him. The strategies, the resources, even the engineers’ attention... It’s like I’m a shadow in my own team."  

You felt a pang in your chest hearing that. It was almost an exact replica of what you’d felt when you shared a team with him at Ferrari.  

"Charles... you don’t know how much I get it," you said, sitting across from him. "That feeling of being invisible, like your efforts don’t matter... I went through the same thing with you."  

He looked up, surprised by your honesty.  

"Really?"  

"Yeah. Do you remember all those team orders? All those moments where no matter how fast I was, they always put me aside to favor you. It’s... frustrating. It makes you question everything you do."  

Charles nodded slowly, processing your words.  

"I guess I never saw it from your perspective. I always thought the team’s decisions were fair, but now... now I know what it feels like."  

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees.  

"Charles, I know how hard this is. But what you need to remember is that your talent doesn’t depend on them. Ferrari is just one team, one stage in your career—it doesn’t define who you are as a driver."  

"How did you deal with it?" he asked, genuinely curious.  

"At first, I didn’t," you admitted. "I kept everything inside, let the frustration eat me up... until I couldn’t take it anymore. But I learned something: you can’t let them take away what you love about this sport. If Ferrari doesn’t value you the way they should, then prove your worth on the track. Force them to see you."  

Charles nodded slowly, as if your words were beginning to sink in.  

"It’s easier said than done," he said, with a bitter smile.  

"I know. But I also know you have the talent to do it."  

The conversation went on for hours, shifting from serious topics to shared memories and stories from your days at Ferrari. It was strange, but comforting, to share that space with him. He’d gone from being the rival who overshadowed you at your lowest to someone you could fully trust.  

When he finally stood to leave, Charles paused at the door and looked at you with an expression you hadn’t seen before.  

"Thank you for this. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you."  

"I’m always here. You know that."  

As the door closed behind him, you couldn’t help but smile. Charles was so much more than you’d ever thought. And somehow, he’d brought out the best in you too.

While you were helping Charles find his way in a team that relegated him to second place, you couldn’t ignore the fact that your own demons were still lurking. And, as if that wasn’t enough, Max remained a constant presence both on the track and in your personal life.  

Since your move to McLaren, the rivalry with Max had reached a new level. If before you shared moments of camaraderie and confidences, now every interaction was loaded with tension. And not just on the track.  

The championship was on fire. You and Max were leading the standings, swapping first and second place race after race. On every circuit, every corner, and every straight, it felt like only the two of you existed. It didn’t matter who else made it to the podium; the battle was always between you and him.  

During qualifying, both of you pushed to the limit, but an incident in Q3 left Max without a lap time. As soon as he got out of the car, Max stormed straight toward you, visibly furious.  

“What the hell was that?” he snapped, his voice sharp as he closed the distance between you in the paddock.  

“What was what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, though you knew exactly what he was referring to.  

“You blocked me on my flying lap.”  

“Max, you were too far behind when I started my lap. I didn’t block you.”  

“Of course you did!” he insisted, stepping even closer. His blue eyes burned with a mix of frustration and something else you couldn’t quite place.  

The argument caught the attention of journalists and members of both teams. You knew that one wrong word could make headlines the next day, so you chose to stay calm.  

“If you have a problem, take it up with the stewards, not me,” you said before turning and walking away, leaving Max with the words stuck in his throat.  

But the tension wasn’t confined to the track. It had started to bleed into your personal lives. Even though both of you tried to avoid each other outside of race weekends, coincidences were inevitable especially at sponsor events or official meetings.  

At one of these events, an FIA gala in Monaco, Max couldn’t resist looking for you in the crowd. When he finally spotted you, you were talking to Charles, laughing at something he’d said. The sight seemed to ignite something in Max, and he couldn’t hold back as he approached.  

“Can we talk?” he asked, cutting into the conversation.  

Charles glanced at you, his expression a mix of curiosity and caution, before stepping back to let you decide.  

“What do you want, Max?” you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral.  

“You and Charles, what’s going on between you two?” he asked quietly, though his tone carried an accusatory edge.  

“What kind of question is that?” you replied, crossing your arms.  

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m losing it, but… every time I see you two together, I can’t help thinking that…”  

“That what?” you interrupted, annoyed. “That maybe someone else can actually support me and understand me in this chaos that you chose to ignore?”  

Max pressed his lips together, clearly feeling the sting of your words. But instead of responding, he looked away and muttered:  

“You still know how to twist everything around.”  

The conversation was left unfinished, but the night didn’t end there. Later, as you tried to avoid him, you found Max alone on the terrace of the venue, staring out at the sea, his figure illuminated by the lights.  

“Why do you do this?” you asked, walking toward him. Your tone was no longer defiant but tired.  

“Do what?” he asked without looking at you.  

“Show up, disappear, demand things from me that you can’t even give yourself. You’re still with her, and yet…”  

Max closed his eyes, as if your words were too heavy to bear.  

“I don’t know how to handle this,” he admitted finally, turning to face you. “You and me… I don’t know how to handle it.”  

“Then maybe you should stop trying,” you said, though your voice cracked at the end.  

The silence between you was deafening. Too many unsaid emotions, too many decisions both of you refused to make. Finally, Max stepped back.  

“It’s easier said than done, isn’t it?”  

And with that, he left, leaving you alone on the terrace, feeling like the two of you were trapped in a vicious cycle neither of you knew how to escape.  

In the days that followed, you tried to focus on racing and your friendship with Charles, who had become a kind of refuge in the chaos. But every time you saw Max, every time your eyes met in the paddock, you felt the storm lingering, waiting for the right moment to break again.  

The rivalry on the track only grew more intense. Max and you raced as if every race was the last, as if the championship depended on who was stronger, more determined, more ruthless. But off the track, you both continued to grapple with the same internal conflict: what you felt for each other and what the world expected of you.  

You and Max were the top contenders for the title, and every race turned into a war. The media called it “the battle of the century,” comparing it to the legendary Senna-Prost rivalry. Every overtake, every strategy, every word in a press conference was scrutinized.  

At the Brazilian Grand Prix, things came to a head. From the first lap, the fight between you and Max was fierce. You knew every one of his tricks, every weakness, every strength. There were moments when the cars seemed to touch, pushing the limits of competition to the extreme.  

On lap 43, you attempted an overtake on the inside of Turn 1, but Max, in his trademark aggressive style, shut the door almost recklessly. Your front tires brushed his, and though both of you managed to maintain control, the incident was enough to set off commentators and social media.  

“This is unacceptable!” your engineer shouted over the radio. “We’re reporting it.”  

But you didn’t want to win the championship through a penalty.  

“Leave it. I’ll settle it on the track,” you said, with a determination that surprised even yourself.  

In the end, you finished second, behind Max, but the battle was epic. Fans were divided, some siding with you, others defending Max. But in your mind, one thought started to take root: maybe you’d had enough of this world.  

After that race, you decided to take a break. You flew back to your hometown to spend time with your family, seeking comfort in their presence. One night, sitting in the garden of your parents’ house, you opened up to your mom.  

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” you admitted, staring at the stars. “Every race feels like a battle not just on the track, but inside me, too.”  

Your mom, always wise and patient, looked at you with gentle understanding.  

“Then why do you keep going?”

You stayed silent for a moment, searching for the words.  

“Because it’s all I’ve ever known. Since I was a kid, my entire world has revolved around racing. But lately… lately, I feel like I want something more. I want a normal life, a family. I want to stop fighting all the time.”

“What’s stopping you?.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I don’t know what that life would look like, or who it would be with.”

It was the first time you’d said those words out loud. The idea of giving up Formula 1, of walking away from everything you’d worked so hard for, was terrifying but also freeing.  

You couldn’t help but think of Max. Even though your relationship was broken, and the rivalry had reached its peak, there was still something about him pulling you in. But the question that haunted you was: did he feel the same?  

Max was still with his partner, at least publicly. But his actions, his looks, even his comments during races, hinted at something more. Could you build a life with someone who seemed incapable of facing his own feelings?  

“Maybe it’s not Max,” you muttered to yourself that night, curled up on the couch in your childhood bedroom. “Maybe it’s someone else. Or maybe I just need to find myself first.”

When you returned to the paddock for the US Grand Prix, something had shifted inside you. You hadn’t made any final decisions, but you knew this chapter of your life was nearing its end. Still, as long as you were in F1, you were going to give it everything you had.  

In the pre-race interviews, journalists bombarded you with questions about your rivalry with Max.  

“Is it personal?,” one of them asked with a sly grin.  

“Everything in Formula 1 is personal,” you replied with a wry smile, offering no further explanation.  

Max, sitting next to you at the press conference, shot you a sideways glance but said nothing. The tension between you two was palpable, even in front of the cameras.  

That race turned into yet another head-to-head battle between the two of you. During the final laps, the radio chatter grew more intense.  

“He’s losing rear grip. Push him.”

“I already am!,” you snapped, pushing the car to its limit.  

In the last lap, you pulled off a risky overtake that left everyone stunned. You won the race, and as you stepped out of the car, you felt a mix of euphoria and exhaustion.  

While celebrating with your team, your thoughts drifted back to your conversation with your mom. Maybe this was the ending you’d been searching for, or maybe it was just the start of something new.  

Max watched you from the podium, his blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t decipher. In the crowd, you couldn’t help but wonder: could you ever leave it all behind, even him?  

The next race, under the scorching Qatar sun, felt heavier, both in the air and in the paddock. Everything about this second-to-last race of the season felt like a countdown to something inevitable. You and Max were tied in points, both neck and neck after a season of epic battles, controversies, and moments that had pushed you to the edge emotionally.  

The tension in the McLaren garage was palpable. Though your relationship with your team was excellent, you knew the pressure was on you. Lando tried to lighten the mood with his usual sense of humor, but even his energy couldn’t cut through the wall of your thoughts.  

“Come on, don’t be so serious. We could both use a win today,” he joked while adjusting his gloves.  

“Sure, but if you win, I won’t complain,” you replied with a faint smile, though you both knew that wasn’t true. This race meant everything to you.  

Meanwhile, Charles had sent a message that morning: ‘Remember, one race at a time. You can do this. You’ve already proven you’re the best.’ His unwavering support had become one of the few things keeping you mentally afloat during this emotional rollercoaster.  

From qualifying, it was clear this race would be another direct battle between you and Max. Both of you blocked every attempt the other made to set the fastest time, ending up on the front row: Max on pole, you in second.  

The start was clean but intense. From the first corner, Max showed his usual aggression, shutting you out in an attempt to stay ahead. But you knew this game; he had taught you how to play it. You used the slipstream on the main straight, and on lap five, you overtook him with a surgical move in turn 6.  

For a moment, the world seemed to stop as you led the race, but you knew the real battle had just begun.  

Midway through the race, things heated up. Teams began to play with strategies, and tire choices became crucial. On lap 32, as you exited the pits after a tire change, Max appeared beside you. The overtake that followed was so tight the two cars brushed slightly, sparking an explosion of shouting over the radio.  

“That was way too close!,” your engineer protested, but you were too focused to respond.  

Max didn’t back down. In the following laps, he kept relentless pressure on you, looking for any weakness in your defense. On lap 48, he attempted an inside overtake on a tight corner, but you managed to hold your position with a move that left everyone on the edge of their seats.  

In the final laps, your mind was torn between the adrenaline of the race and the mental exhaustion you’d been carrying all season. Max was glued to your diffuser, but he made a small mistake on the second-to-last corner, giving you just enough of a margin to cross the finish line first.  

Your team’s shout over the radio was deafening:  

“Victory! You’re incredible, what a race!.”

But you didn’t have time to celebrate. As you parked the car in parc fermé, reality hit you: this victory only meant you were still tied in points, and everything would come down to the final race.  

The journalists were in a frenzy. In the post-race press conference, the questions came at you like bullets.  

“How do you handle the pressure heading into the last race?.”

“Calmly. One race at a time.” you replied, echoing Charles’ words, even though calm was the last thing you felt.  

Max, sitting beside you, spoke after you.  

“I always knew this season would be decided in the end. I’m ready for it.”

His gaze met yours for a second, and in that brief moment, the tension between you two felt more personal than ever.  

Back at the hotel, you tried to disconnect, but it was impossible. Your mind raced, replaying every detail of the race and anticipating what was to come. Charles called to congratulate you but also to remind you to rest.  

“Don’t let this consume you, okay?,” he said, his tone serious but kind. “You’ve done an amazing job, and you have everything you need to win.”

“Thanks, Charles. Really. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I don’t know what you’d do without me either,” he joked, managing to make you laugh.

However, when you hung up, you kept staring at the ceiling of your room, wondering if you were truly ready to face everything the final race was about to bring.  

Even though you hadn’t seen Max since the press conference, you knew he was just as restless as you. Despite everything that had happened between you two, you couldn’t help but think about him, about how this rivalry had consumed everything you once shared.  

Is this really what you wanted? To keep fighting, keep competing, keep losing yourself in the process?  

You closed your eyes, trying to calm your thoughts. Just one race left. One final battle. And after that, maybe you’d finally have the answers you’d been searching for.  

The last week of the season was a whirlwind of emotions, preparations, and a tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. The entire paddock was on edge. Everything would be decided in Abu Dhabi.  

Escaping the media’s attention was impossible. Cameras followed you everywhere, looking for any reaction that could turn into a headline. The atmosphere at McLaren was optimistic but tense. You’d brought the team to its highest point in years, and that was already a monumental achievement. But for you, it wasn’t enough. You wanted that title.  

During the press conferences, the questions were relentless. You and Max were the center of attention. Though both of you kept calm outwardly, the discomfort between you was obvious. Every word, every gesture was analyzed by the journalists.  

“How do you feel heading into this decisive race?” they asked you during one of the press rounds.  

“Focused. This is what we’ve worked for all year. I just want to do my job and see what happens,” you replied diplomatically, though inside your heart was racing.  

Max, sitting next to you, simply said:  

“I’m focused too. We both know what’s at stake. May the best win.”  

There was a moment when your eyes met, but it was fleeting. There were so many words left unsaid between you, and the weight of that silence felt unbearable.  

In the final strategy meeting with your team, the tension was palpable. You knew every decision would matter, every detail could be the difference between winning and losing. Your race engineer, always meticulous, reviewed the plans calmly, but even you could tell he was nervous.  

“I believe in you. You’ve proven you can do this,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder before you left the garage.  

Lando, on the other hand, tried to lighten the mood with a joke.  

“If you don’t win, can I keep the consolation trophy?” he said with a cheeky grin.  

“There won’t be a consolation trophy,” you replied with a smirk.  

That day, Yas Marina Circuit was lit up like a jewel in the desert, and the atmosphere was electric. Before getting in the car, you took a moment for yourself. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and visualized every corner, every move. You knew you had to give it everything.  

The anthem played, and the world seemed to pause for a moment. Max was beside you on the grid. Though you didn’t speak, you could feel his presence, his energy. You both knew this race wasn’t just about the championship but also everything that had happened between you.  

The start was flawless. From the first corner, you and Max were locked in an intense battle. Neither of you gave an inch. Every lap was a fight, every overtake a statement. The rest of the drivers might as well have been racing in a different category; it was as if this championship was meant to be decided between just the two of you.  

On lap 35, a slow pit stop almost cost you the race, but you quickly recovered, overtaking Max in a spectacular move on lap 42. The crowd went wild.  

But Max wasn’t going to give up. On lap 50, he took the lead back, forcing you slightly off the track. It was an aggressive move, but clean—classic Max.  

In the final five laps, both of you were at the limit. Your hands trembled slightly from the adrenaline, but your focus was unshakable. In the penultimate lap, you found a gap on the main straight and passed Max on the inside. This time, he had no answer.  

When you crossed the finish line, the world seemed to stop for a moment before exploding in celebration. You’d done it. You were a world champion.  

Your team screamed over the radio, their voices full of tears and joy.  

“You’re the world champion! You did it!”  

As you climbed out of the car, the emotions overwhelmed you. Your team surrounded you, celebrating. Lando was one of the first to hug you, shouting:  

“I told you! I knew you’d do it!”  

As you stood with your team, your eyes instinctively searched for Max. He was there, watching you from a distance. Slowly, he approached, his steps a mix of pride and resignation.  

When he reached you, he extended his hand.  

“Congratulations,” he said, his voice calm but heavy with emotion.  

“Thanks, Max,” you replied, shaking his hand. For a moment, his eyes reflected something that looked like regret, but he said nothing more. He turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.  

That night was magical. There was laughter, tears, toasts. The tension of the entire season melted away in a whirlwind of emotions. Charles called to congratulate you, and his genuine happiness was like a balm to your heart.  

“I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice full of sincerity.  

As the celebration went on, you took a moment to reflect. You’d reached the pinnacle of the world, but you knew this was just the beginning of a new chapter in your life. The future was full of uncertainty, but that night, you decided to enjoy the present, savoring every moment of your triumph.  

The emotional hangover the next day was overwhelming. It wasn’t physical, nor from the celebration, but a deep emptiness you hadn’t expected to feel after achieving the dream of your life. You’d won the Formula 1 World Championship, the peak of your career, but instead of feeling complete, you felt lost.

You woke up in your hotel room, sunlight streaming through the curtains. Around you, there were remnants of the celebration: a half-empty champagne glass on the table, the dress you wore last night carelessly thrown over a chair. The trophy, shiny and imposing, sat on the nightstand, but as you looked at it, you didn’t feel the euphoria you’d imagined for years.  

You got up and walked to the mirror. The reflection staring back at you was different from the one you were used to. It wasn’t just the physical exhaustion from the season; it was something deeper a sense of disconnect with yourself.  

You spent the morning avoiding your phone, even though you knew the notifications had to be flooding in. Messages of congratulations, articles from the media, videos of the highlights... but you weren’t ready to face it yet. Instead of feeling celebrated, you felt isolated.  

The idea had been lingering in your mind for weeks, maybe even months. The crash, the endless emotional struggles, the pressure to always be the best... it had all left its mark. And now, after achieving what you’d always dreamed of, you realized something: you didn’t want to keep going anymore.  

During breakfast with your parents, you decided to share your thoughts. You’d avoided bringing it up before, afraid of their reactions, but now felt like the right time.  

“I’ve been thinking about something... important,” you said, breaking the silence while fiddling with your coffee mug.  

Your mom looked at you with concern.  

“Are you okay? Does this have to do with Formula 1?”  

You shook your head.  

“No… well, partly, yes. Like I said, I’ve been reflecting, and I think... I don’t want to keep racing anymore.”  

The silence that followed was heavy. Your dad, ever the pragmatic one, was the first to speak.  

“Are you sure? You’ve worked your whole life for this.”  

“I know, Dad. But I’ve also given it everything I had. And now I feel like if I keep going, it’ll just be out of habit, not because I really want to.”  

Your mom took your hand.  

“We’ve always wanted you to be happy, no matter what you do. If you feel this is the time to stop, we’ll support you.”  

That conversation was the turning point. Over the following days, you talked to your team, Lando, and even Charles, who, although surprised, understood your decision. Lando tried to convince you to stay for one more year.  

“Are you really going to leave me here alone? We were just starting to have fun!” he joked, though there was genuine sadness in his eyes.  

“It’s your time, Lando. I’m sure you’ll do amazing things,” you replied, hugging him.  

Charles, on the other hand, was more serious.  

“I didn’t see this coming, but I get it. Just… promise me you won’t disappear completely.”  

“I won’t. I’ll always be here, even if it’s just as a spectator.”  

That same night, after hours of figuring out how to word it, you sat in front of the camera in your room. You were nervous, not about the decision, but about how the world would react. You wore a simple t-shirt, your hair tied back. You wanted the message to be honest, without distractions.  

‘Hi, everyone. I know this isn’t the video you were expecting after the incredible season we just had, but I wanted to share something important with you...’

You took a deep breath before continuing.  

‘I’ve decided to retire from Formula 1. This year has been the most exciting but also the most exhausting of my life. Winning the championship was a dream come true, but it also made me realize it’s time to close this chapter and start a new one.’

You paused, letting your words sink in.  

‘This wasn’t an easy decision. Formula 1 has been my life for so many years that I barely remember what it was like before. But I also know I want other things. I want time for myself, for my family, to explore who I am outside of this sport.’

Your voice wavered slightly, but you kept going.  

‘I want to thank my team, my teammates, my rivals, and, of course, the fans. Without your support, none of this would’ve been possible.’

When you finished, you turned off the camera and fell onto the bed. It wasn’t immediate relief, but there was something freeing about putting an end to that chapter.  

The video was released the next day and, as expected, caused a storm. The media debated your decision, fans flooded social media with messages of support and gratitude, and some even expressed disbelief.  

Charles sent you a text:  

“I saw it. I’m proud of you. You’ll do amazing things, no matter where you go.”  

And Max, who had avoided talking to you since the last race, also sent a short message:  

“You were the best. I always knew it. I hope you find what you’re looking for and that you forgive me.”  

Even though his words were few, they left a lump in your throat.  

That night, while staring at the stars from your balcony, you realized that, even though the future was uncertain, you were ready to face it.  

Weeks passed since your decision, and life finally seemed to find its rhythm. The constant noise of racing and the pressure to be the best slowly faded. But deep down, you felt like something or someone was still missing.  

Your house, now quieter than ever, became your sanctuary. You spent those days focusing on yourself, resting, discovering what you truly liked outside the track. But even in the peace of your own thoughts, Max lingered in your mind. He wasn’t a constant thought, but you’d remember him, especially when news of his breakup with his girlfriend started circulating. That, unexpectedly, stirred something in you, a knot in your stomach.  

Late one night, your phone buzzed. The name on the screen made you hesitate for a second. Max.  

The message was short, direct.  

“Can I see you? I need to talk to you.”  

You didn’t think much about it. You knew this conversation needed to happen eventually. You’d been avoiding it, but now it felt like the universe was putting it in your path.  

You agreed to meet at your house the next day, and when the door opened, there he was. Max, with that intense, direct gaze that had known you for years. Now, though, there was something different something more vulnerable.  

“Hi,” he said, his voice softer than usual.  

You invited him in, and he settled on the couch like it was his own home. The silence between you was heavy, filled with unresolved emotions.  

“I don’t know where to start,” he began, with a nervous smile.  

“Neither do I,” you replied, sitting across from him.  

The two of you just sat there, watching each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Finally, Max spoke.  

“Breaking up with her... wasn’t easy. I knew it wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t keep lying to myself. The truth is… I never stopped thinking about you.”  

Your heart skipped a beat, and a lump formed in your throat. You didn’t know what to say. Max, always so sure of himself, seemed completely different now.  

“Max... I don’t know what you want me to say. We’ve been on such different paths. You… always so focused on F1, on competing… and me too. Things were never easy between us, and now… I don’t know if any of this makes sense.”  

He nodded, understanding what you meant.  

“I know. I’ve been an idiot. I thought I could keep everything under control, but in the end… I lost what mattered most.”  

He looked at you intently, and in his eyes was a sincerity that made you question everything you’d been thinking until that moment.  

“But that doesn’t mean I forgot about you. It doesn’t mean I don’t care about what we had. If anything, it’s taken me time to realize that… maybe there’s something here we never really figured out.”  

You stayed silent, processing his words. The tension was thick, but something in his voice made you want to listen, even though you knew the situation was complicated.  

“And what is it that you want, Max?” you asked, your voice a bit shaky.  

“I don’t know,” he admitted with a small, sad smile. “I’m not asking you to forgive me or to go back to what we had. But I think… we should at least try. Not now, not right away, but… maybe we can see what happens, without the pressures of F1, without everything that kept us apart.”  

You got up and walked to the window, staring outside without really seeing anything. Max watched you from the couch, waiting for your response. The atmosphere between you had shifted somehow, and for the first time, it felt like you had both let go of the fight to always be the best.  

You turned to look at him.  

“I’m not sure I’m ready to start something new. After all, I made the decision to retire for a reason, Max. I’ve spent so much time on F1 that now I need to rediscover myself. And I don’t know what I want.”  

Max got up from the couch, slowly approaching you.  

“I get it. I’m not expecting it to be easy, or for everything to be resolved right now. But I want you to know I’m not pressuring you. I just… wanted you to know that, no matter what happens, I’ll be here. And if someday you decide what we had is worth another shot, I’ll be ready to try, no matter the past.”  

A deep silence followed his words. You knew there was still so much to figure out between the two of you, but something about his attitude, about his willingness to wait, struck a chord within you.  

You didn’t say anything else. You walked toward him, and for a moment, words weren’t necessary. The look in your eyes said it all. Still, there were no promises, no certainties just a silent understanding that, maybe, the future could be different. Maybe even together.  

“We’ll see what happens,” you finally said.  

Max nodded, not pushing, knowing that time would have to decide the course for both of you. And with that response, the future remained suspended between you, open, uncertain, but carrying a possibility that hadn’t existed before.

[dick-meister]

The absolute deconstruction of Adam’s mental in UC verse has me feeling a bunch of ways.

Like, he started out hopeful, trying his hardest to work things out with Lucifer and Lilith and actually did! They were having a good bit of fun and at one point Lucifer started to catch the tiniest bit of feelings for Adam. He talked to Roo for the first time in a long time to which he made amends for things between them as well.

Feeling good and having trust in them, Adam was fully prepared to go and talk to Sera and get an audience for all of them to talk about G’s plans but funnily enough, Adam’s own superior wouldn’t hear him out and locked him away for an amount of time he wasn’t even sure of. There he was bombarded by memories of himself and of Eve that tortured him pretty much.

At the time, he was feeling like the people of Hell were a lot better than those in Heaven only on the sheer fact that they listened to him and would listen to him. However after being broken out of the white room, everything changed dramatically. Lilith approaching Adam and trying to get him angry just so he could kill her in said anger, while around Lucifer, messed him up on the inside. He knew she was right on some levels but how it was done was just… wrong and left him literally beaten and half dead. Where else was he supposed to go after that but home?

Home, where he was now a fugitive if spotted by anyone who worked for the council as Sera had never allowed him to leave the White Room and if found, he would have been sentenced to fall. Only to just��� lie on the ground for a day, bleeding and being alone up until Charlie was ported to him by G himself as a test to see if Charlie would finish him off right then and there. The sad thing is, looking back on it now, Adam would have preferred her to do so.

There was a bit of regained hope for him at that time, talking to Charlie and taking care of her made him feel a little better in a way that he wasn’t so alone. But there was a growing feeling of abandonment that was quickly getting bigger and bigger.

Eventually, Charlie leaves back to Hell, Lute tells him of Sera wanting to summon him after an accidental slip of the tongue and they ditch to Hell together. At least at the Hotel he got some time to rest, however that wouldn’t take long to be disrupted, learning of Charlie’s death, then having to fight Charbringer and eventually give up fighting her knowing that it was wrong to do so and he died.

Adam still remembers feeling the pain of death, being dead and his soul slipping away. Even though, somehow it was reverted and Lute took his place in his stead to which he had to watch Lute die, and then watch Charlie die in his arms…

After that, he buried Lute and just gave up. Adam went home and felt nothing. He’s lost so much and when looking around himself for who he had, who was he supposed to go to for help? He didn’t view himself as anything but a joke to everyone, someone to pin blame to, someone to leave in the background. Of course Angela tried to console him, but he wanted people who knew him to help him, love him, because those who don’t know him say the wrong things, make assumptions and cause him to feel even more lonely and wrong.

His mentality at this point was so shattered that when Eve, who is absolutely alive, showed up. He thought she was just a figment of his imagination, more White Room BS who helped a little but once he left to see Emily and found out that Sera had passed in battle, he found that he really couldn’t feel anything towards it. He felt bad for Emily, but the feelings of it was all light and on the surface.

Once he got home, that’s when he made the decision, if he was doomed to be nothing more than a after thought then he would just go back to being the villain he once pushed himself past. It’s the only way he knew how to cope and it’s not like anyone was coming around to help him anyways, it was either the mask or lay on the floor until the Cycle ended and he couldn’t sit back and do that.

He’s come full circle, and that’s really sad but also an incredibly interesting character ‘development’ that’s happened over time. I thought Adam would end up being a hero through this story, showing off bravery, selflessness and care but… this has all gone so against him that he just can’t feel those things anymore or much of anything.

UC is…. Not great for Adam lol

[anadiasmount]

as time gets close - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: almost close to your due date, what is wrong with a late-night grocery trip with your very excited and anxiously waiting fiance?

wc: 1.8k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa 🗣️: a little dad! jude blurb bc we haven’t seen much of this on the timeline!! like always hope you enjoy 🤍

"why are you bending down? you know that is bad for you," you rolled your eyes at your fiance's scolding, grabbing the keys from the floor. "i dropped the keys by accident," you say as you pick the correct key that belonged to the lock. jude rubbed your belly, ensuring you were okay before helping you out to the car, the reusable bags tucked underneath his arm.

"did you bring the list?" you ask him seeing as he nods and pulls it out from the pockets of his hoodie. "i did. i also brought you some snacks because you didn't eat much after getting some nausea," you pouted your lips leaning up to peck his cheek thanking him. "what would i do without you?" you tease, a playful scoff falling from his lips.

"what makes you think you'd be without me? i'm attached to you for life remember?" he grabs your left hand kissing over your ring finger as he gives you a knowing look. you feel as he brings your intertwined hands to your belly, "and you're carrying my baby in there."

"really i couldn't tell," you say sarcastically.

"let's make it quick because my feet already hurt and i want to sleep," you advised letting out a tired yawn. despite being close to your due date, you still had some work to do before maternity leave. making calls to set meetings, attending them over zoom, filing paperwork, in charge of making sure the firm doesn't backfire, and planning some stuff out for your wedding.

jude had told you multiple times to take it easy, but placing that aside, he always helped you unconditionally. in the shower, when cooking, taking care of chores, before bed, and attending all your doctor's appointments. he was your personal midwife and wanted to take care of you the most he could.

you remembered to look on his face when you told him you were expecting, the tears on his face as he spoke to your barely bump all night and traced his hands on your belly. singing and humming lullabies and stories about his day. since then he wanted to protect you the best he could.

going to the grocery store at this time was nothing new, in fact, it became so prevalent now that you were pregnant because you craved everything. making jude do a late run to pick up your cravings or groceries for the upcoming weeks. the same store, at the same time.

you placed your purse on the cart, snuggling into your jacket as the cold air inside the store blew you away. you followed jude who picked out veggies and greens for his meal prepping, helping him tie the bags and weigh them on the digital scale that produced labels. you watched in awe as your boyfriend picked out three pairs of different flowers. "what are these for?" you asked, smelling the flowery scent.

"for the house. we need to replace the old ones that dried out," jude says with a shy grin. "you were the one who said plants and flowers bring a sense of home into our house, " jude recalled your words, kissing your temple, pushing the cart since it became a bit heavier. "i did say that didn't i? well i wasn't wrong," you shrug, wrapping a hand around his bicep as he trailed along isles to pick up the different items on the list.

he did all the heavy lifting as you reached and picked stuff up from your level, like spices and eggs. you turn your back for a few seconds to retrieve some milk and coffee beans for the morning, to see the cart filled with pop tarts and other salty snacks. "no no no," you shake your head, as jude whines out protests. "y/n we need them! they're even on sale!"

“jude, i don’t care! we just got some three days ago!,” you say laughing, putting back the box of pop tarts. “y/n i’m telling you right now, in a couple of hours or days you’re gonna have me running back here for them,” jude states following behind you.

“am not!” you quickly defend, bringing a hand to your aching back. “are too! last night you had me running out for cheetos. what’s it going to be today? kettled popcorn? or wingstop?” jude teased making you rolls your eyes and focusing back on to what needed to get done. “don’t forget we need to pick some of that acid reflex stuff for you, to get rid of the heartburn,” jude reminds you, taking the cart and walking out of the pop tarts isle, sneaking a box in for you.

“what’s left on the list?” you ask him, taking out a small snack you had in your purse and offering some to jude. “we need bananas, strawberries, orange juice, and meats for upcoming dinners…” jude reads the list one by one, using his index finger as he goes along.

you pass by an isle grabbing some cereal and granola for your yogurts and bowls. jude insisting he grabs his favorite too since you refuse to share from your part. as you wait by the deli section jude come behind you, grabbing your belly and relieving some of the pressure.

you immediately lay your head back on his shoulder sighing in relief, hearing jude chuckle and place a kiss on your head. “almost there darling,” he whispered running one of his hands along your tummy. “i know what you’re doing jude… and if this baby starts kicking right now i’ll leave you here,” you warn.

“i’m just trying to help you love. doesn’t it feel good?” he reprimanded as you nodded. “yes but not when she starts kicking, i swear she does it on purpose and it’s your fault. like she knows it you,” you said feeling your lower back less tense and heavy. "i kid you not, last night she almost made me pee from this hard kick!"

"sounds to me like we have a mini footballer coming into our lives," said jude continuing to hold your belly since you were tired and your baby was heavy. he had read the method online with other tips and tricks. jude got more into reading when he found out you were pregnant, wanting to know every effect and secret to ensure a healthy and safe pregnancy.

"let's hope not, i don't think i could handle cleaning up broken stuff around the house every day," you sigh, releasing yourself from his hold because you began to get hot. you didn’t understand how your body was so quick to adjust and then de-adjust from hot and cold, but it was so easy and it drove you mad sometimes.

“you okay?” jude softened his eyes as you let out a breath of despair, holding your hand and feeling a sit squeezed tightly against his. “yeah just got a mini cramp,” you held your back and practiced breathing methods you learned, “i’m good, i promise,” you kiss his hand before retrieving the meats from the butcher. "we'll get home soon, and i promise you a warm tea and massage okay?"

"did you want chocolate or strawberry milk?" jude held up the pint containers, "strawberry, we still have chocolate milk at home," you said, jude nodding as he quickly picked the orange juice and your favorite yogurts. "i was never a fan of sweet or flavored milk but these are soooo good," you exaggerated, jude smiling hard down at you.

"never a fan? these were my childhood as a kid! my mum used to buy these or the powder to make it ourselves," jude says recalling a old memory thinking of his babygirl. "you reckon she'll like them too?" jude spoke softly as he saw you give him a fast nod. if there was one thing loved it was discussing his babygirl. he was so anxious and wanted to meet her. the itch in his teeth getting bigger as every day passes.

to hold her while she slept, hug her to keep her warm, coddle her to sleep, feed her. he was ready for it all. he loved to shop and spoil her already. her carrier, crib, different books, toys, and stuffed animals like he had as a kid. she didn't know it yet, but she would be jude's second best friend. firstly you. always you.

they saw if one ever finds love at first sight, and jude definitely did with you. a smile so bright, eyes gleaming with happiness, a stranger who he fell madly with almost immediately after hearing her say hello. through ups and downs, you found your way to each other and since then, it's a love story for the movies. jude had his career blowing, a beautiful fiancee, and now a baby on the way. what more could he want?

as jude helped bag the groceries into the recycled bags you had, you paid and thanked the cashier whom you got close with on nights like these. asking how her day was, about her kids, anything special, always something to distract her. "you two have a safe night!" she yelled as you turned and thanked, wishing her a good night as well.

after you insisted on helping, you carried four light bags as jude carried most bags since he hated double trips. you guys quickly unpacked everything, longing and wishing to get into bed. you ensure the stove and other appliances are off, grabbing your tea and heading upstairs with jude.

"lay here for me," jude instructed, grabbing some cream and begging to smooth and massage out the muscles on your legs and shoulders. "after we have her, i promise i'll return every single thing you did for me while i was pregnant," you say struggled and full pleasure as the tension went away at jude's fingertips. "oh i'm fully expecting the injured boyfriend method again," jude teased as he finished up.

he grabbed a new book, laying on your side as you brushed and played with a few curls on his head, twirling them around your finger as he breathed softly. he looked so gentle and full of excitement like this, reading to your babygirl, who sensed her daddy's voice as she kicked. she knew, she always knew.

he applied your belly oil to prevent any stretch marks and kissed the small ones that formed along the way. jude cherished your body for carrying his baby in there, for being able to give and bring a new life into his and yours. you laid on your side, jude's chest connecting and fitting the crevasse on your back, holding your tummy as in a way to keep it safe.

you placed and locked hands with his, as jude wishing you a goodnight, peering kissed on your shoulders then finally lips, moaning in delight, a tiny groan leaving his lips. "i love you so much darling," he whispered, kissing your temple and snuggling into you more. "iloveyoutoojude," you said fast, with a playful smile on your lips as you felt a familiar sensation of a certain craving. "okay now i do want some pop tarts..."

"are you serious right now?"

[nastybuckybarnes]

Cling to me

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: You overhear something you weren’t meant to hear. 

Warnings: Angst, Language, Fluff, 

Word Count: 2.1k

A/n: wrote this one a year ago teehee but I LOVE this kinda shit I live for it. hope y’all enjoy 

~*~

“So things are going well, then?”

You shouldn’t be eavesdropping, you really shouldn’t. It was an accident.

You had approached the bathroom door to ask Steve for a towel, not wanting to drip water all over the carpeted hallway, when you heard him and Bucky talking.

The bathroom fan is on, drowning out the sound of you stepping closer to the wood.

“Well, yeah, I guess so. I mean... I guess.”

You frown.

You thought things were going great.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Steve lets out a heavy sigh and glances at the bathroom door then slightly lowers his voice, but you can still hear him clearly.

“She just... she’s real needy, Buck. She’s physically clingy, always sitting by me or on me and holding my hand and stuff... and she never leaves me alone when I’m out on assignments. I’m just... I need some space.”

Your heart stumbles in your chest for a moment before beating twice as hard, each beat smashing against pins and needles and sending pain radiating through your chest.

Too needy.

Steve thinks you’re too needy.

This is how it started with Jeremy.

You were too clingy.

Slowly, you back away from the bathroom door and slide down the wall, shivering at the wet droplets clinging to your skin, then put your face in your hands.

Steve won’t be like Jeremy. He can’t.

Everything will be fine, you just need to give him space.

You can almost hear Jeremy’s voice in your head, whispering words that he’d repeat when you were with him. But maybe he was right.

Just because you like being physical and spending time with him doesn’t mean he wants that too. You haven't even taken his wants into consideration.

A knock on the bathroom door startles your face out of your hands and you flip your head up, looking at the door with wide eyes.

“Honey? I’m just gonna go grab some drinks with Bucky and Sam. I’ve got my phone and I shouldn’t be home too late.”

You take a deep breath and nod even though he can’t see you.

“Okay, have fun!”

Your voice is a little duller than usual, a little less lively, but Steve chalks it up to the fan distorting your voice.

You stay rooted in place on the bathroom floor, knees hugged up to your chest, for hours.

You’re not sure why, whether it’s out of fear that he won’t come back or that he’ll be waiting out there to break up with you, but you’re terrified.

Eventually, after the chills have sunk into your soul and shivers are shaking your bones, you leave the bathroom and get dressed.

Usually, you’d put on a pair of panties and one of Steve’s shirts, but you can’t bring yourself to touch his stuff after what you heard.

You pull on a tank top and a sweater and your fuzziest socks, hoping to chase away the cold, though it feels like it’s here to stay.

The apartment seems so empty without him there, and you yearn to check up on him and make sure he’s okay, but you don’t go near your phone.

He’s a grown man and he can take care of himself.

You barricade yourself in the bedroom, cuddled up under the blankets and holding one of your pillows to your chest as you watch reruns of Golden Girls.

You fall asleep before he gets home, though you’re awoken by the sound of the door opening.

Instead of perking up and meeting him like you usually would, you stay in bed, pillow hugged to your chest and eyes shut.

He’s stealthy as he joins you in bed, sliding in behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist.

It takes everything in you not to shake his arm off.

As he leans forward and presses a kiss to the back of your neck, a tear slides down your temple and buries itself in the pillows.

~*~

Steve’s confused at your sudden change in behaviour, constantly checking his phone for texts from you and missing your touch when he sits on the couch reading a report.

You’re standing in the kitchen a few days later, talking softly to Yelena and Wanda while Bucky, Natasha, Sam and Steve all sit on the couches in your living room.

The two women lead the way into the living room and you follow them, not stopping your conversation as you take a seat between the two of them.

Steve’s eyes are focused on you, waiting for you to look at him, to realize that you’re not sitting in the right spot and that you should be closer to him, but you never do.

You stay engaged in your conversation, laughing at something Yelena says before turning your attention to Wanda.

Bucky watches curiously as Steve balls his hands into fists then turns back to the conversation he was having, his voice slightly more strained than before.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Bucky asks later that evening after almost everyone else has gone home.

You’re already in bed, oblivious to the conversation they’re having.

“I thought it was, but not cold turkey. She hardly texts me unless I text first, she doesn't kiss me goodbye anymore, and she hasn’t sat beside me once in the past week.”

Bucky shrugs, “you’re the one who said she was too clingy.”

Steve knows.

He fucking knows.

And maybe he’ll like it, but first, he needs to get to the bottom of why you’ve switched so quickly.

After bidding Bucky goodbye, Steve joins you in the bedroom, climbing into bed beside you and rolling onto his side to watch you.

Your attention is focused on the TV as if he isn’t in bed with you at all.

When he opens his mouth to speak, you reach over and turn off the lamp on the nightstand, then turn off the TV.

You don’t do it on purpose, but he doesn't say anything.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, turning onto your back and facing away from him.

He stares at you in shock.

The past couple of nights he’s come into bed after you’ve been asleep, but tonight he was sure you’d cuddle up against him like you usually do.

“Goodnight. I love you,” he murmurs, heart racing in his chest as he waits for your reply.

“I love you too.” There it is.

It settles his heart a tiny bit to hear you whisper the words, but he’s still confused by your actions.

You always cuddle up to him.

Always.

Every night that he’s been home for the past year.

And now you’re not even wearing his clothes to bed.

He can’t sleep at all that night, too focused on how strange you’ve been acting and how much he fucking hates it.

And then it dawns on him.

You must’ve heard him talking to Bucky.

That’s the only explanation.

His heart hurts in his chest and guilt floods his body. He tosses his head back against the pillows and squeezes his eyes shut, hating himself for ever speaking those stupid words.

He was just having a bad week. He was overwhelmed with work and briefings and then you were always by his side.

It was too much.

And now you’re doing everything in your power to distance yourself from him.

You’re lying in the same bed but you’ve never been further away.

Sure, he can feel the heat radiating off of your body, but you may as well be a thousand miles away.

The guilt wells up in his eyes and slips down his cheeks as he rolls onto his side and pulls you against his body, burying his face in your hair.

Fuck, he feels terrible.

All night he thinks about how much you do for him, how much you love him and everything you’ve given to him and sacrificed for him. And he couldn’t even appreciate you properly. No, he had to go and run his mouth about bullshit that he didn’t even mean.

He has to make this right.

He will.

He just has no idea where to start.

~*~

When you wake up the next morning there’s a strong arm secured around your waist.

You’re so used to waking up alone that you can’t help but cuddle into it. That is, until you remember his complaints.

Shifting as slowly as you can, you try to slip out of his grip, but he only wraps his arm around you tighter.

“You’re leaving?” He asks into your hair, his voice groggy.

You swallow hard and clear your throat.

“Bathroom,” is all you manage to whisper.

He lets out a heavy sigh but slowly unwinds his arm from around your waist.

“You’re gonna come back after, right?” He asks, his voice soft.

You hesitate before getting up, unsure of what to say.

Are you?

You don’t particularly want to.

Well, that’s not true. You want to, more than anything, but you don’t want to overwhelm him and smother him with your clingy nature.

“Do you want me to?” You end up asking, glancing over at him.

He slowly opens his eyes, sadness filling them, and you regret asking.

“Honey... what I said the other day... to Buck... I wasn’t thinking, sweetheart. I don’t think you’re too clingy, not at all. I think you’re perfect for me and the way that things have been lately… All the distance between us? It’s been unbearable. I hate it. I didn’t know what changed at first but... I’m sorry.”

Your heart is in your throat at the fact that he knows you heard what he said.

“I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I’m sorry,” you whisper, pushing into a seated position to get off the bed.

“Honey, wait. Please. Please, don’t go. I miss you. So damn much. All I want is for things to go back to the way they were. And... I know that will probably take time, but I just miss you so fucking much.”

Tears prickle at your eyes and you sniffle, refusing to look at him.

“I didn’t mean to be clingy. I know... I know I can be a lot. It’s one of the issues Jeremy and I had. I can give you space, Steve.”

His heart cracks and he sits up behind you, one hand finding your lower back in an attempt to get closer to you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want space. You’ve given me space and it’s been the worst experience of my life. I just want you back. I want to hold your hand and kiss you and talk to you and be near you. I love you and you... you make me feel important. You make me feel loved.”

He has to fight his own tears as he speaks, and you sit silently in front of him, eyes focused on the carpet.

“For so much of my life, I felt alone, besides Bucky. I felt like I had no one and no one would love me. And then I went under and I woke up and... everything was different. I was a man out of time. I never thought I would ever have found someone who loves me as wholly as you do. And I’m sorry for ever making you feel like you need to change yourself.”

His arms wind around you and he pulls your back against his chest, slowly rocking you from side to side as you sniffle.

“You are everything I have ever wanted and more, sweetheart. I love you for everything you are and everything you do, and I’m so damn sorry I ever made you feel like you were too clingy. You’re perfect for me. Sometimes I think that you’re the reason why I survived it all. Was so that I could find you. You’re it for me.”

His words help to heal the wounds he caused, but what really does it is the meaning behind it. The love he’s pouring into every syllable he speaks is powerful enough for you to feel without even trying.

You know he regrets what he said. But, more importantly, you know he’s not Jeremy.

Steve loves you.

Slowly, you turn in his arms and look up at him, and his heart breaks even more when he sees the tears on your cheeks.

“If I’m ever too much, you gotta promise to let me know, okay?” You whisper.

He huffs out a weak laugh and shakes his head, squeezing you to his chest.

“You are never too much for me. You’re everything I could ever want or need and so much more. You’re perfect for me. And I’m gonna try my hardest to be good enough for you because I love you. I love you with my whole heart and soul.”

“I love you too, Steve,” you whisper, burying your face in his shoulder as he hugs you tightly.

And there on the bed in the dim morning light, Steve clings to you.

He clings to you like you’re his lifeline, like you’re the energy that keeps him going.

He clings to you, and he doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

[headkiss]

I’ve got a slightly angsty idea for Hotch if you’d like it:

Reader gets into an accident of some kind and ends up in the hospital, and Hotch is worrying out of his mind the whole time because he’s on a case or something, but all is well and it’s fluffy at the end and just love and “don’t ever scare me like that again” and all that good stuff

hiii thank u so much for ur request!!! sorry it’s taken a couple of months to get to </3 i hope u like it!! | 0.6k mentions of a car accident and a teeny tiny injury, and fluff (duh)

“Aaron?”

Hotch knew something was wrong as soon as you’d called in the middle of the day while he was away. You’d always wait for him to call first, to make sure he had the time.

So, the buzz of his phone in his pocket worried him. Even more so when he heard the way your voice shook through the speaker.

He walked away from the rest of the team, leaving their temporary conference room at the local police station and finding somewhere quiet before speaking, “what’s wrong, honey?”

“I’m okay, I promise, but…” you paused to clear your throat, forcing your startled tears back, because you really were okay. “I got in an accident. Nobody’s hurt, but they want to take me to the hospital to make sure I don’t have a concussion or anything.”

Aaron’s heart was pounding, and he had to remind himself that you weren’t badly hurt, that you were right there on the other side of the phone, talking and breathing. He squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand through his hair, wishing he was closer to you.

“Okay,” he says, though it comes out in a breath. “Okay, I’m gonna try to get home.”

“No, Aaron, you really don’t have to. I’m not injured, and they need you there.”

Truthfully, you’d love to have him beside you, his hand tight in yours, his voice cutting through the ringing in your ears, his presence calming enough. But you knew what you were getting into as soon as you started dating Hotch, and you’d never expect him to have to choose between you and his job.

“The team is more than capable of doing this without me, I promise. I’m coming to you, alright?”

You know there’s no changing his mind, and selfishly, you don’t want to. “Okay. Thank you.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

He doesn’t want to hang up the phone, doesn’t want to leave room for the worry and fear that’s already creeping up on him, but he does.

The team, of course, is very understanding, reassuring him that they can handle this case and that he should get home, telling him to let you know they all hope you’re okay. He’s driving to the airport within minutes.

It’s only a few hours later that Aaron lands, rushing back to your place straight from his flight after confirming with you that’s where you’d be. His hand shakes the slightest bit as he slips his spare key into your door.

Aaron breathes your name when he sees you on your couch, a small bandage on your cheek. “You said you weren’t hurt.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest as he crosses the room and crouches in front of you, cradling your face in his hand so gently your eyes well up. The shock seems to catch up to you, the relief you didn’t know you needed just by having him near is almost overwhelming.

“I’m not,” you sniffle once and his eyebrows furrow. “I’m not hurt, I promise. It barely even bled. I guess it’s just sinking in now.”

You blink and a tear slips down your cheek, but Hotch is quick to wipe it away with his thumb. He moves to sit next to you on the couch, tugging you as close as possible, your cheek buried against his collar, his hand running up and down your back.

You can hear his heart beating in his chest, quicker than usual, but you don’t call him out on it.

“You’re okay,” he says, and Aaron’s not sure who he’s reassuring more.

“My car’s probably totaled,” you mutter against him.

“Cars are replaceable, you aren’t.” He drops his mouth to the top of your head, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“I was scared,” you admit quietly.

“I know, honey,” he says, shifting so that his cheek is resting atop your head. “I was, too.”

[fastboatsmojito]

just saw ur scott reblog gRAAAHH WOOF WOOF anyway !!! and it inspired me to request something <3 (love ur writing btw) pls write something with scott and how big he is 😣 a lil suggestive if u know what i mean 🙈

OHH YOU GET IT SO HARD + thank you so much !! 🫶🏼🫶🏼 whenever someone says they like my writing i get so giddy, it’s just the sweetest 😞

Anyways!!! Absolutely, thank you for fueling my obsession with this large man 💓

Just some scattered Scott x reader thoughts really

|CW; somewhat suggestive, he calls you girl once ☝🏼 incredibly obvious size kink from both parties whoops, he’s pretty canon-accurately an asshole, + suggested dom/sub relationship stuff??? Kinda??? Like not really but a little bit??? idk how else to tag that lmao. Obviously there’s a size difference here but it’s not specific, you could really just be shorter than him and it’d work just the same mwah <33

The first time you really notice is a total accident, you got caught up in the sight of the storm in front of you, not even given time to react to his stern “get in.” before he’s picking you up and putting you back in the car.

“What the hell was that?” He snapped, figuratively and literally as you blankly stare at him, still focused on how effortlessly he carried you back to the car.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know, it was just so close-“

“Yeah, no shit it was close. You could’ve gotten yourself killed. You have to pay more attention than that.”

You just nodded, staring at the way his hands flexed as he drove away, suddenly aware of the drastic contrast between the two of you. He picked you up like it was nothing, which was nothing considering the size of him, you just hadn’t thought about it in that way before.

——

He doesn’t think anything of it for a while, chalking your lingering glances up to his over-analytical mind, until you unintentionally piss him off with it.

“Is this going to be a problem for you?” He was right in your face, arms crossed over his chest as he bitterly chewed his gum, working himself up even more when you couldn’t give him a direct answer.

“If you can’t do your job ‘cause you’re too busy staring at me or whatever the fuck, I’ll have to move you to Javi’s team. Got it?” He barked, shaking his head as he stormed off.

As soon as he realizes why you’ve been staring at him, it’s over.

You were at the diner with the rest of the team, smiling as you walked to the table, bumping into some hard, tall, figure in front of you on the way.

He turned to steady you, big hands landing on your waist. “You ever try paying attention to what you’re doing? It’s pretty helpful.” He was a dick, sure. But you still found yourself focusing more on the feeling of his hands and the way your face warmed up at his assertive tone.

“You ever try not being an asshole?” You rolled your eyes at him before you walked away, but he didn’t miss the pause, or the way your breath picked up at his words. He put it together then, having been so caught up in work he didn’t realize just how tolerable you were getting, his hands constantly drifting towards you absentmindedly whenever you were close enough.

——

He usually went to work to get his job done and go home which was made clear, but after a while he got carried away. Comfortable enough being around you to end up reluctantly carrying you out of the car one night.

He tried to wake you up, met with sleepy grunts and you repositioning yourself before falling back to sleep.

He wanted to just leave you in the car, give you a blanket or ‘whatever’ but it was too cold, and you were in some small town he didn’t know well enough. He rolled his eyes as he took you out, large, rough hands a nice juxtaposition to the way he gently lifted you up.

He had to bring you to his room, not sure of where your room key was and not interested in dealing with your mood if he woke you back up.

He laid you down on the bed, throwing the blanket over you before taking off his work shirt and getting ready to begrudgingly sleep on the couch in his own room.

He went to turn off the lights, groaning when he saw you sit up, whining and stretching your arms.

“You know your necks gonna hurt if you sleep on that couch, Scotty. C’mere.” You sleepily muttered, patting the bed next to you.

He knew it was a bad idea, not missing the new nickname as he put his face in his hands, too exhausted to argue and too self-aware to disregard the attitude he’d have if he woke up to you in his bed and a sore neck.

“Jesus Christ. Alright, fine. One time. Don’t make it weird.” He gruffed as he turned the light off before slipping into bed next to you.

You were facing him as he faced the ceiling, his arms crossed firmly along his chest like some grumpy old man, still awake and motionless when you cuddled into him in your sleep.

——

After that he’s basically torturing you until you say it out loud. Putting his hands on your waist all casual to move past you, refusing to acknowledge any of it first.

Both of his hands were on your shoulders as he crouched down to be eye level with you, losing his patience after he caught you staring at his arms when he was trying to talk to you.

“If you want something, you’ll have to use your words like a big girl and ask for it. All this pouty, wordless shit won’t work with me. I need you to listen to me when I talk to you.” He spat condescendingly, minty gum popping in your ears. He grabbed your chin between his thumb and pointer when you shook your head.

“No? I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me what you want. I’m not about to guess.” You squeezed your eyes shut to get away from his intense stare.

“I don’t want to say it here.” You barely whispered, opening your eyes when he sighed.

“Damn it.” He breathed before pausing, standing up tall and scanning over the parking lot you were in.

“Alright, come on.” He said bluntly before grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Scott-“ You pouted as he swept you back to his motel room.

“Just shut up and let me help you out for once, yeah?”

-

I need him so bad

[blackknight-kai]

Hello! I've been reading your works and I absolutely love it 💖💖 you're actually the first few people who got me into this fandom, and for that I'm eternally grateful ☺

As for the ask, is it ok if I ask general yan HCS of both monkeys? Maybe with fem reader? NSFW is fine. Thanks so much and have a good day! ❤

OOoOOooOOkay! So Ima give this my best shot! Keep in mind I do more ‘soft’ yandere mainly because I do like me a bit of romance with my darker stuff. I WILL add some darker things at the end though!! (I don’t delve into yan often so bare with me 🫶🫂 I’m learning)

Keep in mind before proceeding this isnt your typical HC everyone :)! It’s going to have some Non Con/stalking/whatever comes to my mind. I went with whatever direction my brain was going so I hope this came out okay!

Warning: Yandere ideas

Destined One

At first you didnt notice anything different about him compared to anyone else outside of the obvious physical traits and some personality traits. He’s reserved, quiet, and focused entirely on his goals. His determination and strength is something that awes you to this day. Something you do notice about him though is that hes observant. Always taking note of his surroundings and using his senses to keep himself aware of what going on. When you first started traveling with him he seemed to almost…ignore you a bit. As though you weren’t really a scratch on his so called journey and mission. But over time you start to notice him staring at you and watching you. It’s a little intense but you just chalk it up to him being him, maybe he’s curious about his companion finally?

- [ ] He hadnt really thought much of you when you first joined him. It honestly took him a bit of time to realize he’d grown a bit….attached to you. His eyes always following your every move and his ears always listening for you. Your scent? He has that memorized.

- [ ] DO is going to start off subtle about his attentions towards you. He’s not going to be rash, unless something pushes him to it.

- [ ] He’s ALWAYS watching you. Always knows where you are and what youre doing.

- [ ] His feelings for you go from zero to almost 100 - although he’s silent about it at first. You’re going to notice him staring or even sometimes getting things you needed for you before you even knew you needed it.

- [ ] DO doesnt do things in half measures. He’s focused. Which means once he’s turned his attentions on you, ALL of him is focused on you.

- [ ] DO knows it’s wrong, but cant stop himself from doing some of the more…inappropriate things with you. Such as watching you while you bathe or change.

- [ ] *Non Con - He’s going to end up touching you while you sleep. Be it an accident at first (yeah right) or he just doesn’t stop his urge to do so. But he’s going touch you because you’re too inviting to him. He won’t go so far as full on sex, but you will be caressed and eventually as he gains confidence you’ll find marks you’re not sure where they came from. He’s going to decide the very first night his hands slip under your clothes that you are his.

- [ ] No one else will EVER see you or touch you like he had. Ever.

- [ ] He’s going to be hyper attentive to you, lulling you into this sense of “Aw he cares for me and takes care of me”. While YES he does, it’s also to further his own goal in regards to you. The foods he brings? Not every time, but sometimes might have a little something in them that makes you a little…sleepy. Pliant. So he can run his hands under your clothes or leave little marks on you without you making a fuss. Your body will NOT be afraid of his touch, he’s going to make sure of it. Sex is still something he’s reserving for…claiming you fully. For now, he’s going to take his time getting your body just used to his hands and the way he makes you feel with them or his tail.

- [ ] He’s going to manhandle you, sit you where he wants you and if you fuss he’s stubborn and won’t budge about it, using his strength to hold you where he put you, to the point you let him have his way because it’s not worth arguing over.

- [ ] You dont realize it but he’s also been scenting the hell out of you, your clothes, and even your bed furs. To you, it just smells like a combination of you, the forest, and of him - which you dont think anything of because he carries stuff for you a lot.

- [ ] But him scenting that stuff? It’s a very loud claim especially since it’s not just him rubbing his face or neck on the items….no he’s rubbing those materials around his cock and balls. Getting his musk all over it.

- [ ] On you, he will be a bit more subtle with his scenting. Wrapping a tail around you or brushing his hand through your hair or against you as he walks by. But sometimes DO shoves his hand down his pants, coating his hand or even tail in his musk and then rubs it on you. You are HIS.

- [ ] He’s jealous as all hell too and will make it known by how he behaves towards others in regards to you. Does NOT like anyone even looking at you, it makes him want to carry you off to some makeshift nest and KEEP you there, to prevent wandering eyes.

- [ ] Speaking of, as soon as his journey ends thats exactly what he wants to do. If he doesnt have a place in mind he’s definitely going to make sure he finds one. It will be the nest for the two of you. He will make sure he gets you everything you need so you wont need to go out.

- [ ] Before that though, he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure you know that you’re his and he’s going to make sure you dont want anyone else.

- [ ] When his journey is over, immediately youre thrown over his shoulder. He’s carting you off to your permanent home, away from any dangers or the possibility of someone stealing you away from him.

- [ ] Here is where he’s a bit more…demanding and forceful. See, by this point he knows your body wants him, he’s smelled and felt how wet you get for his touch and he’s seen your eyes on him. You’ve been slowly pulled into his orbit once he has you in his chosen space he’s going to have all of you.

- [ ] He’s not going to just strip you and shove himself in, no. He still wants to make sure your body is willing. So he’s going to be more bold and more obvious about his touches.

- [ ] Bathing alone? Not anymore. Changing alone? Nope. Unless he’s gone doing something like gathering food or a quick patrol, your body is for his eyes. He will let you have some modesty but he’s going to slip his hands under your clothes when he pleases and feel your soft warm skin.

- [ ] You’re going to be awake when his tail or fingers forcefully slip between your legs, he’s going to pull orgasms out of you until your awake conscious learns to relax for his touch like your sleeping body and conscious do.

- [ ] You wont be allowed to leave, he will make sure a clone is around you at all times if he cant be and when youre sleeping he’s wrapped around you, his limbs like vices.

- [ ] Your skin will be marked with his bites and some claw marks, not deep enough to truly harm but enough to remind you of him when he’s out of sight.

- [ ] He will slowly get you addicted to his taste as well, slipping a pre or cum coated finger into your mouth as you orgasm so your brain learns that his taste means pleasure.

- [ ] When he takes you he’s going to be gentle but firm, he wants you to feel good but also wont let you resist him. He’s CLAIMING you now. His fangs will bite into you, this time with the purpose to scar his claim on you.

- [ ] After this, he’s going to make sure youre always ready for him, is not above using a clone to keep you spread open and wet for him via cock warming or a prefucking. You will be molded to the shape of his cock.

- [ ] He’s also going to slip inside you when you sleep, waking you as he ruts into you or touches your body.

- [ ] Your body WILL know that his touch means pleasure, but if you resist he’s going to make sure you remember your place. He will be rougher with you. Wanting you to submit.

- [ ] He will always pamper you after, cuddling you and cleaning you. But his cum will remain inside you until he’s ready to help you wash it out.

- [ ] He’s going to make sure you are so reliant on him, his touch, his presence, and all he does for you that you wont remember that his possessiveness isnt normal, that he’d stolen you away without asking and that he continues to lay his claim on you.

- [ ] No, youre lulled into a sense of belonging with him….youre his to care for, protect, and take.

- [ ] All in all and in general, Destined One is a quiet but firm yandere lover. Only when you really push back/push his dominance does he get too harsh with you. Depending on WHEN he finds you will depend on how quickly he steals you away. But he’s going to take care of you, you are HIS mate and mates are to be cared for, protected. He knows it’s not exactly normal to keep you the way he does, but something in him wont allow for you to even have the possibility to consider someone else. He’s going to show you that HE is the best for you. That HE knows the best for you. He may be jealous and possessive but he wont harm you so much so that you would be repulsed by his touch. No, he wants you pliant and giving in when he reaches for you, relaxing in his embrace or even seeking his touch out. If you take your pleasure with out him, he’s not going to let you sleep, it will get to the point you will end up passing out and he will keep going. He’s going to take you again when you wake. Your pleasure is for him to take and give.

Wukong:

Wukong is…very friendly to you. He also is a very good, if sometimes annoying, traveling companion or protector. So you really don’t notice anything out of the ordinary with him in the beginning. By the time you do it’s honestly too late for you. He’s lulled you into his intricate web and there’s no escape from him. Because he’s had his eyes on you and what Wukong wants, Wukong gets. He also knows there is no one else better than him for you.

- [ ] He knows almost immediately after meeting you that he wants you. It’s not a normal ‘want’ either. It’s the kind of greed he that claws at him from the inside desperate to get out and get a hold of you.

- [ ] Wukong will temper SOME of his more…greedy tendencies down. At first. But he has a way about him that is very demanding and commanding. Being the King and powerful being he is.

- [ ] He has a way of making you feel comfortable around him, as though you belong by his side. He’s going to make sure you see HIM as your protector and someone to go to for help or anything you need.

- [ ] Wukong will be outright flirtatious with you, but he wont be overtly forceful with his touches right away. He wants to get you warmed up to him and used to his ‘casual’ touches. Something he does NOT do for others but you dont need to know that.

- [ ] He definitely disguises himself when you go bathing, be it a fish in the water or a bug flying about. He wants his eyes on you at all times. Yes, this means he may brush against you often while in his forms of trickery.

- [ ] Would absolutely disguise himself as a woman in a bathhouse if you went to one and offer to help you bathe. (He will fish for compliments about himself if you mention him traveling with you)

- [ ] Wukong is going to be manipulative in a way you dont even realize. He’s mouthy and cunning so he’s going to use his words to steer you in whatever direction he wants things to go in.

- [ ] He’s also very opinionated and stubborn, sometimes using that to his advantage to get you to submit to him with some kind of benefit after, be it something he gets for you or he’s just all around more pleasant. He’s subtle about it all at first.

- [ ] Everything will be orchestrated to his needs/wants even if it LOOKS like it’s yours, because in his mind he knows what’s best FOR you.

- [ ] You’re going to wear clothes he finds for you (will probably take your preferences into consideration because he wants you happy but will definitely get things that suit his taste too), you will periodically have to share his clothes (because he dirty’s yours on purpose or ruins them).

- [ ] He wants you to rely on him for most things, getting you food to cook, personal effects/items, etc. Essentially hes going to be a sugar daddy LMFAO but in a way that he’s not necessarily giving you money, he just gets the thing for you while you wait for him because he wants you getting used to HIM taking care of you.

- [ ] *Non Con - Wukong will definitely slip things at times into your food or drink, wanting to make you think your having lovely dreams about him but in reality he has you in his lap, your legs spread wide open, one over each of his knees as he’s caressing your body or filling your hole with his tail or fingers. The wet sounds filling the air while youre out of it. Come morning there wont be a trace on you - besides the ever present lingering scent of his on your skin thanks to how touchy he is in general. Through this he explores your body, getting it needy for his touch.

- [ ] He’s also going to cum on you while you sleep or will rub his precum on the inside of your panties so when you wear them you dont even realize what he’s done as its mixed with your natural discharge of fluids that end up on your underwear throughout the day. But HIS precum and scent is pressed directly against your pussy all day.

- [ ] Depending on the situation - he may steal you away right away or he might wait and bide his time, getting you to be relaxed with him before he takes you away for himself.

- [ ] Either way, once he has you to himself he’s going to get more intense. He may not penetrate you right away but he’s going to make you crave him, until you finally beg him to bully his cock into your hole.

- [ ] He’s going to press against you all the time, rubbing his body on yours, striping you and bringing you to the edge of pleasure with his fingers, mouth, or tail until UH OH, you didnt beg him to claim you. Oops….cant orgasm because you clearly dont need him like you should. But that doesnt mean HE cant cum. So he’s going to do so and rub it into your skin or cuming against your mouth as he holds it open. Wukong wants to cum in your pussy but he holds back, instead cleaning his cock off with your panties and making you wear them all day. Showing ownership over you.

- [ ] As mentioned before, hes mouthy. He’s going to be good at using his words and voice to pick at things and make you question things. Including calling you out on your body’s reactions to him. He finds it amusing when you try to hide it. He’s going to dig into those things about you and make you squirm - get you worked up as he whispers filthy things to you. Things you might not even have thought about but now you are.

- [ ] All you’re going to know is him, what he can give you and what he does for you. He’s made sure of it. So by the time you finally beg him to stuff you full, finally fully submitting to him and giving up your stubborn pride, he’s not going to hesitate. He’s going to press you down, ass up face pressed to the floor or bed with his hand on the back of your neck as he holds you down. His cock is going to enter you in one thrust and he will be nice for just a moment to let you spasm around his shape. Wukong will coo at you and the second you even slightly relax hes going to pull back and thrust in hard. The way he takes you that first time is total dominance, you will know who you belong to and where you belong. His finger prints will be bruised into your skin and his bite mark on you as he fully claims you as HIS MATE.

- [ ] He’s going to take care of you after though dont worry, he will be gentle and kiss your body. But he’s going to make you orgasm no matter how sore or overstimulated you are - this second round will be softer. The part of him that loves you and wants to pamper you taking over.

- [ ] Wukong wont have any issue playing with you in front of his monkeys (adult ones), so if there’s a meeting going on expect his tail to wander where it shouldn’t, slipping inside you. Or he will have a clone who’s bullied his way between your legs under the table. He might even have you sit on his cock, keeping still as he deals with whatever monkey business is going on. No one will ever see an intimate part of you, he wants to keep that for himself. But they will hear you screaming his name and they will see his marks on you.

- [ ] Over all Wukong as a yandere is much more vocally and mentally manipulative. He is also raw power and strength not used to being denied. If youre too stubborn or push back he’s going to show you who is boss and why HIS way is best. He wont ever truly harm you, but youre going to know punishment / consequences for your actions if you displease him. You’re his mate, so he’s going to take care of you but it’s going to be in the way he deems best. If you fully give yourself over to him he will pamper the absolute fuck out of you while also probably pushing your boundaries here and there. Because he LIKES showing his ownership of you. Wukong wont mind you taking your own pleasure but for every orgasm you have (essentially taking them from him) he’s going to have some form of punishment lined out for you. Your body is going to know the feel of him and him alone, or him and his clones because he has zero problem with pushing you to your limits with his clones, wanting to see you cock drunk on him.

General Both:

- [ ] Regularly walks around with your juices on his chin or on the fur surrounding his cock.

- [ ] Good at after care but doesn’t hold back when he wants something

- [ ] Loves seeing his marks on your skin and presses against them regularly with his fingers to watch you squirm and remember how you got the marks.

- [ ] Not above using all the tricks in the book to get you.

- [ ] Will happily chase you down if you run - into predator/prey stuff.

- [ ] Sensitive to your returned (given willingly) affection.

Extra dark -

these are harsher so skip if you don’t like: Doing a “both” here because it’s easier. These are in general terms so different AUs/situations apply

- [ ] Very jealous & possessive. If someone shows interest in you…they aren’t gonna live long.

- [ ] Will manipulate the things around you without you knowing to get what he wants which is YOU. Be it people or events etc - will make himself look like a good option/only option you have. (If he has to clone into someone or kill someone / make them look bad he will do it)

- [ ] He thinks he knows what’s best for you so whatever he needs to do he will and you will learn that too.

- [ ] Will kill someone you may have been interested in/with/might be married off too.

- [ ] Will assert his dominance by fucking you/making you scream for him in front of someone who had eyes on you/dating you/married to you/getting married to you while a clone of his holds them captive- will kill them after he’s done showing the person who you belong to.

- [ ] Will have you cock warm him while he’s doing important things (WK kingly duties etc). Doesn’t care if others are in the room but they better not LOOK at you. That’s the rule.

- [ ] Will use you until he’s done - especially if you fight him. But he’s going to make sure you crave him and his touch/pleasure.

- [ ] Rough with you, you will have his marks on your body at all times be it scratch’s or bites and bruises. (Might make a special mark - maybe his initials)

- [ ] Going to keep you open and wet for him for when he needs you. Loves you cock drunk and mindless. Uses you as stress relief too after a hard day/fight

- [ ] Would absolutely baby trap you.

- [ ] If he wanted to really play with you, he’d capture you, fuck you, and release you with his cum still filling you (he’s going to be near by don’t worry). He will do this many times until all you can dream about is him/his touch. (Yes he could just keep you but he wants to mentally mess with you - make you crave the pleasure he forces on you)

- [ ] In that same category- will spike your food/drink and will fuck you into his shape. You’ll wake thinking you had some erotic dream but in reality he had genuinely claimed you.

- [ ] Will stalk the fuck out of you, you’ll catch him out of the corner of your eye because he WANTS you to. Wants to smell your fear a little because it excites him.

- [ ] Will make you walk around with his cum on your skin/In you - you WILL smell like his.

- [ ] Will get you anything you need but takes his payment from your body/pleasure. (Publicly too)

- [ ] You will wear the things he picks for you, some for his eyes only. Be it body jewelry or sexy items. When you’re in public you wear his favorite colors on you or the things he adorns you with.

- [ ] Fighting him is useless and only eggs him on - push him too much though and he WILL assert his power over you. You won’t be moving anywhere and will feel his ‘punishment’

- [ ] Mentally/emotionally will make it so you are so far gone on him and dependent on him you don’t even consider escaping anymore.

- [ ] Because while he’s dominant and forceful he adds enough sweetness to keep you addicted to him. Yes, he will take care of you and your basic needs and even provide good after care. You are his mate at the end of the day.

- [ ] You sleep with him every night - snug against his body. (If he hasn’t stolen you away he’s definitely sneaking into your bed)

- [ ] Regularly uses his clones not only to monitor you but to keep you ready for him. Might play punishment games if you cum while being touched by a clone.

- [ ] If someone tries to help you escape you’re going to be given their head as a trophy.

- [ ] If someone tries to take you from him, he’s going to level mountains.

- [ ] Might test you to see if you will try to escape….punishments as consequences.

- [ ] Will protect you with everything he has and any children you give him.

- [ ] Depending on the situation is suspicious if you returning affection - but if he sees it’s genuine he’s going to be smug as fuck and also very vulnerable about it but won’t show that.

[sweetiecutie]

AHHHH I NEED MORE KEEGAN IN MY LIFE PLEASE could you write some Keegan h/c?

Pairing: Keegan P Russ x fem! Reader

Warnings: just general stuff, language, bad driving, NSFW under the cut, mdni, spit kink

A/n: it’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing😌 Keegan is such a bad bitch, he deserves more attention

• Starting off - I’m pretty sure that Keegan would want a civil partner; someone not related to military and actually as far as possible from all the war stuff. First of all, it’s to avoid having constant fear of losing you on the battlefield - it’s a highly dangerous job, sometimes coming out alive is not only a matter of skills, but also pure luck. Secondly, the amount of trauma and emotional damage Keegan carries is more than enough for two people - he needs someone grounded and, well, more stable, someone who will be able to give him a piece of blissful domestic life, faraway from all the constant war Keegan lives in.

• Always referring to you as his girl in conversations with other people or when introducing you to someone new. “That’s Y/n - my girl” “That’s for my girl, she likes pink” “My girl doesn’t like the smell of smoke so I’m trying to quit”. It’s also a way of showing everyone that you’re his - letting others know from the very beginning that you’re taken and no one better try anything with his precious girl, otherwise a few bones will be broken.

• Gives off annoying older brother vibes. He’ll always playfully nag you, and it’ll only become worse once you start dating. Placing stuff on the highest shelves just to watch you struggle to get it yourself, drawing some silly doodles on your notes, messing with your makeup that you spent nearly an hour organising neatly, punching your favourite plushie just to get a rise out of you. And of course, constant bickering! “Keegan, can you pass me that book?” - “Fuck no” *passes the book*. “Keegan, I want some sushi” - “Well shit, what am I supposed to do about that?” *already placing an order online on his phone*

• Another amazing driver here. Keegan has horrible road rage, hitting the car horn aggressively, yelling most intricate insults out the window at whoever that happened to piss him off. I also have a feeling the he drives really fast and reckless, teasing you whenever you ask him to go slower - so you better always buckle up. And yes, he definitely got in a few minor accidents - scratching or leaving indents on other car’s bumper.

NSFW here~*•.

• And while we’re speaking of driving - just imagine giving him a sloppy noisy head while being stuck in a long traffic. Keegan is seething with hot anger, rolling his eyes on other drivers, lack of nicotine adding to his distress. And here’s a sweet lovely you trying your best to make Keegan feel at least a tad bit better, soothing his booming annoyance with your silky tongue swirling around throbbing shaft, cheeks hollowing to provide stronger suction, allowing Keegan to set the pace. And it seemed to work wonders on him - his nape against the headrest of driver’s seat, pretty blue eyes half lidded, staring at the car ceiling, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, feeling your throat wrapped around his cock.

• Oh, how nasty he is. Biggest spit kink ever - ordering to open your mouth nice and wide just to spit a thick globe of saliva in it, then closing your jaw and making sure that you swallow it. Will gladly let you spit in his mouth as well; loooves messy wet kisses - either during make out session or after you gave him head, slurping up your spit mixed with his cum from your lips and chin. Very often uses his spit as lube, or telling you to spit in his palm before spreading it all over his needy leaking cock, plunging it deep inside your warmth.

• A horndog. You never have to ask him if he’s in a right mood because yes, he is. He is always in the mood to fuck. Now, he always lets you know that it’s totally fine if you say no - Keegan will never pressure or guilt trap you into any kind of intimacy, no means no. You can always cuddle up together or do something fun like cooking, dancing or simply dorking around. But if your sexdrive happens to match his - oh boy, I’m sorry for your neighbours. Let’s just say - there’s hardly any surface in your flat that you didn’t fuck on.

• It’s nothing new, but this mug is cocky. Like, I don’t think he has unimaginably big dick - not small for sure, but not huge as well; but the way he works with it - a chef’s kiss. Keegan just knows how to angle his hips to massage that one spot within you, how you like your clit to be played with, how he quickly discovers and memorises all the sweetest spots of your body. “Aw, cumming already? I barely touched you, does it feel this good?” - he’d purr, curling three of his long fingers inside of your needy cunny, thumb flicking swollen clit while hot mouth sucks on perked up nipples.

• Daddy kink? Daddy kink😏

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love<3

[millyh23]

Selective Standards

Alessia Russo x Reader

word count:

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Y/N walked into the changing room, expecting to find the usual post-training chaos—water bottles here, jerseys there, a few bits of kit scattered on the benches. But this was on another level. A mess of epic proportions.

Protein shake bottles lay on the floor, half-empty, with their lids off, spilling sticky liquid across the floor. An assortment of clothes, some still in training gear and others discarded in the middle of the room, was strewn about, creating an obstacle course. Half-open snack wrappers crinkled underfoot, and towels were abandoned haphazardly across the benches. It looked like someone had taken a whirlwind tour of the room and forgotten to clean up after themselves.

Y/N froze in the doorway, mouth agape.

“What the hell happened in here?” Y/N muttered, stepping into the chaos, surveying the damage. Her hands flew to her hips as she turned to face the team. “Who even leaves a place like this? This is so disrespectful. We’re a team, we’re supposed to take care of our space. Whoever made this mess should be reprimanded. They should pay a fine or be suspended for a game. This is ridiculous.”

The room fell silent. A few players exchanged awkward glances, and some even stifled small chuckles, glancing at each other. It wasn’t every day they saw Y/N go off like this. Normally cool-headed, Y/N’s frustration seemed to be bubbling over today.

Leah, who had just come out of the showers, raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but trying to hold back her laughter. “Y/N… I don’t think it’s that deep.”

“It’s that deep, Leah,” Y/N snapped, gesturing to the mess. “Look at this. It’s disrespectful to all of us. You know how hard we work. This—” She pointed to an empty water bottle rolling across the floor, “—this is a disaster.”

Katie, who was sitting on the bench nearby, grinned mischievously. “You know, you could always just pick it up yourself, right?”

“No,” Y/N huffed, her eyes scanning the room, clearly riled up. “Someone needs to be held accountable. This isn’t just a little accident. It’s a pattern of neglect.”

Just then, the door opened, and Alessia Russo walked in, her attention quickly drawn to the group as she noticed them all looking toward her. She hadn’t noticed the mess yet.

Y/N shot a pointed glance toward the protein shake bottle, still leaking a sticky mess onto the floor. “Whoever did this needs to clean it up—immediately. No exceptions.”

Leah couldn’t help but smile, taking a slow step toward Y/N. “Well, you might want to turn around, because—”

Before she could finish, Y/N’s voice rang out again, sharp and direct. “And I’m serious. If this happens again, I don’t care if it’s—”

“Uh, Y/N,” Leah interrupted, a grin tugging at her lips as she stepped to the side. “It’s Alessia’s mess.”

Y/N froze mid-sentence, her eyes wide. She turned slowly to see Alessia, who was now staring at the group, completely unaware of the mess she had left behind. Her eyes darted from teammate to teammate, catching their expressions. And then her gaze fell on the aftermath she’d left in her rush.

“Oh no,” Y/N muttered, her face turning bright red. She hadn’t even noticed that Alessia was the culprit when she was ranting. “I didn’t—uh… I didn’t realize it was—”

Katie raised an eyebrow, giving Y/N an amused look. “You sure? You were just about to have someone suspended for this.”

Y/N, caught in the moment, quickly tried to backtrack, her voice dropping an octave as she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. “Well, I mean, we all get caught up in things, right? Just a little… oversight. Nothing major. It’s fine. Not a big deal. Right, Alessia?”

Alessia, who had been listening with an amused grin, walked over and casually tossed her gym bag on the bench. “Yeah, I was running late for media stuff,” she said with a shrug. “Guess I left a trail behind me. Sorry about that.”

Y/N, now visibly flustered, waved her hand dismissively, trying to cover up her earlier outburst. “No, no, it’s… it’s really not that serious. Just, maybe next time, a little more care when you’re in a rush? That’s all. Right, guys?” She forced a smile, but it was clear she was embarrassed.

Katie burst out laughing, slapping her hands on the bench. “Oh, you were so ready to fine someone for this mess, and now you’re backtracking?”

“I was just—” Y/N started, but she didn’t have the energy to continue. “I guess I got a little carried away. It’s Alessia. I’ll let it slide… just this once.”

Alessia, who had clearly caught the shift in Y/N’s tone, grinned and casually threw an arm around her shoulders. “It’s all good, babe. Thanks for being so understanding. I’ll do better next time.”

Y/N shot a playful glare at her, trying to regain her composure. “Just… don’t make me do a whole speech next time. I’ll have to give you a fine or something.”

The entire team erupted into laughter as Y/N’s serious demeanor quickly crumbled into a sheepish smile. Alessia leaned in close, still grinning. “You’re the best, Y/N. Maybe I’ll get you to help me clean up next time?”

“Yeah, sure,” Y/N muttered with a roll of her eyes, “I’ll bring the fine book.”

And with that, the room returned to its usual chaos—but this time, everyone was a little lighter, the tension having dissolved in a fit of laughter.

---

The team was starting to form more bad habits. Every day, without fail, more and more players were coming late to training. It wasn’t anything too serious at first—just a few minutes here and there—but Y/N, always one to stick to the rules and maintain discipline, was getting fed up.

It had been the third day in a row that several players were running through the gates minutes after the scheduled start time. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, that’s it,” Y/N muttered to herself, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as the last player jogged onto the field. “Enough is enough.”

She marched up to the front, her voice firm and clear as she addressed the entire team. “I’m done with this. We’re all professionals here, and we can’t keep letting people stroll in whenever they feel like it. From now on, anyone who’s late will be fined. A minute late? A minute’s fine. You’re five minutes late? Five minutes’ worth of fines.”

The room went silent, the rest of the players exchanging nervous glances. They knew Y/N wasn’t messing around.

Katie, ever the troublemaker, leaned in and whispered to Leah, “She’s not serious, is she?”

“Oh, she’s dead serious,” Leah replied, eyes widening as she watched Y/N cross her arms and glare at the group. “You’ve seen her like this before.”

Y/N’s eyes scanned the room, locking onto the players who had been late. “This isn’t school, people. You all know better. You’re adults. You can show up on time. It’s disrespectful to your teammates, and we need to take this seriously.” She turned to face a particularly late-looking Kyra. “Five minutes late today. That’s a fiver.”

Kyra rolled her eyes but said nothing, too tired of the back-and-forth to argue. Y/N then turned her eyes to the next culprit, Alessia, who had just jogged in, breathless from her sprint to the field.

“Alessia, you’re late again!” Y/N snapped, hands on her hips, but before Alessia could even start to apologize, Y/N’s tone softened. “No, no. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. It’s just—training was probably a little too early for you today. I’ll take care of the fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Alessia blinked, surprised by the sudden change in tone. “Really? You’ll take care of it?”

“Of course,” Y/N replied, shaking her head, her voice calming. “You don’t need the added stress. We’ll make sure your fine is covered. You can count on me.”

Y/N then glared back at the others. “But for everyone else? You’d better pay up. You’ve all been warned.”

Leah gave her a pointed look as Y/N turned her attention to the rest of the group. “If anyone else is late, there’s no excuse. I mean it. We’re not running a daycare here.”

The session went on, but Y/N couldn’t help but notice how the other players seemed to keep a little distance from her. They knew Y/N meant business, and with her new fine system, she wasn’t about to let anyone get away with being tardy.

The next few days passed, and the fines kept racking up. By the end of the week, Y/N had nearly filled a small notebook with the fines from late arrivals, most of which had come from the usual suspects: Katie, Beth, and a few others who just didn’t seem to care. But when Alessia was late yet again, Y/N was quick to brush it off.

“Alessia, don’t stress. I’ve got this,” she’d say, her voice soft and reassuring, even as she filled in the fine for her late arrival.

The others watched this dynamic unfold. The fines were getting hefty—very hefty—but every time Alessia was late, Y/N would simply wave it off and mutter that it was okay. They all found it strange, but there was something about the way Y/N spoke to Alessia that made her seem… untouchable, in a way.

By the end of the month, Y/N had paid off all of Alessia’s fines, covering the hundreds of euros in late fees. Every time she brought it up, Alessia would try to refuse.

“You really don’t need to do that, Y/N,” Alessia said, a hint of guilt in her voice.

“I’ve got it covered,” Y/N replied with a smile, brushing off Alessia’s concern. “It’s not a big deal.”

But even as she said it, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder why she was doing it. Why did she always soften when it came to Alessia? Why was she willing to put up with the fines when everyone else had to pay up without a second thought?

One evening, as they sat together after training, Y/N gave Alessia a sideways glance. “You know, if you just stopped being late, I wouldn’t have to pay these fines for you.”

Alessia looked at her with a half-smirk. “Maybe I’m just testing how far you’ll go.”

Y/N chuckled softly, rolling her eyes. “Well, consider this the last time, okay? I’m not made of money, and I’m not paying your fines forever.”

Alessia laughed, leaning in close. “I know. But I appreciate it, Y/N. More than you know.”

Y/N just smiled, knowing full well that no matter how many fines Alessia racked up, she’d always be the one to take care of it. She didn’t mind. Not when it was Alessia.

It was one of those days where the team was a little too playful for their own good, and Katie had a mischievous gleam in her eye. She leaned in towards Alessia, a sly grin creeping across her face as she whispered her idea.

“Why don't you come in an hour late to training? You know, just to test if Y/N will actually follow through with paying your fine,” Katie suggested, practically vibrating with excitement.

Alessia raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious? You really think she’d pay a £200 fine?”

Katie’s grin only grew wider. “Y/N loves you. She’s a softie for you, trust me. She’ll pay without batting an eye.”

Alessia hesitated, but then the thought of seeing how far Y/N would go for her made her heart flutter. “Alright, fine. But if she gets mad, I’m blaming you.”

Katie winked. “Deal.”

The next day, as the team finished their warm-ups and got into their drills, Alessia sneaked in, only to join the sprints, breathless and looking sheepish as she entered the pitch.

Y/N, who had been keeping track of everyone’s arrival times as usual, immediately shot her a glare. “Alessia, you’re late,” she said, arms crossed and voice stern.

The team watched with baited breath, knowing full well that this was going to be interesting. Y/N pulled out her notebook, jotting down the fine.

“1 hour late, that’s £200,” she said, her voice sharp as she turned to the rest of the team. “You all know the rules. Late is late.”

Alessia bit her lip, trying to keep a straight face as she watched Y/N turn back to her, ready to pay the fine. Without a single word of complaint, Y/N pulled out her wallet, counted out the money, and handed it to the coach.

“Here you go,” Y/N said, her voice oddly calm.

Katie couldn’t contain her smirk. “Wow, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

Y/N barely even looked at Katie. She turned back to Alessia, her face softening. “You don’t need to worry about this,” she said gently. “It’s not your fault. I’ll take care of it.”

Without thinking, Y/N reached forward and cupped Alessia’s cheek, leaning in for a kiss, soft and sweet, making the rest of the team collectively roll their eyes. When they pulled apart, Y/N smiled, her eyes full of affection.

The rest of the team, including Leah, watched in stunned silence, unsure of what to say. Katie, trying to keep a straight face, let out a dramatic gasp. “I can’t believe you actually paid it, Y/N! You’re such a sucker.”

Leah, smirking, chimed in, “Looks like Alessia’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a soft chuckle. “I’m not a sucker. I’m just making sure my girlfriend isn't stressed over something silly like fines.”

Katie raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?"

Alessia leaned in, trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips. “You really didn’t have to do that, you know. I was just testing you…”

Y/N turned to the group, suddenly serious. “You shouldn’t have pressured poor Alessia into that,” she said, her voice taking on a more reprimanding tone. “If you all have issues, you come to me. We don’t put her in situations like that. You’ve all got to start acting your age. We’re supposed to be grown, not schoolkids that mess with each other for fun.”

The rest of the team exchanged glances, bored for Y/N's thousandth lecture, and nodded in acknowledgment.

Leah nudged Katie, both of them smirking. “I think Y/N’s getting soft,” Leah teased. “Guess the only one who can make her pay £2000 without a fight is Alessia.”

Katie laughed. “I’m just amazed. She didn’t even hesitate! It’s like she has a weakness for her. She's like kryptonite”

Y/N gave them a mock glare, but her voice had a playful edge. “Alright, alright, I get it. You two are clearly jealous because I didn’t pay your fines.”

Katie threw her hands up in defeat. “I mean, I would have asked, but I’m pretty sure you’re whipped for Alessia.”

Leah chuckled. “I think she just wants to see if she can get away with being that spoiled.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, turning back to Alessia, who was clearly enjoying the teasing. She gave her a smile, though. “You’re lucky you’re cute. And you know I’d do anything for you.”

Alessia grinned, her heart swelling with affection. “I know. I won’t make a habit of it. I swear.”

Y/N chuckled softly, her protective nature not fully letting go, but a warmth in her chest that reminded her just how much she cared for Alessia.

The rest of the team couldn’t help but laugh at the playful dynamic between the two, and even though they were teasing Y/N, there was a sense of warmth in the air. It was clear they were a team in more ways than one. Even if some of them had to be teased a little for their soft moments, they all knew Y/N had their backs—just as much as she had Alessia’s.

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

The End

[xmtposts]

i’ve heard little whispers of nerdification with abdl stuff and i literally can’t stop thinking about it, so here’s a guide to making me your perfect diaper dependent nerd boyfriend!

- start off slow, as a gift offer to pay for braces! i’ve always had an embarrassing gap tooth, plus i’ll just look so much cuter with a straight smile! of course tell the orthodontist to make them nice and tight (so i’m a whiny mess), give me pretty color bands (the most obvious and obnoxious colors), and be sure they send me home with plenty of painkillers (to make me more pliable and easier to bend to your will 💕).

- while i’m doped up and easy to influence, start some necessary hypnosis to give me all the most embarrassing helpful habits! watch as i become more clumsy, messy, and overall reliant on you. take away some of that unbridled confidence by conditioning in a stutter to go with that metal mouthed lisp! or even assure me that hygiene isn’t that important, and watch all my acne come back and hair fall greasy and lifeless. and if it’s in your tastes, you can even choose to instill some little piggy behaviors in me, insuring that i can’t keep my hand out of the cookie jar and have no interest in the gym anymore, and watch me ballon into your perfect chubby little porker!

- but that’s not enough is it? of course not! start slipping strong diuretics and laxatives into my food, timing them so i have accidents at the most embarrassing times. after filling my pants at the park, the mall, even out with my friends, you coax me back into diapers. but of course not the sleek or discreet ones, that’s no fun! you find the thickest, crinkliest, bright baby patterned diapers and always make sure to pair them with at least two stuffers, since i’m such a potty pants clearly! it’s hard to hide your laugher as you watch me waddle out the door one day, diaper bulge incredibly obvious and my shirt stuck in the back, showing my cartoon animal printed diaper band!

- at this point, i’m a mess. almost too embarrassed to leave the house, i’m completely under your control, it’s the perfect time for any final touches you want to make! switching out all my clothes for childish striped leggings and frumpy cargo shorts, getting rid of those icky contacts for the thickest dumbest looking glasses you could find, maybe even deciding my lisp isn’t bad enough with braces and adding on 24/7 headgear that forces me to mouth breathe and drool all over myself!

by the time you’re done with me, im the least desirable person on earth. between my lisp and stutter, it’s faster if you do the talking for me, but you always insist i order for the table at restaurants so the waiters can get a kick out of my babyish speech. i’m barely aware of the stares and gawks people give me as a waddle around bow legged in too tight leggings accentuating my full diaper and too tiny cartoon character top that shows off my pale baby fat tummy. i’m perfect, because how could i ever leave you? i’m the lamest loser ever, and it’s all thanks to you (;

[devilstruly]

Hey so how do you think Jason Todd and Dick grayson would deal with their love who’s a ray of sunshine (not hyper. More like has an innocence about them where they’re just experiencing life for the first time. They just get happy over the little things in life: Like their dress has pockets or they see a stray cat or dog down an alley and they’ve left their boyfriend side to say hi to it and give it some food they somehow always have hiding in their clothes. Even tight fitted dressed).. and living a pretty good life s/o finding out the men’s secret identity and the men are like “are you sure you’re ok with this?” Or Jason’s like “I got a lot of baggage”. And s/o’s very calm and not their usual ray of sunshine self “ This is a lot better than other stuff I’ve been through in the past. I’m good with it”. Or to Jason “what? You think you’re the only one with baggage?” The men didn’t know this, but s/o grew up in the roughest part of gotham in a poor family? So they’ve seen a lot of bad things and bad things have happened to them? They’re ok with their bf doing vigilante work cuz if vigilantes were around more often back then, bad stuff that happened to s/o probably wouldn’t of happened. Also let him know that, “if you get injured, you can always come to me to help you”?

hi omg !! thanks sm for the ask <3 now i've never written the sunshine trope myself but i'll try my best here

i think when it comes to dick grayson he would go about revealing his identity very carefully and very thoughtfully, lest he scares you off. mans has probably been stressing about it for weeks. but when he finally drops the bomb and you're just there, all nonchalant, he's utterly confused. nightwing.exe has stopped working.

'w-what do you mean okay? that's it?!'

'i've seen worse. you're good.'

'WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?'

cue a lot of questions. you're in for a long night.

now with jason todd it happens as an accident. he was planning to tell you who he was. obviously. at some point of course. not now, while he's sneaking back into his apartment after patrol to find you sitting on his couch watching a movie. his first issue is why you aren't fazed by fucking Red Hood sneaking into your boyfriend's apartment. he's kinda concerned if he's being honest.

'uh- okay, might as well get this over with.' he sighs, taking his helmet off and bracing himself for you to either yell or just get up and leave.

but you don't, instead your eyes rake over his form, noticing the deep cut on his side.

'that needs stitches.'

redhood.exe has stopped working. 'wh- huh?!?'

'sit down, i'll be right back.' you get up from the couch and gesture for him to take your place while you go grab the first-aid kit you know he keeps in the bathroom.

while you're stitching him up and he's still trying to grasp what the actual fuck is going on he uses the opportunity to distract himself from the pain by talking. you talk a little about your background but it's mainly just him trying to make sure you know how fucked up he is and that he's bad for you and a killer, yada yada yada.

'you've told me all of that before, jay. i'm not going anywhere.'

his heart swells, but he refuses to cry in this state so he deflects like usual.

'how the fuck do you know how to stitch a wound?'

[xxblairexxss]

Duty

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x pregnant!reader

Theme : Angst / fluff

It reached 3.4k before I could even do the climax so I’m just gonna drop this one first or else I’m gonna rush the next part and ended up ruining everything.

Google result! Let’s hope this is accurate. I spent hours on website trying to find this. PROM is a shorten for premature rupture of membranes!

Requested!

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles was ecstatically happy to start the new season with the brightest hope because of how he ended the previous one as the second place in the World Driver Championship, even more elated when this was his first time starting the new season as a new father-to-be but it was undeniable that Charles had been struggling since the first race.

He seemed to be developed a new trait as well as upgraded some of his old ones ever since your pregnancy. Your first pregnancy. He had asked you to stop accompanying him to races which resulted to a fight, and you claimed that he didn’t need your support anymore. He eventually gave in but with conditions where you needed to stay by his side all the time or if he was occupied, he would force Joris to stay with you. When you got into your second trimester, he had again, asked you to to stop attending the races but you still wanted to, so he gave in again but only allowed you to attend the qualifying and race day so you started missing his practice day, which caused the media to question about your absence and Charles had to reassure everyone how you had been doing fine, but he had to be stricter on you to avoid any unwanted accidents. When you entered your third trimester, he didn’t allow you to attend any of the races at all and this time, he didn’t give in, no matter what.

Even so, he never allowed you to be left alone. You would either be at his parent’s house, your parents’ house, or he would bring either one to your house.

No matter how much you reassured him.

“Charles, can I just stay here?” Your voice trailed off, already feeling gloomy from what he was gonna say. You were sitting on the bed, looking at your husband going in and out of the room packing his stuffs before his flight in a few hours.

“What was it, baby?” He walked back into the room, placing one of his perfume into the small luggage bag and cocked his brow, waiting for you to repeat what he had missed.

“I don’t want to go to my parents house this weekend.”

He heaved a sigh of defeat and it made you regret for bringing up the topic. “You know I’m doing this for your safety, right? Honey, I won’t be here for a week, that’s long enough. What if something happened?”

“I know but I’m not due for another month.”

He took your hand in his, thumb softly grazing on your knuckles. “You are already 35 weeks. I can’t take the risk of leaving you alone. The doctor told us you need to be careful as they suspected PROM, no?”

“But–“ You jutted your bottom lips, looking away when your husband tilted his head away, eyes squeezing shut when you tried to argue even more.

“But what, honey? Go on, I’m listening.”

“Y/F/N wanted to come over with her little girls this weekend. I just wanted to do a little movie night and bake some cookies with them.” You felt Charles moved his shirts that you were folding in front of you away and skittered closer, seeing how you refused to look at him now.

“Can I see your pretty face?”

He beamed, feeling his heart caught the eternity’s mist as you looked up to him with teary eyes. “My crybaby.” He had realised since you entered your second trimester, your hormones seemed to be ramped up and you had been in a constant mood swings and crying spells, crying at almost everything. He had told his mom, worried about it as he wasn’t sure why. Even after he talked to you a lot about it and she said it was normal, but it sure took him a while to get used to it.

“Charles..” You hit on his arm and he chuckled.

“Alright, alright. Just this one time, okay? Make sure to pick up my call and let me know if it hurts anywhere.”

“I love you!” You exclaimed and threw your arms around his waist, head leaning against his chest.

“I’m serious, Y/N. Let me know if anything happens. Don’t make me regret my decision. Promise?”

��Promise!”

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Few days passed, Charles got the podium for the second time in a row and you had been eagerly waiting for him to walk through the door. It was a shame you weren’t there to hug him as soon as he hopped off the fast car but he’d made sure you didn’t feel left alone as he called you right after, even mentioned you and his unborn daughter in his interviews.

“Congratulations! Two podiums in a row!” You threw you arms in the air and hopped, stopping when Charles held your waist.

“Careful, love.” He brushed his lips on your forehead, letting it linger against your skin. “I missed you, and you too, little one.” He bended down and stroked on your middle.

“I wanted to bake you muffins last night but I fell asleep because your child won’t stop kicking me.”

He placed his arm around waist, pulling you close as much as he could, another hand on the side of your belly. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. We can bake muffins together now that I’m home?”

“Are you tired?”

He pulled a funny expression and nodded impatiently. “I am worn out, baby. Total knocked out.”

“Can you buy me the matcha ice cream?”

“I bought you three tubs before I left, didn’t I?”

“I–“ You were going to tell him your excuse but ended up sucking your lips into a thin line, pulling away to pinch your husband on his arm. “Don’t look at me like that! I’m gonna cry!”

He winced and recoiled, hand leaving your belly to stroke on his waist where you just pinched. “Ow! What did I do?”

“You looked at me as if it was impossible for someone to finish three tubs of ice cream in one week! See? You are doing it again! I hate you.”

“What do you want me to do?” His mouth widen in disbelief and brought his palm up to cover his eyes. “Is this okay now?”

“Better.” You giggled and went back hugging his waist. You definitely missed hugging him without your belling getting in the way but it won’t be that long now. “Can you still get me the ice cream?”

“Of course, love. I’ll be right back.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles has been home for a week and day by day, you could see how he got progressively quite. He didn’t ignore you, didn’t raise his voice at you, he never did. He was still the husband that you wished every woman would have but he had been looking as if he was keeping a lot to himself.

“Charles?” You heard him hummed in response, his face is buried against your neck, his arm draped on your belly as you played with his hair. “Are you okay?”

“Why did you ask?”

“I feel like you are worrying about something. Talk to me, honey. What’s wrong?” He went silenced, his hand left your belly as he pulled away.

“I don’t know, Y/N. I’m just scared? No– worried. No– I’m not sure. Probably both.”

You placed your under your round middle as you turned, scooted facing your husband who looked like he was in a deep dejection. “Was it because of this weekend?”

“Yeah. I just can’t afford to disappoint them again, love.”

“How do you know you were gonna disappoint them?” You placed your hand on his neck, thumb brushing against his stubble. “Hm?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like it? It’s not the first time, honey.”

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself. It’s not even the race day yet but you are already assuming the worst. Give yourself a chance to prove yourself. I know my husband very well and I know he can ace everything thrown in his face.”

His lips turned into an upwards curve as he bended down to kiss your belly, hand patted on the side of it. “Mommy really knows how to cheer daddy up, doesn’t she? How I wish you could come too, baby.”

“We can come! Right, baby?” You replied, your hand strokes on the other side of your middle, voice filled with a hint of hope.

“No. I didn’t actually mean it, honey. It was hypothetical.” He straighten his body, and you saw the frown he always made whenever you told him you wanted to come to any races.

“But I really want to go..”

“You know what my answer will be, don’t you? I’m not gonna change it this time, Y/N.”

“This could be my last time attending your race before she comes. I don’t want to stay in the house. It’s getting boring and I have nothing to do.” You had been waiting for him to look at you as perhaps, there could be a tiny expectation where he would change his mind but he didn’t. “You’ll never understand.” You pulled your hand away, standing up to leave the living room.

“Baby,” He called out and of course, he got ignored. He knew it and wasn’t even expecting for you to reply. “Hear me out first. Y/N–“ You slammed the door and locked it before he could pushed it back. “Okay, locking the door is not it, honey.” He knocked and waited, but he didn’t hear anything. “Y/N, open the door.” Nothing. “Baby, please.” Still nothing. “Open the door or I’m gonna eat your ice cream. I’m serious.”

“You are mean.” He bit his lips, trying to hold his smile when you opened the door a second after, glaring at him with your arms folded.

“Oh? I’m the mean one when you just slammed the door and locked your husband out of the room? Baby, can you at least hear what I was gonna say?”

“I know what you’re gonna say. You don’t have to say it to my face.” You rolled your eyes and walked back to the bed.

“I thought you know how to read my mind. I was gonna ask you to be my date this Sunday but I think I got rejected.” He was going to stand up, pretending to be walking away but you gripped on his arm.

“Oh my god! Really? Can I really go to the race?”

“Last one before our little girl arrives.”

He gave in, yet again.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You had been feeling cramps ever since the weekend arrived. Your back had been hurting since your third trimester but it hurt even more these days, especially when you laid down. You could barely fall asleep even when you tried to sleep sitting against the headboard so you always woke up feeling all worn out which caused you to lose appetite. Even your head hurt due to the lack of sleep.

Charles had realised you were somewhat different but every time he asked you, you would just brush it off, saying that it was normal for pregnant women to feel like this nearly the end of the pregnancy. He realised you didn’t ask him to buy anything that you craved for which you used to every single day. You had been really quite. You only took a bite out of your meal only when he caught you but every time he asked if you were fine, you would always say yes, telling him to stop worrying. He had been contemplating if he could skip practice day, in any way possible but you got so mad at him for “being silly”.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You were sitting in front of your dressing table, contemplating about which scent you should go with when your belly went tight, as if going through another cramp and it made you winced in pain. Your body slightly bended towards your middle.

“Honey? Are you done?”

“Y– yeah, I’m almost done.”

“Hey.” Charles peeked his head and strode to where you were sitting, crouching down so he could see your face. “I know I’ve been asking you this for like the million times but are you really fine? You are worrying me, love. You don’t have to come if you are not feeling well.”

“I am fine! I am just excited. I promise.”

His hand went to your round belly and softly rubbed on it. “I saw your face scrunched up earlier. Is she giving you a hard time?”

“She just has been kicking non stop. She’s probably too excited to see his daddy wins the race.” You placed your hand on his and cackled.

“Oh, I’m not sure about that, baby.”

“You can, honey! We’ll be rooting for you!”

“If that’s what my girls wished for then I guess I could make it comes true. P5 to P1 doesn’t sound hard, does it? We need to go. Are you all set?” He stood up straight and pinched on your cheek. “You look beautiful, baby.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile from the compliments. “Liar. Can you help me up?” You stretched out your arms for him to pull you up.

“Ready? 1, 2, 3!” His body was slightly slanted to give you enough space when you stood up. “I’m not lying. My wife is so beautiful I almost mistook her as an angel.”

“Whatever.”

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They were expecting rain to come since it had been raining during both practice and qualifying round but it felt like the sun was just a hand fist away from your head the moment you stepped out of the car. The media had to make it worse since this was your first appearance in the paddock in your last semester where you looked undeniably pregnant now. They had to block your way when you just wanted to sit down as fast as you can, even after Charles had rejected every request. His arm never left your waist. He even shook his head to people who asked to interview him regarding the race, telling them that he would come back after he sent you to the Ferrari’s hospitality.

“Here’s your drink. Oh, and I also got you some chocolates because it’s hot and you always needed something sweet. Some vitamins which I’m not sure if you ever need them but, you know, just in case. And– “

“Charles, I’m fine. Go and do your duty as a driver, honey.” You held his hand that was halted in the air as he was searching for something else he could give you.

“Are you sure? You were trembling earlier, Y/N.”

“It was just the sun. I’m fine now. See?” You cupped his cheeks and giggled when he shivered, feeling your cold hands against his skin. “Go! Don’t make them wait.”

“I’ll come back to you before I have to get into the car. Don’t be in the garage. Stay in here. It’s more comfortable, alright? I love you.” He leaned in to kiss you and pecked on your shirt covered belly. “And you too, little one. Please be nice on mommy.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You were lying through your teeth but Charles didn’t catch any of it. He was probably too nervous for the race as he could usually read you like an open book. Your cramps had been going on recurrently, your belly is hard to touch and it felt heavier. The steps taken from your car to the paddock made you out of breath, your legs were shaking from having to walk through the cramps but your husband knew nothing about any of it. You felt like the weather and the tension from earlier might had something to do with it. You weren’t going to tell him because he had enough on his plate and though you knew he didn’t mind it at all, you didn’t want him to do anything hasty on the race day. He had told you multiple times how he could skip the practice and even the qualifying round if you just told him something was wrong and if he knew about what you had been feeling these past few days, he wouldn’t even be attending this race and you couldn’t afford that. He was a Ferrari driver before he was your husband. This should be his priority, not you. It’s Monaco, he had always been the centre in every Monaco GP, what would the fans say if he, the only Monegasque in the grid was missing on the important day.

You weren’t sure why you had been feeling this way. Your due date was 3 weeks away. That was surely long enough. You even googled if it was possible for women to get Braxton hicks in their 37 weeks into the pregnancy but most of the answers sent you to shiver that you refused to read in detail and tried to hold it off, until the race, at the very least.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles couldn’t see you before he got into the car. He had been pushing his schedule back when he chose to stay with you in the hospitality earlier so he had no more gap before he race. He was now in the grid walk, fireproofs suit on as he was putting on the balaclava, the white-coloured open mask while one of his race assistant, Xavi was holding his helmet. “Where’s Joris?”

“He’s there. Joris!”

Joris came running from the side of the grid and Charles turned to look at him. “Please keep an eye on Y/N for me. I have a feeling she’s not telling me something.”

“Got it. You don’t have to worry about her.”

“If, God forbid, something happened to her during the race, please let me know. At any time of the race.” He then took the helmet from Xavi and gripped on Joris’s shoulder as he was about to walk away. “Promise me, Joris. Let me know. No matter what position I am.”

“Nothing will happen to her, Charles. I’ll be by her side. Just focus on your race.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Ow..” You winced, steps came to a halt as you placed your hand on the wall to hold yourself. The cramp became more and more intense you could barely stand up any longer than 5 minutes. Even a walk to the bathroom took you long enough as you had to keep on stopping or your legs would just give away. “Not too hard, baby..”

“Y/N, you okay?” Joris came and your face instantly became more at ease to hide the pain.

“I’m fine, Joris. I just feel a little hot.” He offered you a hand and as soon as you pulled your hand from the wall, your whole body became wobbly and Joris immediately caught you in his arms.

“Woah, woah, slow down. Let’s walk you back to the lounge area, alright? Just lean on me.”

You felt a chill as you started sweating abnormally though you were in an air-conditioned area. Soon as you took a step forward, everything became a blur and you lost control of yourself, giving in completely.

“Y/N!” You felt Joris’s body against yours as you fell to the ground. Your eyes were heavy that it felt like it required a huge amount of energy to force it opened and you let yourself capiltulated to the darkness.

Joris immediately called for a medic and he was told that you needed to be taken to the emergency room right away, making him even more overwrought as it sounded more serious than he thought. “Can you wait until I informed her husband first?”

“Sir, we are suspecting internal emergency. We can’t wait. Leave us her emergency contact number and we’ll call them to direct to the hospital.”

Internal emergency. Joris could barely think straight and became more perturbed. One because Charles had given him the responsibility to look over you and he thought it was just his friend being overprotective. Second because you had been more like a family, like a little sister to him so he didn’t want anything bad happened to you. He had given Charles’s parent a call, telling Pascale to call your parents as well before he barged into the garage. He couldn’t cross the pit lane due to safety precaution but the group of people who had direct access to the drivers’ radio were all sitting across the pit lane. He ended up grabbing a random engineer to help him passed the words. “Tell them to inform Charles that his wife had been brought to the emergency room.”

He then saw the engineer walked and whispered to the person in charge and felt a little relief because now all he had to do is wait for Charles so he could go to the hospital.

But he didn’t know none of his words were being conveyed.

“Charles,”

Silenced.

“Guys, I’m listening.”

“No, nothing. Just wanted to inform that we are sticking to plan A.”

“Copy that.”

Joris waited, and waited. He was so anxious he couldn’t even stand still. He saw Charles on the final turn and thought to himself that he was gonna came into the pit lane any second,

but he didn’t. His car passed the starting line again as he carried onto the next lap.

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @aundercover @love4lando @shinrjj

if your usernames were crossed meaning I can’t tag you 😭 let me know if you would like to be removed or added to the taglist! or if I missed anyone!

[fluffyomorashii]

I live across from a bar grill type restaurant so decided to walk over to have some drinks and bar food since I would be alone and something to do! It’s raining slightly but I just put on a hoodie and black leggings and jog across the street. No big deal! (|||⇁_⇁)

A little over an hour and a half passes and I’m two alcoholic drinks in (and they weren’t afraid to pack these drinks with Hella alcohol!!) I was well tipsy now and had to pee 30 mins ago, but seeing that home was literally a minute walk away I decided I’d like to pee in the comfort in my own home lol.

I pay and leave exiting the door and stop.. it’s not raining anymore it’s more like the fucking sea was falling from the sky, the wind was making it worse and so cold.. immediately all the water and the sudden cold temperature aggressively reminded me I really really had to pee.. I braced myself and put my hands in my hoodie pocket so stuff in between my legs, waiting for intense wave to pass

Once I had control I put my hood on and immediately started running across the parking lot running up to the sidewalk and immediately I’m soakedddd the rain was coming down HARD I could barely even see!! I had to stop at the sidewalk to wait for the cars to stop and it felt like my bladder was spiking filling up times 10.. I was I was shifting side to side my thighs pressed together, when finally, the red light came on, and the cars stopped.

I fucking flew across that road and passed the first house, and then there was my house right there!! Ignoring going the long way up the driveway I cut through the yard mud and water splashing everywhereee. I ran up the stairs to the small little square porch we have at our front door that thankfully had a small square roof over it. I took only a second to breathe then went right to action-

Scrambled to take off my muddy soaked shoes as I quickly reached into my pocket to yank out my keys- yanking my phone out accidentally and it fell to the ground bouncing, almost falling off the porch. I quickly cursed and crouched down to grab it, when I found myself awkwardly crossing my legs as I crouched pushing the heel of my foot into my crotch as I felt an intense pressure in my bladder.. (¬////¬)

I could tell I peed a tiny bit because I felt warm while the rest of me was cold, and that feeling didn’t help.. all the being drunk, rain splashing around me, being soaked, the cold giving me intense bladder warnings I couldn’t deal-.. I realized ..oh my God I can’t…I’m-..I’m gonna pee….

I shot back up and immediately a sudden fast pee stream noisily released, splattering quickly between my legs, mixing with the rain sound.. I was panicked by how fast the emergency to accident happened but also let out a shaky sigh as the intense bladder warnings slowly faded as my legs became warmer and warmer.

I looked up, and even though the rain was so thick I’m sure no one could see anything, I nervously turned away to face the door, and looked down watching the rapidly growing puddle slide off the porch and down the stairs.. when I was just left with a few trickles down my legs I slowly reached for my keys and unlock the door. Thankful I had black leggings and thankful the rain was so intense the Wet spot was too hard to see anyway! (っ- ‸ - ς)

[zeevawyte]

Ok so, this is so far outside my usual stuff it’s insane, but this literally won't leave my brain and I don't know if I have time to write it so-

RadioApple fic idea under the cut:

TW: blood, mentions of cannibalism (it's Alastor, duh), semi-unsafe dom/sub (no actual sex), sub drops

Starts out your normal "stop interfering with my relationship with my daughter & you can have a snack whenever you want" kinda deal, with Alastor taking full advantage of the fact that he's got the most powerful being in hell at his mercy. Dude has a serious power trip the first time, & between that and the taste is hooked immediately.

And of course Luci isn't exactly complaining. Other than the occasional jumpscare via shadow, it hasn't been too bad. Kind of enjoyable actually, not that he'd ever admit that to the demon's face. And it's not like he hasn't been tied up or held down before either.

But then during one of their ‘meetings’ he ends up going into sub space on accident… and it keeps happening.

This wouldn't be a problem except Alastor (for obvious reasons) has literally zero information/knowledge about that sort of thing. And, being the dramatic asshole that he is, enjoys getting the last word and leaving without a backwards glance. Which means he's not there when Luci drops.

Hard.

But it's fine! He's fine! He's the King of Hell, he doesn't need some sinner to help him deal with the consequences of an arrangement he proposed in the first place. He's totally fine on his own.

Except he's not.

He is very much not fine, and it starts to show. It gets so bad that one day Charlie actually asks him if he’s ok mid-conversation.

Enter Angel Dust.

Now, by this point Angel’s like 98% sure the two powerhouses are going at it. Alastor has been in a good mood for months now (coinciding suspiciously with the two of them not being at each other’s throats all the time - at least in public) & he’s seen Luci coming out of a room straightening his coat and hat on one of the upper floors. Not to mention the down-right flirty undertones to any barbs they shoot back and forth.

Husk agrees that something is going on but heavily doubts it’s what Angel thinks.

Determined to prove that he’s right, Angel starts wandering the upper floors or heading up just as Alastor heads down (subtly, he’s not an idiot). Anyway, he’s up there one day being nosy when he hears a crash from one of the rooms. He goes in only to find Lucifer on the floor, having tripped over a side table and knocked over a lamp, disheveled and absolutely shaking.

He recognizes what’s happening almost immediately (fuck you very much Val) and gathers the little king up onto the couch, helping him calm down until he doesn’t look like he’s going to either spontaneously start sobbing or throw up on the rug.

Luci is understandably embarrassed and tries to offer him a favor for his help, but Angel waves him off saying he’s been there & that Luci doesn’t owe him anything.

The next day when Lucifer is off doing something else, Angel grabs Alastor and all but drags him into a side room.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you and short king, and frankly it’s none’a my business-”

“No, it isn’t. And if that really is all you wanted to speak with me about-”

“Shut up! I’m not jokin’ alright? I’m bein’ 100% serious. You’re fucking up big time, and I’m pretty sure you don’t even know it. So if you don’t want this whole thing to end in a big fuckin’ mess you need to listen to me.”

Cue a hilariously awkward conversation where an unusually serious Angel explains dom/sub dynamics and the effects/consequences therein to an incredibly-uncomfortable-but-desperately-not-showing-it Alastor.

It ends with something along the lines of

"And look, I don't know if you actually care about the guy or if it’s just about gettin’ your kicks, but honestly? It doesn't matter. You've got your whole gentleman thing right? Openin' doors for the ladies and shit?" *pokes him in the chest* "Well as a gentleman, you've dropped the fuckin' ball. Only self-centered dicks leave their sub to drop alone."

Now if there’s one thing Alastor will not abide, it’s a loss of manners. Being told he’s been unknowingly committing a social faux pas gets under his skin immediately. It itches at him. To the point that his smile almost slips. More than once.

He needs to fix it. As soon as possible.

He’s visibly twitchy the rest of the day.

Husk corners Angel to ask what the hell he said to Al, but only gets a vague, noncommittal answer about letting him know about some information he was missing.

And the next time he and Lucifer have a ‘meeting,’ Alastor stays.

[ithinkabouttzu]

Txt’s reaction to being your 1st boyfriend! ｡･:*˚:✧｡

a/n: I’m so sorry for such a long wait guys! I hope you all enjoy soooo much 💗💗

Genre: Fluff; romance

Warnings: Innuendos

Description: The members of txt reacting to being your FIRST ever boyfriend!

Txt Masterlist

Yeonjun: He’s fully committed on being the first, last, and best boyfriend you ever will have. He’s more than welcome to do all those cute relationship stuff with you that you’ve never gotten to do before. He’s taking you out on all kinds of dates. We’re talking aquariums, the county fair, the movies, the bowling alley, any kind of place you want to go to? name it and he’ll take you there.

Soobin: When you tell him that he’s your first ever boyfriend, he feels a good deal of pressure. All he wants to do is make you the happiest person in the world. He wants to make the best impression on you, so that in some worst case scenario where you and him don’t end up together forever, you know exactly how a guy should treat you.

Beomgyu: He gets wayyyy too excited to know that he is your first ever boyfriend. “does that mean I’m your first kiss too?” As much as he may tease, overall he takes his job VERY seriously. The first time you guys ever go out for a date, he’s there waiting for you with your favorite flowers, looking the absolute CUTEST in his sundays best. He feels extra courteous because he is your first boyfriend.

Taehyun: He feels just as nervous as you are. He hasn’t had much relationship experience, along with you so he doesn’t feel too worried about messing something up or doing something wrong by accident because you both are very new when it comes to romance. I feel like he’d be the romantic type to serenade you with lots of mushy songs he came up with last minute. This guy is a true gentleman when it comes to y’all’s relationship .

Huening Kai: He honestly feels relieved when you tell him that he is your first ever boyfriend. Like Taehyun, he is also very very new at relationship stuff and isn’t the total best with traditional dating culture, but he will always try his best for you. (He is also the sweetest gentleman you’ll ever meet who will always be waiting for you at your door with lots of flowers and gifts every time you hangout)

Thank you for staying and reading! :)) If you enjoyed, make sure to leave a like or reblog if you’d like!!

[paddockbunny]

Crowded

Summary : Inspired by the totally mad crowds outside of the drivers hotel in Budapest. What happens when it goes wrong? Rating : 16+ Pairing : Lando Norris x Reader Word Count : 2,247 ONE SHOT Trigger Warnings : 16+, small bit of language, there is nothing dirty in this BUT there is mention of injury, crowd crushing, accident and hospitals just so you are aware! Images : curated from Pintrest Authors Note: I’m not sure if this is my best work but I wanted to get it up during the GP weekend. Also, this is not shaming any fans but I think we can all agree that the scenes outside of the drivers hotels this weekend is a little extreme

The sun was setting as you and Lando made your way back to the hotel. It had been a tough day for him. The McLaren wasn’t playing ball around the boiling hot Budapest circuit and he had only managed to get P12 for Sundays race. Disappointed and frustrated he had barely said a word since getting into the drivers seat and you knew better than to try engage him in any type of conversation when he was so in his head. You had better ways of making him forget about the day - and none of them required either of you wearing clothes.

“Fuck!” Lando drew out an exasperated sigh as he turned on to the street where the hotel was. Throngs of people were crowded, no rammed, into every available space. They were 7-8 lines deep. 10-11 in some places. It was worse than the previous two days when it was at least limited to right outside of the hotel but tonight, it sheer amount of people was unbelievable. Barriers had to be erected to hold them all back and while Lando slowly drove up to where he was being directed too they began to scream and holler loudly at the car. “Lando, is this….” You glanced out of your passenger side window to the sea of faces “safe?” you finished.

“I’m sure it will be.” He was calm about the whole thing. He didn’t seem phased in the slightest which made you wonder why you were suddenly feeling a little panicked. Your hands hand gone clammy and your pulse had quickened. A tight feeling grew in your throat and your lungs felt like they were anxiously holding on to a breath that you couldn’t expel. Lando parked the car. You heard the decibels from the crowd outside increase as he cut the engine. “I’m a little worried.” You finally explained to him. You had been mindful of his mindset since Quali. You knew he would be in a dejected, disappointed mood and he wouldn’t want you creating imaginary problems. “I can’t not sign some stuff.” He shrugged but gave you a sympathetic look. You understood that and you understood how all this came along with his job but it felt to you to be chaotic and crazed - and he hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet. “Just go inside. You go in and wait for me in the lobby.” He opened the door as a hint it was time to leave the safety of the vehicle.

The noise from cheering and screaming hit you as soon as you climbed out of the McLaren Lando had been given this weekend. Sure, the roar wasn’t for you - you knew how much fans disapproved of your relationship from all the hate you got on your social media - but you wondered if this was how it felt to be famous. To be a Harry Styles or a Taylor Swift. It was daunting and alien to you. There was no way you would ever get used to it like they did. Or in fact your boyfriend did. He was already at a barrier, signing shirts and caps for swooning fangirls. He smiled away as he turned and took quick selfies so they could remember their 20 seconds with him forever.

A security guard from the Ritz-Carlton came over to you and started guiding you around the car and toward the hotel. But in that moment you realised Lando had the room key. You knew his quick 10 minutes would probably be more like 30 and honestly, you just wanted to get out of view already. You weren’t shy but with all the stuff you had read about yourself from jealous fangirls you didn’t want to give them anymore fodder. So instead of going straight in you headed over toward your boyfriend. He was in the process of signing a cap when you whispered in his ear about the hotel room key.

And then it all happened in an instant. It happened so quickly you had zero idea what had even transpired. You felt a knock to the side of you as the security guard pushed up against you and then cool, hard metal being thrust against your other side. You felt sandwiched. That was the immediate sense. And then, it was replaced by pure and utter pain. The type of pain that ripped through your entire body. That consumed your whole physical being and captures every last fibre of your brain. You couldn’t think of anything other than trying to get a breath in and your eyes began to sting when you couldn’t, it was a struggle. The same security guard that had been guiding you to the hotel - who had just been hard up against you - was pulling you away. Your feet barely able to touch the floor as you wanted to let out a yell that you were in pain but nothing came out. The agony in your chest was nothing like you had ever felt before and as the doors of the hotel were pulled open, you knew something was wrong.

“Baby!” Lando’s panicked voice was the first thing you heard. His outstretched arms as he rushed to you the first you saw. “What” you struggled “happened?” “The barrier gave way. People started pushing from the back.” His hands were going all over you, checking you had no physical scrapes after you nearly tumbled to the floor. But while you might have looked on in the outside you knew from the fight going on while trying to breathe, things weren’t ok. “I” you started “can’t breathe.” He had to have seen the pained expression flooding your face as he immediately turned and looked for Jon.

As you were guided toward a more private area of reception - out of all the hundreds of prying eyes outside the glass facade of the hotel - you couldn’t think of anything but the sheer pain you were in. You felt tears form in your eyes a slowly trickle down your cheeks. You weren’t meaning to cry, it just hurt so badly that it was an automatic response. Jon, bless him, thought you were having a panic attack so proceeded to try calm you down with some breathing techniques but he stopped when Lando loudly exclaimed; “Mate, that’s not working. Look at her!” And his hand was in yours seconds later. “What do you need baby?” Lando’s hand caressed down the back of your head. You didn’t want to say it because you didn’t want to be a drama Queen, but the torture in your left side was insurmountable. “A doctor.”

It was THAT bad. And it was about to get worse.

Two hours later, you were sitting propped up in a hospital bed awaiting the results of an X-Ray. Lando hadn’t left your side, he held your hand tightly and raised your cup to let you sip on water. He kept blaming himself and he should have listened to your concerns about safety earlier. No matter now many times you assured him it was your choice to come get the room key he insisted he should have made sure you had it before leaving you and you wouldn’t have been lying in a hospital bed in Budapest if he hadn’t been so absentminded. Lando simply went round and round in circles. He blamed himself, blamed security and even blamed the fans at the back pushing those at the front to try and get to him while you (in your head) blamed yourself. You should have just waited for him in the lobby. You should have listened to your gut. But there was no use in blaming anyone or feeling bad about it now.

When the doctor finally came in to your private room at the end of the corridor, you were practically flying from the drugs they had given you. They took a while to kick in but now, you had never felt such damn euphoria in your life. In broken English the doctor took a deep breath in and finally stated; “Unfortunately, you have two broken rib.” Broken ribs. Two. That would explain why there was so much pain and why you couldn’t breathe. You hadn’t as much as broken a finger or a toe before so breaking a rib felt extreme, and yet you had broken two! As you tried to listen to the course of action and pain management plan the doctor was describing you could see Lando become more and more frustrated beside you. He only just about managed to keep composed while the doctor was in talking to you and unleashed when the door was finally closed again.

“Fuck!” He groaned under his breath. “What the fuck?!” You weren’t sure if he was pissed because of the broken ribs themselves, because you had to abstain from sex until you had healed properly, because of the fact you would have to go rest at home and not continue on Belgium (and potentially not go on the amazing summer holiday he had planned during the summer break), or how you had them broken in the first place. You watched Lando pull his phone out of his jeans pocket and you asked him what he was doing. “I’m not driving tomorrow. I’m calling Zak.” “Lando…” you sighed - as much as you actually could “No. I’m not leaving you in pain, alone, in a foreign country. This wouldn’t have happened if they didn’t allow the hotel to tell everyone where we were staying.” He held the phone to his ear and you couldn’t move to even attempt to get it away from him. You just had to watch as he awaited Zak to pick up his call.

Thankfully, it went to voicemail and he cancelled the call. He announced he would try him again in a few minutes. You could see the vein in his temple throbbing away. You had come to know as a signal when he was frustrated or angry with something - or when he was horny or about to come but those were certainly not the case right now - and you knew you had to talk him down. “I’m sorry, Lando.” “What for? It’s not your fault.” He sighed. “I know but you wanted me at the track tomorrow. I should have just went in and waited like you told me too.” You were hoping your tone was enough to convince him and talk him down. “Don’t. It wasn’t your fault, baby.” He rejoined you back on your bed. He had been sitting on the edge of it, holding your hand before the doctor had come in. And now, you were (ok pretending a little so his anger dispersed) feeling sorry for yourself he came back to the same position. He gently ran his hand down your cheek and you nuzzled against it like a little kitten feeling happy at the touch. “I feel so bad about summer too. You planned that amazing holiday and…” “Stop it. If I have to drive from Monaco to Italy then I will or I will book a bigger jet with a bed so you can lie down. You’re going.” He was very determined about you not missing out on the trip. There wasn’t a doubt you knew Lando would look after you - when he was around to do so - over the next few weeks. You knew he would snuggle with you, plump your pillows, help you get dressed and shower and also force you to eat his terrible cooking, unintentionally make you laugh and ask you when you were better a million times a day because he wanted to have sex.

“You have to drive tomorrow.” You told him, looking in those sage green eyes of his. “It’s not fair of the team.” “It’s a family emergency” He shrugged and his eyes (subconsciously) flickered down to your lips before he sighed (probably reminding himself there would be no sexy time for the forceable future). Seconds later Lando yielded. “I’m still going to call Zak. I want to let him know you were injured because of the crowds at the hotel.” It was fair enough “Maybe he can ask them to do something. Move them back, keep them away from the entrance. When they’re right there and gather like that you feel like you have to go to them, like you have to choice.”

“They just want to meet their hero. They just got overexcited.” You felt yourself sympathising with the fans in the crowd that had surged forward and resulted in you getting hurt. You had never been THAT big a fan of anyone before but you were sure that if you were it would be easy to get caught up in the moment.

“This is why I love you. Even when you are lying in hospital with two broken ribs you are still thinking about other people and can forgive them for hurting you” Lando smiled broadly. You had no reply to him. You just coyly smiled back. “C’mere….” He made a tilting movement with his head and you tried not to laugh because it hurt too much “I can’t.” Your words were met with a confused eyebrow lower from Lando before he realised “Oh right, sorry.” He chuckled and leaned in carefully so not to put any pressure against your chest. “I love you.” He whispered before his lips touched against yours. And when you were about to answer him and tell him you loved him more, you hesitated. You realised you were just happy to have his lips on yours and his kiss made you feel safe and secure.