#and when he and mate meet in the evening after he loses his job

[coco-loco-nut]

Revelations

pairing: Daniel x reader

summary: Daniel casually mentions his wife after 11 YEARS OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. Danny Ric comeback. 2025 season, he is back on rbr

request are open pookie masterlist part 2

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Being an engineer for Red Bull was something else. You have been with them since you graduated college, and truthfully you never want to leave, the team is your family, having been with them for 11 years.

You met your husband through your job, both starting at the ripe old age of 23, and despite the potential HR violations, Christian Horner practically set the two of you up on a date after being oblivious about each other’s crushes. Thus began Red Bull’s best kept secret.

“Happy 10 years, Danny,” you kiss your husband, him watching you analyze data. Christian made him promise to never use you as a mole, and the two of you very quickly agreed. Even when he was on Renault and McLaren, work talk was kept quiet. Daniel had a great season last year and was brought back to Red Bull Racing, Christian promoted you to be his race engineer, knowing Daniel would listen to you.

“Happy 10 years, my love,” he hugs you tight. Your children are home in Australia with their grandparents for the weekend.

“Good morning, Ricciardos. Happy wedding anniversary,” Christian greets you, sitting for the pre-race meeting. Christian celebrates your wedding anniversary almost as much as you do, but he is a part of the family. He officiated your wedding at this track 10 years ago today, and he is the godfather of your eldest.

“Good morning, I printed out some data sheets so we can determine strategy. I noticed some unusual tyre degradation, while it could be from the unusually high track temperatures yesterday, it is something we should plan for today,” you start, passing out the papers. Daniel will never not be able to admire you. Sometimes he misses what people say because he stares at you, the exact reason Christian helped get you two together.

“Let’s grab some coffee then go on a track walk,” Daniel holds his hand out to you after the strategy meeting, you happily take it. After your lap around the track, you meet with the other engineers while Daniel warms up and does media. As you are watching the F2 race for valuable data, someone from PR comes over to you.

“Watch this clip,” she says and you oblige.

Daniel, you seem in better spirits than usual, care to share?

I don’t know mate, I am usually a pretty happy person.

Here I was thinking that maybe you finally had a girlfriend

Nah, I don’t think my wife would be happy about that… I wasn’t really supposed to say that. If you are watching, sorry! I’ll make it up to you, love.

Well, I hope there isn’t a couch in your future. Good luck today.

Thanks, but she’s put up with me for 11 years, I doubt there will be a couch in the future.

“Oh, he might have the couch tonight,” you laugh a little, honestly surprised it took 11 years for him to accidentally say something.

“Looking back at all the photos, he is wearing a wedding ring, how did we not see that?” You hear one of the Mercedes drivers say outside the garage.

“You saw the video?” Daniel asks as you playfully glare at him.

“I did. I have a winning strategy for you, so maybe you can move off the couch tonight. Lose and you stay there longer,” you tease. Being his race engineer helps so much because you can subtly say things and no one picks it up, and any interactions between you seem normal.

“Yes, Mrs. Ricciardo,” he smiles and goes to get changed for the race.

Last car in, good luck Daniel

I don’t need luck, I have you guiding my race

Ok, Daniel, whatever you say

The strategy works out well, and planning for the hotter heat was a smart move. Christian hasn’t told you not to race with Max, so you push Daniel for the overtake.

“Come on, honey badger,” you whisper. Daniel has had the better strategy and better pacing, all day so he easily overtakes and keeps the lead through the final five laps.

Okay Daniel, last lap, Verstappen behind, keep the pace.

Does this mean I’m off the couch?

Focus.

Sorry.

And that’s P1, P1 very good, Daniel. Red Bull 1-2. You are officially off of the couch.

LET’S GO! Thank you team! I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Thanks for the brilliant strategy, and for letting me off the couch. Best wife ever.

Mhmm. Happy 10 years. Parc Ferme is clear for you, pull in so the team can celebrate.

Let’s just say that F1 TV streaming your radio broke the internet, and the drivers when they all got out of their cars and into the garages. You followed the team to wear Daniel was parking and the team pushed you to the front. Daniel celebrated there with the team, taking his helmet off and kissing you. The team wolf whistles around you.

“Go to the podium, we will celebrate with you there,” you push him in the direction of where he needs to go. Unknowingly to Daniel, Red Bull chooses you to represent them for the Constructors Trophy.

“Mate, how did you keep that a secret?” Oscar asks Daniel in the debrief room.

“It wasn’t much of a secret. Everyone in Red Bull knows most of the relationship,” Max says and Daniel nods along.

“Honestly, I don’t know how people didn’t know,” Daniel laughs. The FIA tells them to start heading out to the Podium and Daniel searches the crowd for you when he steps out, but can’t find you. He’s shocked but extremely delighted when you step out and stand beside Oscar for the Constructors trophy. The mischievous glint in his eye is a loud warning that you will be sprayed with champagne. You happily stand through the national anthems, clap when Daniel is handed the trophy, and beam with joy as you are handed the second trophy. Soon enough you are presented with champagne and the go ahead to spray it is given.

“Max!” you squeal and hide behind him as you both spray Daniel.

“Quit hiding my wife!” Daniel laughs and in a split second, your cover is gone as Max moves to spray Oscar. You and Daniel both pour the champagne in each other’s mouth.

“Ew, that’s almost as bad as if you guys were to kiss,” Max laughs. Daniel gives you a devilish smile, pulling you close to him and capturing you lips with his.

“The kids are going to be so grossed out,” you laugh and Oscar looks almost horrified.

“THE KIDS?!”

[goldengirliez]

TIPSY MIKEY. We all stan a cute, tipsy Mikey.

09:53 pm

Nighttime is the most amazing part of the day. You can give yourself the attention you deserve, taking care of yourself, watching your favourite show, preparing a nourishing meal... All of this after the frenzy of the day, the heat of the city, the infinite traffic jams, and the overwhelmingness of your daily job.

Once you get your favourite shirt covering you up, you can't help but sigh contently, letting the perfume of the clothing fill your nostrils, the softness of the cotton fabric gently caressing your skin and the white colour of the tissue soothes your tired eyes.

His shirts are always your anchor after a long day when you haven't been able to meet. After a whole week you and your boyfriend, Mikey, haven't been able to meet because of his busy schedule due to an upcoming race and you being buried deep down the pit of work and hectic everyday life.

Just when you're about to get into the covers and call it a day, some motherfucker dares to ring the bell of your apartment, knocking at your door mercilessly. It's almost 10 pm, who could it possibly be?!

Stomping your feet towards the door of your apartment, you rub your eyes in a pissed manner, the lotion you put on your face earlier slightly oiling the tip of your fingers. When you open the door with a frustrated sigh, your eyes go from annoyed to surprised in less than two seconds. You surely didn't expect to find Draken, Mikey's best friend since the old days and a member of his racing team, looking at you apologetically while holding your boyfriend on his back, piggyback style.

You don't question him, despite wanting to do so, and let the beefy man in. He drops Mikey on your couch and he yelps, whining a slurred and slightly annoyed "Ken-chinnnnn".

You and Draken share a look that says it all: he was drunk, dead-drunk, cockeyed.

"A week is left before the big day, everyone wanted to meet up before having to go all in until the race day" Drake sighs and scratches the back of his head.

You have never seen him so shy, he must be quite tipsy too but you decide not to point that out, showing mercy for his virility.

"I'm sorry about this- he kept on blabbering about how much he missed you so I thought this was the best thing to do".

Of course, it is. Mikey's addicted to you. He loves you so much and every time he can't meet you even for a short period, not being able to hold you close and pepper your face in kisses, he loses it and does stupid things like... Getting drunk with his friends.

You can feel a sudden weight on your shoulder, strong arms wrapping around your waist like a snake and a stinging smell of mixed alcohol make its way through your senses.

Mikey's cheek is squished against your shoulder and he looks at you with big, doe onyx orbs and sweet, plump pouty lips.

His obsidian hair is a bit messy, and his cheek is slightly rosy due to his tipsiness.

You could devour him. He looks so adorable.

"Babyyy, is this really you? Fuck– I've missed you so much" winey voice and teary eyes. He always acts like a child whenever he's drunk and that never fails to put your heart in danger because of cuteness overload.

"You did great Draken, I'll take care of him, thank you for bringing him here" you smile at your boyfriend's best mate and motion him to go before Mikey throws off a tantrum on how much he had missed you and how you should have answered to his messages more often.

Just when he gets out you sigh and look at your boyfriend who's snuggling against you (probably because he's not even capable of standing still by himself), caressing your warm skin with the tip of his nose.

“Why haven't you answered any of my calls today, baby?”

It is surprising how his voice rings in your years, shaking your very core: his slurred and childish words from before have been completely replaced by a deep, low and shy whisper. He sounds pained.

You can feel the warmth of his muscles flex on your abdomen as he brings you closer to him until your back is touching his toned chest. His heart is thrumming against his ribcage, you can feel it.

“Can't focus on anything without hearing from you for so long… I get worried too, ya know?”

Your Manjiro has always been this way, whenever he got tipsy, he would always become more clingy, whinier and vulnerable.

Despite this, his charm is undeniable and you can't help but pend from his lips when his words flow effortlessly like the smoothest cream. Listening to him and absorbing his body heat is like indulging in the sweetest thing you might ever taste.

He doesn't do it on purpose, such antics become natural when he's with you: your magnecticity touches every cell of his body and makes it act on its own, getting on the right frequency just because you are there.

You're everything he needs and all he has always had.

You can't blame him for behaving like this, like the lovestruck man he is.

“I’m so sorry, ‘jiro, I've been busy… but I'll make it up to you, okay?”

His body weight leans more towards you as he mutters a slurred ‘you better'. Despite wanting to sound pissed, the smile on his face is clear as day even if his face is hidden in the curve on your neck. His satisfied tone betrays him: maybe wearing one of his shirts was a start to make up for the lost time already.

As your hand smoothes over his liquorice locks you can feel a damp, hot sensation on your neck: his hot breath reaches your skin as he kisses it in both relief and contentment, exciting your nostrils with a pungent hint of alcohol.

Once your hands make contact with his back in a fluid, circular motion, you can feel Mikey's muscles tense and melt in your hold in less than a few seconds: you prepared him a warm bath to help him ease up his paranoia about “you avoiding him” and wash off that nauseous smell of liquor that was making you sick.

The water ripples underneath his body, circular little waves expand and dissolve among the warm water whenever he moves.

Letting the fragrance of the oils and the body wash hug his senses, filling his thoughts with your gentle hand scratching his scalp deliciously with the tip of your fingers and your idyllic voice that echoes through the bathroom walls he feels at peace.

He breathes in deeply every time, his toned chest rises and falls at a slow pace and the droplets of water kiss every inch of the skin for you, sliding down his muscles deliciously.

With his eyes gently closed and his silky, obsidian hair sticking to his forehead slightly, he looks like a greek god, just for you to be blessed with.

You can't help but sigh happily as his consciousness clears up with every passing minute: he starts to make more coherent sentences, talking to you about his week and complaining about his team that put his life in such a hectic frenzy for the upcoming race that he hardly had time to check up on you.

“The only way I thought I could see you was by taking advantage of this dinner: I mean, no one wants to deal with a drunk, complaining pain the ass before the race, yeah? They had to let me come here, I'm a genius!”

You love him for that.

The soft thuds that jog up the stairs are unmistakable: as Mikey reaches your room and opens the door, you are already waiting for him in the bed, keeping the sheets warm for him, and making a comforting nest for his arrival.

He insisted that you wait for him upstairs as he brushed his teeth and dressed up, claiming that he wasn't that tipsy to be looked out for like the big baby he is.

Let's give him credit for that, he was right.

His face seems to be sparking under the warm light of your abatjour, the freshness of his body reaches your nose more and more as he walks closer to the bed, inching towards your face so you can breathe in and taste the minty scent of his mouth onto yours with a sloppy kiss.

When your hand guides its way on his collarbone, tickling his damp skin with your palm, he wastes no time hovering over your frame completely and crushing his weight on top of you, making the soft mattress sink lower underneath your bodies.

Even if Mikey has always had a quite smaller frame compared to other guys, he never fails to knock the breath off your lungs when he catches you by surprise. He might have a thing for that small puff of air that leaves your chest unexpectedly, making you yelp in such a delightful tone… but he would never admit that out loud. Where would the fun be otherwise?

Snuggling against your body, you can feel the tip of his nose playfully rub against your cheek as he kisses your jaw with a small movement of his mouth, the softest flower petals caressing your tender skin graciously.

Useless to say that you'll sleep in that position for the whole night and you have no room to argue, not when your man starts to mindlessly mumble sweet nonsense under his breath and ask questions about your week until late that night.

Mikey's head is still a bit fuzzy, his senses don't connect down on earth fully due to the fragmentary memories of the embarrassing, confused events that happened that night tormenting his subconscious, but he doesn't care: as long as your voice lulls him to sleep, all his repressed pre-race anxieties melt away; every fear of having missed out on a big event of your life that week dissolves into thin air; every inch of the emptiness that your absence brought fills up gradually, leaving him giddy inside.

He doesn't deny it, Manjiro admits that he can be whiney, childish and reckless (idiotic actually): getting drunk and causing a scene at the restaurant, screaming at the waiter because he didn't receive a flag on his entrecôte and spilling the carafe of wine on the white table cloth in front of the team before falling from the chair wasn’t the best idea to get him to your house, especially since he's an emergent public figure in the motorcycle racing industry.

But, honestly, that's all worth it if he gets to spend time with you once again, babying him the way he deserves.

English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes!

This has been in my drafts for way too long, so I decided to finish it– I'm not that proud of the outcome but I hope it brought a smile on your face regardless!

Sending y'all hugs. ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

©GOLDENGIRLIEZ do not repost or modify on any platform.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Curtain call - Spencer Reid

Summary: You're an actress. Opening night of the show, a cast member is killed. FBI finds out you were the real target... Warnings: mentions of blood, a kiss 2k wc

Adrenaline rushes through you as you run through the wings, catching your breath as you made your way across the backstage. You had just about a minute until you had to be on stage once more, the big number now coming to its end. Rushing into the costume room, you barely acknowledge the one thing obviously wrong with the messy space until you reach for your next costume on the rack, moving all other clothes aside to find it. There’s something inappropriate about your outfit. One, there isn’t supposed to be any blood on it yet there it is, a bloody handprint, running all the way to the bottom of your dress. That’s when your eyes trail down to the bottom of the clothing rack, where you get a clear look of the body lying underneath the row of clothes. Blood was soaking through her entire costume and her skin was turning blue. It’s only when someone runs into the changing room at risk of missing your cue that you hear a gut-wrenching scream. Later, you’d be told that it had come from you. 

Being called into the theatre the next day for “mandatory debriefing” was not what you had expected after such a traumatic experience, but you came in nonetheless, afraid of losing the job after the scene you had caused the night before. After screaming bloody-murder, half the cast ran into the changing rooms to find you hysterically crying over your cast mate’s body, holding her cold hand. The audience had been scared half to death, and after the authorities made it onto the scene, everyone was evacuated out of the theatre. By finding her body, you had cost everyone a night of the show. 

But once you got to the theatre, angry yellow tape cutting off access to the public, you were approached by a handsome man with a serious face and confident posture, offering you his hand even as he walked towards you. “Miss L/N? It’s nice to meet you, I’m Agent Morgan with the FBI, and this is Dr. Reid. We just have a few questions we would like you to answer for us.” Agent Morgan had been a very kind man, who told you every formality that was written in the book, however the man he had introduced to you as Dr. Reid caught your attention in a way you weren’t aware would be good or bad. Dr. Reid stayed silent as Agent Morgan questioned you, deeply staring at you as you answered all that was thrown at you, shooting you quizzical looks every now and then and glancing down at your fidgety hands. 

“Thank you so much for all this Miss L/N, that’s all our questions.” As Agent Morgan began to stand, Dr. Reid looked up at you, “Actually, I do have a few more if you don’t mind.” Agent Morgan shot his partner a confused look, slowly backing down into his seat once more. “Do you know why Evelyn was in the costume room when she was? With my limited understanding of the play, I was under the impression that her character didn’t have any costume changes up to the point you had gotten to before she was killed.” And then those that followed:

“Was anyone other than you supposed to be in the changing rooms at that moment?”

“Is there anyone in the cast who has taken a specific liking or dislike towards you?” 

“Can you remember any specific encounters with anyone as you were going in or out of the theatre?”

“Have you received any eye catching letters from fans recently?” 

Finally, Dr. Reid’s prying had gotten you somewhere, leaving you more terrified than ever, with Agent Morgan reassuring you “It’s just a theory that Dr. Reid has, so we’re only taking precaution. There’s nothing to worry about just yet.” The two agents drove you back to your place where you led them to the cursed fan-letter drawer in your study. "I don't usually read them because there are so many." You admitted, crossing your arms tightly over your torso, observing as the doctor starting frantically pulling letters out of the tidied drawer, eyes briefly scanning the name on the front of each envelope. He threw several to the side, dropping the rest onto the floor after reading the name until nearly ten minutes later, all the letters laid on the floor.

Dr. Reid scrambled to gather the letters he had tossed to the side, standing up hurriedly. You stared at the pile in his hands, glancing back up at the two men for an explanation. "These are all sent from the same person. I'd like to read them and see if I can analyse the language used. I think one of us should stay here with you for the mean time." You nodded at Dr. Reid's words, briefly looking over to his partner for confirmation. "I think Reid should stay here as he looks over the letters." He moved his attention from you to Dr. Reid "You can ask her any questions you might have and it'll be good protection." The partners nodded to each other and almost instantly, Agent Morgan exited the room.

Dr. Reid's hand came up before hesitantly placing it on your shoulder. "Do you mind if I get settled here? Ask some questions?" You shook your head silently before asking "Um, since you'll be here awhile, can I get you something? Coffee?" Dr. Reid nodded, muttering a quiet "That would be lovely." You don't know what it was: maybe the fact that he was here to protect to or trying to save your life, but felt your heart beat in your chest aggressively, as though trying to break through your skin. You brought him coffee, sugar and packets of cream on the side just in case and watched in awe as he emptied out the small cup of sugar. Sweet, just like him.

"Dr. Reid-" "Spencer. Please." You nodded, scooting your chair closer to him as he took a sip of coffee. "Did I make a mistake by not reading these?" The envelopes made loud unfolding noises every time he pulled a letter out of a different one, and he shook his head. "No. I know I wouldn't open so many of these and I have an IQ of 187." You grinned, your chest bubbling with a giggle. Spencer perked up at the sound of your laughter, smiling gently at you. He wasn't trying to joke around, but he was happy to uplift your mood. He studied all the letters laid out in front of him, and immediately noticed a pattern.

'02.02.18, I saw you in Oliver! today, you make an amazing Nancy.'

'14.02.18, I watched you in Oliver! again. You somehow get better the more I see you on stage.'

'07.03.18 I loved you today in the show. I watched the evening show. Did you see me too?'

'17.03.18 I saw your show again. I can be your Bill Sykes if you'd let me."

'11.04.18 I've been waiting anxiously to see you again since Oliver stopped touring. You make a wonderful Veronica.'

'15.04.18 We can be Seventeen together! Let me be your JD.'

"This isn't good." Without any further explanation, he pulled his phone out, dialling a number. "He's using obsessive language and saw her in Oliver! and Heathers, both of which have abusive partners who either kill or try to kill who Y/N's playing. You need to go visit his address right now." Coincidentally, just as he hangs up the phone, your doorbell rings. Your blood runs cold and you stand up instantly, but Spencer steps in front of you, blocking you from going anywhere. "Stay behind me, but stay close." He mutters, pulling his gun from his hostler. Spencer watches you closely, and the profiler in him notices how your breath begins to speed up and your eyes glaze with tears.

One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek and he whispers "Breathe. I'm right here so no one's going to hurt you, okay?" You nod, staying as close as you can to him without touching him until you get to the front door. He peeks through the peephole and his shoulders drop as an "Oh." Escapes him. He opens and closes the door faster than you can register, now holding another letter in his hand, identical to all the ones scattered on your desk.

Six words are written on the letter when Spencer opens him, and his face pales. It was meant to be you. Spencer grabs your hand, dragging you back into your study - the one room in your house with no windows. He locks the door, pressing numbers on his phone again before it's against his ear. "It's definitely him, he just sent another letter. We're in her study but he might be around the premises or returning to his house. I don't plan on getting her out of the study until you get him." The second the words leave his mouth you're processing them, and tears are welling in your eyes once more.

The sound of sniffling gets his attention back to you and his hands are gently coming up to your shoulders, leading you to sit down in a chair. "I'm scared." You whisper helplessly, looking up at the doctor. He crouches down to your level, and hand on your knee. "Hey, what did I say before?" He looks at you intently waiting for an answer. "No one's gonna hurt me." Spencer nods, a soft smile gracing his features. "Yes, exactly. No one's going to hurt you. I have an excellent team looking for that son of a bitch as we speak and I am right here with you."

You nod, not entirely convinced, which he can apparently tell, so he continues with "Come on, look at these muscles. You think anyone will get to you when I have these babies?" His tongue pokes out slightly as he flexes his arms, which are actually more toned than you realise. You laugh again and feel yourself launching your body at him before you can stop yourself, pulling him into a tight hug. He hesitates, but eventually, his arms are pulling you even closer to him, one hand rubbing circles on your back to soothe you. You break the hug, but before you can help yourself, you realise you're leaning into him, pressing your lips against his in a passionate kiss. To your surprise he immediately returns the kiss, his hands cupping your face as he deepens the kiss.

He's panting when he pulls away from you, whispering "This is unprofessional. I'm sorry, I like you, I do, but I shouldn't." Cocking your head to the side, you can't help but smile slightly. "It's only unprofessional for one of us so technically it's not unprofessional at all." His face twists in confusion as he tries processing your words. "That's not how it wo-mmph." the rest of his words are muffled by the second kiss you give him, which you feel him melting into as one of his hands comes to rest on your hip. "After- after the case. After the case, I'll take you on a date." His face falls at his own words, his face reddening in embarrassment. "That is- I mean that's only if you want. I wouldn't take you on a date if you didn't want to, that's totally fine."

The door to the study slams open just as he finishes rambling and you scream in fear, tightly gripping Spencer's hand and turning around expecting to find a middle aged balding creep, only to find a much sexier bald man, putting his gun back in his hostler. "Did you not hear us screaming for you? We thought he might have gotten to you before we found him. Ms. L/N, you're safe, we found him." Agent Morgan's gaze slowly trails to where your hand tightly grips Spencer's, and when he sees the flush on Spencer's face he makes a "Huh" noise, before walking out of the room once more.

taglist: @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist

[cumikering]

F1 John Price x reader 4

2.8k | fluff, mentions of cheating John Price and the 50 billion other Johns of the UK (part 1) (part 5)

The bed shifted. A rustle, a thud. Distant whispers.

“… Yeah, sorry, John’s here now… Yeah? Okay, see you, love.”

John looked up with a soft groan when the door cracked open. “Sweetheart?” he croaked.

He squinted in the late morning sun, but he didn’t miss how wonderful you looked in his shirt, all soft skin and a radiant face as you climbed back into the comfort of his arms.

 “Sorry for waking you.” You kissed his cheek. “Harley wants to meet for lunch instead. That fine? We’ve got nothing planned, have we?”

“Of course, but I thought it was supposed to be dinner. Is she alright?”

“Yeah, her tattoo appointment got pushed back so she figured we should meet before.”

He remembered the photos you showed him, of your good friend from school with the pink hair and an array of colourful tattoos. You said she made the best cupcakes.

“And she just told me- I guess it’s a little silly.” You pulled a face. “But we were huge fans of this singer back in the day, and he just got exposed for cheating on his wife. I know it’s none of our business, but it’s just really sad to see. People are saying if a supermodel gets cheated on, us regular women stand no chance.”

He hummed. “You believe that?”

“No, it just depends if you’re faithful or not, but all cheaters are liars. And it doesn’t help that powerful people always have options lined up, but that’s just something you avoid, right?”

His body tensed. “W- what do you mean?”

“Just don’t be with someone who’s famous or away a lot. I mean… This is probably my insecurities talking, but it’s not for me.”

“There are plenty who are just as happy despite the distance.”

“That’s true.” You paused. “I didn’t tell you, but there was this bloke a while ago, had always been upfront about how difficult it could get with his job. I thought I could handle it. He didn’t hurt me or anything, but I don’t think I want to put myself in that situation again,” you said wistfully. “Dating celebrities must be even worse. On top of that, losing your privacy, being compared and criticised endlessly…”

“No, but do you really think it won’t work out?” He sat up, gripping your shoulders. “They’re just normal people behind all the drama, probably don’t even want any of it. Don’t you think they deserve a fair chance?”

“Why are you so riled up, John? Are you famous?” you teased. “You surely are handsome enough to be a model.”

He lay back down, avoiding your gaze as heat crept up his neck.

What the bloody fuck just happened? He was supposed to tell you everything, arrange a meet with his mates and maybe have you stay the night at his, but the very first conversation you had for the day turned out to be an atomic bomb.

“Well, you’re up now. I know it’s closer to lunch, but I’m still making you pancakes. I need you to try the blueberry jam I got you.” You kissed his forehead before making your way out the door.

A lump formed in his throat. Fuck, he was being a hypocrite. He hated that life and there he was trying to drag you into it too.

What had started as him trying to be cautious, innocently laying low had escalated into something else. This was going to look horrible, like he tricked you, especially after last night - it had meant the world to him. But it was never his intention to fool you.

The tide had turned in the blink of an eye. This had been his life for many years, but why the fuck didn’t it occur to him that being with him wasn’t ideal for most people? That no one dreamt of being with someone who was barely home, that this could very well be deal-breaker? If he had been waiting to trust you and let you in, now he was in danger of being left entirely.

“John, you okay?” you asked at the table.

He looked up from his plate and forced a smile. He wanted to throw up. Your pancakes were wonderful as always, but he could barely stomach them with these thoughts running through his head.

“I’m sorry, did you want to do something today?” You placed your fork down. “I should have asked you before saying yes to Harley.”

“No, no. It’s not that. I’m just… Thinking, is all.” He reached across the table for your hand. “I can drop you off if you want?”

But all was not lost. Telling you now would only make the situation appear more disheartening than it was. He just had to prove to you that a relationship with him - no, he would be different. When he eased back into the season in a few weeks time, you wouldn’t even feel anything had changed – he’d make sure to show you the distance was nothing to worry about. He’d tell you then, and you’d be far less apprehensive.

Yeah, he could do that. If three weeks apart for Christmas was not a problem, being apart 4-5 days, twice a month would be a child’s play.

You agreed to him driving you to Harley’s, but even then he white-knuckled the steering wheel and barely spoke a word.

“John, did I do something?” You turned to him when he pulled up.

“No- sorry I’ve been distracted.” He chuckled sheepishly.

“Are you sure? You know you can tell me, yeah?”

“Yes, I promise.” He pressed your hand to his lips.

You have him a small smile before you exited his car, hesitation in your eyes.

The little voice in his head knew he was stretching his façade. It was selfish, perhaps devious - he didn’t want to admit, that he still kept you in the dark even after you expressed your aversion. He had no excuse, but he wasn’t about to let this end, not before he tried his absolute best.

You wouldn’t be mad, would you? His heart was in the right place - he just wanted to save you the heartache. How he was going to make this work was his burden to carry. He just needed you to sit back and be patient with him while he figured things out.

Let me know if you want me to pick you up. Enjoy lunch x

The cold of winter mellowed as February inched closer to March. John had been counting down the days to the start of the season. He’d missed the ecstasy of speed and the itch to get behind the wheel only seemed to worsen.

He started ordering cookies for his team again weekly. He would take any excuse to see you one extra time, especially when you’d send him off with an off-menu drink and a kiss in front of his car.

What he severely underestimated though, was how cramped his schedule was going to be in preparation for the season with never-ending meetings, tests and interviews. He still made time to see you of course, but more often than not he’d be late to pick you up with impromptu events getting in his way.

That night was one of those times again.

“John, you know you can tell me if you can’t make it, yeah?” you said as you locked up your shop. “I really don’t mind going home on my own.”

“No, I want to, really.” He gave your hand a squeeze. “It’s just work has been ultra busy.”

You smiled. “Should I just come to yours this Friday? Let me return the favour.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, love. Like I said, I don’t mind the drive.”

You’d been asking more often, and John was only a few more questions away from breaking entirely. He couldn’t keep doing this to you. The lump in this throat was palpable each time your smile flickered when he gave you yet another excuse to not visit.

Despite the delay, John took you out for dinner at the place you’d wanted to try. You enjoyed yourself regardless, even that it was too late to catch a film after like he’d promised. Instead, you shared an ice cream and strolled along the streets among the thinning crowd.

At the end of the night, as he held the door open as you slipped into his GTI, someone yelled out his name. He turned to the source of the voice, and it was then the consecutive camera flashes stunned him. He quickly shut your door, jumped to his seat and drove away.

“Did someone call out for you?”

“To be fair, half of the men in the UK are called John.” He shrugged, making you chuckle.

With the thick beard, cap and face mask, the chances of paparazzi recognising him were slim to none, but there he was. The man had been a few metres behind the car - he must have only caught John’s side and your back. Regardless, he prayed the photos were shit enough to not make it online, let alone to anyone who might recognise you, and therefore him.

He swallowed and peered at you. “Love, I’m, uh… Heading to Bahrain for work next Wednesday.”

“Oh, how long?”

“I’ll be back Monday.”

“Okay.” You patted his thigh with a smile. “If you need anything for the trip, let me know if I can help.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. At least that went fine.

John held off shaving until the very last night before he left London for pre-season testing on the last weekend of February. It was always bittersweet to erase the months of effort, but this time it symbolised more than the beginning of the season.

Things weren’t going to be as easy with his schedule back in full swing, but he was confident. Everything would be alright and he’d be able to come clean in no time at all.

John called you at the end of each night, to make up for barely responding during the day. You’d tell him about your day, send him pictures of your meals and the new cookie flavours you tried baking at the shop.

On Sunday, you had JP with you at breakfast. ‘He asked for pancakes,’ you said. You served him a stack of tiny pancakes topped with a singular blueberry on an upside down teacup with a shot of milk on the side. He’d grinned at the photo, but most of all, he wanted to cry at how precious you were.

See, distance was not a problem for you and him – everything was fine. So on Monday night at your dining table, what you said caught him off guard.

“John- I just,” you began, moving your food mindlessly with your fork. “I don’t want to be clingy or demanding, but it’s been over three months. I don’t know where you live, I’ve never met any of your friends.” Your eyes met his. “Tell me I’m not unreasonable for wanting to know.”

“You’re not unreasonable at all.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, love. It’s not that I don’t want to, but for now I’m uncomfortable showing you where I live.”

“You know I don’t care whatever it looks like, yeah?”

“Could you give me some more time? I promise to take you when I’m ready. Please give me a few more weeks.”

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes, and rightfully so. He had turned down each and every attempt to ‘know’ more of him.

Guilt continued to singe him. It was true that the coward dies a thousand deaths but the valiant one. He’d only hurt once for telling the truth, but now that the truth could drive you away from him, he couldn’t risk it.

“Also,” he winced. “I’m flying to Bahrain again on Wednesday.”

You frowned. “You literally were just there today.”

He couldn’t have picked a better time to tell you, could he? Did he have to keep breaking the news to you every week and watch the smile fall off the face of his favourite woman?

“Well, the team stayed there, but I thought I wanted to see you for a bit. I mean- two nights, that’s better than nothing.”

You laid your fork down and gave him a sympathetic look. You sighed before getting out of your seat. For a second he thought you were going to leave, but you went over and wrapped your arms around him as he was still seated.

“You don’t have to do that, John.” You held him against your chest. “I know it’s your job, and I’m not trying to make a fuss about it.”

“I want to,” he mumbled, closing his eyes.

It was silly to admit it, but he’d grown terribly used to seeing you almost every day, sharing meals with you, waking up with his arms around you. He didn’t have the strength to be apart for so long.

Slumber inched closer and the rise and fall of his bare chest slowed under your cheek. He kissed the top of your head, pulling the comforter closer over your exposed shoulders.

“I enjoy seeing more of your handsome face, but I miss your beard already,” you muttered sleepily.

He let out a soft chuckle. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“First race of the season, eh!” Gaz slapped John on the back before plopping down onto the couch next to him. “Will we finally meet her?”

In the hospitality suite, it was the first time they had some quiet since he arrived in Bahrain.

He sighed. “Not yet.”

“Aw, thought it’s official now with your public appearance.”

“What?” He whipped to his teammate. “What are you talking about?”

“The photos. Have you not seen?” He pulled up an article.

Incognito John Price spotted with an unknown woman

The McLaren driver was recently seen strolling hand-in-hand with a mystery woman, sparking speculation among fans on social media. Though nothing is confirmed yet, John has been spotted multiple times with the same woman around the city, adding to the intrigue surrounding their relationship. For the outing, the Scouse opted for a casual ensemble as he’s often seen in, donning a black baseball cap and a matching face mask…

“Who the bloody fuck cares what I’m wearing?” he muttered under his breath.

He scrolled further down, finding photos of the both of you taken in bursts. A set were of you holding hands while walking down the street, the bloom of your laugh at something he said perfectly captured in the photographs. Some where he pulled his mask down to kiss you with an arm wrapped around your waist as you clung onto his bicep. And the last few were of him looking absolutely aghast in the flash as he held the car door for you before driving away.

“You look like shit in the last one though.” Kyle winced. “Like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yeah,” he answered dryly, tossing the phone back to Gaz. “You’d probably look the same way if someone howled out your name and took your photos in the same second.”

John didn’t bother going through the sea of comments, not wanting to know what unsavoury remarks he was only going to find. He didn’t even realise the man the other day took so many photos. His heart melted at how lovely you looked in the candid pictures with your radiant smile - his favourite state of you, but his stomach churned at the same time.

How long hid he follow you? Spotted multiple times - did that mean there were other photos of the both of you floating around online? At least half of your face was obscured in the shots, but someone who knew you could very much recognise you regardless.

John Sloane was running out of time. There was only one way this was going. The truth had to come out, and it was his choice if he wanted it to explode and destroy what he had with you, or come from him, wrapped as best he could.

But he had time. He only needed a few more weeks to step up his game and get you used to the schedule, to make the transition as seamless as he could for you.

As always, he texted and called when he could, but he had to admit, he felt it. It wasn’t the same if he didn’t get to hold your hand or wrap his arms around you, because two days were not enough at all to let the craving for you melt away.

His confidence flickered, but it didn’t matter. It was his forte after all – his whole life had revolved around relentlessly pushing forward despite how painful it was.

And so he wasn’t giving up. Not on you, not this soon.

Masterlist

@tiredmetalenthusiast @le16erc @kyletogaz @asbestos-n-asbesties @two-autumns

@juicyjujuuu @the-darling-fishy @dahlia-reads @nocturnalreader106 @princessdaniiiii

@freshlemontea @sadcowboyhours @hungrycrazy @hope69world @shinymriver

@buckyboeducky @eve-lie @cumhero0 @ducks118 @readreblogfics

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Broken Chords

Hozier x fem!reader

Author's note: this got out of hand and became something it wasn't supposed to be. Maybe there will be more? Idk maybe if everyone doesn't hate it

Author's note #2: (Just to add a shameless plug to this note; for my other Hozier works, check out my AO3)

Summary: It's been years since their break-up, and still, Y/n and Andrew just can't seem to let go of each other.

Warnings: SMUT/NSFW, Angst

Andrew would like to think he knows himself pretty fucking well. He knows what he likes, what he doesn’t. He knows when something’s bad for him. Tequila, ice cream after dark……her.

She is bad for him.

So why can’t he ever seem to remember that when it matters most? When he's home alone after spending months surrounded by people. When he’s out drinking with his mates, he smells a familiar perfume. When they’re both at the same wedding, he starts thinking “maybe if things were different….”

She always looks so good in green, especially darker tones so its no wonder that's the colour she’s chosen this evening. Andrew knows that dress too, she bought it for a charity event they attended together a couple years ago. He distinctly remembers seeing her in it for the first time, the way he drew in a sharp breath, the way the silky fabric felt under his palm when she asked him to zip it up – the thrill he got when it pooled at her feet after he'd peeled it off her.

Y/n must feel his eyes lingering on her from across the room, because after a handful of seconds she turns and their gazes meet. He knows that’s his cue to look away and do a terrible job of pretending that he hasn’t noticed her, but he doesn't because she’s something of a siren and he loses all sense when they’re in the same room.

Taking a sip of his whiskey, he swallows harshly, holding her gaze over the rim of his glass. She's absently running a manicured finger around the top of hers, and he remembers that its something she does unconsciously. He wants to smile, or wave, or do something that constitutes more than just standing there like an idiot, but he can’t. He can’t do anything but think about what it would be like if they’d gone there together.

She’d ask him to dance and he’d say no at first but cave no more than a minute later because even if he has two left feet, he loves how it feels when she rests her head on his chest. He’d watch his friends get married and think about all the times his mother suggested making Y/n his wife – but not say a word of it to either of them because he doesn't think he’s ready to take that step. They’d go home together, and Andrew would carry her inside, because she took off her heels in the car and the gravel on the driveway makes her feet hurt.

Upstairs, in their bedroom, Y/n would push off his coat and comment on how she likes seeing him dressed up like that, and then he would inch that green dress off her shoulders and it would stay on the floor, next to his suit coat, until late the next morning.

But he’s not there with her. Though, Y/n is approaching him now so he thinks maybe the night is gonna end like that anyway. Because there isn’t a universe made by any God in which he doesn’t find himself tangled up in her. Even if he knows how it ends, even if he knows that she isn’t right for him, even if they’ve broken each other’s hearts half a dozen times by now, he goes back.

“Hey.” She begins simply, with a smile that can't be anything more than polite, “How’ve you been?”

Alive, thinking about you more than I probably should, he wants to say.

“Hey. Ehm, I’ve been alright,” he shrugs, “Just um, workin’.”

“Right, of course. Working.” Working, why is that all that he’s said, surely he could’ve offered a bit more.

“You?” He asks.

Y/n takes a slow sip of her champagne, nodding as she does. “Good, I've been good. Just you know….working.”

“Workin’,” he repeats with a nod that mirrors her own. Its funny how they used to have so much to say to each other. He’s never been a man of many words, and Y/n isn’t exactly the chatty type, but they used to be able to talk for hours without more than a couple minutes of silence. The most mundane thoughts would spark hour long conversations, pillow talk would span well into the am and morning coffee chitchat would keep them at the kitchen table until lunch. There used to be a time where it seemed like his every thought was shared with her, and Y/n did the same.

They lapse into silence for a moment, and when the music changes to something slower and the dj starts encouraging guests to cozy up to their dates, Y/n sets her half empty glass down on the bar just past him. “Do you wanna dance? Just one song, I promise,” she smiles, and that time its beautifully hopeful.

Andrew chuckles hesitantly, “I haven’t gotten any better at it.” In one swing, he finishes off his drink and rests his glass next to hers before offering his hand. Hers is just as small, and just as soft as he remembers

They find a vacant spot amongst the other guests in the area designated for dancing. Instinctively – almost as if the last time they stood together like that was yesterday – Andrew slips his arm around her waist, splaying his hand on the small of her back. The fingers of his other hand are laced with hers, settled near her shoulder as they ease into a slow sway.

“You cut your hair,” Y/n marvels softly upon pulling her head back a little.

“Just took a couple inches off,” he confirms in the same hushed tone.

“It looks good,” Y/n says, and he feels his heart skip a little. Compliments from her always mean more than they would from anyone else, even if its about the same haircut he's been getting since he was twenty-two. “Better than the pictures make it seem,” she adds in a whisper.

Andrew swallows thickly; she’s been keeping up with him, even if they haven’t spoken in months. The thought is strangely comforting because God knows he’s been doing the same. “I heard that you’re seeing someone.” And by heard, he means read.

“I’m not,” Y/n shakes her shoulders slightly. “I mean…I was, but I’m not anymore.”

He knits his brows, hoping to hide his relief, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t serious,” Y/n licks her lips, “Are you?”

“Am I serious?”

She chuckles softly, the sound airy and musical. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Oh!” He scoffs. What the hell is he thinking? “No,” he shakes his head, “ehm, I've been on a couple dates,” set up by friends who are hoping to help him move on, “but they didn’t work out.”

Her next question stuns him; “why?”

The song changes, but neither of them make a move to pull away. Thinking on her question, Andrew fumbles with his words. Certainly he can’t tell her that its because he compares every woman to her and none of them ever come close. So he decides to go with a poorly strung together lie. “Just….. incompatible, I guess.” When Y/n offers nothing more than a hum in response, he tentatively probes, “why didn’t it work out with you and your….?”

“Because….” Y/n pauses, searching his eyes before opting against whatever she was going to say, “it doesn’t matter.” Casting her gaze to their lazy feet, she leans her had against his chest – finally – and the sigh that tumbles off his lips is one of relief. He doesn’t think there’s any lyric he could piece together, or any word of any language, that could properly describe just how much he’s missed that. The lack of even a thread of distance between them, the way his heart ticks a little differently when her ear is over it, the smell of her shampoo when he bends to look at her while he’s nestled against him.

He doesn’t pressure her for a response, he isn’t sure if he even wants to know anything that will ruin the pleasure of having her with him. “I’m staying upstairs. 27,” Y/n says, just as the second song ends and the maid of honor announces that its time for the bouquet toss.

“Yeah?” Andrew licks his lips, “I think I might just go home after,” he adds, trying to gauge her reaction, but she's always had a good poker face.

Though, her expression falters just a little, so quickly that its almost unnoticeable, “right. Of course. My flight’s pretty early tomorrow anyway.”

His jaw tightens a littles, but he nods and smiles, “right.” He wants to be as good as she is at playing it cool and unaffected. He wants to just be able to pack up and leave their relationship behind like it was nothing, but just standing there in front of her is taking more out of him than it should, chipping away at his resolve and undermining his self-respect. “You’re leaving tomorrow,” he swallows thickly, going against the voice in his head that practically begged him to not say that.

“Mhm,” Y/n hums, “maybe next time?”

Andrew clears his throat, “Yeah, maybe.”

Y/n doesn’t say anything for a moment, instead tilting her head a bit to the left and narrowing her eyes just a little, as if she’s just seeing him. He’s about to ask what she’s thinking when most of the guests start gathering at the front of the room, getting ready to catch the bouquet. “I should go,” she declares.

Slipping hands into his pockets, Andrew offers the chaos behind him a quick, casual backwards glance, “Don’t wanna try to catch the bouquet?” He manages a barely there, lopsided smile.

And Y/n doesn’t return it; for the first time since their end, Andrew truly sees how he’s hurt her. Y/n furrows her brows, and stares at him as if he’s just asked her something completely outlandish. “No,” she shakes her head. Taking a step forward, she arches up on her toes – because even in four inch heels its hard to reach his face – and kisses him so close to the corner of his mouth that it would only take the slightest shift on his part for their lips to meet. “I’ll see you around Andy.”

He’s too stunned to react, and by the time Andrew has mustered up a reply, Y/n is already near the double doors that lead out of the small hotel’s dining hall and his fingers are lingering on the stop that she kissed.

An hour and a half ater

Threading his long finger through his wind mused hair, Andrew fixes his gaze on the gold plated numbers mounted above the off-white door.

22.

He’s back at the hotel after having left the reception shortly after Y/n did. He doesn’t even know who caught the damn flowers; he was too focused on trying to convince himself to not go after her.

Despite that, he’d made it to his car and then all the way home. Opened the front door, turned on the lights, walked to his refrigerator and got himself a beer. And then he closed the door and one of the pictures they took after he’d played a show in London was just there, stuck to the door with a little magnet shaped like the Big Ben. With the cap covered by the edge of his jacket, he twisted it open and took a swing of the beer, the bitterness of the hops not making him wince near as much as the grayscale memory taken by a phone with a number that he tries his best to not call.

He’d made it all the way to his car….and then a night where Andrew had sworn he could hear her voice above every other in the crowd and her lips were more intoxicating that any whiskey could ever be, came back to him and now he’s at the hotel again.

But hey, he lasted an hour and a half, so that's something.

Well, technically it was fifty-five minutes. But he's not interested in technicalities.

As he stands in front of the door, thumb flicking the corner of the polaroid, he finds himself half wondering why she’s never the one that comes crawling back. He knows the answer, mostly; Y/n has always had more resolve than him, she's good at guarding herself.

She’s even better at knowing her worth.

But him? He’s as close as anything gets to a walking definition of insanity; Andrew thinks he'll go back a thousand times if she’ll have him.

He’s pretty damn good at being on his own until he catches a glimpse of her face.

Shaking off his thoughts, he finally approaches the door and gives it three, brief knocks before slumping against the outer part of the frame. Y/n doesn’t answer immediately, and there's a little part of him – that’s blue and cold and nursing the pain of a wound that runs too deep to heal – that hopes she doesn’t open up. But his luck is as good as nil.

Her eyes are as sullen as his and much redder when Y/n pulls the door open. The green dress is gone, replaced with a pair of shorts and a sweater that resided in his closet long before he even met her – he’s been wondering where it went. Andrew is only a little disappointed that he didn’t get to peel that dress off her himself, he’s more concerned with the glassiness of her eyes and the way Y/n sniffles when she sees him.

“You okay?” He peers gently, thumb courting the dull edge of the picture.

“I thought you went home?” Y/n squints her eyes a little, “I saw you leave,” from the window she'd sat at upon returning to her room. She'd held her breath as he walked to his car, leaned closer when he pulled out of the spot and finally, fell apart as she watched the taillights disappear in the distance.

Andrew shrugs, still leaning on the frame. She's close enough to have to tip her chin to meet his gaze, but neither of them take the initiative to step backwards. “I came back,” he explains simply, slipping the photograph into the pocket of his slacks.

“Why?” Its a loaded question, he thinks. Why did he go back? Why does he keep going back, when he knows forgetting is the hardest part? Why does he do that to himself?

Why does he do it to her? Its the first time he’s ever asked himself that one. Maybe its because tonight, she’d been crying.

Reaching out to brush away a stray tear from under her eye, Andrew shrugs. He swears, when he curves his palm against her cheek, Y/n leans into his touch. Her fingers close in around his wrist loosely, and she stroke the side of it with her thumb.

“Can I come in?”

He’s telling himself that if she says 'no', he’ll just turn around and leave. Accept that its officially over and finally move in.

But he won't. He can think it all he wants but he won't. He'll grovel if he has to. Tell her he needs her -because it's true. He'll lie and say it's the last time if he thinks it's what they both need to hear.

“Sure,” Y/n manages, voice soft without moving back.

Lowering his face, Andrew presses his lips to hers, gently urging her into the suite. The lights are on, but he doesn’t pay much mind to anything around him. Instead, he slips his arm around to the small of her back as their kiss grows more impassioned. When she almost trips over a haphazardly discarded heel, he tugs her closer to his chest, before finally succumbing to lifting Y/n off the carpeted floor. Her legs go around his hips immediately and when they break for a moment, she holds his face close to hers.

“We can’t keep doing this,” he rasps, “you need to stop.”

“I can’t let you go,” Y/n counters, voice small and sad, “I can’t just let you disappear from my life just like that.”

Then why won’t you just be with me? He wants to ask, but the idea is gone the minute she kisses him again, and all he can think about is being with her right there, in that moment. Fuck the rest of the world or all the ways she’s broken his heart.

He barely has time to undo the button and zipper of his pants after setting her down on the bed, because her hands are reaching for him the minute her back hits the mattress. Unceremoniously, she pushes off his suit jacket before clumsily getting to the buttons of his white shirt. “I love when you’re dressed like this,” she manages, breath hot on his skin as the plastic buttons fall victim to her eagerness.

“I’ve been thinking about you all night,” he presses his lips to the side of her face, inhaling deeply before kissing his way down her jaw. His hands slip under the sweater after she pushes the shirt off his shoulders, and her skin is warm and smooth. With hurried ease, he peels the sweater off and casts it off to the side before lowering his mouth to the valley between her unclad breasts.

Y/n’s fingers slide up his back, settling on his shoulder blades as Andrew litters the swell of her breasts with small, purplish bruises. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he mumbles against her skin while gripping her hips and urging them off the bed so he can push her shorts down. “You're always on my fucking mind,” he mummers, nibbling on her skin.

Her nails graze his scalp, lithe fingers tangling in his curls, inciting a sensation that only she can rouse with a gesture so small. Gooseflesh along his skin, electricity up his back and a shake in his breath. With her toes, she shoves his pants and boxers down, and they get tangled up in the messy sheets. Her hips arch towards his, and reaching between them, he guides himself to her entrance. “Fuck,” he heaves upon feeling her wrapped around him.

Connecting his forehead with hers, so the tips of their noses touch and he can taste the lingering remnants of wine on her breath, Andrew stirs his lips in a leisurely pace.

“Andrew,” her voice breaks and a thread of moisture trickles from the corner of her eye.

Halting his movements, Andrew regards her with a mixture of concern and longing. “What?” He moves his hand from the pillow beside her head to cup the side of her face, “Did I hurt you?”

Y/n holds his face, thumbs making loose, circular patterns at the apple of his cheeks. “No,” she lies. “No,” Y/n sniffles again, “keep moving…..please.”

Burying his face in the side of her head, soaking up the aroma of her coconut shampoo. Y/n nuzzles the side of his face and he can hear her erratic breathing matching the thump of her heart. She’s clinging to him for dear life, and the only thing keeping his weight from smothering her is his hand buried in the pillow next to her head, while he tangles the fingers on the other in her hair. Andrew is eager to keep her close, just in case its the last time she lets him near – or by some miracle, he finds it in himself to let her go.

He treats every time like the last time, because in his head, it is.

“Andrew,” she eventually heaves again, and he feels her legs tighten around his hips as she tries to buck her pelvis towards his. Her fingers curl and he can feel her crescent shaped nails digging into his skin again.

“I wanna see you,” he coaxes, “look at me,” he pleads when Y/n buries her face in the crook of his neck, “I need to see you.” When she pulls away to meet his darkened gaze, Y/n slides her hand from his back to brush some hair from his face before settling her palm on his cheek. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart…..so fucking perfect,” he rasps, lowering his face to hers.

As her back arches, Y/n’s toes curl and she feels the knot in her stomach tighten. The friction Andrew stirs with his desperate, quickening pace coupled with the way he reaches something inside her that no one else ever has ushers her to the cusp of exhilaration. It doesn’t matter who she’s been with before – or after him – no one will ever compare; there isn't a person in the world that can make her feel what she feels when he runs his calloused fingers along her sides, or anything that’s even remotely as pleasurable as the heat of his mouth on her neck while his beard bruises her skin. Every time they’ve been together, she’s worn the mark of him, the ache of his memory, for days and Y/n doesn’t think there’s a version of her that can live without it.

His name tumbles off her lips again, that time with the insistence that she’s close. The pressure mounting in her center broils over in a flurry of panted breaths and garbled obsenties. “Andy….fuck, Andy,” Y/n is putty in his hands, moulding to his whim as he rides out her climax.

“Fuck,” Andrew groans when he feels her clenching around him. Her legs locked around his lips, the way she pulsates around him and his own, impending high makes the controlled jerk of his hips falter. He’s caught between wanting it to last longer and being shamelessly desperate for release.

Reaching for her thigh in a bruising grip, Andrew holds her in place as he finally reaches blinding gratification. “Y/n….Jesus sweetheart,” he groans, struggling to maintain the roll of his hips. His fingers hold a fistful of the sheets in a white knuckled grip and Andrew presses his forehead to hers for a second before angling his head to catch her lips in a sloppy kiss. Her teeth drag along his lower lip, exciting a sound that stays trapped in his throat.

Andrew rolls onto his back as their heavy breathing slows. Y/n is nestled against his chest and his arm immediately goes around her while he uses his free hand to pull the sheets over them. Neither of them speak for a while, but he knows she’s awake because he can feel her finger trace lazy patterns on his chest while he stares up at the ceiling. The fan mounted above them is spinning so quickly that he can barely make out the individual blades, but it doesn’t do much to combat the lingering heat on their skin, expressed only in the shine of sticky moisture.

It takes a while before he can think straight again, and even then, Andrew wouldn’t credit himself with much sense, because his next words are thick with emotion and marred with an urgency that is sure to give away his desperation. “Don’t leave.”

“What?” Y/n can’t bring herself to look at him; she doesn’t think she can stand the desperation in his eyes, that way he looks at her when the dust settles and she remembers why they can’t be anything more than tangled limbs and messy sheets. Usually she’s good at pretending that she doesn’t see it, but its been a long night and right now, all she can think of is everything they could be when he says;

“Don’t go…..back. Don’t get on the plane tomorrow.” His fingers trail up and down her spine, their familiar roughness rousing a comfort she hasn’t felt since the last time they were wrapped up in each other.

Its unusual for her, but Y/n can’t bring herself to say ‘no.’ Its never been easy, but she’s always been able to push him away before he gets close enough to hurt her again. Always, expect for tonight, after the wedding that dredged up memories from the worst time in their relationship, after Andrew showed up at her door with only the best of them at his fingertips.

After he, for the first time in a damn long time, asks her to stay.

[piss-pumpkin]

Bad dreams (Percy x reader)

Child of Hypnos reader, ~4.5k words, set ambiguously after pjo, the request was enemies to lovers so I sincerely apologize. Masterlist

Capture the flag. It was a game of epic highs and lows, winner and losers, all to decide who wore the crown. Until next week, that is. And nobody took it more seriously than Annabeth, determined to win and keep her indestructible reputation as the best strategist around. She was in the war room, taking this very seriously, and discussing with her right hand man before the team.

Percy groaned, dramatically dropping his head on the table, half pushing off the map. “Annabeth, why?” He complained, hand waving in the air to communicate the distain that she couldn’t see in his face. 

Annabeth sighed, taking her head in her hands. “I know you don’t like them,” she started calmly, crossing the floor to Percy to pat his back gently. “But the Hypnos cabin is an asset, between all of them, we can have half the enemy team asleep,” she said, ever pragmatic.

Percy was not a fan of her reasoning, as sound as it was. Unfortunately for him, the head counsellor of the Hypnos cabin was you. And You and Percy? He didn’t even want to think about. No idea why you decided not to like him upon meeting, even less of an idea how it’s escalated as far as it has. “Wise girl, have mercy,” he whined, standing up straight again. “Putting me in a room with them is a sure fire way to lose.”

Annabeth pursed her lips. “That might be true,” she started, circling the table, eyes the pieces she set dramatically to represent each of her forces. One or two Hypnos campers per squad to weaken the enemy. “But they’re essential to the plan, just… you’ll be in different areas, if all goes well.”

Percy grumbled. Things never went well. 

As the battle drew closer, the allied cabins assembled to hear the more polished version of Annebeths plan. And of course, that meant you at the table, front and centre, your forces being an essential part of the strategy. Great. You always listened to Annabeth, even though she was always sticking up for him. And she managed to get you on the same team, even when you knew that guy you hated would be there. 

You nodded along with the details, assigning siblings you thought best for each task. You seemed a lot nicer with them. 

You conferred with your cabin, and offered another plan to Annabeth. Percy wasn’t completing focused, because when you were done, he had no idea what you’d said. Annabeth seemed to be a fan though. She nodded along, and adjusted the prices on her map while you have people notes and alternate delegations.

An order to each cabin head. All except him. He glanced around at each counsellor telling their cabin mates what they should do, and he cringed. You’d instructed everyone else. “Uh,” he started looking to you because Annabeth was busy talking to the Apollo counsellor. “Does my job change at all?” 

You pursed your lips, smiling just slightly. “No, I guess I didn’t have anything for you,” you said slyly. “But isn’t jumping in without thinking kind of your whole thing? Just roll with that, yeah?” 

Percy’s face flattened as he sighed. He needed somebody else, “Annabeth?” He asked.

She turned to him, and thought for a moment. “They might have a point,” she said curiously, much to his detest. Percy grumbled as she continued. “Using you as a wild card might be beneficial, especially because you can take large groups of them at once.”

Great. No job, and more work, somehow. And you were smiling, a bit too satisfied with yourself and his annoyance. Why was it always like this? 

                                             …

There was one time when Percy was sparring with Clarisse, and they got a little too heated, and it ended up with Clarisse on Pegasus cleanup duty, and Percy teaching sword classes for a week. Definitely the lighter punishment, considering he liked the job. Chiron always went a little easy on him. But there were layers to this punishment. Primarily: you.

When Percy was approaching, he saw you, and sighed. You were there first, already talking to the younger campers, wide smile on your face and holding a weapon. Ugh. Of course he had the misfortune of fucking up the same time as you. Okay. This week was actually going to be terrible. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he said, jogging up to you and the campers. You’d just finished some sort of introduction, it was the perfect time to slide in. The youngest kid looked maybe ten, and had a dagger in her hand. She was little small for the real swords. The kids were looking up at him, faces blank or curious, and you were side eyeing him, brow raised, completely unimpressed. Yeah, he should probably do something interesting.

“Yeah, you sure were,” you laughed sarcastically, sounding just nice enough for the kids not to pick up on your distain. 

Percy grimaced. Great start. With a deep breath, he did  his best to recover, running his hands through his hair nervously. “Well, I’m here now, so,” he said, looking at the younger campers. Grinning, and ignoring your cold stare, he uncapped Riptide, and a few kids gasped. “How about we get to the fun stuff?”

He spared you a glance, catching you roll your eyes at him. This was not going to be a good week. Quite possibly the worst punishment Chiron could’ve given him. 

It’s hard to teach as a team when you can’t get along  for a second. And all the kids noticed, and did their best to egg you on. Percy was fighting for his life harder than he had on several quests, until the very last minutes of the time slot. Thank the gods it was only like, an hour. Even if it was one of the longest hours of his life.

And he wasn’t even spared when it was over.

“Of course we fucked up on the same week” you sighed, picking up a carelessly discarded sword. “Let me guess, something boring…” you started, walking idly toward the weapons rack with a handful of blades. “Like what, blowing up the bathroom again? Or sneaking out of camp for a quest?”

Hmm. Low blow. Though not completely unwarranted. “No, much cooler than that,” Percy sighed, rolling his eyes as he kicked up some dust from the arena floor. “Beating up Clarisse.”

You scoffed, “somehow I doubt that.”

And you weren’t exactly wrong. It was more of a mutual beating up, in a sort of frenemy way, Percy was the first to admit. But not to you. “Hey, you should see her,” he chided. “There’s cold hard proof.”

You bumped his shoulder on the way out of the arena, sighing. “Maybe I will, I could get some tips on kicking your ass,” you said, raising your brow. 

By the time he thought of a good-ish response, you were too far away to hear, and he was kicking himself for letting you get the last word. He glanced around the empty arena dumbly. It looked like you finished the cleanup while he just stood there, another point you had on him now. The punishment may not have been a competition, but you seemed to be winning thus far. Shit. 

And it only gets worse from there. 

He managed to come early the second day, a full fifteen minutes to get warmed up, and think about what could be good to teach the newbies. And he had the arena all to himself to slash dummies in the exact way he’d instruct them to do later. 

“Clarisse told me Chiron intervening is all that saved you from getting sent to the infirmary,” you said.

Percy jumped, Riptide nearly falling out of his hand. When the fuck did you get here? He hadn’t heard you at all. Sneaky bitch. He turned to face you when he recovered from his shock, “yeah, well, she couldn’t admit she lost a fight if there was a gun to her head.”

You didn’t look sold. You raised your brow, “could you?”

He pursed his lips. He wanted to say something like, yes, duh! But quickly realized it might be a lie. To most people he could, but admitting defeat to you felt much worse. Like it would confirm all your doubts or apprehensions about him, or whatever your grudge was. He decided a little lie wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. “I could,” he said casually, slashing a combat dummies head. 

He didn’t see your face as you hummed lowly with disapproval. Probably for the better. 

Or so he thought, because as you were walking towards the dummy beside his, he started to feel drowsy. His slashes got slower as his arms felt heavier, like they were weighing him down. He looked at you, and immediately wanted to lie down and pass out. Ugh.  Your subtle smirk told him you knew exactly what you were doing. And it only escalated when the kids started to arrive. 

You started the lesson off assertively. While he was struggling to blink with his heavy eyelids. “If you have any cool demigod abilities, you should totally use them literally whenever you can,” you said, pointing your weapon enthusiastically at the campers. 

Percy couldn’t help but watch in slight awe as you engrossed them all. You narrowed in on a son of Apollo,  your blade staring him down as you told him he should get comfortable using healing abilities in a fight. You seemed to have a suggestion for everyone; the daughter of Hectate should use the mist, a Demeter kid should try and use vines, your Hypnos brother should use… sleep powers. Percy knew about those all too well. 

Percy had to admit he was jealous of the way they seemed excited about your ideas. Did they really like you more than him? It wasn’t that he felt bad not being liked, he was plenty used to that in all the schools he went to. It was more that it was you. The way you showed a nicer side to seemingly everyone but him. His body still felt like it was made of lead. 

You had some blind spots though. Not everyone had powers, Percy guessed, watching a couple Athena kids rolling their eyes or looking at the ground. “I hate to interject,” Percy started, stealing your and the kids attention again. “But this is weapons training, there are other classes for using abilities.” Plus, maybe you’d stop using yours if they got back on focus. 

”Hey, I’m teaching them how to fight better, isn’t that the goal?” You shot back. You seemed to catch the way his eyes were lingering on the kids without abilities. “Even if you don’t have any specific powers,” you said, turning back to the campers, “if we start using them, you’ll learn how to counter them, and kick our asses better.”

Percy sighed. You seemed pretty stuck on this. He tiredly uncapped Riptide, and pointed at it. “Weapons class, Y/n. Let’s focus on using weapons,” he said. 

You shifted your lips around, maybe chewing on them, and then seemed to have a thought. Unfortunately. You smiled at the kids, “yeah, well, Percy doesn’t always use his abilities to the fullest when he fights,” you said. “Maybe don’t take his lead too much.”

Ugh. “Well, it’s not always as easy as some people make it look,” he said, gesturing at you. “Not everyone has powers, and some people get drained easily by theirs. For me, I can’t always rely on there being water around me.”

You crossed your arms, raising your brow, and actually looked at him this time. “You know what people are made of, right?”

The kids were listening intently, some snickering and smirking to themselves. A couple seemed annoyed that the training was paused just so the teachers could bitch at each other. Percy sighed, “yeah, no, I don’t want to do that. I think that was an episode of Avatar: the last airbender.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Well you might win more fights if you did,” you said snidely. Your eyes lowered a moment as you lowered your voice with a bitter tone, “I hate the idea of you going easy on me.” 

Before Percy could respond with a retort of his own, you’d dropped the mean act and completely focused on the kids, upbeat and happy. You clapped your hands together, and shot them a wide smile, “how about a demonstration, guys?” 

Aw shit. The kids lit up, nodding along as you continued. “How about me and Percy have a little match, and we see who wins, yeah?” You said, grinning at him. Ugh. It wasn’t a secret that people said he was the best swordsman at camp, but you were a head counsellor too. And even if he could stab you, he probably shouldn’t in front of the kids anyway. 

He had started to tune you out, but got snapped back to reality when he heard his name. “Percy, are you down?” You asked with faux sweetness. Ugh. Percy sucked a breath in through his teeth, and sighed. “Uh-Sure,” he said cautiously. 

You grinned, and the kids stepped back and whispered to each other. Yeah, they definitely picked up on your rivalry. They waited restlessly, probably excited to see the climax of your mutual dislike. Like the fight was inevitable. He uncapped Riptide with a sigh, and raised the blade as you shooed the kids to step further back. He took a fighting stance, raising his blade at the ready. Just great. Your aura of tiredness or whatever was affecting him seemed to get worse. Yeah, he might be fucked without water. 

You smirked, twirling a weapon of your own between your fingers and glancing at your audience happily, chest puffed out in self satisfaction. “Do you want to count us down?” you asked the kids, grinning. 

They nodded along, three, and Percy sighed, eying the water bottle he had off to the side. If he could get it then maybe... whatever. Maybe if he beat you, you’d lay off. Two. Or, if you won, you could get ten times worse. One. There was no good outcome. And it’s not like either of you could maim each other with the kids watching. 

Ugh. Still weighed down by an impossible spell of drowsiness, Percy started to lunge forward, sword ready to slash in an arc above his head. But then he looked at you. And you looked at him. And you were shooting him a finger gun, and Percy was out cold, without enough time to grumble or complain about it. Well shit. 

Like most times he slept, he was dreaming. Nightmares, specifically. At least he felt no godly presence, or anything sinister. Today, it was Annabeth and Grover dead on the floor, with Kronos in Luke’s body glaring at him from the sidelines. And then it was just Luke, looking at him sadly, approaching him, and then asking why he let his sister die. Percy didn’t have an answer. 

Nightmare Luke wasn’t a fan of that. Suddenly he was turning back into Kronos and raising Backbiter, and Percy was completely unable to move, paralyzed by fear, sadness, and bitter anger. Great. Just great. 

But Luke didn’t swing. He stopped, eyes cloudy and blank, and the bodies faded away. Was his subconscious being nice today? Luke stepped back, and his sword has vanished, and the scene was fading fast. 

Percy was awake. He grumbled, not wanting to open his eyes. His head was in the dirt, body completely weighed down by his own exhaustion. The arena floor wasn’t the worst place he could’ve fallen, at least. He grumbled, sat up, and rubbed his eyes until they opened.

You were still there, Percy’s eyes flew open, shaking any lingering tiredness. He scooted back just slightly. You were sitting beside him, head rested in hands and lips pursed. “Uhh,” he stuttered, scooting back further. “You’re uh, still hanging out here?” A quick glance showed the kids were gone, and the lesson had been over for a while. 

”You have some of the worst nightmares I’ve seen, dude,” you said simply, shifting your head from hands to hand. “I’m… sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t mean to snoop.”

Percys brow furrowed. What? You looked apprehensive, but your words didn’t seem malicious in the slightest. He stopped scooting back, but he held his arm up defensively between you, unsure why. You didn’t have a weapon. “It’s… fine. Was it you that… ended it?” He asked tentatively.

You nodded. “It didn’t seem fun,” you said quietly. You looked away, hiding your face in a palm, “Sorry for putting you in there, I guess,” you said. “I’ll try to avoid sleeping you, if you want.”

Percy looked at you quizzically, jaw hung slightly open, more than confused. You were being nice. That’s crazy. He wasn’t sure how to act. Every word he said was laced with hesitation and the slightest bit of a stutter. “Thanks, I guess,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “Appreciate it.”

You nodded, and a slightly sealed silence fell over the woods as you refused to look at him. But you didn’t stand up to leave yet either. 

“Hey, Y/n, can I ask,” he started, sitting up straighter and crossing his legs. “Usually you hate me…” he said, almost wincing. “Do you… not, today?”

That got your attention, and your eyes were burning through him. Your brow furrowed, and softened, your mouth opened and then closed, you looked away, then back at him, and then sighed. “I don’t hate you, Percy,” you admitted, sounding abjectly defeated. 

That got an involuntary “huh?” Out of him. You totally hated him. That was just a fact. 

You sighed, and shook your head, turning back away from him. You tone was far lighter this time, “no, I don’t hate you, I just- I don’t know,” you said.

”Then why-“ Percy started dumbly, but quickly trailed off, unsure how to make his question less rude. There didn’t seem to be an obvious answer. “Why are you like this,” he asked, cringing at his own callousness.

You snickered, looking at him with a slight and awkward smile. You shrugged, and looked back at the woods. Percy didn’t speak, he barely breathed, waiting for any sort of a signal from you. Somehow, it worked. You sighed , and stretched your legs in front of you and said, “I don’t know.” You paused, probably thinking. “It just comes naturally, I guess.”

Percy hummed. 

“That came out mean, didn’t it,” you laughed softly. 

“Like most things you say,” he laughed, but quickly trailed off. “Sorry.”

You smiled hesitantly, looking over at him with softer eyes than he usually sees on you. “No, that was deserved,” you said.

Percy smiled, and then raised his brow, surprising himself. That didn’t happen when he talked to you, this was fresh territory. Before he could respond, you were standing, and for the first time, offering him a hand up. And for the first time, he took it. 

You pulled him to his feet, but didn’t look at him, curtly turning your head away as he stood in front of you. Percy couldn’t help but snicker under his breath. You seemed intent on staring at a tree.

”Hey,” Percy started, brushing his hair out of his face. “Do you wanna go get on the same page about what we’re teaching them tomorrow so we don’t have a repeat of today?” He asked. He got a little scared when you finally looked at him, but you didn’t seem angry. And if anybody knew your angry face it was him. “We’ll probably be better teachers if we actually work together on it.”

You hesitated, raising your brow. “Uh, really?” You stuttered, crossing your arms and shrinking into yourself. 

Percy sighed. He was doing this, he’d committed now. For better or worse. “Yeah,” he nodded, with a friendly smile. “Why not? Let’s go get lunch or something.”

Percy wasn’t sure how well his olive branch was working. Your lips were pursed and arms still crossed, but.. the ever so familiar scowl you often showed him was absent from your lips. That could be good. You looked at the ground, then back to him, “yeah, okay.”

And here he was braced for rejection and an insult. Small victories. Percy grinned, nodding his head in the general direction of the dining pavilion, “then let’s go.” 

You nodded, and walked quietly beside him as he started for the path. Okay, a little awkward silence was nothing, that was still a win. Miles better than where he was this morning. Or even like, an hour ago. So Percy was inclined to try and bridge the gap. “The kids are gonna be really surprised when we actually work together, tomorrow,” he laughed. Careful words, when, not if.

He caught in his peripheral the tug of your lips upward into the slightest of smiles. “They’ll never see it coming,” you said. Maybe like a joke. Wow, was this actually working? You let out a small laugh, “neither did I.”

Percy but the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile. That made two of you, because this was the last thing Percy expected too. “Yeah,” he started. “Not bad though.”

For the first time in a good minute, you met his eyes, and his attention was drawn. You didn’t normally look at him like that. It was a… nice change pace. You sighed, “No, not the worst.” You swished your cheeks around a moment as you paused, but didn’t say more. And Percy would be lying to himself if he tried thinking he wasn’t a little disappointed. It almost looked like you were gonna say something nice. Well, maybe not the worst was nice enough. For you, at least.

”Percy, I’m really sorry about those nightmares,” you said finally, looking at the ground. 

Ah. That. Percy didn’t tell all that many people about his shit dreams. It was kind of a given that most people at camp got them, in some capacity at least. But he did his best to project a lighthearted image, especially when he was with the younger campers. “Oh,” he said dumbly. 

“If you want, I can help with those,” you offered quietly. 

Now that caught Percy’s attention. He raised his brow, “You can do that?” And he didn’t ask his other question: you would do that? Like, for him? 

You looked up at him, then back to the ground as the two of you approached the dining pavilion. “Yeah, Hypnos stuff,” you mumbled. “I do it for some other people too.”

Oh gods, you felt bad for him. That was a weird thought. “Oh- you don’t have to do that,” he started, suddenly far more embarrassed. So that’s why you were being nice. Suddenly it didn’t feel as good as before.

You looked up at him with wider eyes now, and bit the inside of your cheek. “Well, if you ever change your mind.”

Something about your pity didn’t sit right with him, even if was glad you didn’t look like you wanted to bite his head off. This look, the feeling sorry for him face, was somehow worse. “I won’t,” he snapped, sounding meaner than he meant. Or maybe he did mean it, in his bitterness he couldn’t tell. “You don’t need to pretend to like me now that you feel bad.”

You brow furrowed, and that pity look was gone in an instant. “Hey asshole, I was just offering to help,” you spat. Now this was more familiar. You crossed your arms at your chest as you walked. “Thought about being nice for once.”

”Yeah, for once,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Because now you feel bad.”

”Oh shut up,” you said, shaking your head with a glare. You stopped just short of the pavilion. “You aren’t special because you get nightmares, idiot, half the camp does,” you said, stepping closer to him. He was inclined to back away. “I’ve seen worse.”

Percy took another step back. There was a few stray campers sitting in the pavilion watching curiously, now. 

“But sure, go ahead,” you said, hands animating with your words. He flinched a moment as you halfway gripped the air. “Keep having your shit dreams, I don’t care.”

“Then why did you offer,” he spat back.

You looked at him like he was an idiot, shaking your head. “Because nightmares suck, nobody deserves that shit,” you said, like it was obvious. “Not even a stuck up asshole who thinks he’s better then everyone.”

What? Percy stood dumbly for a moment while your sharp glare subsided into a duller scowl. Did he really come off like that? “I’m not-“ he started, but quickly gave up. As much as he wanted to insult you back, half the things you said were genuinely pretty nice. You were right, nobody deserved that.

You scoffed, “sure you’re not,” you said bitterly. 

The two do you stood silently for a moment. And a few moments more. The couple of campers watching awkwardly tried to go back to eating. The lunch plans the two of you made seemed so far in the past now. Same with the idea of getting in the same page.

Percy spoke first. “I don’t- I don’t think like that,” he said lamely.

”No, you’re just the hero of Olympus, who goes on all the quests, who the gods tried to give immortality too,” you said. But the malice was gone. “You’re the reason I even have a cabin here,” you said quietly. 

Percy winced. How do you explain to somebody that going on all those quests… wasn’t always great. It stopped being amazing when more lives were at risk, the stakes got higher, people died. A lot of the time all the glory kind of sucked. “Well it’s… not all it’s cracked up to be,” Percy managed. “I mean, you saw the aftermath.”

”Yeah,” you said, looking at the ground. “That’s why I thought.. you might not be how I thought.” You looked up, expression made of stone. “But at least you’re… I don’t know,” you trailed off, “I think I’d still rather be somebody, even if it sucks.”

Percy half heartedly laughed through his nose, “Usually I feel the opposite, it would’ve been easier to be a kid of some minor god.”

”Grass is always greener, I guess,” you sighed. 

“You are somebody, though,” Percy said, realizing he should probably address that. The idea that you were insecure seemed so alien. The way you insulted him always seemed so confident. “You don’t need a ton of quests or fights to prove that.”

You rolled your eyes, a weak smile was forming on your lips, “well, that’s easy for you to say. I’m only here, and claimed, and in a cabin because you made the gods pay their child support.”

Percy smiled softly, gesturing his head to the tables at the pavilion. He started to walk as he spoke, “that’s the gods, that’s their problem,” he said, grabbing a plate to fill with the magic food with you behind him. “You’re more then the gods approval.”

He had to look back to see if you were still there, the way you went quiet. You grabbed a plate, and followed him to a table, all with that stone faced look. Not pity or malice, this time. When you sat down beside him, you finally cracked. “Thanks,” you managed, staring ruefully at your food. 

“It’s true,” Percy said. 

You looked up at him, a slight smile on your lips this time. “Thanks,” you said, more confidently. 

“Are you still up for helping me with the nightmares?”

This request haunted me for like over a month cuz I couldn’t get anything out of it for a while. I wasn’t gonna post here but I ended up happier with it then I thought tho. Can you tell I never write enemies to lovers? I usually hate that trope lmao. Anyway part 2 coming maybe.

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Two Hearts, One Home (3)

part two

series masterlist

main masterlist

summary: ben copes with the thought of losing you and just wants to hear your heartbeat

pairing: soldier boy x female supe!reader

rating: R for language, mature themes (?)

word count: 4.2k

warnings: pregnancy, labor, language, vought torturing supe’s | mentions of/alludes to - sex, birth control, infertility issues, miscarriage, loss of a child, and trouble breastfeeding.

timeline: set about twenty minutes after part two

author’s note: part three! this is the happy ever after version, so this will be the final part. however i may be writing a prequel series. <3 (definitely titled sweet creature keeping with the title theme)

gif source

“Sir, I need you to get out of the room!” A nurse yelled, trying to push Ben out of the Supe-ER.

“B-Ben don’t leave me here!” you exclaimed between pained gasps.

“I can’t fucking leave her!” Ben shouted.

“Hey, hey, hey, just let the doctors do their job,” Butcher pulled Ben back and out of the room. “Just breathe, she’s tough as nails, she’s gonna be okay.”

“I- I can’t lose her, Butcher.” Ben shook his head. He ran a hand down his face and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I can’t…fuck!”

In his fit of rage he punched the wall next to him, his fist going straight through it and peeking out into the other room. Suddenly everyone in the waiting room and the front office were staring at him.

“Weak wall,” Butcher muttered to a nurse who was now examining the hole.

“We get Supe’s in here all the time, that’s the fifth hole this week,” she laughed a little. “Just calm him down before he punches a person.”

“Will do.” Butcher smirked before turning back to Ben. “Let’s take a seat, yeah?”

“No, i-if I stand here I can still h-hear her h-heartbeat,” Ben said, tears streaming down his face. Butcher nodded a little.

“I’ll bring a chair over here for ya then.”

It was Ben’s turn to nod. “Thank you,” he said.

Butcher, true to his word, brought a couple chairs over to where Ben was standing so they could sit down but Ben could still listen to your heart. Ben put his face in his hands and his elbows on his spread knees. Butcher didn’t really know what to do, he’d never seen Ben this upset. Scared, even.

“About two years ago,” Butcher started, “Y/n and I were chasing this asshole who just stole this little girl’s backpack right in front of us. He jumped into his car and started driving off. But Y/n, being an absolute badass, flung herself onto the car, then managed to get in front of it. She stopped it with her bare hands, Ben. Lifted it off the fuckin’ ground. Or how about that time she saved half a dozen construction workers when that scaffolding started to give out so she held the damn thing together so they could all get out? She is the strongest woman on the fucking planet, you know she is.”

“But if that baby is stronger,” Ben said quietly, lifting his head to look at Butcher, “it might just tear her apart. I mean, this is my baby and her baby; it’s gonna be stronger than both of us. It might just kill her, Butcher.”

“What’s the worst thing Vought put her through?” Butcher asked. “I mean, what was something they did that almost killed her?”

“Nothing almost killed her. They stitched a bomb into her chest and it blew to bits inside her. Hurt like hell, but it didn’t come close to killing her.”

“This baby ain’t gonna kill her, Ben. She’s been through way worse than this and she’s still alive and well.”

Ben took a deep, long breath, trying to calm himself down. “Thank you, Butcher,” he mumbled.

“Of course, mate.”

**

“Mr. Barnes?” The nurse who had pushed Ben out of the room was now standing a few feet from where he sat. “Y/n’s okay, you can see her now.”

“Oh thank fucking god,” Ben exclaimed before hurrying to you. “You’re okay! You’re really- fuck!” He smiled when he saw you.

“Come meet your son,” you said, smiling.

“I was so worried about you,” Ben whispered before kissing you. “I- I thought I lost you!” He kissed you a couple more times, putting his hands on your face, before pulling away to look at the baby in your arms.

“He’s so little!” Ben gasped as you handed him the baby. “Look at you! So, so tiny! And you’ve got Y/n’s eyes!”

“Any thoughts on the name?”

“William?” Ben asked you.

“Really?” You smiled even wider, Ben nodded. “William it is!”

“Hello, William Barnes,” he said, once again looking at baby Will. He then looked back at you; your eyes heavy with sleep and a smile still on your lips. “How’re you feeling? Are you…okay?”

“I am now,” you replied, reaching out to take his hand.

**

“Everyone meet William Barnes,” you told the group (Butcher, Hughie, Annie, Frenchie, and Kimiko) when they walked in.

“William?” Butcher smiled widely. A real, genuine smile, which was rare for him.

“Yep, named him after William Shatner! We love Star Trek,” Ben replied. You slapped his arm.

“He’s kidding,” you laughed. “We named him after the man who saved Ben in Russia, then freed me from a Vought lab a couple days later.”

“Sounds like a stand up guy.” Butcher was still smiling.

“Wanna hold the baby?” Ben asked.

“Oh hell yeah!” he exclaimed.

**

“Now’s the hard part, right?” you said to Ben when the three of you entered the apartment; Ben holding a sleeping Will in his arms. “Now we’ve got this tiny little human to take care of.”

“Now’s the fun part, though, too.” Ben shrugged a little. “Now we get to watch the little guy grow up. We watch him start to crawl, take his first steps, hear his first words, hear his laugh when we make silly faces, all the joys of being parents!”

“And we get to watch him drink formula because I’m toxic and could kill him,” you scoffed a little, Ben’s smile slowly fading. “Sorry,” you shook your head, “I’m just tired. Could you watch Will so I can sleep?”

“It’s okay, I’ve got it,” he said, smiling softly again. “C’mere.” He pulled you into a tight, one armed hug and you wrapped your arms around him. “I love you so much, honey. You go sleep for as long as you want, I’ll take care of Will.”

“I love you, Ben,” you whispered as you pulled away. “So much!” you added, yawning widely as you walked into the bedroom.

**

You slept for almost fourteen hours before you stirred awake. You still didn’t feel fully rested, which was strange, but you chalked it up to the fact you’d stayed up for over 36 hours before you crashed.

You heard Ben singing very quietly to Will in the living room as an attempt to get him to stop crying.

As you listened closely you noticed he wasn’t singing a classic nursery rhyme. You quietly went to the bedroom door so you could hear better.

“Hush little baby don’t you cry,” he sang very, very quietly. “Everything’s gonna be alright. Stiffen that upper lip up, little baby, I told ya, Daddy’s here to hold ya through the night.”

“Are you singing Eminem to our newborn baby?” you asked, walking into the living room.

“Uh huh,” he mumbled. “Why? Should I not be singing Eminem?”

“Does it work?”

“Oh yeah, he’s out like a light!” Ben smirked. “Why aren’t you sleeping? You feeling okay?”

“I’ve been asleep since we got home yesterday morning,” you laughed a little.

“Are you still tired?”

“Weirdly yeah, but I’m sure it’s nothing.” You shook your head a little. “Mind if I go back to sleep? Or do you want a turn?”

“Go ahead, I’ve got this,” he said. You turned to walk back but he stopped you. “Wait,” he mumbled before you turned back. He bent down and kissed you, wrapping a now free arm around your waist. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You smiled back.

**

“Fucking hell!” you exclaimed loudly, throwing the breast pump across the room. Ben hurried over from the kitchen, a worried expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“The stupid pump isn’t fucking working! Or I dunno, maybe my boobs are fucking broken!”

“Hey, hey of course your boobs aren’t broken!” he replied as he took a seat next to you, not really knowing what to say. “I’m sure it’s just the pump, can I help you figure out how to work it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you sniffled. “It’s all getting dumped down the drain anyway. What kind of fucking mother am I!?”

“Just because you have V in your system doesn’t mean you’re a bad mother?”

“Ben, how are you not more scared about all this?” You looked at him with tears in your eyes. “We’ve got a living, breathing, baby Supe in that room and you’re acting like this isn’t a horrifying situation! One wrong move and we’ll have the next Homelander! How are you so fucking calm!?”

“I’m freaking out too,” he whispered. “Every time you leave the room I let myself kinda go into panic mode because I don’t want to show you how scared I really am.” He took in a shaky, shallow breath.

“Ben!” you mumbled and took his hand in yours.

“I mean, you’re right! If we fuck this up, that kid could bring the whole world crumbling down!” He laughed humorously, putting his free hand on his face to hide the tears as he began sobbing a little. “I’m so scared I’ll be just like my dad, Y/n. I know I have it in me to be exactly like him. I drink more than he did, I’ve killed a countless number of people, I’m a fucking monster! When it comes down to it I am not someone who should be raising a fucking human being!”

“Ben, please don’t call yourself that,” you replied, a sob escaping your lips as well. “You’re nothing like your dad, you aren’t- you definitely are not a monster! You are a good person now! And now is what matters.”

**

“I don’t know, she just went to sleep last night and I couldn’t wake her up.” Ben’s deep voice slowly woke you up.

“Ma’am, can you hear me?” the stranger sitting next to you asked. You nodded. “That’s great, do you know where you are?”

“B-Ben?” you mumbled, knowing he’d hear you from the other side of the bedroom where he was talking to the other paramedic.

“Yeah, I’m here sweetheart,” he replied and hurried to you.

“Ben what happened?” you asked. “Who are these people? Wh-Why are they in our home?”

“Y/n, you weren’t responding when I tried to wake you and I got scared so I called Butcher. Hughie sent someone over to check on you,” Ben explained.

“Is the baby okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, Butcher’s got him in the kitchen right now. How’re you feeling?”

“I feel fine?” You shrugged. “A little confused about the random men in our bedroom but other than that I feel okay.”

“I think we better go,” the paramedic next to you said and stood up. “We’ll get her blood sample back to the lab - all kept confidential - and let you know if we can find out what happened.”

“Thanks,” Ben told him as the men left the room.

“Ben seriously, what the hell?” you asked, laughing a little. “I sleep in a little and you call Butcher? You get a doctor to take a blood sample?”

“Sweetheart, it’s nearly four in the afternoon. I first tried to wake you up at noon and you wouldn’t budge.” He looked terrified and your gaze softened.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you whispered.

“I’m just glad you’re awake now. You are not falling back asleep any time soon!” he exclaimed.

“So… Butcher’s alone with the baby?”

“Yeah, I better go check on them.” Ben kissed you. “Get outta bed so you don’t fall back asleep, okay?”

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

**

“So the blood tests came back…” Hughie told you and Ben through the phone. “Y/n, there’s no Compound V in your system. There’s no trace the blood ever had Compound V.”

“Wait, what?” You furrowed your brows. “I don’t understand, the blood was switched out? Where’s my blood then?”

“No, it’s yours—it’s just no longer Supe blood,” Hughie replied.

“Holy fucking shit,” Ben mumbled.

“Yeah… as far as anyone can tell, Y/n is the first reverse-Supe ever. With your permission they want to use it to make a sort of Anti-V.”

“Wait so I’m cured?” you asked, shaking your head a little. “No offense Hughie but I don’t believe you. Like, at all. Not for a second.” There was an awkward pause. “Sorry, that came off really rude. Thank you for everything but there has to be some mistake. Do whatever the fuck you want with the blood, but I gotta say there’s no way it’s mine.”

“I will get back to you guys after I have more information, okay?” Hughie said before you all said goodbye and hung up.

** twelve years later **

“C’mon kid I said get mad!” Ben exclaimed. He was teaching Will to throw a good punch but the kid wasn’t taking it very seriously.

“Mom said we should always try our best not to let anger fuel us,” he replied.

“And usually she’s right, but in this case you’re hitting a punching bag so it’s okay.”

“Alright, but if mom gets upset it’s your fault!” Will laughed. He threw a nearly perfect punch to the center of the hanging equipment.

“Wow! Good job, kiddo!”

“Is it true you used to be able to break these with one punch?” he asked.

“Who told you that?” Ben furrowed his brows.

“These kids at school said that Soldier Boy used to be super strong but then he got old and sick. You said you used to be Soldier Boy, right?”

“I- I was Soldier Boy, yes. But I didn’t get sick, Will, I- I gave up the super strength so I could have a family with you and your mom.”

“You gave up super powers!? Look, dad, I love you but that was really dumb!” Will laughed.

“Mom gave up her super powers too! You don’t call her dumb!” Ben scoffed.

“Mom had super powers too!?”

“Shit- Uh shoot, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that yet. Mom and I were gonna tell you on your birthday tomorrow, we had a big thing planned and everything!”

“If I don’t tell mom I know and I act all surprised when she tells me, can I get that Lego set I asked for but you said was too expensive?”

“Uh… yes,” Ben said, knowing the Lego set was already wrapped and hidden in the closet ready for Will to open tomorrow morning. “Don’t tell your mom you know, and tomorrow you’ll get the Lego set.”

**

“What’d you do?” you asked Ben that night, after tucking your son in for bed. “Will just said, and I quote, ‘mom I think it’s really cool you don’t have superpowers’.”

“I… may have accidentally let it slip.” He clenched his teeth apologetically, you scoffed, disappointed. “I’m sorry! He was asking me about Soldier Boy and it just kinda came out!”

“How much did you tell him?”

“Just that you used to have powers, that’s it!”

“So, the plan still stands then? We… tell him everything tomorrow?”

“Yeah, he’s old enough to know the truth, I think. If he hates us for how we handled it then that’s just gonna be worse if we wait to tell him.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, still disappointed Ben spilled the beans.

“I’m sorry!” Ben pouted a little.

“No, don’t do the face!”

“What face?”

“That face you do that makes me agree with whatever you say!”

“Does that mean you forgive me?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

“Thank you,” he replied, smiling and holding out his hand for you to take. He pulled you into him and kissed you, smiling against your mouth when you kissed him back. “I love you.”

“I love you, Ben,” you mumbled against his mouth, going in for another kiss.

“I know I say this every time Will has a birthday, but thank you, Y/n. Thank you for giving me all this.”

“Thank you, too.”

**

You were all sitting at the dinner table, it was the afternoon and Will had already opened all of his presents. (Including the Lego set he thought he was bribed with.)

“Alright, Will, your mom and I have something pretty big we want to tell you. Now, it might change how you see us as parents, so um, if you don’t want us to tell you, that’s okay,” Ben said.

“Oh do tell!” He faked an interested look.

You smiled, laughing a little when he put his cheek in his hand to listen.

“Kid, she knows I slipped up yesterday, it’s alright,” Ben said, Will letting out a breath of relief.

“Oh thank god, I have so many questions!” he squealed with joy, calming your nerves a little.

“Go ahead, ask away,” you said.

“One, what were your powers? Two, how did you get your powers? Three, does this mean I have powers too? And four, who was stronger, you or dad?”

“I had super strength, and I could kinda-sorta fly. It was just really big jumps technically, but in a big city it looked like flying,” you told him.

“Wow, that's awesome!” Will mumbled, smiling widely.

“We both got our powers from a super serum that was given to us. Your mom when she was a baby, and me when I was in my twenties,” Ben said.

“And I was definitely stronger than your dad,” you added. “I kicked his ass a couple times.”

“She definitely did,” Ben sighed, smiling.

There was a bit of a pause.

“So… do I have powers too?” Will asked.

“You used to,” Ben told him.

“Will, when I was pregnant with you I somehow lost my powers. Some scientists used my blood to make what they called the ‘Anti-V’ which was a cure for the people who were injected with the serum. You see, a lot of these people, including myself, didn’t choose to take the serum, our parents chose for us. They gave it to us as babies and it ruined a lot of lives.”

“I don’t understand, why don’t I have powers?” Will asked.

“We gave you the Anti-V when you were two-years-old,” you told him. His shoulders fell in disappointment.

“Why? I would’ve loved to be a superhero!” he scoffed.

“It was a tough choice, Will, but it was the right one,” Ben assured him. “Vought, the company that made the serum, they would’ve hurt us, hurt you. But, when you’re older, you can take the serum if you want to.”

“But,” you started, “we want you to really think about it because being a Superhero is nothing like the movies, Will. It’s nothing like Captain America or Spider-Man or Batman. There are so many sides to it, and there are enough bad sides to it that nearly eighty percent of the people who were given the serum ended up taking the Anti-V.”

“And that’s not counting all the kids like you who were given it because of their parents,” Ben added.

“Actually, Batman doesn’t have powers,” Will muttered, beginning to smile a little. “But Captain America is definitely similar to Dad.” He giggled, causing you and Ben to smile.

“So… you’re okay?” Ben asked.

He shrugged. “I’m not like, mad if that’s what you’re asking.”

You and Ben let out breaths of relief, smiling wider.

“Will, we love you so much.” You reached across the table to take one hand and Ben took his other. “So, so much. When you turn eighteen, you can have a chance to take the serum and get your powers back if you want, but not a day sooner. Okay?”

He nodded. “Thank you for telling me all this. Can I tell you something now?” You and Ben both nodded. ���I don’t think I want to watch Marvel movies anymore. Feels kinda weird now.”

** another six years later **

“Y/n!” Ben shouted from downstairs, effectively waking you up. He ran up and into the bedroom. “He’s gone.”

You sat up, “What?”

“Will! He’s gone! He must’ve gone to get the serum!”

“No! Oh, god no!” you exclaimed, hurrying out of bed and putting on your clothes from the night before. “Ben! This is really bad!”

“I know!” he exclaimed back. “He must’ve left the second he turned eighteen! Fuck!”

“Alright, let’s just breathe,” you pulled his hands away from his face, “he wouldn’t take it without telling us. He’s been very open about his feelings toward Vought and Compound-V the last few months and he would not just run off and take the serum.”

“You’re right,” he nodded, “but if he has, you remember what that means for us, right?”

“We’ll have to take the serum too.” You smiled sadly.

“Exactly, we can’t let him go through it alone! He’ll need other Supe’s that love and care about him.”

You wrapped your arms around his torso and he wrapped his around your shoulders.

“We can do this, Ben. We’ve been good parents for eighteen fuckin’ years and we’ve raised an incredible young man. He will make the right decision, I know it.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Ben nodded. “He’s not taking Compound-V.”

**

“Mom, Dad, I got the Compound-V!” Will called out, walking into the house.

“Uh, oh,” Ben mumbled, looking up at you from where he sat at the table.

“We’re in the kitchen, hun!” you called back.

He walked into the kitchen, carrying a small black container.

“I went to the bank today,” Will said, putting the black box on the table.

“Uh huh?” You furrowed your brows, putting a hand on Ben’s shoulder. He reached and held your hand, filled with worry.

“I took the serum,” Will said.

“No,” you whispered, eyes widening.

“Fuck,” Ben mumbled, bringing his hands to his face. “Will, why?”

“Will, we- we love you and we’ll support you in this decision, just-” you took in a shaky breath, trying to stay calm, “did you get your powers yet?’

“What? Oh! No, I didn’t take take the serum,” Will said. “I meant that I took it from the safety deposit box. It’s right here.” He opened the container on the table to reveal the three syringes of Compound-V.

Ben visibly tensed, so you put both hands on his shoulders.

“So… have you, um, have you decided what you wanna do with it?” you asked, mentally praying to anyone who’d listen he wouldn’t take the serum.

“I wanna throw it away. I don’t wanna be a Supe,” Will told you.

“Really?” Ben asked, Will nodded with a slight smile.

“I mean,” Will shrugged, “being a Superhero would be awesome hypothetically. But there’s no such thing. I’d be super, sure, but I’d never be a hero, that part’s always fake. Also, after everything Vought’s done, especially to you guys, I don’t want their serum coursing through my veins. So, I am dumping these vials down the drain…” He took the three vials and held out two of them. “Wanna help?”

Ben let out a relieved laugh as he stood up. He wrapped Will up in a bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he exclaimed before pulling away and placing a kiss on Will’s forehead. He took one of the vials before they both looked at you.

“Mom?” Will asked, noticing the tears in your eyes.

“I’m so proud of you!” you choked out. You hurried over to hug him as well as take one of the vials. “I love you so much, Will, thank you so much for not taking the serum.” Ben put his arms around the two of you, resting his head on yours.

After a few blissful moments wrapped up in the group hug the three of you pulled away.

“We should probably dump these into the dirt, right?” Ben asked.

You shrugged, “Once it hits the air it’s useless. So, drain or dirt, I don’t think it matters.”

“Ooh, how about down the toilet?” Will suggested. “More poetic that way!”

“I like how you think, kiddo,” Ben said.

The three of you went to the bathroom and held the syringes over the toilet, needle side down.

“Three,” you all said together, “two,” you all put your thumbs on the ends, ready to push the Compound-V out of the vials and out of your lives forever. “One.”

As the blue liquid hit the toilet water, you smiled. It was over, you and your family were really free.

“Shall I do the honors?” Will asked, his hand hovering over the flush lever.

“Go ahead,” Ben said, putting his left hand on your hip, his right holding a now empty syringe. Will flushed the toilet and you all watched as the poison disappeared and was replaced with clean toilet water.

**

“The empty syringes have been properly disposed of,” Ben told you before plopping down on the couch beside you.

“I’m so glad he didn’t take the serum,” you breathed. “We were this close to losing everything-”

“Thank you,” Ben cut you off, you furrowed your brows a little. “It’s Will’s birthday, it’s the day that I always remember to thank you for giving me all this.” You smiled. “So, thank you, Y/n.”

“You’re more than welcome, Ben,” you replied before he kissed you. “And thank you, too.”

[fineghkst]

How Eris and Azriel would react if their mate didn’t remember them

warnings: angst

a/n: kinda disappeared last weeks bc my classes are back, but hopefully i’ll have time to post more in the next few days

Eris Vanserra

Eris never expected to have a mate, but when he put his eyes on you for the first time, he realized how much he needed you

It took a long time for him to show who he truly was behind the mask he was used to wear. The cold and rude heir he learn to be turned into a sweet, caring and loving mate

At first, Eris thought it was only a joke

But then he realized the serious look on your face, looking him like he was a completely stranger. His world broke into pieces

How cold he live in a reality where his mate didn’t remember him? The person he loves the most doesn’t even knows who he was or about the bond

Eris felt like a knife were stuck between his ribs. Would that be a punishment for everything he has done before?

He would definitely blame himself for letting that happen to you. At some point, he starts to distance, trying (and failing) to act like he doesn’t care since he thinks that’s the best for you

That would destroy him, but still, he just wanted to see you well again. And having a mate pressuring you to remember about the bond was not the best way to recover your memories

Eris would be in a vortex of guilt and self pity for a while

But he couldn't handle not having you in his life. Eris realizes he just wants to be with you, even if it’s just like a friend

Eris would make everything he can to help you recover your memories and if it wasn’t possible, he would build new ones with you

Eris would show how much he loved you everyday, but never pressuring you to act like his mate

Being patient and letting you discover things by yourself, but would gladly tell you about your story together or answer any questions you may have

You would be free to make your own decisions, even if it was to leave him

Azriel

This poor boy would be completely devastated

It took centuries for him to finally meet you and now he was losing you

He honestly thought after the mating ceremony you two would have a type of happily ever after

Until suddenly you didn’t knew his name

Az would definitely be stuck in really bad place once you lose your memories. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t have an idea of what he could do to fix it

Azriel wouldn’t know how to act in your presence, so he accompanies you from distance, making his shadows always be with you, ensuring your safety

Would go out looking for a cure all over Prythian

Once he didn’t find out a way to recover them, Azriel felt completely defeated and desperate

He starts to redo the whole story of you two again, taking you to the most striding places

First, Az would take you to where he saw you for the first time, then, to the restaurant of the first date. After that, to the place you two gave the first kiss

Tries to win you back everyday

He would definitely be terrified of the moment you found out about his job at the Night Court, just like he was when you two were only starting the relationship

In short, Azriel would show how much he loves and cares for you. The spymaster would definitely boil in jealousy if any male approached you, but like Eris, he would leave you free to make your own decisions, even if they destroyed the little happiness he had conquered by your side

[lexirosewrites]

Hey hey how are your thoughts on the toxic omega Steve? No plot or nothing just disordered thoughts

Like how was his relationship with Nancy and what he tells people after? How did he react after the whole Nancy×Johnathan thing? I bet he zeroed in on Eddie and was like "ooh yeah issues"

And here is a cat:

warning: this is vaguely DDDNE with toxic omega steve, baby trapping, manipulation etc!

okay! so! toxic omega steve was always sort of a spoiled brat whose parents took care of everything and he got used to being told yes to whatever he wanted in life.

nancy is his first taste of being denied. they’re a good match at first, but when she breaks it off, he’s livid. he’s been dumped and humiliated and his parents are unhappy that he’s ruining his reputation! he tries to brush it off to anyone who asks, but the damage is done. his parents have cut him off financially and told him to get an alpha or get a job!

when steve sees nancy and jonathan together, he throws a temper tantrum. not only did he lose the alpha who his parents approved of and who would give him the pups he wanted, but she went and started slumming it with byers of all people? unacceptable.

at this point steve is ready to burn his life down in anger. he goes to buy some drugs, looking for a way to numb the feelings or maybe piss his parents off… when he meets eddie of all people.

eddie who is an eligible alpha and whose involvement with steve would make his parents lose it. eddie who is staring at steve in a way that doesn’t hide his lust. eddie who is flustered when steve flirts with him and gives him the weed for free.

so steve keeps coming back. he keeps wearing shorter skirts and brushing his hands on eddie’s thigh when he laughs, throwing out every trick in the book to try and get him to snap.

eddie is too afraid of steve to ever make the first move, so steve has to do it. he practically slams himself on eddie’s cock right there at the picnic table, but he can be patient. he starts by kissing him and pretending to be shy about it.

steve isn’t shy but it’s what eddie likes. it makes eddie feel like they’re on equal footing with this thing. eddie can’t help but fall in love with him because it’s what steve planned.

it doesn’t take a lot to get eddie to ask him out, to get them in a compromising position in his van parked by lover’s lake. a couple pokes in the condoms and steve’s guaranteed a good ol’ fashion baby trap is laid.

he even pretends to be upset when the pregnancy test pops positive and eddie offers to do the right thing and mate him. steve fakes some tears and agrees that their baby should have parents who are bonded, that it’s what wayne and steve’s parents would want too.

it took a bit of work, but steve got what he wanted. he made his parents angry, he got a pup in his belly, and he got an alpha who is utterly devoted to his happiness because steve is the best omega he could ever get.

toxic omega steve is a fucking gem💕

[blingblong55]

Can't catch me now- Simon "Ghost" Riley

Photo credits: @ave661 ---- No mentions of reader, angst, comfort? fluff? death of character ----

"GHOST!" 

It was too late, the body hit the ground. Simon Joseph Riley was pronounced dead. Gunshot to the head, his heart penetrated by the bullet and the ones to witness this are his mates from the team. His blood ran down the rocky mountain. The team witnesses something. During this whole mission, they only experienced rain and thunder, to their surprise, the second Simon dies, the sun shines through the clouds. A rainbow was born over the horizon. "Enjoy your new home, soldier," Captain Price nods at his own words as with glee he knows his comrade is finally home. "Take it easy," Gaz takes his cap on and looks at the sun that pours from the clouds. "Tell Soap we'll meet him for drinks someday," Price adds and fights back tears.

 It's the end of an era but the beginning of a good life for the two past comrades. 

Three days later, there he is, his body in that casket, a proper military funeral given to him and he is laid to rest with the rest of his family. 

Simon opens the door to his childhood home, the sun rays casting through the window, the walls grey and white "Welcome home, son," his mum greets him. There is confusion in Simon. Why was he here? is this a dream? Before he can even gather his thoughts, his brother, nephew and even his sister-in-law walk into the entryway and hug him. "Welcome home, brother," Tommy whispers as he hugs a confused Simon. 

Why is his dead family here? Welcome home! what does this mean?

Oh...

Oh by all luck, he's dead. 

"Mum?" 

"Yes, Simon?" the woman's sweet voice rings in his ears. 

All of a sudden, he is excited and happy. A smile creeps into his lips and there it was, that good feeling. He is home. His body doesn't ache, the scars are gone and all that is left with him is a smile and an afterlife where in this one, he finally has it all. 

"The girls are in the kitchen," his mum whispers. 

His wife and girls? There it is, that smile. He hasn't seen them since their funeral, this must mean he truly is in heaven. 

He walks past his mother and goes into the kitchen. The sight is too much to not just stop and idolise. His wife, his three daughters and those smiles and giggles. "Girls?" His voice is raspy. There is a knot in his throat. He is home with them too. "Daddy!" His youngest smiles and runs to him with her small arms open, his two other daughters follow suit. 

"Oh, my loves," his big arms wrapping over all of his daughters. Tears run down, happy ones. It's been two years since he last held them this way. "My lovie," Simon holds his arm out so his sweet wife can join this moment. That gentle and soft hand of hers, god it's like the heavens finally gave him peace. He sobs, it's uncontrollable and how can a man like him control such tears when after so long of losing his family...families to his job he finally has both? 

He gives kisses to all their foreheads. "Daddy, what took so long?" His eldest little princess asks. "I don't know princess, but I'm finally home," he reassures and hugs her again. Those tears run down yet again and he won't stop them. 

This is his heaven. The walls, the giggles, the hugs, and that familiar scent. Heaven is not clouds and a pearly gate for him, no, but it is this. A kitchen, his four loves, his mum, Tommy, Joseph and even Beth, everyone that has ever mattered to him is here and for once, he is in heaven. 

"Uncle Soap!" Joseph smiles. 

Soap?...Johnny?

"About time you came to the party, LT," Soap pats Simon's back. 

"Great to see you, mate." 

"Likewise. I held onto a good bottle for ya, yer girl won't let me open it though," Soap sends a teasing annoyed look at Simons's wife and a small chuckle escapes Simon. 

"She's a stubborn one, like yer, Lt." Soap teases. "I married her for a reason, isn't it right, love?" Simon can't help but smile as he gets to finally say that nickname again. "Very, Si." What a sweet delight, to have his pretty girl call him that again. 

"Price and Gaz joining?"

"Not yet, give them a few good years."

"Daddy, let's go play outside!" 

This is what he missed. The demands from his princess, the giggles, the big eyes and that pout when he would say no. "Okay, but only before your mum wipes that chocolate stain from your nose." He chuckles. "Deal," the little girl runs back to Simons's wife. 

From a corner, Simon sees Tommy. He's playing catch with his son, laughing at some dumb joke. 

It's beautiful. It's painfully beautiful how one can die on Earth but live in their heaven. 

One soldier dreams of this, they yearn for it and that is what Simon did for nearly 28 years. Now, all he has is this. No more war, no more aches, no one to chase. He can grow in this home again. He will live the life he always dreamed and right now, that is all he wants and needs. 

Yeah, you thought that this was the end

A/N: I honestly don't know where this was heading so....im sorry if it's shit

Tags:

@joyfulmarvelofavengers @ghostnna22 @hermizery @liyanahelena @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @krinoid24 @iruzias @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @anonxasian @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed

[spiderlily-w1tch-blog]

𝙰𝚖𝚊𝚓𝚒𝚔𝚒 𝚃𝚊𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒 - 𝙰𝙱𝙾 𝙿𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝙾𝚖𝚎𝚐𝚊

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

— — —

ft A!Kiri, A!Fatgum, A!Mirio, B!Midoriya, B!Nejire, B!Tsu; Pack Alpha!Tamaki

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own BNHA or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

WC: 1,885

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: probably cringey, 1(one) use of “Y/n”, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔦 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: I’m gonna be entirely honest, I don’t remember much about writing this one because I was high off my ass for most of it lmao unfortunately I’m also not super satisfied with this one but at least some of y’all seem to like this!

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

I panted as I bounced my hips back against Tamaki’s. He gripped my hips and used that as leverage to thrust his hips forward slightly, meeting my hips and letting his balls slap against Eijirou’s. Eijirou laid beneath me, his hands planted firmly on my tits, worshiping and laving over them with his rough tongue. Their scents enveloped me and hazed my mind further with their dominating and arousing scents mixing together, mingling with my own submissive and exultant one.

Both of their cocks slid hard and fast, in and out of me, filling me perfectly and stretching me with such a delicious burn. My eyes rolled to the back of my head when Tamaki rammed exactly into my cervix, making me lose sight of the rest of my pack.

Mirio, Izuku, Nejire, and Tsu all sat on the edge of my nest enjoying the show that our Alphas and I were putting on after already having had their rounds of pleasure with me. Each of their scents clung to me and permeated the air, filling it with the smell of sex, lust, sweat, and slick. Suddenly Taishirou took his place and kneeled in front of me, lifting my head to see his warm smile, a contrast from just how roughly he prefers to ravish my body.

“You ready, ‘Mega?” He asked and once he received a nod, he guided my lips to his rock-hard dick. Taking him in, he wasted no time in thrusting in, immediately breaching my throat. I gagged and convulsed for only a moment before I recomposed myself and breathed through my nose, “Good job, sweetheart..” He groaned out, keeping his cock down my throat for another moment before pulling back and letting me bob my head over his shaft. He let out a satisfied scent and mixed his Alpha pheromones with the other two surrounding me like a cocoon.

I moaned out around his length when I felt one of Tamaki’s hands leave my waist and made contact with my clit. He rubbed in tight circles and even slid his fingers down to massage where my cunt was so stretched full.

“Fuck… Alpha, she feels amazing… Tastes fantastic, too..” I heard Ei growl out against my skin, making sure to be loud enough that Tamaki could hear him.

“You’re right.. Kami, she feels fantastic..” Tamaki growled out in response, his instincts having taken over and left no room for timidity, “You hear that, baby? Fuck, you’re so good for us, you know? Fuck- So fucking good..” The sound of his cursing sent waves of more arousal through me and straight to my stretched cunt. In lieu of being able to answer, I simply let out whorish moans around the thick cock penetrating my throat.

From all the different sensations, Eijirou and Tamaki both pounding into me from behind, Tama’s fingers furiously rubbing over my clit, and Tai’s cock filling my mouth, I was sent hurdling over the edge. My 3rd orgasm since we began wracked through me and made my slick gush around two of my mates. My scent was that of a satisfied Omega, happy and content to be filled so well by my Alphas.

“Fuuuck, even I felt that, sweetheart..” Tai’s accented voice called from above me, his hand stroking over my hair to soothe me from my heightened senses. Tama’s fingers still slid over my clit but they let up a bit. Though the assault on my insides never ceased, I felt the base of Tama and Ei’s cocks begin to swell, signaling that their knots were forming. It seemed I wasn’t the only one to notice as I heard a short whine from the edge of my nest.

From his position below me, I felt Ei turn his head at the sound. ‘Must have been Izuku, then,’ my muddled mind was able to produce, the answer being confirmed when I smelled his wanton and desperate scent, practically begging for relief.

Glancing out the side of my eye, I could see Mirio take position behind his boyfriend and roughly slam into him, producing another loud whine, though this one was far lewder. Beside them, I could see Tsu ravaging Nejire’s pussy, her tongue likely buried deep inside her, reaching all of her sensitive spots. The sight of the rest of my pack, and partners, aroused me even further and had me focussing even more on the feeling of Tama and Ei’s growing knots.

Tama’s hand still on my waist gripped tighter as his pleasure grew from the feeling of his knot rubbing over the edge of my hole. His tight grip was sure to bruise but I was happy for that. More evidence that he’s who I belong to, such being reflected in my scent of happiness and longing. In my excitement, I circled my hips against my Alphas plowing into me.

“‘Mega.. Oh, Kami- ‘Mega, you feel so good. So good, my little Omega..” Tamaki started panting behind me. He leaned forward and pressed his chest against my back, never relenting his hard thrusts that reached the deepest parts of me, alongside Eijirou. His fingers started to work my clit harder again as he sucked and nipped at his Claim on my scent gland. He began to move upward, kissing up my jaw, and pressed a kiss to the apple of my cheek.

“My perfect little Omega.. Such a good girl.” He groaned into my ear, pressing a sweet, soft kiss to my temple. “Are you feeling good, Bunny?” He muttered softly, his sweetness persisting even though his Alpha instincts were in full effect.

“Mhmm! Mhmm!!” I cried out around Tai’s large cock that continued to bob in and out of my throat. The vibrations of my moans made Tai let out his own growled moans, keeping his hand steady, though gently, planted in my hair.

Tama pressed sweet, wet kisses to my scent gland again before he bit into it, right over his Claim, and sent another shockwave of pleasure through me, making me cry out as much as I could. I had been so focussed on the sensation of Tamaki laving over my scent gland and the dual cocks pounding into my fertile cunt that I hadn’t even realized Tai’s knot had formed. He made sure to never pop it inside my mouth but he continued to thrust into my mouth until I felt his hot cum shoot down my throat. He slid his cock out of my mouth and rested back on his haunches, panting as if he’d just run a marathon, and looking at me with lidded eyes filled with love. A scent of pure satisfaction emanated from him, making me chirp and purr in pride that I could properly satisfy my Alpha.

“Feel so perfect. So fucking perfect..” I felt, more than heard, Ei mumble around my nipple that he had clasped in his lips, staying cautious of his teeth. The more he sucked and groped at my tits, the more pleasure shot through my being. Tamaki’s thrusts got harder and faster as he approached his knot completely inflating. Ei cried out at the feeling of Tamaki’s cock dragging so hard and fast that it seemed to accelerate his knot’s growth.

The taste of Tai’s cum and the feeling of Ei’s assault on my breasts alongside Tamaki’s cock ramming into me with his head almost kissing my cervix had my eyes rolling to the back of my head as yet another orgasm claimed me, loud purrs vibrating my chest from the pleasure. My tightening cunt seemed to send Tama and Eiji hurdling to their end as they both popped their knots inside my cunt, almost immediately shooting their loads into me.

“Alpha!!!!” I screamed out in pleasure as I finally felt their hot seed filling me up and making my stomach swell even more from how full they made me. Not a single drop of their cum escaped from where both their knots were settled inside me, efficiently plugging me up and tying us together.

“You did so well, Y/n. Such a perfect Omega for us. You took all our cum inside you.” Tamaki said into my ear, his hand sliding up to where my stomach was bulging out, “Can you feel us? Right here. Our cum is all right here in your womb..” He muttered, pressing soothing kisses to his Claim which I could only assume was an angry red from his bite. A scent of satisfaction, happiness, and joy rolled off me in waves, accompanied by content purring and small chirps.

“Wanna be good.. Wanna be good for you.. Alpha..” I weakly muttered, turning my head to capture his lips in a wet, sloppy kiss. I faintly recognized Ei’s hands shifting to run soothingly up and down my sides, making sure to lightly massage any sore spots from rougher treatment, the softness shifting my purr from one of simple contentment to pure happiness from my Alpha caring for me.

“And you’re perfect, Omega. So, so perfect.” Tama responded, pressing another sweet kiss to my lips, “C’mere..” He started to shift us all gently to be laying on our sides, our legs tangled in a mess of limbs as their knots were still firmly locked inside me. At even the slightest movement, I whimpered in overstimulation from my abused cunt, still stretched almost too full.

At hearing my whimper, all of my pack immediately had their attention zeroed in on me. Their instincts were all screaming to protect me and ensure I’m alright. Sweet, soothing kisses were pressed to my shoulder and face by Tamaki and Eiji respectively as we finally got settled.

Only once Tamaki, our Head Alpha, gave the okay, did the rest of our pack move in to form a cuddle pile. Tai slid behind Ei and comfortably fit himself against his back, wrapping his long arm all the way around to hold Tamaki’s waist, using his other hand to reach and stroke my hair.

Nejire and Tsu curled up by our heads, Tai’s head ending up laid over Nejire’s stomach and Tsu laying mirroring her girlfriend, her fingers stroking lightly over my arm. They both pressed soft kisses to the top of my head and let out soothing chirps which I automatically returned.

Miri laid on his back, his side pressing against Tama with his head resting on Tsu’s thighs. Izu quickly moved to get supplies we would need to clean up and recover before slotting himself into Miri’s side, nestling into him and happily breathing his scent.

The combined scents of my pack and the sound of a collective purring all lulled me into a sense of security and calmness. Happiness wafted through the air in my scent, being met with happiness and love from the different scents surrounding me.

“My perfect little Omega,” Tamaki whispered, his instincts calming and letting his timidity resurface, though it seemed to be drowned out by exhaustion, happiness, and his ambient instincts to care for his Omega. I let out an answering chirp and rubbed over his head which he nestled into the crook of my neck, laying soft kisses to his Claim.

I let out another chirp of happiness to my Mates and my pack which they all readily returned before I drifted off into a comfortable sleep.

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

@frosch-thefrog

[theglassofmiddleearth]

I'm Always Funny. You're Just Not Smart Enough To Keep Up. (Teaser!)

Max Verstappen X reader

Danny Ricciardo X reader platonic.

Not sure if anyone here is an F1 fan but I've recently gotten into F1 and I've started writing a small fanfiction of Max Verstappen Fake relationship Au! Please tell me if you like this and want the rest of it! Enjoy~

Max had just broken up with his long time girlfriend Kelly Piquet. 

They had disagreed on their future plans and had decided it would be better to part ways. It was an amicable split and Max still visited Penelope. However, the media wasn’t kind to him, not that it usually was.

Fans were in a roar over the split calling him all sorts of names for the past seven months.

It wasn’t too bad until the sponsors started to look a bit concerned over the state of the media.

Y/N, being a small town girl from Perth Australia, knew Daniel Ricciardo from when she was younger. His sister Michelle would babysit Y/N from time to time and that's how she came to meet the ever enthusiastic personality that was Daniel.

Daniel, alongside Michelle, had been like an older sibling to Y/N. He would always visit her or text her to catch her up on his state of affairs. 

After his ill-fated departure from Mclaren, to which Y/N was still fuming over. He had spent two months back in Australia, lounging around before Y/N and Michelle told him to get back into what he really loved.

Sure enough, Daniel returned to RedBull as a reserve driver alongside his old teammate Max Verstappeh and Sergio “Checo” Perez.

It was at this point Max had been receiving scalding comments and the Public Relations (PR) Manager had decided it would be a good idea for Max to date someone new with good media presence. Someone who the fans were bound to like.

That is exactly where Y/N came in. She had been featured on Daniel's social media before and made small cameo’s on RedBull and Mclaren videos, wishing Danny luck in his races or even supporting him in person.  

~~~~~~

Max walked alongside Y/N at a brisk pace. They were wading through the crowd of press just before the paddock and after the car park. Y/N was slightly uncomfortable with the firm grip that Max had on her hand but refrained from speaking up. He, after all, was paying her salary, so to speak. 

“Smile,” Max grunted out. Nodding at the press and giving half smiles in a seemingly out of character style. 

Y/N, who was already smiling hissed through her teeth.

“The hell you think I'm doin’ mate?” She then turned slightly away to wave at the photographers,

“Morning! Hope you’re all well rested! Make sure to drink enough water too!” She called out to the mass of people. Y/N understood that these people had to make a living and if you were nicer to them, they were bound to return the favour, although that was easier said than done.

Verstappen kept a pleasant expression as he continued to walk past people, signing hats along the way. 

“When can we stop this damn circus act?” He hissed into her ear, his voice sounding like the grind of gravel. 

“Whenever your PR Manager lets us.” She replied, her smile unfaltering as she kept walking beside him.

“This is all a stupid waste of money and time.” He grumbled under his breath. “This whole relationship thing and the sponsors.” Y/N cocked her head knowingly and replied,

"You need those sponsors and so does RedBull. Anyways, don’t give me a hard time because of it, yeah? I’m just doing my job to the best of my ability.” It wasn't as if she didn't want the money, however she also did it to help out Danny. Apparently the situation had made Max a little crabby.

Max sighed, “You have no idea who many different people we have to play happy couple for to satisfy the sponsors.” to which Y/N smirked and retorted with.

“I dunno, maybe the whole world, Mr Formula 1 World Champion?” Max rolled his eyes dismissively, effectively losing his facade.

“Do you know how much the sponsors pay me to keep you around? Don’t smart mouth me man.” He spat out, scowling and crossing his arms defensively. He pointed at the camera’s who had now turned back to you at the suddenly escalating conversation as moths were drawn to light.

Luckily they hadn’t heard the conversation, only seen the wild gestures that Max had thrown out in exasperation. 

Y/N, being the quick thinker she was, gently patted his shoulder and stepped closer to him,

“Calm down mate, they’re looking at us. Let’s just get inside the paddock yeah? Then we can argue when we get to the motor home.” She whispered slowly, hoping to ease his stress.

“Whatever, " Verstappen muttered, his voice ever harsh and monotonous.

He led her by the small of her back past the photographers and past the gates and into the paddock. He kept you firmly by his side while remaining silent. It seemed like he wasn’t going to talk until they were both tucked into a private building. Or as private as it would get.

As they briskly walked by, they passed some children who were staring in awe at Max. Y/N smiled at the children and tugged on his short sleeve gently.

“Max, give them an autograph! Look, they're so cute. This one’s wearing a mini version of your race suit!” She exclaimed, clearly taken by the children who were bubbling with energy.

Max, as a result of Y/N’s excitement, stopped walking and looked over at her with his signature grim expression before seeing the children. His eyes shifted and his expression became light hearted and almost charming.

“Yeah, alright I’ll sign a few things for you guys.” He grinned at the kids that had gathered around began thanking him incredulously in adoration as their favourite Formula one driver signed their shirts and caps.

Max suddenly turned to Y/N with a small smile,

“Here,” he said, handing her a sharpie, “You should sign one too. They’ll like it.” Y/N shook her head, shy from the sudden attention. 

“But I’m not famous like you. They don’t know me.” She turned to the children, sheepish, waiting for them to collectively agree. Yet, to her surprise one of the younger girls reached out to hug her and exclaimed,

“I know you! You’re Max’s girlfriend! My older brother says you’re pretty!” The little girl beamed up at her and pointed at an older male of similar facial structure who was blushing.

Y/N laughed in surprise and smiled brightly at the young girl.

“Hey love! Would you like me to sign your shirt?” She kneeled down to face the girl and all the younger kids. The children that were now surrounding you went crazy, screaming “Yes!” and “Please!”

They held out their belongings for her to sign, clearly overjoyed. She laughed in delight while Max looked on, while chatting to other young fans.

Y/N gave each of them a hug before signing their shirts.

“Oh and here!” She took out a large ziplock bag that was filled to the brim with friendship bracelets she had made for the fans.

“Take these! There’s enough for all of you.” She ruffled the closest childs hair. Max watched in amusement as the children who were absolutely beside themselves, trying on their new bracelets.

“You’re good with the fans,” he said, actually sounding genuine and kind for once. Y/N shook her head, smiling and waving at the children still as they walked away.

“Nah, I just love the kids. I want them to have good memories that build into hope and motivation.” She looked at Max and gave him a small smile.

“That’s very kind of you.” Verstappen replied, sounding surprisingly sincere. They both walked towards the motorhouse and as they reached the entrance Max opened the door for Y/N and signalled for her to enter.

Y/N walked through, thanking him on the way and waved hello while passing all the staff and volunteers of the Red Bull team.

The pair made their way, through all the greetings and then into Max’s room where Max closed the door behind them both and then turned to face Y/N.

“Alright, no more fake smiles or pleasantries. He sighed, “Do you know how long we’re stuck with this whole fake relationship thing?” He asked while plopping down onto his bed, unceremoniously to which Y/N shook her head. She herself was unsure.

“Nope. I was hired for a year-long contract but it wasn’t definitive,” She sighed and sat down on his chair and spun to face him.

“I think it wouldn’t be too bad for us to be friends Max.” She sat forward with her elbows on her knees.

“It’s not like we’re attracted to each other. It would make life easier if we got along, no?" Max stared at her, inquisitive.

“Friends.” He said slowly, almost as if tasting the word before he tilted his head to say,

“Friends don't usually get paid to be with one another.” Max raised his eyebrows.

“But, I guess being friends wouldn't be too bad. It’s not like anything would happen between us anyways.” Y/N nodded and chuckled, 

“I mean, I get paid to pretend to be your girlfriend. We could totally do it from afar y’know?” she shrugged, smiling.

“That sounds like a great idea.” Max said sarcastically. 

“I’ll just yell ‘I love you’ through a megaphone at you from a distance and we’ll keep it going that way.” He smirked mischievously, crossing his arms to which Y/N burst into laughter in sheer surprise. 

“Right! That would get all the fans roaring.” She chuckled loudly, enjoying his dry humour.  She gave him a genuine smile before asking, 

“You’re really funny when you want to be huh?”

Verstappen rolled his eyes with a subtle upturn in lips at your amusement. Y/N had an instinct that he was proud of the reaction he got out of her.

“I’m funny all the time.” He retorted, “You’re just not smart enough to pick up on it.” He said with a cocky smile.

 

~~

AND THATS THE TEASER! please comment if you'd like the rest!? Thank You for reading!

[bookshelfdreams]

Izzy just can't stop fucking martyring himself, can he

bleeding on everyone around him like it's his job

A few toes are a small price to pay to have the great and terrible Blackbeard back, eh, Izzy? The fear of the crew is a small price to pay. The dead in raids are a small price to pay. Ed, dead-eyed, hollow-cheeked, drugged up and barely himself - a small price to pay.

Clearly, what Ed, what Blackbeard really needs is someone he can hurt, someone to bleed for him, and Izzy will do that, won't he, oh-so-nobly bear the pain, look how much I'm hurting for you, the least you could do is be grateful!

Mate, you are fucked in the head.

Nobody wants this. Everyone on this ship is miserable, all the damn time, including Izzy himself and still! Still! He doesn't fucking get it! When the crew literally embraces him, despite everything, still all he can do is antagonize everyone around him!

Even after he loses his leg! Even after they're saved by the Red Flag!

Because pain is predictable, isn't it. Pain, as emotions go, is simple. It hurts like a motherfucker, but at least it keeps him from sitting with his thoughts. Izzy's in a slightly better place, sitting in the cell, waiting to be executed, sure, but still all he has for Stede is "Give me your worst".

Izzy wants someone to lash out at him, because he feels terrible inside, and if someone else hurts him, he doesn't have to think about the reason why he feels so bad.

But Stede won't give him that. Finally, the unstoppable force of Izzy's need to push until someone snaps meets the immovable object of Stede being Done With Izzy's Shit. Of Stede having neither the energy nor the mental capacity to be angry at Izzy. The Look he gives Izzy is just a stronger version of what he's been doing the whole episode - refusing to rise to the bait.

Because despite how much Izzy wants someone to hurt him, this isn't about him. If he wants to grow and heal, he has to learn that his pain isn't the only thing that exists in the world.

Whether he will do that remains to be seen.

[haggishlyhagging]

"The housewife is a nobody," says Philip Slater, and almost everyone agrees. Her work is menial labor. Even more status-degrading is the unpaid nature of her job. Few deny the economic as well as the sociological importance of housework and homemaking. Housework is part of the great infrastructure on which, as David Riesman has reminded us, the entire superstructure of the economy and the government rests. If women did not supply the services of taking care of the living arrangements of workers, industry would have to do so, as in the case of lumber camps, ships, and the military. But housewives are not in the labor force. They are not paid for the services that they perform.

The low status of the wife's work has ramifications all through her marriage. Since her husband's work is not only higher in status but usually competitive, as hers is not, and he has to meet certain clothing and grooming standards or lose his job, his needs have to be catered to. If there has to be a choice, his new suit is more important than hers. This, quite apart from whatever personal or institutional prestige his work confers, tends to put him in a position of status superiority to the wife.

Housework is a dead-end job; there is no chance of promotion. One cannot grow in it. There is a saying that passes as wit to the effect that Washington is full of talented men and the women they married when they were young. The couple who began their marriage at the same stages of their development find themselves far apart in later years. "Persons who took the initiative in seeking divorce," Nelson Foote has noted, "in explaining their experience, and likewise observers of broken marriages, speak frequently of a mate's having outgrown the other. It is the husband who usually outgrows the wife." Not only does the wife not grow, but the nonspecialized and detailed nature of housework may actually have a deteriorating effect on her mind, as Mary Roberts Coolidge observed long ago, rendering her incapable of prolonged concentration on any single task. No wonder that after hours of passive, often solitary, absorption in television and radio soap operas, she comes to seem dumb as well as dull.

-Jessie Bernard, The Future of Marriage

[gabessquishytum]

Omegaverse Pornstars

Both Hob and Dream are pornstars for their different sceondary genders - they've never worked together for reasons, but lately their companies have been discussing getting their highest earners/biggest stars together for a video or two, depending on if the have chemistry.

It's generally pretty "easy" to be an alpha or omega pornstar - outside of heats+ruts, there is a very low chance of getting pregnant; heats & ruts are super regular after your first and the work is unlikely to throw a performer into either state,,,unless they somehow are meeting/with their "true mate". And honestly, true mates, made the hell up! The perfect person for you,,*scoff* both Dream and Hob having been having sex as a job for long enough that getting slick or throwing a knot is just work -- there is no magic to it.

Well,, the first day of the first shoot, Hob and Dream get a whiff of each other and ALL BETS ARE OFF. The cameras start rolling and it's maybe 5 minutes after they kiss for the first time that heat and rut hit them hard -- is it a win for the Porn companies to have a recording of true mates 1st time? Because it's not like they could be separated without someone losing a limb.

Ooo this is great, i actually haven't even considered porn in an omegaverse universe before! And I always love talking about porn au stuff!!

Dream is an alpha, and there's absolutely no mistaking him for anything else. He's slim, but there's hard muscle framing his entire body, and his stamina is legendary. He's incredibly popular not just for his appearance but for his voice. He has an alpha voice like no other, one that gets through the screen to his viewers. He says cum? Every omega watching cums on the spot. It's a talent that's got Dream to the heights of his industry and he pretty much calls the shots on his career now.

No one really expected Hob to be popular in the omega porn industry, but they were all wrong. The videos where Hob is tamed and forced to submit for an alpha always go viral. He's not particularly pretty, but hes got a very nice cunt, a very nice mouth, and there's just something about him that reels alphas in. Some say it's the way he makes eye contact with the camera. Some say it's because he looks like he's enjoying himself. Maybe it's because deep down, everyone knows that he's truly untamable.

Or so it seems, until that fateful day when he and Dream catch each other's scent. Even when the footage is edited together it's possible to see the shock in Hob’s eyes. Because he's on his hands and knees before he can even blink, presenting for his alpha and displaying his throat to be marked. It isn't acting or playing pretend anymore. Dream is right there, pressing against him and nuzzling his scent glands and Hob is purring in response! He has never, ever purred for an alpha before. But he wants this one. This gorgeous alpha with the sharp blue eyes is Hob’s, and if he doesn't get his knot in a few minutes he's going to stop presenting and start demanding.

Dream is mostly fogged up in his rut but he is also so charmed by this warm, gorgeous omega who has obviously never really submitted to anyone in his entire life. Dream thinks he's wonderful. He knows Hob’s work, just like Hob knows his, and he has high hopes for their compatability! But he should probably get his knot inside his omega before Hob stops purring and starts biting, right?

Dream and Hob do allow the company to release (part of) the recording, but only because they want to use it as a way to announce to their partnership: in both life, and work. Neither of them wants to give up their job and the solution is simple. They'll just film with each other!

Dream using his alpha voice to force bratty, unruly omega Hob to cum is going to be very popular indeed.

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics where one of the characters is jealous of another as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis/Harry -

✳️ For As Long As I Can Remember (It's Been December) by green_feelings / @greenfeelings

(E, 128k, amnesia) After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

✳️ For the Right Reasons by @juliusschmidt

(E, 105k, Bachelor au) Harry doesn’t agree to be the Bachelor expecting to find love. He’s just hoping for an exciting jaunt around the world, half a dozen new friends, and, if he’s lucky, an amazing hj or two.

✳️ Where You Lay by HamPalpert

(E, 86k, fwb) When Louis's upcoming heat threatens his success at his new dream job, he asks the best (and only) person he can think of to help him through it: his best mates' best mate, Harry Styles. 

✳️ your memory over me by @shimmeringevil

(E, 64k, exes) The worst heartbreak of Louis’ life walks right back into it when his parents invite their family friends on an all-expenses-paid trip for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Facing a past that he tried to bury long ago, Louis learns that some people have a way of sticking with you even when they’re gone.

✳️ Looking Through You (series) by @allwaswell16

(E, 49k, songfic) Just as Louis and Liam were starting out in the music industry, writing and producing for up and coming artists, a fateful meeting with new pop singer Harry Styles changes everything. 

✳️ Harry, Did You Know (that your baby boy, is married to his best friend?) by tempolarriefics / @tempolarriefix

(E, 35k, marriage pact au) 10 years ago, Louis and Zayn made a pact that if they weren't married by 30, they'd marry each other. So they do, as best mates do.

✳️ Big, Bright World by RealName

(M, 35k, office au) It really was just a little crush in the beginning, nothing to be worried about. Louis had never really liked anyone he'd worked with in the past, but he was sure he could control himself.

✳️ Holiday Greetings (And Gay Happy Meetings) by @2tiedships2

(NR, 18k, omegaverse) the one where Niall's dead car and and a foot of snow conspire to force Louis into spending time with an alpha he hates.... or does he?

✳️ i'm a captain on a jealous sea by devilinmybrain / @thedevilinmybrain

(E, 15k, canon) What Louis actually has a problem with is the way Nick Grimshaw looks at Harry.

✳️ reckless behaviour by @nouies

(E, 13k, famous/not famous) Harry is a retired football player looking for a new opportunity. Louis is the image consultant hired to help him find it.

✳️ Behind closed doors by bluegreenish / @greenblueish

(E, 10k, fwb) the one where omega Louis finds a sock on alpha Harry's door handle that causes a big misunderstanding but is also the beginning of something new.

✳️ Make Him Want to Sin by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(E, 9k, museum) Harry is a curatorial assistant at the London Museum of Natural History, on the day of the big annual gala he catches a glimpse of someone unexpected.

✳️ don't you call him baby by @femstyles

(T, 8k, exes) the one where Harry is absolutely doing fine and is definitely not still hung up on Louis. Except he is.

✳️ Grow as We Go by @larryatendoftheday

(T, 7k, proposal) Six years into their relationship, Harry and Louis hit a breaking point. Louis is tired of shoving the ring box into the back of his underwear drawer, so he throws out an ultimatum.

✳️ The Undone and The Divine by @haztobegood

(E, 4k, established relationship) the one where Harry flirts and Louis gets jealous, but it’s all part of their game.

✳️ Tide's Deathless Death by Jennifer_Kaid / @poetsreprieve

(E, 4k, pirates) He was certainly going to relieve all the navies of their plight by taking down the captain. At least then, in his relatively newfound life of piracy, he would have done one good deed.

✳️ The Sound of Silence by @musketrois

(E, 4k, established relationship) Louis had almost choked on his coffee. Xander? Of all the people Harry had been connected to over the last few years, this person was speculating Harry was secretly in love with Xander Ritz?

✳️ Just Another Ordinary Day by orphan_account

(T, 4k, omegaverse) Omega Louis finds out his best friend (who he may or may not be in love with) Harry, an Alpha, might have found someone he wants to mate with. Jealous and tired of dealing with it all, he confronts Harry and demands to know who it is.

- Rare Pairs -

✳️ your crimes are quiet, my love by lightswoodmagic / @lightwoodsmagic

(E, 97k, Zayn/Liam) A darker Miss Congeniality AU that follows Zayn and Liam, MI5 agents, partners since training and best friends, as they race to stop a serial killer. 

✳️ You Don't Care About Me (One More Night) by @lululawrence

(NR, 60k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) the one where Louis pines for Harry and Nick helps ease his way into figuring himself out through a friends with benefits sort of arrangement. Things quickly turn complicated.