#I’ve got more to say but I’m being told by my assistant that I’m being sent to hell early for drawing osmosis jones Yaoi:-/

[repugnantbeast]

Shoutout to the little gay people that live inside of bill Murray

[gingersnapwolves]

So today I want to talk about puberty blockers for transgender kids, because despite being cisgender, this is a subject I’m actually well-versed in. Specifically, I want to talk about how far backwards things have gone.

This story starts almost 20 years ago, and it’s kind of long, but I think it’s important to give you the full history. At the time, I was working as an administrative assistant for a pediatric endocrinologist in a red state. Not a deep deep red state like Alabama, we had a little bit of a purple trend, but still very much red. (I don’t want to say the state at the risk of doxxing myself.) And I took a phone call from a woman who said, “My son is transgender. Does your doctor do hormone therapy?”

I said, “Good question! Let me find out.”

I went into the back and found the doctor playing Solitaire on his computer and said, “Do you do hormone therapy for transgender kids?” It had literally never come up before. He had opened his practice there in the early 2000s. This was roughly 2006, and the first time someone asked. Without looking up from his game of Solitaire, the doctor said, “I’ve never done it before, but I know how it works, so sure.”

I got back on the phone and told the mom, who was overjoyed, and scheduled an appointment for her son. He was the first transgender child we treated with puberty blockers. But not, by far, the first child we treated with puberty blockers, period. Because puberty blockers are used very commonly for children with precocious puberty (early-onset puberty). I would say about twenty percent of the kids our doctor treated were for precocious puberty and were on puberty blockers. They have been well studied and are widely used, safe, and effective.

Well. It turned out, the doctor I worked for was the only doctor in the state who was willing to do this. And word spread pretty fast in the tight-knit community of ‘parents of transgender children in a red state’. We started seeing more kids. A better drug came out. We saw some kids who were at the age where they were past puberty, and prescribed them estrogen or testosterone. Our doctor became, I’m fairly sure, a small folk hero to this community. 

Insurance coverage was a struggle. I remember copying articles and pages out of the Endocrine Society Manual to submit with prior authorization requests for the medications. Insurance coverage was a struggle for a lot of what we did, though. Growth hormone for kids with severe idiopathic short stature. Insulin pumps, which weren’t as common at the time, and then continuous glucose monitoring, when that came out. Insurance struggles were just part and parcel of the job.

I remember vividly when CVS Caremark, a pharmaceutical management company, changed their criteria and included gender dysphoria as a covered diagnosis for puberty blockers. I thought they had put the option on the questionnaire to trigger an automatic denial. But no - it triggered an approval. Medicaid started to cover it. I got so good at getting approvals with my by then tidy packet of articles and documentation that I actually had people in other states calling me to see what I was submitting (the pharmaceutical rep gave them my number because they wanted more people on their drug, which, shady, but sure. He did ask me if it was okay first).

And here’s the key point of this story:

At no point, during any of this, did it ever even occur to any of us that we might have to worry about whether or not what we were doing was legal.

It just never even came up. It was the medically recommended treatment so we did it. And seeing what’s happening in the UK and certain states in America is both terrifying and genuinely shocking to me, as someone who did this for almost fifteen years, without ever even wondering about the legality of it.

The doctor retired some years ago, at which point there were two other doctors in the state who were willing to prescribe the medications for transgender kids. I truly think that he would still be working if nobody else had been willing to take those kids on as patients. He was, by the way, a white cisgender heterosexual Boomer. I remember when he was introduced to the concept of ‘genderfluid’ because one of our patients on HRT wanted to go off. He said ‘that’s so interesting!’ and immediately went to Google to learn more about it. 

I watched these kids transform. I saw them come into the office the first time, sometimes anxious and uncertain, sometimes sullen and angry. I saw them come in the subsequent times, once they were on hormone therapy, how they gradually became happy and confident in themselves. I saw the smiles on their faces when I gave them a gender marker letter for the DMV. I heard them cheer when I called to tell them I’d gotten HRT approved by insurance and we were calling in a prescription. It was honestly amazing and I will always consider the work I did in that red state with those kids to be something I am incredibly proud of. I was honored to be a part of it.

When I see all this transgender backlash, it’s horrifying, because it was well on the way to become standard and accepted treatment. Insurances started to cover it. Other doctors were learning to prescribe it. And now … it’s fucking illegal? Like what the actual fuck. We have gone so far backwards that it makes me want to cry. I don’t know how to stop this slide. But I wrote this so people would understand exactly how steep the slide is.

[wonderjanga]

Little Billy the Assistant

Zatanna was looking for the Champion. She’d wanted to ask for his help procuring an ingredient for a potion. All she expected was a short trip and maybe adventure. What she didn’t expect was running into a magically gifted orphan homeless looking kid.

Zatanna: *takes a detour a cramped street with a bunch of stalls selling stuff*

Billy: *ahead of her, heads to a gate leading to an alley, looks around for a bit before literally melting the lock off*

Zatanna: *sees this and stares*

Billy: *casts one more glance back before nearly feeling his soul leave his body at the sight of her looking at him*

He looked just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. Zatanna thought he was scared because he got caught by someone using magic in public. Billy was actually scared because she saw his civilian form do magic. Because what if she connected it back to Cap or something?!

Anyways, they made an uncomfortable amount of eye contact from across the street before Billy bolted into the alley. She tried to follow, but the crowd of the cramped street kept getting in her way, and by the time she got to the alley he was gone. Having lost him, she decided to ask Cap about the little boy about a week later when they were both at the Watchtower after he’d helped her find the ingredient she’d wanted. As for why it took a week for her to find him and ask for help? Billy had been avoiding her. Anyways…

Zatanna: “Cap, have you seen this little kid running around?”

Marvel: *immediately knew she was probably talking about him* “You’re going to have to be more specific than that Zatanna.”

Zatanna: “Okay… this little blue eyed black haired short little thing, maybe nine or 10-”

Marvel: *a little offended because he’s 12*

Zatanna: “-I saw him do magic the other day so he’s magical too. You know anything about him?”

Marvel: “Maybe? Why do you care about him?”

Zatanna: “Because recently I’ve had this idea of maybe having a little stage assistant.”

Marvel: “I thought you said you never wanted to share the spotlight or something?”

Zatanna: “That is true, but he was adorable! And I’m pretty sure he was also homeless.”

Marvel: *doesn’t know how to feel about being called adorable* “So…?”

Zatanna: “So he’d become my assistant and learn how to do his magic better since I doubt he has a teacher if I’m right about him being homeless. There’s also the added bonus of earning money which will benefit whether or not he actually is homeless.”

Marvel: *was prepared to say yes as soon as he heard money* “I’ll talk to him about it.”

Zatanna: “Oh? So you do know him.”

Marvel: “Maybe.”

Zatanna: “Maybe?”

Marvel: “Maybe. By the way, I’m pretty sure that kid you’re talking about has a job as a radio show host so he might not accept your offer if it conflicts with his schedule.”

Zatanna: “Radio show host? That’s a little retro, no? Buuuuuut… if he’s a show host, that at least means he has some pizzazz, so he could probably be good on stage too! As for the schedule thing, I mostly do night shows so he should be good.”

Billy mulled over this decision for many(two) days before deciding he’d accept her offer. As Cap, he told her to meet Billy at a popular street.

Billy: *waiting near a fountain and contemplating every decision he made up until his*

Zatanna: “Ah, it’s you! I assume Cap told you about my offer?”

Billy: “Yes? Could we uh… talk more about what the job would be like?”

Zatanna: “Of course! But first, let’s get some food in you.”

Billy: “What? Why?”

Zatanna: “Bud, you’re practically skin and bones.”

Billy: “Oh.” *sounds upset*

Zatanna: “Hey, hey, hey! No need to get upset! Try to think of the positives! I’m getting you food!”

They went to a little diner and ate while discussing all the things. What his job as an assistant would be, his pay, and so on.

Zatanna: “You sure know how to talk business, little guy.”

Billy: “Thank you…?” *sounds confused*

Zatanna: “I meant that in a good way.”

Billy: “Oh. Thanks then.” *smiles*

Zatanna: *just barely resists the urge to pinch his cheeks*

Zatanna stand by the fact that this kid was, in fact, incredibly adorable. Such a cutie honestly. And he’s such a sweetheart, too. After this meeting, they met up a couple more times, so Billy could rehearse being her assistant before he actually went on stage. Then the day came that he finally had to do his job…

Billy and Zatanna: *standing behind a curtain on stage*

Billy: “Uhm… Ms. Zatanna?”

Zatanna: “Yes?”

Billy: “What happens if I’m not good at being an assistant?”

Zatanna: *pauses to think* “Well, you’d stop, but I’d still continue trying to help you with your magic.”

Billy: “You mean that?” *just happy she wouldn’t immediately kick him to the curb*

Zatanna: “Of course.” *again has to resist pinching his cheeks*

The curtains soon opened after that conversation. The show must go on!

I’ll leave it up to you guys on whether he did good or not.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Special Surprise

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: Your husband surprises you with an unexpected invitiation but it might not be what it seems.

Character: Peter Parker

Day Eighteen of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt -a crackling fire sets the mood.

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Excuse me, miss, I have a reminder for you,” Friday’s voice startles you in the silence of the empty house. 

“Yes, Friday? I’ve already picked up the dry cleaning,” you say in resignation. 

“And I have crossed that off the list. Miss, this is a different reminder. You are to arrive at the cottage in three hours. Accounting for current traffic conditions, this means you will need to leave in the next hour.” 

Her voice seems to echo as you sit in confusion. You stare at your half-finished tea. Despite the heat of the porcelain against your hands, it offers little comfort. 

“Friday, I don’t recall setting this reminder,” you say at last. 

“Yes, miss. It was Mr. Stark.” 

You nod and your heart flips. For the first time in days, you feel... something. Your lips twitch and you sit up straight. Your shoulders hurt from the weight of the disappointment. Tony wouldn’t abandon you for Christmas. He just wouldn’t. You should’ve known he was pulling one over on you. 

You turn and hop down from the stool. You grab the tea and dump it down the sink. You wash and dry the mug, then put it away. It’s like your husband always says, how can you doubt him? 

“Miss, I have a list prepared to pack. Would you like my assistance?” 

“Please,” you accept. You’re so happy you can barely sort through your emotion to hear your own thoughts.  

Days you spent in dread of being alone. It’s the one thing you made Tony promise you when you said yes to his proposal. Don’t abandon you. You couldn’t take it. And when he told you about his mission abroad, you nearly broke down right there.  

He didn’t even apologise, just said that you knew who he was, that he had responsibilities. Yes, you knew, but he swore you were his priority. Well, he got you good. 

You follow Friday’s directive and pack your bag. You roll it down the hallway after you and let it bounce down the stairs after you. She informs you that the Lexus has a full tank and is waiting for you. Oh, Tony, you can never get anything without having to work for it a little. 

You can’t wait to see him. This month has been so lonely. You’ve barely spent a moment together as he only passes through on the way to his next briefing or appointment. 

You go into the garage and throw the bag in the trunk. Friday reminds you to bring a coat but you can’t help yourself. You tell her you’ll be just fine. The car has heat. 

You start the engine and Friday greets you from the speakers in the dash. She guides you through the gates and onto the mainway. You could bounce out of your seat but there’s no point getting so excited until you reach your destination. 

Oh Tony. Your heart is pumping as you grip the wheel tight. You have two hours at least ahead of you. Save your energy. 

By the time you come in site of the lake and around the dirt road, drifts of snow blowing through the trees, you’re yawning. You pull up as the windows haze with an amber glow. You can smell the smoke that plumes from the chimney. 

He outdid himself again. Ugh, you feel like such an asshole! You even thought of taking his gift back. Good thing it’s still in your closet. 

“Oh shoot!” You say aloud. 

“Miss, is there something the matter?” Friday asks. 

“Um, no, it’s fine,” you say as you shift into park, “Friday, thank you. Please go to standby.” 

“Initiating.” 

You shut off the engine and take a breath. Your chest is thrumming. Relief, excitement, happiness. You were starting to get worried. The thought of being alone through the holidays was devastating and then your mind raced to other things. Everyone knows about Tony’s reputation with women and those rumours hadn’t stopped since the wedding. 

You get out and grab your bag. It crunches over the thin sheet of snow as it mulches into the dirt. You drag it up the stairs and stop on the porch, looking down at the faint outline of footprints. He must have been here all day preparing. 

You let yourself in, hoping you might be able to surprise Tony in turn. You hear the fire crackling as the din flickers through the doorway and into the entryway. You ease the door shut and put your bag near the wall. You hang your jacket and take off your boots. 

You near the living room door and peek inside. He’s not there but you’re welcomed in nonetheless. On a fluffy rug in front of the fireplace, there’s two glasses and a bottle of water, along with a tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries. 

You come closer and feel the heat in your cheeks as you grin. It’s perfect. Usually, Tony’s grand gestures are... grand, but this is just quaint enough to be cute. It’s so much better than a trip to Paris or an expensive diamond necklace. 

“Happy Holiday,” the voice that startles you scares you for more than its timing. It’s not the one you expect. 

You reel to look at Peter as he watches you from near the doorway. You blanch in horror. Oh my gosh. Did you misunderstand? Is this a group thing? If it is, why the wine and chocolate? You’re lost. 

“Peter, what...” you look at the rug then shake your head as you frown at him. “Where’s Tony?” 

“In Munich, I think,” he shrugs casually. 

“Munich? But—Friday said he was expecting me. That he’s here?” 

“Did Friday say that?” He tilts his head. “Cause that’s not what I programmed her to say.” 

“Not--- you?” You sputter. “It was you? Why?” 

“Why not?” He slowly crosses the room towards you. 

You notice the differences in him. His hair is parted neatly, you think there might even be gel in it, and he wears a dark blue button up that exposes just the top of his muscled chest. You gulp as he stops right in front of you. 

“Tony left. He flew halfway across the world. During the happiest time of year,” he reaches for you and you wince as he caresses your cheek. Your eyes round as your confusion turns to horror. It makes no sense. “He married you then abandoned you.” 

“No, he’s just... busy.” You catch his hand and sniff. “Peter--” 

“What?” He twists from beneath your grasp and grips you instead. He’s stronger than you expect. “You’re going to tell me he loves you? That you love him? I know you’ve been crying into your pillow. I know before you came here, you were sitting alone in that empty house.” 

“Enough,” you plead weakly. You can’t disagree because he’s right, but you don’t want to hear it. 

“Do you want to know where he really is?” He breathes as he brings his other hand up to cradle your face. “Not that it matters. He’s not here. I am.” 

“Peter,” your lip quivers. Peter is Tony’s protege, he’s a friend, he’s not like that. He can’t be that to you. You’re married and he’s-- “Peter,” you repeat, “please.” 

“I hurt too,” his voice quavers as he holds you tight. You latch onto his wrists but he doesn’t budge. “I’ve been hurting. Alone. Like you.” He leans in until his lips are right in front of yours. You whimper as you stare back at him helplessly. “I can make it better. I can make you feel better.” 

Before you can say anything, his mouth is on yours. He smothers you as he squeezes your head between his hands. You suffocate in his thrall and slap your hands against his chest. You feel the sheer strength bound there and slide your touch down as you try to shove him off. You’re only reassured of his power as you do. 

“Mrs. Stark,” he parts as he keeps your skull clamped between his hands as he leans his forehead against yours,“I need you.” 

[sparkleofpizza]

The Alchemy

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Norris and Button traveling around the world together.

THE 2021 SEASON

PRE SEASON TESTING  Sakhir, Bahrein, 2021 

The McLaren office is silent as I scan over the list of reporters that will be present for the pre-season testing. This is my first time at a testing of Formula 1 and also my first day at the job as not an intern, but as a junior PR assistant. 

I’m nervous, again, just like I was the first day as an intern two years ago. Sophie isn’t here this week, she told me she wanted to see how I’d deal with this by myself, considering pre-season is supposed to be a bit more chill, as I only have to deal with the press and not the fans as well. 

As I finally finish jolting down the necessary notes, I get my phone and smooth down my skirt. I’m trying to appear more professional, wearing a skirt and a button down shirt. 

I walk out of McLaren and onto the eerily quiet paddock. I spot Lando talking to Daniel Ricciardo, his new teammate. The fellow brit waves me over and I smile walking to them. 

“Hey guys.” I smile, standing beside Lando who grins at me. 

Once again I have the same thought as I did earlier this week when I saw Lando for the first time since my five week vacation with my family. What the fuck. 

There was something different about him, I don’t know what it is, but he’s different. I don’t know if he changed something in his hair routine, or is trying out a new workout with his personal trainer. Or if he had an attitude change. There is something different about him, and I can’t get my heart to beat normally around him. 

The two McLaren drivers include me in their conversation and we carry on talking normally. There’s a new dynamic here, Daniel and Lando, the new duo, but they get along well and I can’t help but think that it’s because it’s humanly impossible to dislike Lando. He’s just so… Wow. 

“Mick!” I squeal in delight once I spot the new Haas driver walking side by side with Sebastian. 

Mick Shumacher smiles big once he sees me and I run to him, tackling him with a hug. He catches me with ease and spins me around before putting my feet back on the ground. 

“Oh, I’m so happy to see you here!” 

“I’m happy to see you here, as well!” He says back, matching grin on his face. 

Our eyes are wide and we look like hyperactive children. 

Sebastian sighs dramatically “Will we have to keep you both separated again?” 

Daniel smirks, piping into the conversation. 

“Again?”

Sebastian nods, looking as if he’s in pain. 

“They once set a car on fire.” 

Mick and I yell in protest. 

Daniel’s eyes are wide and Lando arches an eyebrow at me. 

“It was a plastic car.” I explain. 

“And someone who was supposed to be baby sitting us let us loose at the Red Bull garage” Mick complements. 

Daniel laughed delighted, throwing his head back and Lando cracks a small smile, which is extremely unsual of him.

“Hey, don’t put this on me.” Sebastian defends himself “She was an angel and you were an overall well behaved child. How would I know you’d corrupt her sweetness in such a short amount of time?” 

Mick grins as he shrugs “We weren’t that bad.” 

“Didn’t you call Kimi once because you two got drunk and he would be the nicest of the bunch to pick you up?” 

I smile at the memory “Yeah, we called Kimi and he took care of me and then yelled at Mick for being a bad influence.” 

Mick shudders as he recalls the night Kimi Raikonnen yelled at him as he scolded the Shumacher young boy. 

“Oh damn, the iceman went all out on you.” Daniel laughes again. 

This time Lando joins in on the laugher, but his eyes are focused on me and he has his arms crossed. 

Imola, Italy, 2021 

Lando has been a bit weird for past few weeks, ever since Bahrein, which is confusing. Pre season testing went great, the first race of the season he managed to get p4. Still, he was in a kind of bad mood. 

I’ve been watching the race intensely from the McLaren garage, once there are only four laps left, I go wait for him at parc fermé. Lando’s gonna get a podium, the first podium of the season and his second podium of his career. 

I try to keep a professional appearance as I stand at parc ferme. He parks his car at p3. He hasn’t taken off his helmet yet, but I can tell from his body language that he is buzzing with excitement. 

Lewis and Max clap him on the back and he runs to his team. I try to keep a smile at bay, I know there are lots of cameras on me right now, wanting to get the attention of the girl who only got the job because of her daddy. 

He takes off his helmet and balaclava after he weighs down and his eyes lock on me. 

Lando grins, placing his helmet at the table and takes large steps to where I am. Before I can even process he scoops me up in his arms and squishes my body. 

“I got p3.” He mumbled onto my neck. 

“You did. It was amazing.” I smile as I let him continue to squeeze me in a tight hug “Congratulations Lan.” 

“I did that.” He says, emphatically on the I. “You saw what I did, right? You were paying attention to me at the race, weren’t you?” 

I’m a bit confused at what he means by that, but nod. 

“Yes, of course, Lan.” 

“Good.” He mumbled, finally letting go of me, but his hands continued on my body “You’re here with me, Norris and Button traveling the world. No one else is part of that.” 

I nod, still not following what he means by that. Lando stares at me with those beautiful eyes and smiles. 

What is going on? 

Barcelona, Spain, 2021 

The Sainz family, as sweet and welcoming as ever, invited me and Lando to have dinner with them. It's Carlos' home race, but we all still keep our friendship up and his father loves to have us around, mostly Lando who shares his love for golf and I’m pretty sure became an honorary son to him. 

As we sit in a restaurant I take on the opportunity that Lando, who’s across from me, is engaged in a conversation with Caco, so I turn to Carlos. 

“Hey… have you also noticed that Lando has been acting a bit weird this year?” I ask him in a low tone so no one else but me, him and his girlfriend Isa can hear. 

Carlos’ tilt his head to the side a bit confused while Isa smiles fondly at me. 

“No, not really. He’s been normal.” 

Isa lightly taps his arm and they seem to have a silent conversation before Carlos turns to me again, a smile on his face and a glint in his eyes. 

“Oh, pequeñita. You haven’t noticed yet, have you?” 

“Notice what?” I question him, even more confused than before. 

“It’s because of Shumacher.” 

I frown “Mick? What does Mick have to do with Lando’s weird behavior?” 

Isa laughs softly as she leans closer to me. 

“You know what that means, he’s jealous of Mick.” 

I widened my eyes incredulously. 

“Jealous? But why?!” 

The couple share another glance before Carlos pats my head in a sweet but annoying gesture. 

I grow a bit annoyed with the fact that they won’t tell me why, but I decide to keep quiet and not say anything else. I’ll just have to figure it out on my own. 

Le Castellet, France, 2021 

Daniel flanked me through the paddock, a frown on his usual smiley face. He was pissed, I had never seen him pissed off before. 

I had arrived at the paddock with him, Lando had arrived earlier as he rode with Carlos. 

When we got out of the van there were fans waiting for Daniel and he stopped for pictures and autographs. There was a small child with their parents who gushed me over, as they had been Jenson Button’s fans. They asked for a picture and I couldn’t say no when they were so sweet. And that’s when the shit show went down. 

Some fans, overhearing our conversation, started to shout bad words at me. They called me an opportunist, said I didn’t deserve my job, they called me a whore, accused me of sleeping with the drivers so I’d keep my job. 

I was frozen in place, I didn’t know how to react. I had never been publicly hated before, it was already horrible to read those things online, but hearing them being shouted to my face, it was much much worse. 

Daniel snapped the minute he heard those words. He told the fans off, called security and took me inside the paddock and quickly to the McLaren hospitality. 

Lando was lounging on the couch when Daniel slammed the door open, he was on his feet the minute he saw our body language. 

“What happened?” He rushed over to me. When I didn’t say anything he turned to Daniel “What happened?” 

“Some fucking assholes saying fucking bullshit to her.” Daniel answered angrily. 

And it’s like things finally clicked in place and I realized what happened. The tears came out in waves. 

Lando was quick to wrap his arms around me, cradling my head on the crock of his neck. 

Daniel explained to him what the fans had been saying outside the paddock and Lando only held me tighter as I cried. 

“Come on, let’s go to my driver's room.” He mumbled once he realized some of the McLaren staff had been looking at us. “You’ll be much more comfortable there, love.” 

Still keeping me in his arms, he walked me to his driver's room, closing the door shut behind us. He guides me to the couch, sitting me in between his legs and still holding me close. 

Lando caressed my hair as he whispered reassuring words into my ear. 

“I’ll never be good enough for them.” I sob onto his neck “No matter what I do, I will never be able to prove myself. I should just give up… yeah, yeah… I’m gonna quit my job.” 

“Hey, no!” Lando says sternly. He pulls my face off his neck and cups it in his hands, forcing me to look into his eyes. “You’re not quitting. I’m not letting you give up, that’s not happening. Not now, not ever.” 

He wipes away my tears with his thumbs. 

“You are good enough. You’re more than good enough.” He tells me. “You have been doing an amazing job. You’re not here because of your father.” 

“But my dad helped me get this job.” I protest, still softly crying. 

“Yes, he did help you get the job and you never denied it, you’ve been vocal about getting this jump start.” He nods “But it wasn’t your dad that made you keep the job. It wasn’t your dad that made you get the promotion from intern to junior assistant. It was all you. It was your talent, your professionalism, your hard work. It was you, only you.” 

I stare at him, processing his words. 

“And those assholes that said those things to you? They are nothing but pathetic people who need to put others down to feel good about themselves. You don’t owe them anything. “ 

I nod slowly, my tears finally slowing down as he still has my face in between his hands. Lando smiles softly at me. 

“You are incredible, love, I wish you could see how amazing you are.” 

He leans in, placing a soft tender kiss on my forehead. I close my eyes, enjoining his affection. 

Lando lets go of my face, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as he leans back on the couch, making me lie on his chest. One of his hands rests on my hip, holding me close. 

I take a deep breath, snuggling against him and keeping my eyes closed. 

Silverstone, England, 2021 

“And then, he refuses to let her buy her own records!” I exclaim to Lando. “So she didn’t own her own music anymore. The music she worked her whole life on!” 

We were sitting at the McLaren hospitality together. It was way too hot outside at the Silverstone circuit so the two of us were sitting inside, where there was air conditioning, and we were having ice cream. 

“But, Taylor is really smart, and she decided to re-record her albums. So if there is a Taylor’s version after it it means she owns it. And she releases songs from the vault that are songs she wrote originally for that album but that got cut off.” 

Lando nods along to what I’m saying, a small smile on his lips. 

“And she’s releasing… purple Taylor’s version in November?” He asks me. 

I chuckle, “It’s red Taylor’s version.” 

“Oh, I see…” he hums “Why red?” 

“It’s her favorite color. Oh, I can’t wait to dress in full red on the release album date.” 

“That’s a no.” He shakes his head. 

I tilt my head to the side confused “What do you mean that’s a no?” 

“I’m not letting you dress in red! Red is Ferrari’s color and you're a McLaren girl.” 

I place a spoonful of chocolate ice cream in my mouth, letting it melt on my tongue before smiling mischievously at him. 

“Everybody is a Ferrari fan.” I tease him.

“No! No! You’re not quoting Sebastian Vettel to me!” He exclaims dramatically “I already lost my best friend to Ferrari, I can’t lose my girl too!” 

I felt the blush taking control of my cheeks when he called me his girl. 

“Not happening. Doesn’t she have a papaya album?” 

I shake my head, still a bit dazed with his words. 

“The closest she has to an orange tone is her evermore album that is more of a terracota.” 

Lando nods “That works for me, it’s better than a red themed one.” 

I giggle at him, poking his side.

“I can’t believe you’re mad over an album color theme.” 

He rolls his eyes, but he has an affectionate smile on his face. 

Magyórod, Hungry, 2021 

The knocking on the door startled me awake. I jump in bed, rubbing my eyes as I click on the screen of my phone. It’s midnight. I frown wondering who it could be at this time of night. 

I throw the blankets to the side as I pad quietly to the door. I open just a tiny bit to see who it is. 

Lando smiles big when he sees my face. I sigh in relief that it’s a familiar person, I open the door wider and there he is. Standing in a hoodie and sweatpants and holding a birthday cake. 

“Happy birthday!” He exclaims.

I widen my eyes, having completely forgotten it is my birthday. 

“Thank you, Lan!” I smile, stepping to the side to let him into the room. 

Lando walks to the table and places the cake there. I follow him close behind as I look at the beautifully decorated cake. In a cursive letter it’s written I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling 22! 

“Oh my god, you got me a Taylor Swift birthday cake!” 

Lando grins before wrapping his arms around me and kissing the top of my head. 

“Of course, how couldn’t I get a 22 birthday themed cake for the 22 year old girl who’s obsessed with Taylor Swift?” 

I smile as I squeeze him in the hug. 

“You’re the best of the best of the best!” I squeak happily. 

He smiles before kissing my temple.

“You only deserve the best.” 

We stayed hugging for a few more minutes, enjoying the hug before pulling away. I smile at him again, that’s all I do when I’m around him, and I grab his hand pulling him towards the bed. 

“Sleep over?” I ask softly as he sits together in the fluffy bed. 

“Yes.” He nods. 

Lando looks nervous for a moment and I get concerned I might have crossed a boundary of asking him to stay over, although it won’t be the first time we slept on the same bed. 

He sighs before putting his hand inside his hoodie pocket and pulling out a velvet box from inside of it. He smiles nervously before handing it to me. 

“Your birthday present.” He mumbled 

I gasp as I open the box. Inside of it there’s a beautiful gold necklace, the pendant is a heart with its outside full of tiny pink swarovskis. I take the delicate jewelry in my hands as I turn it around, on the back of the heart it’s written LN. 

“Lando…” I murmur 

“I-I wanted to have my… my initials on it so you ’d… so you’d always have me close to you.” He mumbled awkardly, his cheeks pink.

“It’s beautiful.” I smile “I love it. Thank you.” 

I turn back to him and pull my hair to the side “Can you put it on me, please?”

“Y-yeah.” 

Lando’s hands are a bit shaky as he places the necklace around my neck, his fingertips bringing goosebumps to my skin. 

I turn around again and his eyes fall to my neck and chest, where the heart necklace he gave me rests. He smiles proudly. 

“It looks beautiful on you.” He said, lifting his eyes to look at me “You’re beautiful.” 

I smile, leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek. 

“Thank you, Lan. I’m never taking this off.” 

He grins harder, leaning over and placing a kiss on my cheek as well. 

SUMMER BREAK 

Mallorca, Spain, 2021 

“Retirement huh?” I ask Kimi Raikkonen as we’re enjoining the beach in Mallorca 

It’s not usual for the Raikkonen family to join us during summer break, along with the Rosbergs and Vettels. Lewis used to come along with Roscoe but since his fallout with Nico he never joined us again - even after when I was seventeen and I called him crying asking him to join us because my dad was retiring and we should all spend one last summer together. He came, after Nico left. Those dramatic middle aged men. 

Kimi gives me a lazy smile, which also isn’t usual contrary to popular belief. He has his sunglasses on and is building a sandcastle with me and his two children, Robin and Rianna. 

“Eh, racing is a hobby and I got tired of it.” He shrugs “Now I’m more into dirty bike riding.” 

I chuckle, shaking my head “Somehow that sounds even worse than driving cars in circles.” 

Robin gives me a bright smile as he says “Don’ wowwy, I race car soon in Formula 1 and you cheer I!” 

I smile at him, ruffling his blonde hair “Of course, Rob! I wouldn’t dare to cheer for anyone else but you!” 

The little boy seems content as he goes back to building the sandcastle. Rianna actually grew bored of it a few minutes ago and is now busy with playing, tugging, at my hair. 

“Who’s he?” Kimi asks suddenly. 

“What?” I frown confused. 

“The boy who gave you the necklace.” 

“Oh.” I feel my cheeks warm up, truth to my words I have indeed been wearing the necklace Lando gave me all the time. “Lando gave me as a birthday gift.” 

I can see the furrow on Kimi’s eyebrows even if he’s wearing sunglasses. 

“That thing made a move on you?!” He exclaims “I’m running him off track when we’re back from summer break.” 

“What? No!” I shake my head “It’s just a necklace.” 

“A custom heart shaped necklace! It’s like he has a death wish or something.” He whips his head to the side “Sebastian! Come here! Now!” 

Seb, who was peacefully napping under the umbrella, sits startled at Kimi’s urgent call. He runs to us. 

“Norris made a move on her!” 

“What?” Sebastian asks scandalized “He did what? That little asshole!” 

“He didn’t do anything, Seb.” I explain as I point to my necklace “Kimi is just freaking out over the birthday gift Lando gave me.” 

Seb sits on the sand beside me, leaning closer to scan the necklace. 

“Yeah, I’m running him off track when the summer break is over.” 

“That’s what I said!” Kimi smiles big “We’re running him off track together so he doesn’t have anywhere to escape to.” 

Seb hums, nodding his head “That’s a good plan.” 

I look at them in exasperation “No one is running anyone off track.” 

They ignore me as they keep plotting. 

“Hey!” I snap at them and the two grown men finally look at me “Lando and I are just friends, stop this. And even if we weren’t, I’m 22, I’m allowed to date.” 

They share a look before laughing. 

“No, you’re not allowed to date.” Seb says, still chuckling “You’re funny, prinzessin.” 

I glare at them but they only continue to laugh at me. 

“You’re still the first pieni vauva, you always will be.” Kimi grins at me “And that means you’re only allowed to date when you’re… fifty.” 

“You’re both ridiculous.” I scoff but I have a small smile on my lips. 

Deep down I know they don’t actually mean it. But I have to keep an eye out so that they won’t threaten Lando or something like that. 

Monza, Italy, 2021 

“You’re here!” Lando yelled over the loud music, arms open wide and a drink in his hand. He was for sure already drunk. 

Daniel had won the Monza Grand Prix and Lando came just in second, it was the first time in his F1 career he had gotten p2. The team had decided to go out to celebrate at a club and some other drivers joined in - Max Verstappen, who had a terrible race and dnf, was there drinking the night away to celebrate his best friend and also drown his feelings. 

I stepped up to where Lando stood and smiled at him. 

“Yeah, sorry it took me too long.” I let him hug me “I couldn’t decide what to wear.” 

Lando grabbed my hand, twirling me around and whistling as my sparkly short blue dress shone under the club lights. 

“You certainly made a great choice.” He smirked at me “You look incredible.” 

I feel my cheeks grow warm. 

“Thank you.” 

I went over to the bar to order myself a drink and Lando followed me close behind. As I stood leaning over the bar to order my drink, I could feel his warm chest against my back. 

I stood up straight as I waited for the bartender, and I tilted my head to the side to look at Lando who was already looking down on me. 

He's wearing a simple white shirt and jeans, but he’s wearing his damn cap backwards. He always looks fucking good when he wears it backwards and it actually makes me weak in the knees seeing him so up close like this, his chest pressed against my back.

I’m snapped out of it when the bartender hands me my drink. I thank him before letting Lando lead me back to where the rest of our group is. I sip on my drink, letting the alcohol flow through me and relax me. 

Carlos is dancing with Charles while Max laughs at their terrible moves. Daniel is screaming the music as he hugs Zac and they both sway side to side. 

I can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous they look. 

Lando grins at me as he’s sitting on a stool, his left arm resting on top of the table. 

“Come here.” He says as he wiggles two of his fingers for me to get closer. 

When I’m at reach distance, he turns me around and pulls me to stand in between his legs. My back hits his chest and he wraps an arm around my waist, keeping me close. 

My breath hitches as he does this so effortlessly and as if it’s normal to hug me from behind. 

“They’re gonna be all over Instagram and Twitter tomorrow.” Lando whispers in my ear “They look ridiculous.” 

I chuckle “They really do.” I sip my drink “Aren’t you gonna join them?” 

I feel his laugh against the side of my face. 

“Are you calling me ridiculous?” He asks in feign hurt. 

I giggle, craning my neck a bit to the side so I can see his face. He has a smug smile on his lips. 

“You ridiculous? Never!” I giggle harder when he squeezes my waist in a playful warning “It’s just that usually you’re the life of the party and right now you’re sitting on a stool drinking peacefully.” 

Lando smiles, his dimples even more evident as the pulsing lights of the club shine on his face. 

“Can you blame me for wanting to stay here with the prettiest girl in the club?” 

Once again I feel my cheeks grow warm, but since I’ve already had drunk, my mind is a bit dazed so I smile at him. 

“Really? And where is this pretty girl?” I ask him in a tease. 

He smirks, squeezing my waist again and relishing in me squirming against his chest. 

“She’s right here… in my arms.” He mumbled before placing a long lasting kiss on my cheek. “The prettiest girl in the club.” He moves his lips a bit down and kisses my jaw “The prettiest girl I have ever seen.” 

I feel my heart flutter in my chest at his words and at his touch. I know he’s drunk and doesn’t mean any of it, but for a night I can pretend he does mean it, so I let him hold me close. 

Cidade do México, México, 2021 

“Oh, Mick…” I whisper as I hug him, softly rubbing his back “It’s okay… this kind of thing happens.” 

Mick huffs annoyed against my shoulder. He crashed into Yuki Tsnuoda during the race today and they both had a DNF. 

“You’re both rookies… that’s normal to happen.” 

I apparently said the wrong thing because the German boy lifted his head from my shoulder, our face millimeters apart as he glared at me. 

“Don’t say things that aren’t true.” He mumbled angrily “You’re not even a driver.” 

I narrowed my eyes at him “There’s no need to take out your frustration on me, I’m not the one who crashed your car.” 

We keep staring at each other, waiting for the other to back down. Eventually Mick sighs and goes back to burying his head on my shoulder as he continues to complain about it being unfair. 

I don’t say anything, knowing that if I do we will end up having a fight, just like it happened when we were younger and he crashed into Formula 3 - he kept whining about the crash that had been his own fault and I called him out on it. We didn’t speak for three weeks. 

“There you are!” Lando’s voice cut through the silence of one of the cool down rooms of the paddock. 

He gave Mick an unimpressed look and a glare. 

“Hi, Lan.” I smile at him. 

Ever since our little encounter at the club right after the Monza Grand Prix things between us have been different. He certainly kept touching me every chance he got and I wasn’t going to complain about it when in reality I loved to be wrapped in his arms. 

“I need you for something.” He said, and I tilt my head confused as I was off the clock “It’s important. Please.” 

“Sure.” I nod as Mick lifts his head from my shoulder and away from me “Take care, Mick.” 

The Shumacher boy looks at me with a slight pout of being deprived of comfort after his DNF, but didn’t say anything as Lando grabbed my hand and got me out of the cooldown room. 

We walked in silence for a moment before we entered the paddock’ parking garage. Lando opened the back door of the van and helped me up inside before sitting beside me and taping the driver on the shoulder to signal we’re ready to go. 

“So… burritos?” He asked. 

“What?” I blink at him 

“Do you want burritos for dinner? And some tacos? And nachos?” 

“I… you…” I’m at a loss of words for a moment as I catch up to what he’s done “You called me here to help you because you want dinner?” 

Lando nods, a sly smile on his face as he shifts his body on the back seat to take a better look at me. 

“Yes, I’m hungry. That’s why I need your help, to have dinner with me.” 

I can’t help but laugh at his audacity and then a memory comes up to my brain. Back in Spain, at the beginning of the season when I asked Carlos about Lando acting weird and Isa told me he was jealous. Jealous of Mick. 

“Why don’t you like Mick?” I ask, catching him off guard. 

Lando is momentarily stunned before he shakes his head. 

“I do not not like him.” 

“Yes, you do.” I say, a slight frown on my forehead “Whenever I’m with him you’re either glaring, snappy or you find excuses to drag me away.” 

He avoids my eyes for a moment, looking at the rooftop of the car before finally looking at me again. 

“It’s not that I don’t like him, it’s just that…” he trails off and is quiet again for a moment before he grumbles “He hogs all your attention.” 

“Oh God, he’s my childhood friend and I don’t even spend that much of a time with him.” 

“Do you like him?” He asks me. 

I look at him stunned “What?” 

Lando rolls his eyes “Do you like Shumacher? Like, do you have a crush on him or something?” 

“No. He’s my childhood friend.” I repeat my words from earlier. “Why?”

He shrugs and won’t look at me. 

I huff “Don’t do this, Lando.” 

He looks at me from the corner of his eyes “Don’t do what?” 

“You know very well what I’m talking about.” I cross my arms over my chest. 

He doesn’t say anything and neither do I. We both look at the opposite windows of the car, watching as Mexico City passes by in a blur. 

Doha, Qatar, 2021 

Lando and I weren’t talking. Well, mostly he wasn’t talking to me after Mexico. During the Brazilian Grand Prix and his 22nd birthday, I snuck into his hotel room and left this gift there. 

It was a small golden bracelet, it had his full name and race number on it. I left a sweet message alongside it, hoping he would get the hint of what I meant. I guess he did get the hint and didn’t like it because I woke up after the Brazilian Grand Prix to see Instagram and Twitter flooded with pictures of him making out with some girl at a club in São Paulo. 

And now I was the one not talking to him because he has been texting me and calling me non stop on the two week break in between races. 

I asked Sophie to take care of this scandal of him as I had never dealt something like that before and didn’t know where to start, so I just stayed on the sidelines watching her do her job and learning - in all honesty I just didn’t want to have to deal with him after seeing him kiss some random girl. 

I was heartbroken and I didn’t want to let anyone know about it because if Kimi or Seb caught wind of this… I might be sad, but I’d like to keep Lando alive. 

“Stop looking so sad…” Daniel pokes my arm “Those big sad eyes of yours… I can’t handle it.” 

We were sitting together as we were waiting for the press conference to begin. 

“I’m not sad.” I lied, “I’m just tired.” 

“C’mon!” He all but whines “We’ve been working together for almost a year now, I know you’re lying.” 

I don’t say anything so Daniel keeps talking “He’s sad too, you know.” 

I give him a side eyed glance as I mumble “I don’t know who is this he you’re referring to.” 

He sighs exasperated. 

“You should talk to him.” He says after a few minutes of silence “Lando misses you.” 

“No. I got his message loud and clear.” I shake my head, feeling the stupid tears gather in my eyes once again “I don’t need him to say it to my face. From now on we’re just… work colleagues.” 

“But you’re not just work colleagues, you’re way more than that and you know it. Also, you both are dumb asses who got this all wrong.” 

I turn to look at Daniel, the stubborn tears ready to spill out onto my cheeks. 

“How did I get it wrong, Daniel? I wrote him a note basically saying he’s the best thing that has ever happened in my life and that he meant so much more to me than just a friendship that blossomed because of work.” I say wobbly as I refused to let the tears roll down from my eyes “And he went out and kissed someone else. Things have never been more clear to me. I was just a fool and stupid.” 

Daniel says my name softly, but I shake my head. 

“The press conference is about to start, get in the room. I’ll be waiting for you here.” 

The Australian man sighs before nodding and following my instructions. He gives me one more look over the shoulder and I hate how he seems to pity me right now. 

Abu Dhabi, Saudi Arabia, 2021 

I didn’t go to the anual Abu Dhabi McLaren end of season party. Instead I went out to dinner with the Raikkonen family. 

Tonight has been Kimi’s last race of his Formula 1 career and I wanted to be there with him for his last night. I’ve known him my whole life, I was the flower girl at his wedding and I had been the first baby in his life. Right now being with family seems better. I need this. 

I decided not to be secretive about my motives of not being at the McLaren party as I posted a picture hugging Kimi on Instagram. 

Old man retired. Now that you’re out of f1 I can finally say it: you’ve always been my favorite. Love you Setä Kimi 🥺💙

After dinner, Sebastian drove me back to the hotel. He had been quiet most of the night and I can tell he is sad. All of his friends have retired, now it’s just him, Lewis and Fernando who have decided to come back. 

Once we’re out of the car and entering the elevator I turn to him. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to leave as well.” I whisper. 

He chuckles softly “I can’t say I’m not considering it. I’m getting old.” 

“No, you’re not old.” I shake my head. “You’re not even forty yet!” 

“But I’m not at my prime anymore. I only got one podium this year.” 

“That doesn’t mean anything.” I argued back. “You switched teams, you’re still getting used to the car! You can’t leave!” 

Suddenly it was like it had all hit me at once, the changes of it all. Kimi was leaving, he isn’t coming back next year. I’m not talking to Lando, who has been by my side since I started this job. And now Seb wants to leave as well. 

“Hey, prinzessin, no, please don’t cry.” 

I didn’t even notice the tears falling down my face as Sebastian hugged me tight. He caressed my hair in a soothing manner, like he used to do when I was a child. 

We were standing in the middle of the hallway of the hotel. He rocked me gently in his arms, shushing me. 

When I finally calmed down, Sebastian spoke again, his voice gentle. 

“You need to talk to Lando.” 

Before I could protest he continued to talk. “I know you’re not only crying because Kimi is leaving and I’m considering retirement. You need to talk to help, fix things between you two before it’s too late.” 

“There’s nothing to fix…” I whisper sadly “He… I… I really like him, Seb. But he doesn’t feel the same way.” 

“You’re kidding right?” He chuckled amused “That boy is head over heels for you.” 

I open my mouth, but once again he cuts me off “I know what he did. He told me.” 

“He… told you?” I question with a frown “And you’re still telling me to go talk to him?” 

Sebastian nodded “Yes. He was desperate, he misses you so much and doesn’t know what to do anymore to get you to talk to him. He’s… hopeless, but he likes you too.” 

When Sebastian left me in my hotel room, tucked into bed warm and safe with a kiss on the forehead, I kept replaying his words in my mind. 

Lando likes me. That sounds weird. But I also know Sebastian would never ever lie to me about something like that. 

I text Daniel asking him if Lando has already left the party. Daniel answers me with a yes in big bold letters and lots of exclamation marks. 

I pace back and forth in my hotel room before slipping on my shoes. I open the mini fridge and get to mini liquor bottles. I dart out of my room and soon enough I’m standing in front of Lando’s room. 

I take a deep breath before I knock on the door. 

There are a few moments of silence, I can hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears. I hear the lock turn and soon enough Lando is standing in front of me. His green eyes are rimmed red and he looks like he has been crying. 

He whispers my name, a slight tone of disbelief. 

“We didn’t toast to another year of Norris and Button traveling the world together.” I say. 

We stare at each other before he smiles and ushers me inside. 

[togrowoldinv]

The Bodyguard

Bodyguard!Natasha Romanoff x Actress!Reader

Natasha is tasked with being bodyguard to you and you two grow close. Maybe too close, but would she dare cross that line?

Note: I have finally written an installment of this au I’ve been thinking about. Let me know what y’all think! Enjoy!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

Natasha Romanoff is great at her job. In fact, she is so good that she has been in high demand in the bodyguard industry for years. She is tough, but her clients have nothing but good things to say about her.

Nat recently finished an assignment, and she is available. Your agent jumped on the opportunity to hire her to protect you. As an up-and-coming actress, you need a highly skilled security team. And you’re not exactly the easiest person to protect. You like to ditch your security whenever you can.

When she arrives at work, Natasha waits in her boss’s office to get her assignment. Fury walks in the door with a grin on his face. That’s never good, Nat thinks.

“How bad is it?” Nat asks.

Fury chuckles. “Have you heard of Y/n y/l/n?”

“The actress?”

“That’s the one,” Fury says. “Three movies in one year that reached number one at the box office.”

“And I bet she’s a pain in the ass,” Natasha says dryly. She crosses her arms. “You just told me that I was done covering actors.”

“Plans change, Romanoff. You’ll be meeting Miss y/l/n tomorrow at her New York penthouse.”

“Great,” Nat says sarcastically. “Next time I get to choose the job.”

“In your dreams,” Fury quips back.

Nat leaves his office and passes Carol and Valkyrie in the common area of the office. The two look suspicious as they straighten their clothes, but Nat is focused on finding out more about you.

“New assignment?” Valkyrie asks Nat.

“Yeah, an actress. Just my luck.”

“So, you got the Y/n y/l/n job? Impressive,” Carol says.

“Tell me that when the assignment is over,” Natasha replies. She walks to the door but stops short to turn around and say one last word to the woman. “Hey, we all know about you two by the way. It’s nice.”

Nat smirks and leaves the office. She spends the rest of the day googling you and trying to find out everything she can. Your portfolio is impressive, she must admit.

The next morning, Natasha wakes up early and goes for a run before getting ready to meet you. She wears a black suit and her beautiful red hair in a braid. The drive to your penthouse doesn’t take long.

You’re still in your pajamas when she arrives, but your assistant lets her in anyway. She takes a look around for a quick security check while she waits for you to emerge from your bedroom.

“Miss y/l/n, your new bodyguard is here,” your assistant, Kate, says.

Natasha comes into your view and your words catch in your throat. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen such a beautiful woman.

 “Oh, hi,” you say to her.

“Hello, Miss y/l/n,” she speaks, and your heart flutters. She holds out her hand for you to shake. “I’m Agent Romanoff.”

“Call me y/n,” you say as you shake her hand.

“I’d prefer to keep it professional, Miss y/l/n,” she says, trying to ignore that she finds you attractive.

“Right, okay.”

“I have a few rules,” Agent Romanoff begins. “Don’t try to lose me anywhere. It won’t work. Listen to me when I am trying to get you out of a situation or avoiding it all together.”

She pauses when you get out your phone to check a message. You reply and she waits to speak again.

“That was two rules,” you say. “Not a few.”

“Well, I assumed you stopped listening, so I stopped talking,” Nat says.

“I was listening.”

“Sure.”

“Tell me the last rule,” you say.

“That will have to wait,” your assistant interrupts you. “The car is here to take you to the photoshoot.”

Natasha turns to her, “I’ll need information about anyone who drives Miss y/l/n, and you’ll need to include me on all itineraries from this point on.”

“Okay,” Kate replies.

“Thank you.”

You grab your jacket and purse before heading down to the car that’s waiting outside. Nat follows you closely. There are a few fans waiting but nothing compared to some days. You get inside the car, and she sits in the seat next to you.

She buckles up and waits for you expectantly to do the same. The car is in motion before you do it, so takes it upon herself to reach over you and grab the belt.

“What are you doing?!” You ask her.

“You’re not invincible,” Nat says while clicking your belt into place.

You groan in annoyance, but you do feel warm at the thought of someone caring enough for you to make sure you are buckled. You really need to surround yourself with better people.

At the photoshoot, Nat stands guard. She stays out of the way but keeps an eye on you. She doesn’t mind watching you wear beautiful clothes and pose in appealing ways. The whole thing kind of turns her on.

The first few weeks of her employment goes like this. You attend events, parties, and photoshoots. You don’t give Nat any trouble. That is until the night of your birthday party.

The first part of the night went fine. So many people showed up that you didn’t even know them all, but that’s the industry for you. You are sitting at a table and flirting with one of your new colleagues when things take a turn for the worst.

“How about we find somewhere more private?” He leans in and asks you.

“Maybe another time,” you say. You like him just fine, but you really don’t want to leave the party yet. 

“Come on, baby. It’ll be fun.”

“Not tonight,” you reply.

You glance towards Nat who is across the room. She catches your eyes and walks closer to you, keeping her distance but ready to help if you need her.

“Y/n, let’s go,” the man says, taking your hand and trying to pull you up.

“No,” you say firmly.

“She said no,” your actress friend that you’re closest to, Wanda, jumps in.

“Come on,” he still won’t relent. His grip is tightening on your arm. It hurts. He leans closer to your lips. “Let’s just-”

“Hands off of her,” he is interrupted by Natasha getting in his face. She pushes his chest to get him off of you. He releases your arm, but doesn’t back down from Nat.

“What are you going to do about it?” He attempts to taunt her.

“Leave,” Nat says. “Or I’ll put you through that wall.”

“So dramatic,” he says. But he backs away and heads towards the door.

Once he is out of sight, Natasha turns back to you. Wanda and a few others are trying to protect you, but you only want comfort from one person. You practically jump into her arms as you try to hide your tears from anyone else. Nat hugs you back, but with hesitance.

She feels safe and warm as you let yourself go in her arms. Her black leather jacket collects your tears. She walks with you in her arms away from the crowd.

“Are you alright?” She asks, real concern in her eyes.

“I’m fine,” you say, but you don’t look it. Nat walks you to your car and inside the vehicle.

You look out the window and try to hold back your tears.

“Let me see your arm,” Nat says after a few minutes.

You hold it out for her to examine. She doesn’t see any injuries. Her touch is featherlight as she rubs her hands over the aching muscles.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get near you again,” she says.

“Thanks, Agent Romanoff,” you reply.

“You can call me Natasha,” she says.

“I love that name,” you tell her. She smirks.

“I’ll step in sooner next time, okay?”

“Okay. Maybe we need a code word or something,” you suggest.

“Like spies,” Nat jokes. You crack a smile, and she feels better about your state. “Let’s see. You can switch your drink from one hand to another.”

“We’ll workshop it, Natasha,” you say.

Nat nods. When you arrive at home, Nat helps you inside. She typically leaves you for the night, but you ask her to stay. Natasha sleeps on the couch.

When you wake in the morning, you find her sitting upright and ready to work. You sigh, thinking about the events from last night.

“What is it? Am I just not pretty?” You ask Natasha as you throw yourself onto the couch next to her.

“You know I can’t answer that and be professional,” Natasha replies.

She tries not to smirk at the way you dramatically sat down. She is slowly opening up to the idea of enjoying being around you as more than just her client.

“But you could just tell me because it seems that no one wants to date me,” you say.

“Y/n,” Natasha warns. “Trust me you are not the problem. I know for a fact people tell you that you are pretty all the time. Those assholes that go after you say it. You wouldn’t be a successful actress if you weren’t pretty.”

“Maybe, but I really don’t feel pretty.”

You sit up straighter and wait for Natasha’s response.

“You’re beautiful, y/n,” Natasha says sincerely.

“Really?”

“Really. Inside and out,” she says.

“I don’t know about that,” you reply despondently.

“I know. Look I haven’t known you but a few weeks, but I know that you’re a good person, y/n. And that makes you more beautiful than a million other people in the same position that you’re in,” Natasha explains.

There is no hesitation in her voice. It is nothing but the truth.

You feel yourself leaning in closer to her, but she moves away breaking the closeness. You try not to frown.

“Rule number three: We can’t get too close to each other,” Natasha says. “I have to protect you with a clear mind.”

“Okay,” you say. “But maybe we could break the rules, Natasha?”

To be continued…

[cocosvalentine]

Crisis Averted

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Synopsis. it was meant to be a simple day of relaxation but you work for Rafayel so days like this don’t exist the only solution is putting him in his place but it seems he enjoyed it more than you wanted him to

Pairing. Reader x Rafayel

Content. sub Rafayel, dom reader, teasing, degrading, oral fem receiving, object insertion, edging, overstimulating, pet names, dacryphilia, sexual content, breeding ( if you squint ), SMUT, NSFW, uhhh idk what else el oh el :3

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           A soft hum leaves your lips as the sound of smooth jazz fills the room. You moaned in delight as you dipped your body further into the comfort of the warm bath. Finally, a day off which was long overdue. With an increase of wanderers and protecting or rather looking after Rafayel, your body was beyond sore and needed to relax. But it was shortly interrupted by the sound of a familiar ring. “Fuck” you groaned under your breath as you grabbed your phone. “Hello,” the word came out more angered than you had hoped. “I’m sorry to interrupt you on your day off it’s just I haven’t been able to get in touch with Rafayel; he’s even gone and locked himself in his studio. We have an important meeting with a buyer but he’s been acting out and I need your assistance” you groan at the news that Thomas shared about Rayafel's recent outburst. 

           “I’ll be right over” The water splashes around you as you reassure him that you’ll settle the matter with the stubborn artist. You hear a sigh of relief from the other hand as he sings praises to you but it doesn’t help quell your anger of your relaxation being interrupted. You quickly get dressed as you rush over hoping to settle this quickly. Using the spare key Rayael gave you, you slam open the door spooking Rayafel in the process. “Damn it Thomas” he mutters under his breath as he lifts his gaze to meet yours. He quickly looked away a clear pout placed on his face. 

           “Are you going to tell me what this is about or do I have to force it out of you Rafayel” You see the way his body shivers at the sound of his name leaving your lips. “It’s none of your concern” he simply says trying to ignore how your eyes stare deep into his soul. “Oh? If that was the case I wouldn’t be called here on my day off all 'cause you wanna be a brat isn’t that right” your tone is cold as you speak slowly approaching him. Rayafel remains on the ground his paintbrushes surrounding him and dry paint litter the floor. “You could have simply ignored his call” he crosses his arms as he speaks his pout deepens but his eyes never once waver from their position on the ground. 

��          “Hmm, how long do you plan on looking at the ground my eyes are up here” he flinches at your word as his eyes slowly raise to meet yours for a mere second before looking away once more. “Rafayel I’m sure I’ve made it clear that I expect full eye contact when we speak” he ignores your words as his eyes studies the floor. His breath hitches as a pained whimper leaves his lips at the harsh feel of you tugging his hair. Your nails dig into his scalp as he stares deep into your eyes the only noticeable emotion is anger. 

           “It’s Thomas's fault…I already told him I had no plans on selling the painting but he went behind my back and…” His words are cut off as you release your grip pushing him back down. “Yet you can’t respond like a grown man, instead you're in here sulking like a little brat who got his candy stolen. I don’t care what's going on between you and Thomas, what I want to know is how you're going to make it up to me for ruining my day off” he scoffs at your words as he crosses his arms upset at being blamed for something he had no part in or so he believed. “Hmm, it seems I haven’t made myself clear. Either you lose that fucking attitude before I fuck it out of you. Or perhaps you want me to strap you to your bed again and edge you like the little whore you are” A blush emerges on his face at your words. 

           “Thats not fair I’m not even the one who called why am I being punished” hr argues as you roll your eyes in response. “You decided to be a little brat, you decided to lock yourself in your studio, your actions started all of this so the next thing I expect out of that whore mouth is ‘I’m sorry ma’am’ Do you hear me Rafayel” you watch as he grinds his teeth a blush embracing his face as he stares at the ground. “I’m sorry” he whispers those words hardly loud enough for you to hear. “What was that I can quite hear you” you taunt before pressing your heels against his crotch. He inhaled sharply at the feel of your foot pressing harshly against his crotch. “I’m sorry ma’am” The words came out in a strangled breath it was clear he was trying to bite back a moan. “Hmm, I'm not sure if you truly mean that, strip” he jerks his head up at your command. 

           He quickly looks away as he slowly stands. You watch as he strips at a teasingly slow pace. “It would be wise to hurry up, I don’t have all day” As those words leave your lips he quickly rushes to discard the rest of his clothes. You scoff at the sight of his cock throbbing and leaking. “Fuck you really are a pathetic little whore, I didn’t even do much and you're already dripping. Are you really that needy for me to use you like the whore you are” he continues to avoid your gaze as you circle him but the way his cock twitches seems to give you the answer you desire. Grabbing his cock a stifled whine leaves his lips, “Aww what happened you were so ready to bite back after every word” he bites his lips further at your taunting words. 

           Letting go of his cock you reach down and grab his belt, “Hands behind your back” you smirk watching how quickly he listens to your command. Wrapping his belt around his wrist you make sure to tighten it before pushing him to the ground. You turn him onto his back using your heels as you press it against his chest. He looks up to you his eyes so full of need, begging for you’re touch. You trail your foot down towards his cock pressing it harshely as a startled cry leaves his lips. You press down further watching how his back arches and his eyes begin to tear up. Fuck did he look perfect. 

           Lifting your foot you bring it closer to his face as you press it against his lips, his tongue quickly darts out as he begins to lick and suck at your heel. You chuckle at the sight you hardly needed to commend him when he was so desperate. “On your knees” you order as you remove your heel from his lips. He rises to his knees his hands tied behind his back as he looks up at you awaiting his next order. He watches you slightly confused as you pick up a few items. Kneeling before him you grab his cock causing a whimper to leave his lips. His eyes widened watching how you place a make-shift cock ring with his shoe tie. He whimpers at the tight and restricting feeling but he can’t deny how good it made him feel. 

           You push him down a bit as you sit behind him, you watch how his hips tremble at the feel of your salvia dripping onto his ass. Stroking his cock you gather a bit of his precum before mixing it with your saliva. Soft moans leave his lips as he watches patiently wondering what you had up your sleeve. “I do hope you remember this is a punishment” you taunt watching how his eyes widen at the sight of the paintbrush in your hand. A choked gasp escapes his lips as he feels you pushing the paintbrush into his ass. His body trembles feeling the foreign object push deeper into his aching hole. “Ma-ma’am this f-feels strange” he whined before feeling another insert him this one was much thicker. 

           Heavy pants left his lips as you continued to push more inside him stretching him more than he thought was possible. “Hmm is this really all you can fit” your words are cold as you scoff in annoyance. “Make sure none of them fall out unless you want me to stuff more of them inside” he whimpers at your words before giving a weak yes ma’am. “On your knees” you order he slowly rises to his knees as tears stream down his face. Grabbing hold of his cock he watched with blurred eyes as you press a thin paintbrush into his cock. A faint gasp leaves his lips as his back arches. 

           More of his precum leaks out as you continue to push the paintbrush deeper. His eyes widen as loud moans leave his lips. His breath becomes heavier as he feels a strange sensation. His body trembles the need to cum is overwhelming. “T-take it out…I wanna cum please take it out” You scoff at his words as you squeeze his cock tightly. “Are you telling me what to do?” you squeeze tighter as you speak. “Wasting my time with petty actions and now you think you can boss me around, oh Rafayel you haven’t learned a single thing” you taunt as you begin to stroke his cock.

           His hips buck begging for more pleasure but it was almost painful. The need to cum was overwhelming. “Oh fuck fuck” he whines as he feels you toy with the thin paintbrush while stroking his cock. “If you're a good boy you won’t come until I say so” he whines in response as he bites his lips. A loud cry spills from his lips as you nearly pull out the paintbrush. His cock shudders as more precum leaks out. Minutes passed as you continued to edge him, he was becoming overstimulated as the time passed. 

           A sharp gasp left his lips as he felt you twirl the thin paintbrush around in his cock. Choked moans struggle to escape as he bucks his hips begging for more. Drool seeps down his face as his eyes roll back. “Thats not good this is meant to be a punishment, Rafe, but here you are whining like a dog in heat fucking pathetic” he whines at your words but he continues to chase the pleasure. “W-wanna cum” he lets out in a desperate attempt to seek more pleasure. “Please I-I can’t an-anymore” he whines as more tears stream down his face. 

           You giggle at the sight of Rafayel red in the face, eyes filled to the brim with tears and drool leaving his lips. “Aww does my little pup feel good” You taunt as he struggles to let out a proper sentence, broken moans leave his lips his blurred eyes focusing on the way you pushed the thin paintbrush into his cock. “Only good boys get to cum, if you beg properly maybe I’ll let you cum” You wondered if he heard you properly he clearly was overwhelmed by the pleasure. His mind was dazed from the pleasure but the pain of not being able to cum was torture. Whimpers left his lips as he bucked his hips upwards begging for more. “Pl-please I wa-wanna cum ma’am pl-please” he struggled to let out as another loud moan left his lips. 

           His breath was heavy as he felt you push another paintbrush into his ass. He was full to the brim but he couldn’t help how much he wanted more. The pleasure from both ends was overwhelming for his mind. Tears streamed down his face as he continued to beg. “Fuck please I wanna cum I wanna cum I wanna cum” He repeated the phrase over and over again his desperation leaking through it only excited you further. “Aww does my little pup wanna cum, but only good boys get to cum and you haven’t been a good boy” Your taunting words were followed by a deep chuckle at the way Rafayel sobbed. 

           His desperation was enticing he was a blubbering wet mess begging to be used. “I-I’ll be a good pup I swear pl-please wa-wanna cum” he begged through rigged breaths as his eyes followed your movement. You stood up before removing your panties and tossing them aside. “If you wanna cum so bad then I’ll give you three minutes to make your master cum” he hardly let you finish as he latched his mouth to your dripping pussy. You bite your lips feeling him sucking on your clit in a desperate attempt to make you cum faster. Grabbing onto his head you pushed his head deeper into your cunt loving how his tongue fucked you. “Good boy, making your master so proud” you mewled as your breath quickened. 

           Soft moans left your lips as you road his tongue, licking your dry lips you can’t deny you were close. Rafayel knew every spot that could bring you close to the edge. “Oh fuck” you whine as your fingers reach down towards your clit rubbing it as you threw your head back. Loud moans began to leave your lips, “Fuck Rafa-Rafayel, oh fuck yes right there baby” you whined feeling your climax approaching. A loud cry leaves your lips as your climax crashes down like waves. You whine as Rafayel drinks it all. You pull away staring down at his cum covered face. Catching your breath you lean down gently toying with the thin paintbrush. You slowly pull it out before pushing Rafayel down onto his back. 

           You straddle him as you aligned his cock with your cunt. “I’m not one to go back on my word and you’ve been a good boy so you desire a little reward” he whines in response as he watches his cock despires inside your warm walls. Soft pants leave his lips as you bounce on his cock, “Wanna cum inside your master?” he nods his head desperately at your question. “Go ahead cum inside be a good pup and breed your master” he arches his hips to meet your movement before you know it his hot cum is spilling deep inside you. 

           He cries out loudly as he cums, and you continue to ride him. You come to a steady pace before stopping completely. You slowly rise as his cock slips out your cunt, “You’re not done, shouldn’t you clean your master and thank me” You stare down at the tired men as you utter those words. He slowly rises as he opens his mouth, you watch as he licks his cum from your cunt. “T-thank you ma’am” he whimpers clearly out of breath. Before you can speak you hear the sound of your phone ringing. 

“Hey is everything settled?” Thomas's voice fills the room as you turn to stare at Rafaeyl. “Hmm yes, he’ll be there shortly don’t worry I already dealt with his little outburst” you replied as Thomas thanked you over and over. “It’s no problem always happy to help,” you said in a cheery tone.

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not used to this so be kind first love and deepspace fic and second fic overall hope ya enjoy :3

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。RIGOR — AL-HAITHAM.

contents. mild injuries (al-haitham), established relationship, fluff, really bad banter, al-haitham is left handed because i say so

notes. literally just 2k embarrassing words of you taking care of al-haitham after he’s injured from a trip to the desert. yeah.

“that stings,” al-haitham hisses, glaring at you—which earns him an equally as harsh glare back. “why don’t you just pour the entire bottle of antiseptic down my arm at this rate?

“don’t yell at me,” you hiss back, scowling as you dab at the (already clean) wound some more, “i’m not the one who came back with this. why didn’t you get it checked?”

to your utter dismay, al-haitham comes home from a visit to the desert injured. gravely.

well, truth be told, it’s not really grave. that’s just how you see it because anything beyond a scratch is enough to throw you into a fit of panic. he’s not really used to coming home to someone fretting over him like this—standing between his legs as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, dabbing ever so gently at the small (and hardly deep, he’d like to point out) cut on his arm.

running into eremites is an inevitable part of most visits to desert ruins. usually, al-haitham manages to come back unscathed, but sometimes, things don’t always go accordingly. in his defense, he’d thought he’d be able to dodge the blade of the eremite he happened to be fighting. al-haitham has the precision and athletic ability to not only manage, but excel at dodging things that are thrown at him. but still, even he has his moments of miscalculation, and just by a hair, he feels the sting of a blade’s edge tearing through the surface of his skin.

it’s unfortunate, but it’s not a big deal—at least, that’s what he thought. apparently, but not unusually, you have a tendency to disagree with him on most things.

“i was going to check it myself,” he says simply, “it would’ve been fine.”

“oh, i didn’t realize you graduated in linguistics and biology,” you raise a brow.

al-haitham is a well rounded man—he reads books from just about any subject so long as it’s informative and offers him new knowledge that can assist him in being well versed in any topic. more importantly, al-haitham rarely loses arguments, and in order to be able to always win said arguments, his understanding of most subjects is required to be thorough.

he knows how to treat a small wound or two, especially with as often as he lands himself in small fights as he explores ruins.

he looks up at you with an unimpressed stare as he mumbles, “i’ve taken at least a few classes from every darshan.”

“i hate you,” you huff. he exhales tiredly.

“it’s only a cut,” he argues, “there’s no need to be so worried—”

“i’m always worried,” you sigh, staring dejectedly at the injury littering his arm. no one should ever leave a mark over his skin—unless it’s you, and that’s only in a very different context. “does it hurt?” you ask quietly.

a small part of him feels guilty that he’s worried you over his well being, that he’s come home harmed even the slightest bit and disrupted your peace. but the larger and more rational part of him reasons that injuries of this nature are common and inevitable in trips to the desert like this, and he’s skilled enough to ensure that nothing serious ever happens.

still, for your sake, he mumbles, “no.”

it’s a bit of a white lie—it does sting a bit, and the antiseptic you pressed just a few moments ago didn’t exactly help, but admitting to you that he’s in any sort of pain is only opening up more avenues to making this into a larger deal than it really is.

al-haitham is fine, and he’s doesn’t need anything for the slightly inconvenient but not serious laceration on his skin. he’s sure of that.

but then, you cup his cheeks and press a small kiss to his forehead as you murmur, “my poor baby,” with a small pout, “i’ll feed you dinner, okay? they got your left arm.”

he wants to tell you that his motor skills are good enough that he can function with his non dominant hand—being left handed in a world catered for right handed individuals forces you to acquire functionality in both hands. but before he can open his mouth, you kiss down his cheeks, tracing your lips along him until they map out his jaw.

it distracts him for a moment, making hie eyes close and his breath hitch as he lets your warmth settle into the deepest crevices of his skin.

“don’t worry, haitham, i’ll take care of you until this heals,” you murmur sweetly.

and just like that, al-haitham is a bit conflicted now. in his two plus decades of life, he has always been an independent and capable individual—more than most his age. he doesn’t need the assistance of anyone, nor has he ever really needed the assistance of anyone. but you’re making it very hard to resist with the way you’re doting on him with affection.

“i’m fine,” he tries to argue, “really—”

“i should run you a bath,” you mumble, cutting him off. he gets the strong feeling you’re taking more to yourself than him. “and i’ll wash your hair for you too.”

even with the self control someone like him has, even he can’t help but sigh in content when your fingers slip into his hair, stroking through the strands and scratching gently at his scalp. it’s a bit nice—he has to admit that being taken care of, even as minimally as fingers in his hair, is nice.

“you don’t have to do all that,” he mutters.

“i don’t want you moving that arm,” you huff, “would it kill you to stop acting high and mighty for once? most people would take advantage of being spoiled.”

“i don’t enjoy taking advantage of others like most people,” he shrugs.

“you know what i mean,” you glower, rolling your eyes.

it’s a common understanding to most that al-haitham is a bit difficult—you don’t think you ever remember a time where he hasn’t been. he’s stubborn and always believes his views to be correct, and he’s not ashamed of arguing his point no matter who it is. you’re surprised that mouth of his hasn’t landed him in trouble yet—although, you suppose he’s not exactly in the good graces of most at the akademiya.

and as the akademiya’s acting grand sage, you admire his unwillingness to back down. but, as your boyfriend and the man you love, you wish he’d just compromise sometimes—and maybe let you wash his hair and hand feed him dinner for a bit as you nurse his injury back to health.

just this once….and maybe just a few more times later on too. you don’t ask for much, you like to think.

“i’ve gotten injuries like this before,” he reasons, “i’ve survived.”

you look at him with that delicate look of yours, the one that makes him feel like maybe he’s been living his life wrong this whole time. that it only became correct once his life involved you.

he thinks that’s might just be the case when you grin slightly, pinching his nose as you lean down, pecking his forehead and mumbling, “you don’t always have to just survive. you can indulge a bit, you know.”

“is that so?” he raises a brow, his good arm snaking around your hips.

“yes,” you hum, “if you give it a try, you might just enjoy indulging here and there,” you grin, stroking a thumb over his cheek as you admire his features, relearning every curve and every angle of his face. you don’t think you’d ever get bored like this—just standing in your bathroom, staring at him. you think you could comfortably stay right here like this forever.

maybe longer.

“i see,” he says slowly. al-haitham has always had a strong sense of control. but that was before you—he’s now forced to admit that his resolve is a bit weaker, just a bit shakier after you’ve come along. “does this begin with washing my hair?”

“and feeding you dinner,” you nod, tracing your thumb over his brow, letting it wander along the hook of his nose. “do you want me to kiss your arm better too?”

“is that really going to help?” he asks in amusement, making you giggle.

“oh yes,” you tease, “it was in a class i took from amurta. you probably didn’t take it—it’s far too rigorous for you.”

“oh,” he nods playfully, “of course. you’ll have to excuse my lack of understanding. not everyone can be as advanced as you.”

“here,” you grin—and it’s wide, and it’s warm, and it’s far too bright to ever be dimmed by the light of your bathroom as you stare at him, “i can demonstrate if you want. hands-on learning is always the best.”

“i must ask—have you ever learned hands-on like this with anyone else?” he raises a brow.

“and if i have? would that make you jealous?”

“perhaps a little,” he admits, fighting desperately to keep his own smile hidden. it’s hard not to smile when you’re around—how could he not when you swallow the sun with your lips every time they curve upwards in that honeyed way that they do?

“don’t worry,” you giggle again—and god, he thinks, he really loves that sound. he watches you lean down and kiss softly along the edges of his wound, tracing the cut slowly as you say, “you’re my only academic partner now.”

“i’m most grateful.”

“well?” you peck his shoulder, “a kiss helps, doesn’t it?”

“it does,” he chuckles quietly, “maybe you can show me a bit more.”

he’s given into you completely by now—you can tell by the way his body is relaxed on the edge of the bathtub. you can tell by that easy grin plastered on his usually blank face. you can tell by the way he leans into your touch every chance he gets. you can tell by the way he asks you to kiss his wound some more—the same wound he didn’t think you needed to care about.

but you always care, and he’s starting to understand you always will. so he stares at you hopefully, expecting just a few more presses of your lips.

so you do, kissing along his arm, peppering scattered pecks along his shoulder, pressing your lips gently along the column of his neck as he sighs softly and closes his eyes.

maybe being taken care of isn’t so bad—maybe he’s been missing out all this time….but then again, he thinks it’s just that he’s always been missing you. like he was born to find you. like he was made to be yours and you were made to be his and you both were made for each other if nothing else.

if nothing else, al-haitham is glad to be yours.

“does it still hurt?” you ask after some time.

“just a little,” he lets himself admit, “it’s nothing i’ve never dealt with before.”

“you really worried me you know,” you breathe quietly, making him squeeze your hips in reassurance, “don’t hide next time you’re hurt.”

“and will you kiss me back to health if i tell you?” he hums, leaning his head back to let you kiss his jaw easier.

you smile against his skin, letting your touch linger for a moment before you mumble, “of course, it’s only the best treatment. only those who take rigorous classes would know that.”

“good thing i have you to teach me.”

“yes, you’re really quite lucky,” you say with a cheeky smile.

there’s a warm bath waiting for him after this. and a hand fed meal. and perhaps a few more gentle kisses. but most certainly a lifetime of you—that much he knows.

i feel like i’m borderline violating myself by posting this bc it’s so self indulgent but here u go

[runnning-outof-time]

The Joys of Being a Girl Dad | Tommy Shelby & Alfie Solomons (set in Girl Dad series)

Request: no - written for @justrainandcoffee ‘s 2 year ‘Alfieversary’

Pairing: Tommy Shelby (x Reader mentioned) & Alfie Solomons (x fem!OC & child OC mentioned)

Summary: Tommy stops by Margate to congratulate an old associate…adversary…friend.

Warnings: language (it’s Tommy and Alfie we’re talking about here), a slight bit of Cyril slander

A/N: I’m sorry it took me soooo long to write something for your celebration, Flor!! I guess I could call this a present for Rose’s 1 year anniversary too now, even though she’s not really in it. Thank you for sharing this beautiful au with us!!

A/N 2: I should also say that this story was supposed to be shorter, but I just kinda became invested and ran away with it…I hope you don’t mind. Also it’s been a bit since I’ve written for Alfie, so I hope he’s not too ooc here. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! — YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

“Who let you in?” the man who was sitting facing the open balcony door asked.

“How’d you know it was me?” the other man, who was standing at the entrance of the room, responded with his own question.

“Smelt the smoke and horse shit the second you stepped through that archway,” the first man mused, earning a snort from the second. “So I’ll ask again: who let you in?”

“Your wife…”

“Figures she did,” the first man cut the second off, muttering the comment under his breath.

“Your wife’s assistant let me in after she told me to get lost and slammed the door in my face,” the rest of the statement was shared, which made the first man finally spin in his seat to look back towards the archway.

Silence hung in the air for a few moments, the two men staring at each other from several paces away…much like they had on that fated day all those months ago. “So why didn’t ya listen to her?” the first man finally broke the quiet, his quip conjoined with a look of query.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Alfie?” the second man asked, his eyebrows just slightly raised.

“It has,” the first man nodded, pursing his lips together for a moment before he continued, “yet it is still sooner than the day in which I thought I’d see Tommy Shelby again.”

Tommy Shelby just shook his head at the man’s remark, looking at the ground as he pursed his lips. It didn’t faze him in the slightest.

“Why’re you here then?” Alfie asked, still wanting to get to the bottom of the Birmingham man’s presence. However, he interjected again before said man even had the chance to speak: “you’ve come to finish me off, haven’t ya? Since ya couldn’t get it right the first time.”

“I’ve come with something,” Tommy answered, not even bothering to respond to Alfie’s second comment.

He then stepped towards the chair that the other man was sitting in, his hands still behind his back. Anyone else would have wondered if maybe they’d got it right…maybe he was actually there to finish his old adversary off. But Alfie wasn’t bothered in the slightest. No, he could tell from the manner in which Tommy approached him.

“I want to offer a congratulations…on your daughter,” Tommy finished his statement once he was standing in front of Alfie. Alfie looked him over with raised eyebrows, wondering just how a busy, business-minded man like him would have gotten such information. “(Y/N) told me the news. She got word of it from Rose,” Tommy gave the curious man some more information.

“That Rosie…” Alfie mused with a slight shake of his head, “I had a feelin’ that she hadn’t cut off all contact with you Shelbys.” He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his wife still keeping up a regular correspondence with the wife of the man who’d shot him.

(Y/N) and Rose had hit it off practically from the moment they met each other. Their friendship went beyond their husbands’ business partnership, and so when one disgruntled husband aimed a gun at the other and pulled the trigger, the two women tried hard not to let it come completely between them. There some time where radio silence prevailed…actually most out the time over the course of the last year was filled with radio silence, but it didn’t seem like a beat was missed when Rose contacted (Y/N) to tell her of the newest addition to the Solomons family.

Although Tommy was more hesitant to make amends, he couldn’t deny his wife’s request to deliver something to the newest Solomons.

“She wanted me to give you this,” Tommy then said, finally revealing the tan, stuffed rabbit that he’d brought with him. “To give to her,” he included, making his intentions more clear.

“I knew you weren’t givin’ me a stuffed rabbit,” Alfie quipped, snorting to himself before continuing, “or at least I hope you were plannin’ to.”

“I wasn’t planning on doing that, Alfie, no,” Tommy shook his head, dismissing the comment before it gained any ground. “The rabbit’s for your girl.”

Alfie took a moment to look over the other man again. He was still holding the rabbit out in front of him, waiting for Alfie to take it. Tommy wondered how long Alfie was going to make him stand like this.

Finally he took it. “She’ll like it,” Alfie stated, eyeing over the animal from close up now. He couldn’t deny that it felt soft in his hands. Allie would surely love it. “Thanks, Tommy.”

“My three couldn’t go to bed without it,” Tommy commented, a small smile gracing his lips as he thought of his three daughters and the love they had for that very stuffed rabbit.

A look of realization flashed across Alfie’s face as he heard Tommy’s comment. He brought his hand up to his jaw and ran it down his cheek slowly, stroking his beard as if he was in thought. “Have a seat,” he then said, gesturing to the chair that was set directly across from the one he was sitting in. He waited until the other man was seated before continuing, “three girls, huh?” he mused, sounding like he was talking more so to himself than anything.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded in response.

“A proper girl dad,” Alfie commented then.

“A what?” Tommy asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“You’re a dad that’s got all girls, hence the fucking term girl dad…stick with it, Tommy,” the response came laden with derision.

Tommy raised his eyebrows at the other man’s comments, looking to the ground as he let the air cool off before he cleared his throat and nodded his head. “Yeah, a girl dad then.” He ran a hand along the back of his head as he spoke, wondering if he was even using the term correctly. Alfie didn’t comment, so he guessed that he didn’t seem to care none.

Instead the newer father continued on with the conversation. “Does it ever get hard?”

“What? Being a girl dad?” Tommy looked over at him again.

“No, not being able to hit your fucking mark when you’re fifteen fucking paces away,” Alfie retorted, “yes, being a girl dad,” he then exaggerated his words.

Tommy bit his tongue yet again. He wasn’t here to get into a fight with Alfie Solomons. The rabbit currently sitting in the other man’s lap was supposed to serve as a sort of olive branch.

“It does,” he finally answered after a moment’s pause.

“Give me some fuckin’ detail, mate,” Alfie asked.

“Fuckin’ hell, Alfie,” Tommy sighed under his breath, pressing the pads of his thumbs against his eyelids. He cleared his throat again as he thought of how he’d answer the question. “It’s been hard from the moment we brought Thea home. A different sort of hard than the ‘hard’ I’ve experienced prior. But it’s also been rewarding...with Thea, then Evie and now Juniper. I’ve learned more from them than from anything else I’ve ever done.”

Alfie took a moment to digest what his confidant had just shared with him. He truly didn’t expect Tommy Shelby to come out with such meaningful statements. I guess even the worst of men can change their tones, he thought to himself. “I didn’t know ya had it in ya, Tommy,” he commented, exuding a breath of a laugh as he shook his head.

Tommy kept his eyes locked on Alfie unsure of how to respond to his comment. He wondered if this was all some sort of game…if Alfie now wanted to toy with him; getting him to open up just to use the information against him.

“Thanks for sharing it though. I, uh…” Alfie paused, the sound of his voice cutting through Tommy’s thoughts and making him focus in again. “I’ll take all of the help I can get with this one. They say that raising a child takes a fucking village, or however that fucking saying goes.”

“There’s a great deal of joy in it too,” Tommy made sure to add, hoping to convey that having daughters, or kids at all for that matter, wasn’t only stressful. “I just know that I wouldn’t be able to do it without (Y/N) though.”

“That’s the same with me and my Rosie. A fuckin’ trooper, that woman is,” Alfie agreed in regards to his wife. Truthfully, he wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for Rose Solomons. He genuinely owed his life to her…and he was going to spend the rest of it showing her.

Silence fell between the two men then, both sitting comfortably in their thoughts of the women they had in their lives, and of how much their respective wives meant to them. The silence hung until the sound of small feet came pattering off of the hardwood in the hallway.

“Daddy! Daddy!” a shrill voice of a small girl soon accompanied the hurried footsteps. Said girl quickly appeared in the archway of Alfie office. Along with her frantic demeanor, Alfie was also able to see streaks of tears on her chreks.

“What’s wrong, Allie?” he asked her, his brows furrowing together.

“Cyril chewed on my stuffie, daddy!” she exclaimed, hiccuping as she spoke through her tears. “It was my favorite stuffie!”

“Awe now love, I’m sorry about that,” Alfie began, opening his arms to the child as she came over to him. She quickly fell into them, and he wasted no time in hugging her tightly. “He’s just a brute that knows nothing of favorite stuffies,” he consoled her as she continued to sniffle her tears away.

Tommy watched on as the moment played out in front of him. He laughed to himself as hearing the reason behind the problem at hand took him back to the moments where Cyril had chewed his girls’ stuffies; there had to have been several instances during the dog’s stay at Arrow House.

“I don’t have a stuffie now, daddy,” Allie whimpered, finally lifting her head from her father’s chest. “Mum said it was too covered in slobber to be saved.”

“Well I’ve got just the fix for ya, Allie,” Alfie began, unwrapping one of his arms from her so that he could blindly search for the stuffed rabbit that Tommy had just handed him. He continued when he found the animal, “now I know it’s no bear, and I know that your favorite stuffies have all been bears, but this lovely little lass was just placed upon my lap moments before you came runnin’ in.”

Allie’s eyes immediately found the rabbit, and she had it in her tight embrace within an instant. “This stuffie is so soft! And she has a lovely bow!” she observed, now beaming with excitement. “Thank you so much, daddy!” she smiled at her father.

“Thanks have to go to that man,” Alfie told his daughter, nodding in Tommy’s direction. He bit his tounge and stopped the urge to add ‘the one who shot your father’ because even he knew this wasn’t the time for that. He didn’t want to bring that feud into Allie’s realm.

“What’s his name?” Allie asked in a loud whisper, her shy eyes finding Tommy’s.

“Tell ‘er your name, mate,” Alfie beckoned Tommy to share the information.

“It’s Tommy,” the other man followed suit, smiling as he spoke.

Allie observed him for a moment, surely trying to decide what she felt about him. A few beats of silence passed before a smile formed on her face. “Thank you, Mr. Tommy,” she said in a small voice.

“You’re welcome, Allie,” Tommy nodded, his smile widening.

“Dad you have to yell at Cyril now,” Allie turned back to her dad, a deep frown present on her face.

“I’ll make sure he knows what he’s done,” Alfie assured her, “go play, love.”

With one last smile, Allie hopped off of her father’s lap and exited the room almost as quick as she entered it.

“That fuckin’ dog…” Alfie trailed off, shaking his head, “why’d you give him back?”

“You wanted him back, Alfie,” Tommy answered in a monotone voice.

“You may be right,” Alfie conceded, cracking a smile as he thought about the dog.

“Your daughter’s lovely,” Tommy commented.

“She is, ain’t she?” Alfie answered, “light of my fuckin’ life, that girl…both her and her mum.”

Tommy nodded, his mind going to his wife and daughters. There was no doubt that he shared the same sentiment towards his girls.

Oh, the joys of being a girl dad…even if — or rather when, because it’ll surely happen again — Tommy and Alfie were at odds with each other, they’ll always have the shared title as something they can both relate to.

MASTERLIST

The Story of Rose and Alfie

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited

@peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss

@alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl

@emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife

@anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @jomarch-wannabe @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo

[moonpascal]

Not Again

summary: spiderman ends up on your fire escape…again

warnings: mentions of blood, 18+ reader and peter parker, language, possibly ooc, lots of dialogue, idk what else

any peter parker x f!reader l wc: 780 (thought it was longer)

a/n: rewrote this at least 20 times and this version i’m at least ok with more than the others. considering it’s been in my drafts forever. still new at writing and suck ass at being descriptive as i want to be. hopefully it’s enjoyable, if so leave a like, comment or reblog <3

“I really am sorry for showing up two nights in a row” Spiderman sighed.  

“Ya sure I bet you are, especially after I told you I don’t have a first aid kit or know jack shit about what I'm doing,” you grumbled. It was too late or too early—who the hell knows. All you knew was that you had work in the morning, and poorly assessing the Spiderman was not on your to-do list. 

Lightly dabbing the washcloth against the exposed areas of the suit, careful not to apply too much pressure, but no matter how delicate you were it didn't take the pain away. 

How he managed to land on your fire escape yesterday and to purposely come again tonight was beyond you. Why couldn’t he land somewhere who was a nurse or owned a damn first aid kit! Even though tonight’s assets are not as roughed up as yesterdays. From what you could see, it seems like he healed a bit.

“Just a tip, but you should learn to dodge when someone is coming at you,” you smirked trying to lighten the mood. Being up this early made you delirious when it’s this late at night; anything and everything is funny when it’s two in the morning. He must think you’re pretty funny when he huffs and his shoulders shake a bit before groaning at the movement.

“I got a tip for you and it’s pink.” Heat instantly rushes to your face, the shock evident when you pause. You quirk an eyebrow at him, “That mask confidence really gettin to you, or did you get hit in the head too many times today?”

“Bit of both, I watched this streamer guy and he said it. I’ve been itching to say it.” If he had the mask off you might think he’s smirking at you. But all you get to see is the white lens’s from the suit adjusting looking at you. 

“I’m not surprised, you seem like someone who watches streamers.” He scoffs as you start wringing out the last of the blood from what was a white cloth. There's no point in keeping it now. Sliding out of the dining chair, grabbing the bowl and littered trash accumulated around you guys.

“I do appreciate your help and that I landed on your fire escape.” 

“My sleep says otherwise. How did you end up on mine of all places in the first place?” It’s been running marathons in your head since yesterday's incident. The apartment balcony looked like everyone else’s -plain- and in between levels, not even the top floor. 

“Web snapped, ran out of web fluid last minute,” he shrugged, as if that’s the most normal thing in the world. Web fluid? Like it comes out of him- eww gross—not even gonna think about it. 

Glancing at the stove, the green glow of the clock saying it was indeed time to go back to bed. Having to be up in a few hours for a stupid meeting, that you didn’t have to be there for only to be the office bitch- which isn’t even your job- but it paid wellish. At least enough to afford this place.  

“I’m glad I could be of assistance spidey, you're welcome to my couch, but I’m going to head to bed. I have a long day tomorrow.”

He shifts in the chair before slowly standing up gripping his side. He starts limping towards the window, and groans as he opens the stubborn thing. “See you tomorrow night, my guardian angel.”

“No sir, I won’t be here tomorrow night,”you laughed. Turning all the lights off till you got close to him. You could feel his shock just staring at you even if the mask hid his expression. It’s almost too easy to read him like this. 

“And why not?” He questioned with a hint of too much sass. Popping his hip out and placing his hand there. 

“I’m started to suspect you’re getting hurt on purpose to see me,” you copy his pose with just enough dramatics. “Anyways I have a date,” you shrugged. First one in a while at that and a girl has needs that’ll hopefully be fulfilled, but it’s best not to get your hopes up too high. 

“A date? At 2 in the morning?” 

“Yeah if it ends well,” you smirk. He drops his pose before not so gracefully trying to get out the window. 

“Oh yeah makes sense, right well enjoy your date,” he stutters before slamming the window shut, enough to shake the pictures you have hanging on the wall. 

You sigh, latching the lock and trudging back to the comfort of your bed. 

[leveloneandup]

For Christen Press, the Joy is in the Journey

Progress isn’t perfect.

That’s been Christen Press’s motto over the 781 days since she last played in a soccer match—and not just when it comes to her recovery from the ACL tear she sustained in June, 2022, but also when thinking about life as a whole.

“You have to accept that things won’t go the way you think they will, but maybe they’ll go better,” she explains. “Progress isn’t linear. It’s up and down and back and forth. But in that movement there’s more than what you ever imagined. So the imperfection—the struggle, the setbacks—those are actually the greatest gifts as you get to learn about yourself and you have the chance to grow.”

Press has had more than her share of setbacks over the last two years, as an initial surgery turned into two, then three, and finally four.

“I think every single time that I was told I’d have to have surgery, from the first ACL reconstruction and the three scopes that I had, I always thought I would be on the quickest timeline possible,” said Press when she returned to Angel City training in June. “I think that's part of who I am. I'm just relentlessly optimistic. I'm naively positive, and just thinking that everything's going to work out for me—and I never want that to change, you know? And I got off course of all of those timelines so many times that I finally had to actually relinquish that expectation of myself.”

In her two years off the field, Press says she’s grown and healed in more ways than just physically, but the goal was always to return, even if that possibility felt far off at times.

“I never thought about giving up,” says Press, “but there were moments that I thought I’d have to accept that I wouldn’t make it—or that ‘making it’ might not look how I expected.”

One of the hardest things about this process has been accepting that the outcome was not fully under her control. “I’m able to do a lot of suffering for success, and I’ve been that way since I was a child,” she says. “The question I had to answer was how to accept and be open to things I cannot control.”

Press had access to the best medical and rehabilitation care in the business—first at the Meyer Institute of Sports, an El Segundo rehab and performance facility specializing in elite athletes, and then with Angel City’s training staff, including VP of Medical and Performance Sarah Smith, Head Athletic Trainer Manny De Alba, Head of Sports Science Dan Jones, Director of Rehabilitation Sarah Neal, Performance Coach Michael Roman, Assistant Athletic Trainer April Seymon, and Senior Physical Therapist Joscelyn Shumate Bourne.

Ultimately, bodies don’t always heal the way we hope they will. All she could do was show up every day and try her best.

“I had to make decisions that centered my well being and full personhood,” she says. “To start to find my inherent value outside of excellence in the pitch.”

In part, that meant finding joy in other areas of life. She worked on her business, re–Inc, including starting a podcast with (business and life) partner Tobin Heath, initially focusing on the 2023 World Cup, then branching out to cover women’s soccer more generally. She went to the beach. She spent time with family.

In some ways, this time away from the game Press loves has been freeing. “The last two years have been the first of my career that I wasn’t evaluated on my performance,” she says. “I showed up for PT every day with a smile on my face and gave max effort. That’s all I had to do.”

Press’s return comes at a perfect time for the club: they’ve begun to build momentum with two convincing Summer Cup wins, against Club América and Bay FC, as they look ahead to the back half of the regular season. Playoffs are still well within reach heading into this stretch, a fact that Press’s return can only make more tangible.

“Her quality is inevitable,” says First Assistant Coach Eleri Earnshaw. “Last week in training, she scored a couple of goals that we haven't seen anyone else do yet this season in training.”

Returning to play after such a long hiatus isn’t easy for anyone, but Earnshaw says there’s a point the coaching staff have emphasized both to Press and to other injured players eyeing a return to the field: “your ability doesn't change overnight,” she says. “There are some things that just stay with you. Her chance creation, her separation from defenders—you’ve got to be in the right physical and mental place to be able to perform those things, to be confident to do it, but she is building those things up every day.”

“If we can get that quality onto the pitch for any number of minutes, great,” she concludes.

As Press anticipates her return to what she calls “the real world of professional sports”—one “filled with stress and pressure and often angst,” as she puts it—she’s going in with a fresh perspective.

“I’m determined to enjoy it,” she says. “I know who I am as a player and person, and I see this opportunity as a chance to do what I love. I told my teammates today: football is a miracle. It’s a miracle we get to do the thing we love.”

[specialagentlokitty]

Shaun Murphy x reader - the jobs we love

Hi. I saw that you have The Good Doctor in your writing list. If you still write for it I was wondering if you would write a Shaun fic? If it could include this prompt 7. “You are the best person I’ve ever met, I’ve met so many people, but none of them compare to you.” from your prompt list. Also if it could be the Reader that says the prompt. Thank you and love all your work!❤️ - Anon💜

Slowly moving around your hospital room, you followed a strict step by step routine, being mindful of the furniture in there.

Each step hurt, but you had to keep practicing your routine.

“I would have to advise against moving around, you will hurt yourself more.”

You smiled a little bit, turning to the doorway, hands clasped behind your back as you smiled from ear to ear at the doctor who was waiting.

“I have to practice my routine Doctor Murphy, otherwise I’ll forget it.”

“Do you use the same routine every time?” He asked.

He padded in, holding your file to his chest, and he stood in front of you, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet slightly.

“I need you to sit down.”

You nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed.

You watched as Shaun walked over, standing in front of you as he began to do some basic checks on you.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“My leg hurts a lot, but other than that I’m okay.”

“Yes, you have broken your leg in two places. It is why we told you not to move around.”

You hummed a little bit and nodded.

“Why do you carry on walking around if it hurts you?”

You moved back on to the bed, putting your leg up and Shaun before checking it over, and you let him.

Sometimes you would move in discomfort, but you didn’t do anything to stop him from doing his job.

“Well, it’s my job. I have deadlines to meet, and the season starts up again soon, so I need to be ready to practice.”

“I would advise against practicing until your breaks are fully healed, you may break your leg again.”

“I’ve broken many bones.” You smiled.

“What is your job?”

“Professional figure skater.”

Shaun nodded his head, pacing back and forth as he went through your file.

“Why do you still do it if you get hurt?”

You rested your head back on one of your arms, looking as he took a marker out of his pocket, and began to draw on your leg.

“Well, it’s something I love doing. Would you stop being a surgeon if you got hurt?”

“Yes, it is not logical to stay at a work place where you get hurt.”

“Soldiers get hurt, police officers get hurt, firemen get hurt, sometimes doctors and nurses get hurt too Shaun. If everybody stopped doing their jobs because they’re scared of being hurt then we’d have nobody to help us.”

Shaun furrowed his brows a little in confusion.

“I.. I don’t understand.”

“Are to scared that you’ll get hurt when you get a really bad patient?”

“Yes, sometimes I am.”

“But you’re still here, right?”

Shaun nodded his head.

“You know why you’re still here?”

“Because I like my job. I am a surgeon. I am a good surgeon.”

You laughed softly, nodding your head.

“Yeah, you’re a good surgeon. Exactly. You love your job, that’s why you’re still here.”

“You love your job.”

“Yeah, I do. That’s why you see me every time I break a bone Shaun.”

He nodded a little.

“You break a lot of bones (Y/N). You should be more careful.”

This made you laugh, and you grinned a little at him.

“Maybe I should, but sometimes we’ve got to take the risk.”

“I cannot take risks, that is dangerous.”

Shaun clasped his hands in front of him, unclasping and clasping them back together as he looked around the room.

“You need surgery to fix one of the breaks in your leg, Doctor Melendez has you scheduled for this evening.”

You hummed a bit.

“Are you gonna be in there too?”

“Yes, I am assisting.”

“Good, i trust you Shaun. I know you’ll do right by me and my leg, you make whatever choice you have to.”

“What if it means you cannot ice skate anymore?”

You smiled softly.

“I trust you.”

“Why? Many people do not like me taking part in the surgery. They do not like having an autistic doctor.”

“You want to know a secret Shaun?” You whispered.

He quickly nodded, shuffling closer so he could hear what you were going to say to him.

“You are the best person I’ve ever met, I’ve met so many people, but none of them compare to you.” You whispered.

Shaun smiled a little bit, and he leant back, looking at you briefly before he turned away.

“Nobody has ever told me that before.”

“Well it’s true, you, Shaun Murphy, are extraordinary. You are amazing, you are smart, and you are going to be the best surgeon in the country one day.”

“How do you know?”

You turned your attention to the ceiling.

“Because you’re the best at what you do. I trust you. I’m glad you’re going to be the one to fix my leg.”

Shaun smiled a little more and he quietly left the room, still smiling to himself.

He had met a few times, sometimes you would go to the hospital with small fractures or head injuries from falling.

Every time you would remind him how he’s going to be a great surgeon, and he would ask you questions about figure skating.

It was a friendship he had never had before, you never doubted him for a second, you listened to him and let him talk about everything that was bothering him.

Shaun liked seeing you, but he didn’t like seeing you in the hospital, but he knew you were going to be okay, because he knew exactly how to fix your break so you could go back to doing exactly what you loved

[zyxoxox]

Pools when I went to request something and I saw your blog aesthetic I just wanted to smooch all over it because it was so cute like OMGG

However I HAVE A REQUEST :3 I WAS WONDERRINGG if you could do Caesar king, Burnice white and WISEE x Fem! Ace detective reader? (BUT OFC if you don’t wanna do fem then NEUTRAL IS ALSO SUCH A GREAT CHOICE‼️)

Anyway if you do this request then THANK YOU SOO MUCH SCHOOKUMS AND HAVE AN AWESOME DAY⁉️

intuition said so!

wise x fem! ace detective!reader || 400 wc

note: wowieeee my first request hihihiii!! i’m glad my blog gives off the vibes, i wanted it to be cozy and the coziest thing for me is boba so 😌 i accept all the smooches!!!

ok sadly i’m not far enough into the game to know the first two, in fact i’ve never even heard of them before this, so im doing just wise sorryy 😭 i just his inter knot lvl 30 and met zhu yuan so. i’ve got a while to go

anywho i hope u like it! have a lovely day too!! <3

“i’m looking for the infamous phaethon. something tells me they’re on sixth street.”

funnily enough, the circumstances of your meeting was a client asking you to track phaethon down. you were in a tough spot when this mysterious hacker found you, and requested a favour- though it was more akin to threatening.

you had no choice but to go along, and though tracking their location was a bit of a challenge, you found a way into their system.

most of your pleasant clients had been proxies themselves, so you were no stranger to phaethon’s name. a part of you felt bad for exposing them like this, but work was work.

until- the hacker who commissioned you got arrested? under the name of.. phaethon?! there was clearly a lot more about this proxy than you’d been let in on, and your curiosity was officially peaked.

“wise and belle… the managers of random play video store. or i should say, phaethon?”

needless to say, the siblings were very wary of your intentions at first. you’d tracked them down… for solely your amusement? considering the nature of their work, it was a bit hard to believe.

but the more they saw your presence, they realised it really was just that- you would go on any tangent that made you curious, because you couldn’t stand being clueless.

and as an ace detective, there weren’t many questions you couldn’t eventually find the answer to.

you’d told wise and belle your connection to the loss of their account early on, and they while initially they treated you like a contact they could call upon, eventually it grew into something more. especially for wise.

“forgive me, master, but i do not understand the purpose of third assistant being here. i have accepted second assistant’s presence due to the emotional ties you have to her, but this other one’s abilities are in nowhere comparable to mine. i can analyse data with 99.99% more efficiency than-”

yeah, fairy did not like you.

and the feeling was mutual. it all started when you began helping wise with his smaller, less confidential commissions. your intuition was super useful in taking in the surroundings, and gathering bit of info and treasure he may have missed otherwise.

well, that was one reason. the other, arguably more important one, was that it was the perfect nonchalant way to keep each other company.

could fairy calculate all the things you said? probably. but it was different from you; much nicer.

the way you’d lean over his chair when he was connected to eous, the way your face scrunched up when you were analysing clues, the way you scratched your nose when your inferences didn’t align, they way you’d snap and jump when they did- wise had all your habits down.

at this point, the reason he didn’t let you in on bigger missions wasn’t because of a lack of trust, more so he knew he’d get distracted.

“wise, please don’t take this the wrong way, but your sentient ai is… unique. what about- what if-maybe we could go somewhere else? maybe coff cafe?”

and so, much to belle’s delight and fairy’s displeasure, the two of you went on a date! (neither of you called it one at the time, but belle was sure she could fix that)

you were very receptive of his likes and dislikes, even when he never had to say them. and you never forgot a word he said.

“here’s your favourite noodles! what? no, silly, you didn’t need to tell me, i figured it out! there was a stain on your shirt that could’ve only been left by chili sauce, and you mentioned you liked noodles crispy, so it was easy enough to shortlist.”

“want to go watch the next ancient aliens documentary together? how’d i know? you keep posting sky pics on the inter-knot and i know you watch weird stuff so-“

wise had a cupboard dedicated to your favourite snacks. if you got down to work, and you didn’t have the, on hand… let’s say he learnt the consequences of that the hard way.

he always had an energy bar on hand, and would hand one over before even you realised you needed one.

being perceptive to all the little details left you quite flustered at mundane stuff, and he was more than happy to go along with it.

an ace detective who couldn’t sit still, and an ace proxy who was calm always- what a sight for sixth street!

[deep-dive]

“A lot of FromSoftware games throw players into this barren wasteland, and it’s a very severe, harsh, cold experience … I don’t think what we’ve been doing in our games has changed, but perhaps the world has come closer to that type of feeling,” agrees Miyazaki. “These past few years have been a huge exception to the rule in terms of what’s happening around us. But even before that, I have always felt that the world was quite a harsh place. I’ve always lived my life with that worldview, those values. So this idea of being thrust into a wasteland and planting the seeds of growth is something that, for me, feels almost universal. Perhaps more people are discovering that right now.” I think that’s something a lot of people miss about FromSoftware games: the sense of hope. In my first interview with Miyazaki, over email back in 2010, he told me about the origin of Demon’s Souls’ unusual multiplayer, wherein players can summon anonymous helpers to help them through a particularly horrible area or boss encounter. He was in his car in winter, trying to get up a hill, and everyone got stuck; only when they started working together, with everybody behind pushing the car in front to the top of the hill, did anyone make it up. He called it “a connection of mutual assistance between transient people”, and added: “Oddly, that incident will probably linger in my heart for a long time. Simply because it’s fleeting, it stays with you a lot longer.” Elden Ring, too, is full of moments of fleeting beauty and camaraderie like this – and it’s because they are rare that they feel meaningful. In a harsh world, moments of respite are to be treasured. “I am sure that there is some experience, if you look deep enough into my history, that has informed my identity, the worldview that drives me to make the games that I do,” says Miyazaki. “I’ve never taken a step back and looked at what may have been the trigger, but I’m sure there is some reason why these are the types of games that I want to see and make. If I were to look in the mirror and reflect on myself … if I go on this soul-searching journey to find out why, I might be disappointed in myself. It would force me to come face to face with how boring and average a person I am. Perhaps I intentionally avoid doing that. It keeps the creative spring flowing.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Whisked Away 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get a job at a bakery but your new boss only adds to your work

Character: chubby!baker!Thor

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

Your first day of work has you over eager. You show up ahead ten minutes early. You’re supposed to get there an hour before opening. You linger outside, pacing aimlessly as you rub your arm, feeling a bit silly for having to wait in the morning shadows. 

There’s a sudden clattering, the noise of metal clinking together, and you turn to greet the behemoth approaching you. Thor’s silhouette is darkened in the dim hues of the hour, the purple sky behind him limning his broad shoulders. He chuckles as he approaches and raises his armful of pans. 

“Early bird,” he chirps at you, “I remembered the new pans!” 

“New pans?” You wonder. 

“Ah, yes, I ordered them ages ago. Carelessly, I left the wrong address in my autofill,” he clucks at himself, “great luck that you’re ahead of schedule, I do require some assistance.” 

“Oh, happily,” you teeter on your heels. 

“Yes, uh, the keys,” he wiggles his left hand and you spot the keyring dangling around his knuckle, “if you could open the door. I’d have you take all this but it is rather heavy.” 

“Of course,” you reach for keys and he straightens his finger. You slip the ring free and stare at the dozen or so keys.  

He laughs again, “it is the one marked F; ‘Front Door’.” 

“Ah, makes sense,” you say. 

“Mm, you would think but I also have a front door at home...” he adds. 

Your lips tweak in a half-smile as you turn to unlock the bakery door. You pull it open and hold it for him. He thanks you with a dip of his head and angles through with his armful of pans. He enters and you follow him into the darkness. 

“You may lock it behind you... and find the light switch—ah, damn--” 

The pans crash to the floor as you pull the door shut. You twist the latch and feel along the wall for the switch. Your heart is racing with the cacophony of noise. As you find the lights and face the bakery, you find Thor on his knee, panting as he has a hand on an overturned chair and the other on his hip. 

“Argh, I don’t know how many times I’ve told Thrud to put the chairs up,” he growls, “why would she put it here?” He asks the rhetorical question as he rubs his lower back, “she cannot help being her father’s daughter I suppose.” 

He rights the chair first then uses it to haul himself to one foot, then the other. You bend to pick up the golden pan close to you. He bends to do the same and squeaks. Coming from him the noise is both comical and concerning. 

He manages to move himself into the chair and hisses, “ah, forgive me,” he pushes his head back, “I’ve pulled my old college injury.” 

“Just take a minute, it’s okay,” you assure him as you gather up the pans around the entry. You put them on the table near him as he watches with a pained expression. “I think they’re mostly undamaged.” You examine the pan in your hand then look up, “more importantly, you? You sure it’s just an old injury?” 

“Ah, don’t you worry for me. I’m the boss here,” he grits and groans as he makes himself stand. “You’ve got training to do and I’ve got to train you.” 

He moves stiffly and you look down at the pan and hold it up, tilting it to run your finger along the dent. 

“Oh no,” you murmur. 

“Hmmph,” he grunts and moves closer, stooping with sharp inhale to look at the imperfection, “ah, no worries, I can fix that.” He rubs his fingers together, “before I was a baker, I did some work at a metal shop. I’m afraid however they did not approve of me forgetting my mask so often.” 

You frown, you hope he at least has the sense to wear oven mitts. 

“Young and stupid,” he explains, “I like to think I am wiser now. Who knows if it’s true.” 

He favours one hip as he takes a stack of three pans, “let’s get these to the kitchen, then we can begin opening—tasks.” 

You follow him around the counter into the kitchen. He sets down his handful, then you put yours next to him. As he faces you, you put your hands up. 

“Please, I can get the rest,” you insist. 

“I can handle it--” 

“Just relax,” you say, “I can see you’re in pain. I know pain well. Give yourself a minute, okay? I can handle a few pans.” 

He opens his mouth to argue then snaps it shut. He shows his large palms and backs up to lean on the metal table at the center of the kitchen. He winces as he does and you shake your head. You leave him and go to gather up the last of the new tins. 

When you return, he is bracing the metal and stretching his left leg. His back tenses as he does and he groans. He lifts his knee and drops his foot back down heavily. 

“Take it easy,” you say as you place the last of the pans down, “tell me what to do, I can figure it out.” 

“Mm, yes, the rest of the lights... then the safe...” he turns to you, “ah, the key for the safe is marked S...” 

“For ‘safe’,” you figure as you look back to the keyring in your hand. “Got it.” 

“Then we must start the prep. I have loaves proofing in the drawers. They need to go in as soon as possible for opening,” he explains, his voice gritty with agony. 

You nod, “alright, can do.” 

“Too helpful,” he says, “my apologies that you are tending more than the icing.” 

“I’m here to work. Doesn’t matter what,” you assure him. 

You go out and flick on the lights, all but the open sign. Then you dip back into the kitchen to ask about the safe. That’s hidden in what looks like a cupboard across from the ovens. You open it up and he directs you to grab the tray on top. You remember how to balance from your barista days. 

“Earlier,” he says as you count and he inputs the totals into the tablet before him, “when you said you know pain... I recall you mentioned you are a carer for your sister?” 

You nod and swallow, “yeah, but like I said, she’s come a long way. She has bad days but we all do.” 

“Mm, yes, I’m very sorry to hear it. It can’t be easy having to take care of someone so young. Not to mention having to leave her to do just that,” he tisks, “it isn’t fair that you should need to. You let me know if you need anything. I can go without a decorator now and again.” 

“I think she’ll be okay,” you shrug, “really, she’s probably tired of me.” 

“Oh, I don’t think anyone could ever tire of you,” he purrs, “anyone would be lucky to have a woman like you taking care of them.” 

“Maybe,” you utter before you announce the next total and he keys it in, “I wish I could do more for her. Oh, uh, yeah,” you look up at him, “she wanted me to tell you she loved the cookies.” 

He grins and bows his head, “wonderful. And you? How’d you like them?” 

“Delicious,” you proclaim, “I’m lucky I got even a crumb from her though. She devoured them.” 

“Take more tonight. We always have extra,” he says. 

“No, I couldn’t,” you shake your head. 

“You will. It is one of the perks of working here,” he intones as he touches his hip again, “if I can offer her any comfort, even just a batch of cookies, it’ll be worth it.” 

“That’s so sweet of you,” you finish counting and lift the tray. 

“Compensation since you’ll be doing the heavy lifting,” he chortles as he flinches and pulls his hand away from his back, “I should know better by now. I always overdo it.” He glances down at his middle, “I’m certain you could have guessed by looking.” 

[ljz002-world]

Assistant, Part 4

“Look what I’ve got here Michael”, Thomas spoke as Finn and Isaiah were in Thomas’ office already, the oldest present holding up a telegram which he handed Michael who read it before laughing to himself and ditching it back onto the table. “You’re lying.” “I’m not.” Thomas spoke coldly, holding eye-contact with his young cousin who crossed his arms over his chest. “Why’d you give this to me?” Thomas looked at his youngest brother and his friend before nodding towards the door, “Out, both of you.” Once the two younger boys had left Thomas leant back in his chair as he looked smugly at Michael, “To tell you the truth. I thought, if you want to get involved with a girl like Anastasia, you might as well do it while knowing the truth. She’s a flirtatious girl Michael. You can fuck and she won’t care about that. She’d still smile and laugh with other boys, she’ll still flirt with other boys. The fact that you’re fucking her doesn’t change that. And tell me one boy or man who’d pass up on the chance of being with such a beauty? Eh?” “You keep all men away from her.” “I did. But if she wants to play grown up with you, she can. On her own. Why would I continue to keep men away from her when she has you now?”

“So you’re not mad that I’m with your girl?”

“Oh no, I’m fuming”, Thomas said bluntly as he raised his eyebrows, “But she’ll come to her senses soon enough. Finn did, all you have is lust for her. It’ll pass, and when it does, I’ll be here for her. But she’ll come back on her own. Latest when she notices all the negative attention she draws in. When you bring her into danger.”

“And if it doesn’t pass? If I decide to marry her? What then?” “It’ll pass.”

Michael just scoffed with a grin pulling on his lips as he shook his head, “I say it won’t.” “Then I’ll make it pass. Girls like Anastasia get bored easily, she’ll drop you the moment she gets bored.” Michael just shook his head even more, looking out of the window which showed the streets of Small Heath, “Do you have to throw yourself at any and every pretty girl you meet? Like Grace or Lizzie.” As Thomas eyes slightly widened the younger boy let out a laugh, “Pol told me about Grace. When I asked her about Ana. And what you hold for her. She told me about the way you had served with her father in the war. He had left Ana in her care since Ana’s mother had passed not too long after birthing Ana. He didn’t come back. You did and ever since then have been different towards her. Promised her father you’d take care of her.” “I went to war Michael, I served alongside Anastasia’s father, he was a good man. He told me to protect his little girl if he dies. I’m doing that, but sometimes, kids have to learn the hard way. So go on Michael. Break Anastasia’s heart. Shatter her love, or whatever you think she gives you.”

“I’ve been waiting for you!”, the girl cheered as she looked at Michael, “Haven’t seen you at work. Where’ve you been?” “Had some other business to attend to with Tommy.” Anastasia nodded as Michael took off his cap and coat once he was inside the girl’s home. “What business?” “Blinder business.” “Odd. Mr. Shelby didn’t tell me about it.” “You know about the illegal side of business?” “Who do you think keeps it all in check and writes it off? It sure as hell ain’t Mr. Shelby or Arthur.” “I have to ask you something. Something important.” “Huh? Sure ask ahead”, Anastasia muttered as she walked into her living room, a small plate with biscuits on it in hand. She had gotten those earlier from the baker. Considering that Anastasia couldn’t live without her biscuits she had gotten herself a cat to keep the mice away.

“What do you feel for Tommy?”

“What a silly question”, Ana smiled as she put the plate down by the small table in front of the fire-place. “Answer it.” “Why so serious?”, the girl huffed, “He’s a family-friend, my dad used to work for the Shelbys before the war. Mr. Shelby returned, my dad didn’t. Pol took care of me during the war, until I started working Mr. Shelby supported me. Why?” “Did you ever have anything with Tommy?” “Romantically? No. He always tried to boss me around and treat me like I’m below him. I don’t like that.” Michael nodded, “And now?” “He still thinks I’m that young girl he has to protect and boss around. I guess he’ll never stop doing that.” “He’d stop if you marry someone. You’d be free of Tommy.” “Who? No boys dare to go out with me. Who’d marry me?” “I’d do.” “Don’t act silly”, Anastasia said, her heartbeat quickening.

She liked Michael a lot, she really did. He treated her like a normal human being. But did she want to marry him? No. She wanted to live. Wanted to live freely. If she would marry a weak man she could. A man who’d let her walk all over him and let her keep her freedom. But she knew the truth. If Michael wanted to marry her, he would. He was a Shelby on his mother’s side after all, and telling a Shelby no could end in your death.

“I’m not”, Michael stayed stern, “You want to be free of Tommy and his nagging? Marry me.” “His nagging is not that bad-“ “Marry me.” “Michael”, Anastasia began, looking down at her hands, her voice almost pleading with the boy, “We don’t even know each other that long. You- You’re rushing it a bit, no?” “I’m a man who knows what he wants. And I want to marry you.” “But I don’t.” Michael raised an eyebrow, “Why not? Tell me one man more qualified to marry you.” “Thomas…”

At this Michael scoffed rolling his eyes, “You complain about him wanting him to get off your back, but you’d rather marry him than me? I have been nothing but nice to you, while he just commands you around.” Anastasia looked out of her window, feeling her hands getting clammy, “Thomas is a wise man, as much as I hate his guts sometimes, he knows what he does-“ “What did he tell you about me?” “I should be asking you that-“

“Answer my fucking question”, Michael got up and pushed Anastasia against the wall, caging her in between his arms, “Answer my question sweetheart.” “He told me that you’re reckless, you don’t know the ways around here, how to behave with the people here. How to act with the people who know the Peaky Blinders, the people Mr. Shelby does business with. I don’t want to get caught up in trouble.” “As if Thomas wouldn’t get you into troubles.” “I know that he can get me out of that trouble safely.”

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