#but i wanted to see so much more of her story!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dirtyvulture · 2 days ago

Text

Pandora's Box

Tomb Raider!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Enchantress!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: Natasha has spent years hunting the elusive Pandora’s Box, which many say doesn’t even exist. What happens when she not only finds it, but accidentally unleashes the sinister force hiding within?

Word count: 1736

AN: The people have asked, so I have delivered. Thanks to the anons for inspiring this one. Enjoy! :)

Image courtesy of @natromilf

“Shit!”

The curse word echoes in the chamber, making Natasha feel like for once she’s not alone. She jumps back, barely in time for the ground beneath her feet to crumble and fall away into the dark abyss. She doesn’t even hear them land, surmising she must be several hundred feet above sea level now. Her path lit by the heavy but powerful headlamp strapped to her forehead, she moves more cautiously now.

“Latvia? Really, Nat?”

“It’s a beautiful country,” she defends, pushing Clint’s legs off the desk where he had his boots resting on her world map. “Besides, Slorenia doesn’t exist anymore. But historians say Latvia is one of the countries that absorbed it after the war in 1624.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little too obvious to search Slorenia or Latvia or whatever the hell it’s called now?” Clint asks. “Surely someone else has already gone looking there.”

“But I haven’t,” Natasha says. While her ego did go to her head sometimes, there was no denying she was one of the greatest archeologists and explorers of the modern day. With her years of research and experience, and a kickass team to support her, few ancient mysteries had stumped her yet.

But this one–the Pandora’s Box, as it was known in the archeological community, had sent Natasha spiraling for years. While the name was inspired from the Greek myth, there was discourse between scholars on how much of the story was rooted in reality. Natasha was deeply fascinated by its rich and dark history, and despite the protests from her team that she was chasing a fairytale, she continued to search for clues and leads.

She was determined to prove its existence and uncover the story behind it. If anyone was qualified to do that, she was.

The cave is humid and wet, but the air is heavy and fresh, as if there were not many living creatures to inhale it. Natasha feels more at ease as she hikes through the cave, marching along at a steady pace and keeping away from the edge of the narrow path that borders a cliffside.

She’s unsure how deep the cave goes, or if she’ll even find what she’s looking for, but she’s certain she isn’t here by accident. Her teammate Steve had found an obscure news article dating a few years back of three Lativian teenagers who went exploring an unmarked cave, but were spooked out by a woman’s voice begging them to “set her free.” A team of police ventured in, but the cave was simply too large to conduct a proper search in a reasonable amount of time. No woman was ever reported being found in the cave since.

Natasha halts when her beam of light reveals a stone bridge, with a near ten-foot gap in the center. There’s no other way forward besides going back, and she doesn’t want to waste time with that. She tightens the straps of her backpack and practices taking a few large steps, then jumping off her right foot, bunching the muscles in her calf and thigh.

She has one chance.

A regular person would just turn back, or maybe use a rope to cross the gap. But not Natasha. She kept herself in superior physical shape for these adventures and had full confidence in her abilities. She goes up to where the bridge ends, peering over the edge for fun, and her stomach flips at the height of the drop.

She can’t see the bottom.

Adrenaline pumps into her muscles and she mentally steels herself for the jump. She counts back six steps from the edge, taking a deep, calming breath, then runs full-tilt towards the gap. On the sixth step, she launches herself over the abyss, aiming to grab the exposed rebar jutting out like gnarled teeth on the other side. Her gloves protect her hands from scraping, but she stops with more impact than she anticipated and the rebar slips right through her right hand.

Her bodyweight tries to drag her down into the abyss, but she refuses to let it win. Staying calm, she finds a new hold amongst the rubble, shoving at it aggressively before she trusts it to hold her. With both hands now properly anchored, she slowly eases herself up and crawls onto the remains of the bridge, her heart pounding so hard against her chest she can see the visible thumping.

She drinks a few sips of water from her pack before she feels oriented enough to continue, more motivated than ever.

“It can’t actually exist,” Steve says, sipping from a glass of Coke while Natasha and Clint nurse beers. “I mean, we’re talking about witchcraft. Supernatural stuff. There has never been scientific evidence for it, anywhere in the history of the world.”

“This could be the first then,” Clint says. He was always more of a believer than Steve was, but that was why Natasha liked working with them both.

Steve shakes his head. “What makes this mystery so different from the others?” He directs his question to Natasha. “You’ve spent years looking for Pandora’s Box. I’ve seen you pass over cases in just a few months because you don’t think it’s worth pursuing. What makes this one different?”

Natasha stares into her beer as the white foam melts away. She wants to give him an articulate answer, but the truth is, she doesn’t really know. She was a second-year student in college when she was first introduced to Pandora’s Box, and had been intrigued ever since. Did it hold the solution to world peace, or was it just another instrument of destruction?

Natasha’s legs are heavy from the effort of an additional hour-long hike since she jumped across the gap in the bridge. She stops only to refuel with some protein bars and more water. She doesn’t know how much longer she should go on for until it’s time to turn back. As much as she’d like to, she can’t explore this cave forever.

She comes to a fork in the path and contemplates her decision. The right path is open, and leads around a bend she can’t see after a hundred feet. The left path is covered by a rock ceiling barely above her own height.

“Go left.”

Natasha obeys the voice in her head without further hesitation.

“They called her the Enchantress,” Clint reads from the textbook. “That much scholars can agree on. Everything else is pretty much up for debate. Some say that she could fly, move objects with her mind, or even tell other people what to do.”

“All nonsense,” Steve dismisses. “No human being can do any of those things.”

“They never said she was human,” Natasha points out.

“Then what else could she be?” Steve asks. “A god? A witch?”

“An enchantress,” Clint repeats, slapping his hand on the textbook for emphasis.

“No such thing,” Steve insists. “She was just some poor kid who got killed in the war, and then the locals made up stories about her to scare invaders. And future historians, because no one can seem to agree on what really happened or where she ended up.”

Natasha clicks her tongue; she hates it when Steve simplifies the facts, even if they are accurate. But that isn’t the whole truth and they both know it. Natasha wants to learn who the “Enchantress” really was and if there was any justification to the horrors that made up her life.

The narrow path suddenly widens into a large, circular room. In the center, is a pedestal, conveniently highlighted by a ray of sunlight pouring in through a hole in the ceiling. Natasha feels her stomach clench when she eyes a box atop the pedestal, barely bigger than a laptop, wrapped in rusting chains and intricate carvings. She tries approaching with caution, but the pull of curiosity is too great and she rushes to the pedestal for a closer look. The box is made of wood, the chains metal, and the engravings are painted over with gold.

Natasha has enough sense to survey the room for any hidden doors, windows, or even people, before she touches the box, but she seems to be alone. She picks up the box delicately, wondering if the transfer of its weight will set off a trap.

Nothing happens.

Tucking it against her chest, Natasha notes it’s not as heavy as she thought it would be, but the significance of what it might hold weighs like a metric ton on her mind. She steps away from the pedestal, and feels a tile depress under her foot.

A volley of rusty arrows shoot out of the wall from either side of her. A sharp pain radiates from her left thigh and her leg buckles. She throws her arms out to brace her fall and watches with immediate regret as the box tumbles to the floor faster than she can catch it.

The box lands on a corner and Natasha hears the wood crack. The chains might as well have been for show at the way they disintegrate and the lid flies open. A blinding light white fills the room and Natasha curls into a ball on the ground, her eyes squeezed shut.

“Enchantress.” Natasha hears a soft whisper, so faint she thinks she’s imagined it. She’s too scared to open her eyes and curls up tighter.

“Pretty little thing,” the voice says, with a slight accent she can’t place. “Thank you.”

Natasha swears a hand, solid and hot, presses against her cheek for a moment, leaving her skin burning. Then the white light extinguishes as suddenly as it appeared. She hesitantly cracks one eye open, then the other.

She’s still alone in the dark, damp room. Blood soaks her pant leg where the arrow tore through her flesh. The box lays open, empty, next to her. She touches her cheek, which is flushed with heat but she’s unsure if it’s from her own blood flow pounding beneath her skin.

The silence feels never-ending as she sits there, staring at the box. She can’t believe she dropped it, but more so that it was completely empty. Or was it? Natasha knows something is wrong, an unexplainable shift in her gut that she can’t interpret in the moment.

She quickly bandages her leg, then reaches for the box, closing it up pointlessly and limping out of the cave.

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

AN: Just wrote something short to test the waters, so let me know if you'd like me to continue :)

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut

216 notes · View notes

sublimepizzastarfish · 3 days ago

Text

Hope this helps!

"One day there was an anonymous present sitting on my doorstep--Volume One of Capital by Karl Marx, in a brown paper bag. A joke? Serious? And who had sent it? I never found out.

"Late that night, naked in bed, I leafed through it. The beginning was impenetrable, I couldn't understand it, but when I came to the part about the lives of the workers--the coal miners, the child laborers--I could feel myself suddenly breathing more slowly. How angry he was. Page after page.

"Then I turned back to an earlier section, and I came to a phrase that I'd heard before, a strange, upsetting, sort of ugly phrase: this was the section on 'commodity fetishism,' 'the fetishism of commodities.' I wanted to understand that weird-sounding phrase, but I could tell that, to understand it, your whole life would probably have to change. His explanation was very elusive. He used the example that people say, 'Twenty yards of linen are worth two pounds.'

"People say that about every thing that it has a certain value. This is worth that. This coat, this sweater, this cup of coffee: each thing worth some quantity of money, or some number of other things--one coat, worth three sweaters, or so much money--as if that coat, suddenly appearing on the earth, contained somewhere inside itself an amount of value, like an inner soul, as if the coat were a fetish, a physical object that contains a living spirit.

"But what really determines the value of a coat? The coat's price comes from its history, the history of all the people involved in making it and selling it and all the particular relationships they had. And if we buy the coat, we, too, form relationships with all those people, and yet we hide those relationships from our own awareness by pretending we live in a world where coats have no history but just fall down from heaven with prices marked inside. 'I like this coat,' we say, 'It's not expensive,' as if that were a fact about the coat and not the end of a story about all the people who made it and sold it, 'I like the pictures in this magazine.' A naked woman leans over a fence. A man buys a magazine and stares at her picture. The destinies of these two are linked. The man has paid the woman to take off her clothes, to lean over the fence. The photograph contains its history--the moment the woman unbuttoned her shirt, how she felt, what the photographer said. The price of the magazine is a code that describes the relationships between all these people--the woman, the man, the publisher, the photographer--who commanded, who obeyed. The cup of coffee contains the history of the peasants who picked the beans, how some of them fainted in the heat of the sun, some were beaten, some were kicked.

"For two days I could see the fetishism of commodities everywhere around me. It was a strange feeling. Then on the third day I lost it, it was gone, I couldn't see it anymore."

--Wallace Shawn, The Fever (1990)

#wallace shawn

21K notes · View notes

impala-dreamer · 2 days ago

Text

Like Heaven

A Supernatural Story

~Y/N’s request might throw him off for a second, but he’s never going to deny her, not when it feels so good in her arms…~

Dean Winchester x F!Curvy Reader

1,302 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Spanking, Dean POV, Sex

For @jacklesversebingo “What, you afraid you might break me?” | Originally published to Patreon Dec 2024

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

I’ve been to Heaven.

I have shared a beer with God.

But I have never seen anything as holy, as awe-inspiring, as fucking beautiful as when she’s riding me.

She’s usually shy, but fuck, when she gets going, when she really lets herself relax, she’s incredibly sexy. She lets her full weight drop down on me, and it’s some kinda magic because I lose my mind feeling all of her softness. The curves on this woman would drive a person to tears and they have gotten me more than once, I ain’t gonna lie. Her skin is the softest thing I’ve ever felt, and when she’s this close, I can’t take my hands off her.

Her lips are like goddamned magnets for mine; her mouth is like a drug. I physically can’t stop touching her, kissing her, tasting her. I would spend all night between those thick, juicy thighs just lapping at her sweet pussy if she’d let me. I would drown happily in her cum. Not even joking.

The noises she makes while I’m down there are so fucking hot, half the time I’m just rutting into the bed for some relief. She gets me going so fast, gets me so hard just with those fucking whimpers and moans and fuck- when she says my name in that high pitched, breathless kinda way, I am fucking done for.

Part of me wants to flip her over and go back to town on that beautiful cunt, but she is working some kinda spell on me right now. I feel like my brain is broken. I can't stop staring at her tits as she bounces on my cock. Up and down, it’s fucking mesmerizing. And her ass- so plump, slapping my thighs with each downward push. I can’t help but grab a handful, dig my nails into her cheeks.

Oh, she likes that. Got her biting her bottom lip. Fuck, I love that. Don’t hold back, baby…

“Dean…”

Fuck. I can’t take much more. She’s squeezing my cock like that’s the only thing she was born to do and I am not fucking complaining. Jesus. She’s so wet I can hear it. So fucking warm the rest of me feels cold.

“Fuck, Dean!”

God, she’s rolling her hips, grinding down. Fuck. If reincarnation is real, I wanna come back as her dildo so I can feel this every night. I could spend eternity like that… shoved deep into her cunt, being used to make her cum. Sounds fucking perfect.

She slams down and tightens on me and my cock is throbbing so hard it’s making every other muscle contract. I dig my nails into her ass again and she lets out a sharp moan.

“Yes! Fuck!”

Her jaw drops, her head falls back and I squeeze her ass again. A shiver runs through her, shaking her fully and I’m losing my mind. I wanna see her eyes roll back, wanna hear her scream.

“Please…”

I almost don’t hear it, her whisper’s so soft.

“What’s that baby? What do you need?”

She shakes her head like she can’t think, and sweetheart, that makes two of us.

I slide my hands from her ass to her hips and hold tight. I love how my fingers dent into her softness, making dimples of flesh. So fucking hot.

“Tell me what you want,” I say, holding her tight and taking over for a second. I jerk my hips up into her and I swear it looks like she’s about to fall apart. “Tell me.”

She takes a breath and looks down at me. Her eyes are heavy and hazy, her lips parted. If I could reach, I would suck on those pretty lips, hold her close until we’re breathing for each other.

She seems nervous but I buck up again and she moans it out, letting go of her worry.

“Spank me…”

Time freezes for a second as I wrap my head around her request. Sure, I’ve spanked a few chicks in my day, but she’s never asked before. I didn’t think she’d be into it.

Her palms hit my chest as she falls forward. “Please…”

Now, I am nothing if not a people pleaser, so I give her a little wink before slapping her left cheek.

She tenses up on impact and fuck if it doesn’t make her pussy even tighter.

“Harder…”

I kinda hover over her ass debating how hard I should go. Gotta remember, I can knock a demon right out of a guy with a good right hook, so I need to be careful.

She sucks in a breath and I spank her again. I can feel the sting on my palm so I know she’s feelin’ it too.

A shudder goes through her straight into me and I bite my lip so I don’t say something corny or sexist. But fuck if there’s not some porn level filth runnin’ through my head.

“Harder,” she says again, curling her fingers into my chest. It feels good but her nails are so long I’m afraid she might scratch off my tat.

I hit her again and she smiles a bit, but still wants more.

“Come on, Dean! Hit me!”

Two taps this time and she groans.

“What, you afraid you might break me?”

Now she’s got my blood boilin’ all over again and I let her have it. My hand cracks over her ass and I’m sure for a second I’ve gone too far but she melts like butter on a biscuit.

“Fuck… yes…”

Her entire body tingles and her pussy swallows me down. Fuck, she’s so tight I’m not gonna last much longer.

“Again. Please!”

I can’t see it, but I’m sure I’m leaving a handprint on her backside. I slap the same spot and she falls down, her tits crushing against my chest.

“Yes…”

She’s licking at my lips and I crack her plump ass again.

“Fuck, Dean!”

I spank her again and she muffles a scream in my chest.

She’s bouncing on me even faster now, getting wetter with each crack. I swear to God my vision’s going blurry and my heart is beating so fast I feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack but what a way to go.

Suddenly, she’s up again and I’m stuck there, somewhere between death and an orgasm. She leans back, puts her hands on my thighs and stretches herself out over me. She’s using me like a goddamned fuck toy and I am loving every minute of it.

She bites her lip and I slide my hand over her soft belly, turn my fingers down and tap on her clit.

She shakes like she’s being electrocuted so I do it again.

“God, Dean!”

Now, I’m far from being the Almighty, but I’ll take it in the bedroom setting.

“Yeah? You like that?” I ask, rubbing at her little nub and watching as her thighs start trembling.

She nods, so far away from being able to speak anymore.

“You gonna cum on my dick?”

As soon as I say it, it’s like I pressed a button and she does. She fucking cums hard on my cock. Her insides are pushing and tugging on me like some kinda damned finger trap and I can’t hold on any longer.

She’s still pulsing and I sit up and grab her, bury my face in her tits. She’s barely holding on but I got her, keeping her right there as I jerk up into her a few final times until I’m fucking broken. Cumming. Done.

I can’t let her go. Not just yet.

She’s wrapped her arms around me, got her fingers running along my scalp. I can hear her heart beating, feel her breath slowing down.

It’s fucking heaven here with her and I never wanna leave.

2025 Tag List:

@alwaystiredandconfused @caplanbuckybarnes @cevenasdove-baby @cosicas-cuquis @deanwinchesterswitch

@feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @illicithallways @Jackles010378 @k-slla

@luvr4miya @Mxtansy @nightxcreature @peytongoose @shadyloveobject

@somebrokeartstudent @the-wounded-healer05 @zepskies

Add Yourself To The List

#spn fanfiction #curvy reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester/you #supernatural fanfiction #jacklesversebingo 25

170 notes · View notes

cryinggirlnamedhelen · 1 day ago

Text

girl dads!

ft; reo, barou (bllk), osamu (hq!!!), sanji (op), kurapika (hxh)

girl dad!reo, who is always giving his beloved little princess anything she wants. does she want to have pasta for dinner tonight? say no more, he's calling the most authentic restaurant from italy to ship their most delicious and high quality dish at the fastest that they can. does she want to go to an amusement park? of course, he'll rent out the largest amusement park in tokyo, and he'll even buy it if she especially enjoys it. you're always scolding him, saying that he's coddling her too much, but reo just laughs it off every damn time. after all, how is he supposed to deny his lovely baby daughter, who resembles her beautiful mother so much? both of you are his pride and joy, after all.

girl dad!barou, who is both the breadwinner and the housewife of the family. he can't believe it; it's like taking care of his younger sisters and pregnant mother all over again. both of his daughters cling to him every day, and barou eventually begrudgingly accepts his fate. reading them stories every night, cooking for them, teaching them how to do their homework, teaching them how to clean, cleaning for them, taking them out shopping, feeding them, and attempting to talk to them as gently as he possibly can. he admits that he might be just a little bit protective of them, especially considering how many veins pop out whenever he sees them at elementary school, being a little too close with a little boy nearby.

girl dad!osamu, who is already teaching his little girl how to make the best onigiri. at age 4, she already seems to be an incredible fit to take over onigiri miya when you and osamu are both going to retire in decades. every night, no matter how grueling business was that day, osamu always makes sure to spend time with his daughter, whether it's feeding her or reading her a story or telling her about a new recipe of his. when she has a nightmare, she climbs into your and osamu's bed on osamu's side, clinging to him in her sleep. whenever she gets a good score, she always shows osamu first. you're definitely a little jealous, but you can't help but feel warm and happy at the same time.

girl dad!sanji, who would never dare raise his voice or hand against his sweet daughter. he truly adores her more than anything else--aside from you, his beloved wife, of. always hoisting his daughter's small, chubby body over his shoulders while teaching her how to cook, always showing her different moves for her to defend herself against creeps, always refusing to smoke around her to protect “her precious lungs” (quoted directly from sanji), always clashing with zoro whenever he says something even slightly harsh to sanji's daughter, always protecting her from everyone and everything. you say that he pampers her too much, but he just grins and tells you that it's fine.

girl dad!kurapika, who refuses to believe that his daughter could ever do any wrong. his arms are crossed at the principal's office, his small daughter seated next to him. apparently, she had punched a kid for making fun of her; kurapika thinks it's ridiculous. if the kid didn't want a consequence, then he shouldn't have made fun of her in the first place. kurapika is a busy man, running the nostrade family's mafia, he doesn't have time for some idiotic fools who only look at things one-sidedly, especially on a side against his daughter. he snappily tells the principal some snappy remarks before taking his daughter's hand and leaving, telling her that she did nothing wrong and that the school is just stupid.

a/n: i wanted to include kurama from yu yu hakusho so bad, but like no one knows yu yu hakusho these days😢

202 notes · View notes

direquail · 2 days ago

Text

so, my critique is less "it would take an unrealistically moral person to not do what he did", and more "I'm very tired of takes about John that make him this flat, un-nuanced, ultimate evil."

To your point about sexual assault: Most of the folks making those arguments about John and Harrow would probably not argue that Harrow was sexually abusing Gideon at the beginning of the series. But the abuse depicted is extremely sexually charged, and it would not take much work at all to argue that there was much, much worse happening offscreen. But the fandom is very interested in seeing Harrow in a more sanitized light (with some exceptions), so that isn't as explored, or if it is, it doesn't get quite as far. So why treat John differently?

I am really, deeply tired of readings that preferentially paint some characters as sexual abusers. Especially men, especially in a fandom that has a sizable lesbian fanbase. And I am saying this as a lesbian. John becomes a figurehead for patriarchy itself, with all of the violence and abuse we all know about, and then his actions are re-interpreted in light of that in a way that flattens the ways Muir complicates his position. Muir has even stated that he has an uneasy relationship with his role as "God the Father," but finds himself reproducing what he knows.

And that statement, specifically, is what I'm bringing to bear on my reading of John.

But my original post was, in large part, in response to people arguing that John was sexually abusing Harrow. I think it's a valid reading, but I don't want anything to do with it. As an analysis, I don't think it's a very good one, because once you bring sexual abuse, especially CSA, into the equation, any other analysis stops. That person becomes the villain in discussions of the text, end of story, and nothing else about them matters. It dominates the analysis and it dominates the story, which is why I think Tamsyn Muir left it out of the book. You can't talk about anything else if John is the embodiment of patriarchy, sexual abuse, and colonialism. You can't talk about how John's desire for vengeance warped him, or how his need for control warped his relationships with other people, because literally no one wants to find anything relatable about a sexual abuser in a book.

There are more interesting things to do with male villains in books focused on women than make them sexual abusers. There are more interesting things to do with religious trauma in a male-dominated faith than make it all come back to sexual abuse. There are more interesting ways for John to fail Harrow than by sexually abusing her and being a figurehead for patriarchy and colonialism.

It strangles the discourse and what's available for people to talk about.

I think what bothers me most about how John is talked about in the fandom is the implication that a different (implied: better) person would've done things differently and somehow more right than he did.

When the text goes to lengths to explore how suddenly coming into an incredible amount of power in a fatally constrained situation cannot lead to a good outcome.

If you're putting John in dialogue with the concept of the "magical girl", which Muir has said he is (a little tongue in cheek, but)--these are young, often profoundly unready people, who often get taken advantage of by the people who give them their powers. And like, yes, John is not a teenager, but I think that's part of the point, is that at no point is a person really prepared to become as powerful as he did--even before he merged with Alecto. Even when he was fully in control of his powers, even when they were given with honest intent and trust, even when he used them with the best of intentions and tried to do the right thing, there was no way for him to be prepared, especially given the situation he was in.

And it's funny to talk about how bad John must be in bed, but also, this isn't a scenario where John is some self-deluding Elon Musk-like villain or loser. He is genuinely trying to do the right thing, in terms of rescuing the Earth's population, rescuing the Earth Herself, and doing it ethically (see: M--'s insistence that they perfect the cryo containers until they could transport pregnant women).

I really do think this is something people are blocking out, because it is one of the uncomfortable parts of Muir's message with the series. But ESPECIALLY because the people "critiquing" him as an embodiment of patriarchy and empire are failing to see that part of Muir's critique is of human vulnerability to power: That is, that power corrupts.

And this even has echoes with Gideon & Harrow's story! Harrow begins the series in a deeply unequal dynamic with Gideon! And she does horrible things, not just because she is traumatized, but because she is traumatized and has the power to act her desires out on Gideon. She might have the motive (trauma), but that's not enough without the means (power).

And, yeah, I do have a semi-salty angle on this because people are frequently loath to think critically not just about axes of oppression but individual relationships of power when it applies to them and to people they like. ESPECIALLY when there is a very vocal segment of the fandom that is enthusiastically pro-harassment. It's very convenient to villainize John and actively dis-identify with him, because otherwise, you'd have to face the question of whether you'd do any better in his place. But the thing is, the mission of revenge he embarks on is a lot closer to many peoples' hearts than they'd like to consider.

That's the whole point.

#the locked tomb #csa mention

3K notes · View notes

munsonsmixtapes · 2 days ago

Note

Hello, could you write something about Steve please ? They're not together yet, but reader who's shameless and says everything that goes trough her/their mind says "Damn I wanna kiss you" in the middle of a conversation with him. I found that funny, but maybe there's a lil story we can make with that ?

You've always been the kind of person who says everything they're thinking and people tend to either love or hate that about you. Steve, though, that's his favorite thing about you. He loves that you're shameless about speaking your mind. He loves that you just say whatever thought comes to your head no matter what it is.

Your mind is such a beautiful thing and he loves when you give him a glimpse inside it, especially when you talk about something that you're passionate about. He could listen to you talk for hours.

He often wonders if it's obvious that he's madly in love with you when he listens to you speak. If you know, you certainly haven't said anything. You're smart so he's sure it's only a matter of time before you figure him out.

He knows you love him too. He can see it so clearly in the way you talk to him, looking at him like you have hearts in your eyes. Well, that and Robin drunkenly told him one night and when he confronted her the next morning, she confirmed that it was true.

So he's been trying so hard to figure out how to ask you about it. He invited you over for dinner and a movie with the intention of asking about it, but he doesn't want to scare you away. So he's just listening to you speak with that lovesick look on his face while you go on and on about a show you've been trying to get him to watch. He'd much rather just have you explain it. It's much more interesting that way, he's sure.

Now you're about to put on a movie the two of you have seen a billion times and for whatever reason, you're looking at him differently. You're about to blurt something, he just knows it. He knows you like the back of his hand, every single mark on your face, every single quirk.

"Damn, I really want to kiss you," you tell him and his eyes light up, the honey color lighting up in the warm glow of the lamp that's shining on his face from the table that's behind you.

"You want to kiss me?" He asks with a laugh and you just nod, scooting closer so that your faces are only inches apart.

"I do," you nod. "Can I?" You ask in a hopeful whisper.

"Honey," He laughs, leaning in ever more. "I thought you'd never ask." He then takes your face in his hands, his lips slotting between yours in what he's convinced is the best kiss of his life with fireworks exploding between the two of you.

You pull away too soon for his liking with a grin on your face that only makes him want to kiss you again so he does. The two of you stay like the rest of the night, not even bothering to turn on the movie because you're so caught up in each other. As he's got you lying against the couch, Steve's convinced that he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n

117 notes · View notes

checkeredflagggs · 20 hours ago

Text

Febuwhump Day 14: Becoming the Monster

pairings: gen

summary: a story about y/n, Redbull’s new second driver, told in non-sequential order

a/n: I love febuwhump and have participated before for other fandoms but this is a first for me — attempting to compete it via smau only. Hopefully I can write a complete story eventually and I will be posting it on its own masterlist in the correct order to read but it’ll be written based on the febuwhump prompt list! @febuwhump

a/n2: based on the 2024 year; sorry checo but you got replaced earlier!

a/n3: listen I like Lando but I needed a villian here

Masterlist | Taglist

y/n_gossip

liked by user, user, and 1,836,622 others

tagged: y/n_rb, landonorris

y/n_gossip: it seems like little Lando Norris might be thinking of a matador career — he keeps tempting the bulls! After a few close calls with Verstappen, Norris and L/N collided resulting in a DNF for our girl with some pretty harsh words coming from both of their radios afterwards.

view all comments

user1: this is what racing is!

↳user2: I know — I was on the edge of my seat…

user3: pretty harsh?? Girl sounded like she was gonna run him down on foot and take him out

↳user4: lol did you see the rb team after she got back to the garage?

↳user5: they literally just picked her up and moved her away from the reporters 😂😂

user6: oh the post race interviews are gonna slap

↳user7: I can’t wait!

user8: that’s so completely unfair! y/n was ahead at the apex — Lando should have given it away, not crashed into her

↳user9: seriously?? Where on earth did you get that information??

↳user8: uhh by watching the screen??

user10: oh shit….

↳user11: Lando’s post interview??

↳user10: how dare he say something like that???

f1gossip

liked by user, user, and 1,457,987 others

Transcript:

interviewer: and what are your thoughts on y/n and your collision today?

Lando: obviously not ideal. You know you never want to be in a collision- especially when it’s not your fault. Y/N…she should spend less time with Max, don’t need her becoming another monster, ya know…

f1gossip: what an interview! During his post race interview for Austria 2024, where he was forced to dnf after two different collisions with both Redbulls, Norris didn’t hold back his thoughts. During this brief moment, he talked about the close friendship between this year’s Redbull drivers — saying that y/n (a rookie) should take a step back from her more senior teammate because no one “[needed] her becoming another monster,”. He also went on to say that he was losing respect for Verstappen and the way he raced.

view all comments

user12: did he really just fucking say that?

↳user13: oh my god he did

↳user14: it’s even worse when you actually watch it because you can just barely see max next to him — when Norris said this, both max and the interviewer froze

↳user13: i mean i would too. That’s a really harsh thing to say about someone

user15: people want cunty f1 back again but can’t handle this little spat??

↳user16: cunty? Yes. Whatever this was? Absolutely not

user17: he’s just salty she’s better then him

↳user18: how do you figure that??

↳user17: she literally won her very first f1 race? He’s been racing for years and only just won his first this year

↳user18: it doesn’t count really. Everyone knows that redbull cheats

↳user17: oh my god just shut up

user20: i feel bad for y/n…it really wasn’t her fault nor did it affect lando too much but he’s (someone she’s said she looks up too before) putting her on blast with some pretty harsh words…

↳user21: she looks up to him??

↳user20: yeah! She’s said multiple times that she really admires how open he is talking about his mental health and that she really wanted to emulate him

↳user21: oh ouch…then today and that interview has got to hurt…

user22: anyone else interested in what she’s gonna do to retaliate?

↳user23: 🙋🏾‍♀️🙋🏾‍♀️

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff @msimpala-67

98 notes · View notes

ayrtonswnna · 2 days ago

Text

"TROUBLESOME!" 〃 oscar piastri x lila morris (female!oc)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✧₊⁺ oneshot. fluff/crack. word count: 4.2k +

✧ my masterlist! ✧ requests are open! ✧ more osc!

five times oscar went to his girlfriend's rescue; she has a history.

warnings: character facing racism, fun couple, osc being a softie, not much happening i just liked the concept, sweet and supportive couple. would probably write a texting au of this.

01. THE MCLAREN 720S

Lila wanted to drive the supercar the moment it was parked inside her boyfriend’s garage.

The boyfriend in question—a man professionally skilled behind the wheel—knew it wasn’t a good idea. But, yeah. She had those big brown eyes, round like a puppy’s, lips plump in a perfect pout, looking so damn kissable. And there they were.

"Alright. No parallel parking, no over-speeding. And—" Oscar paused, exhaling through his nose. "You go to college and come back home. Alright?" He handed her the keys, and before he could react, they slipped from his fingers as Lila jumped excitedly.

"Yes! Yes, babe! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I swear I’ll take care of her!" She launched herself at him, pressing messy kisses all over his face. He chuckled, cheeks flushing as he tried to keep his cool. "I love you! I love you, Osc! I’ll reward you for this! Byeee!"

"Yeah, love you too. See ya."

It took about three hours.

A call from an unsaved number—he already knew where it was coming from.

Another McLaren out of the garage. Another trip straight to the police department. Another worried Oscar Piastri behind the wheel, just hoping his girlfriend wasn’t hurt—or in too much trouble.

"What did you do this time?" he sighed, walking into the room where she was properly locked in.

Lila looked up at him, mischief sparkling in her eyes. "Proudly informed the officer that his mom didn’t ask me if I stole the car when I fucked her in the backseat last night."

Oscar rubbed his face. Exasperated. And yet, somehow, his heart softened.

Lila had a way of making chaos seem like just another part of her charm. She was impulsive, and he was well aware of her short temper when it came to authority. He was also aware that, as a woman of color, the scrutiny she faced behind the wheel of an expensive car was different. He could drive the McLaren a hundred times and never get pulled over. But for her? It was a different story.

"Of course you did," he muttered, scratching his face, more tired than anything.

Oscar wasn’t the type to make a scene. He had enough influence to cause trouble if he wanted to, but he wouldn’t—not with Lila around. She’d kill him for it.

"I’ll pay, and we’ll go, alright?" He sighed as an officer approached, probably to guide him through the process.

"Not your fault." Lila smiled, that same mischievous gleam still in her eyes. "Thank God you’re a millionaire, or I’d be locked up for life."

"I wouldn’t let that happen, even if we were debt-ridden." Oscar raised an eyebrow. "Wait here, alright? Love ya."

"Love you too." She grinned as he was led through the hallway.

"Is this... is this girl with you?" an officer asked, eyeing him with confusion.

Oscar frowned. "Yes. My girlfriend."

"Oh, so the car is yours, then?" The officer scoffed. "I knew it wasn’t hers. If she wasn’t so dirty-mouthed, this could’ve ended without your wallet."

Oscar’s expression darkened. "Yeah, she’s running out of patience for people like you," he said flatly. "And I don’t blame her. Now, where do I sign? How much do I need to pay?"

"Your little girlfriend committed a crime, Mr. Piastri. It’s not about patience—it’s unlawful."

"Having an expensive car was her crime, I guess." Oscar shrugged. "But it’s fine. She’s tough. She’s used to this mess. Let me pay, and I’ll take her and her car home."

The officer exhaled, reluctant but defeated. The process was quick, and soon enough, Oscar had the keys back in his hand. He returned to Lila, shaking his head as she smirked up at him.

"Let’s go, troublemaker," he said, voice laced with fond exasperation. "For once, I think you’re the victim in this."

02. NIGHT OUT

Oscar and Lila had been dating since middle school. Oscar, as calm and quiet as he was, was used to waiting for Lila at home on her nights out with her college friends. That night was no different.

He usually stayed awake, just in case of an emergency. Again, that night was no different. Her name flashing across his phone at past three a.m. meant only one thing: trouble.

"Heeey, Osc! The famous boyfriend of the crew!" a voice slurred.

Not Lila.

"Yeah, that’s me," he chuckled, already out of bed. "What’s going on? Where’s Lila?"

"So… Okay, handsome. Let me break it down to you. I didn’t know she-she could go so far! Fuckity fuck! Your girl is a beast!"

Oscar sighed. If her friend was like this, he could only imagine Lila.

Minutes later, he pulled up to the club she had surely mentioned before heading out. The moment he spotted her sitting on the sidewalk, bundled up in her coat, little purse hanging around her neck, and eyes droopy from exhaustion, he wanted to laugh.

"Babyyyyyy… helloooo, baby." She beamed up at him, lips trembling from the cold. "Hey, I missed you."

"Missed you too, bug. What are you doing all alone?" He took her purse off her shoulder, slinging it over his before crouching down. "Had too much to drink, huh?"

"No, baby. Nooo, I didn’t drink that much." She blatantly lied, letting herself melt into his arms as he scooped her up. "Wooow, that is sooo good. You’re like my prince, right? You are my prince."

"I do save you from a lot, guess I can handle that title." He carried her to the car, setting her inside with practiced ease. "Alright, saved princess. If you need to throw up, tell me. Seriously. Tell me."

"I love this car, Oscie. I would never ruin our beautiful seats." She smiled that same childish smile before sighing dramatically. "I looove you… Osc, I love you sooooo much."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I love you too, bug."

Lila let out a dramatic gasp, eyes widening. "No, no, nooo, you don’t get it. I love you soooo much it hurts! Like, physically. Ow."

Oscar raised a brow, fighting back a smile. "It hurts?"

"Yes!" she threw her hands up, nearly smacking herself in the face. "Because you're so pretty, Oscar. It’s not fair. How do you get to be this pretty and this nice? Huh? Explain that."

"Genetics, I guess?" he teased, turning onto their street. "Or maybe you're just very, very drunk."

"Noooo, you don’t understand!" she sniffled, and Oscar’s amusement instantly turned into concern as he glanced at her again. Her lower lip trembled, eyes welling up with tears. "You’re so pretty. And I love you. And you always pick me up and take care of me and��" a small hiccup interrupted her sentence—"and you’re the best person in the whole world, and I don’t deserve you."

Oscar sighed, softening immediately. "Bug, of course you deserve me. Don’t start crying."

"But I dooo," she wailed, rubbing at her eyes and sniffling dramatically. "You’re perfect and I’m just—"

"My perfect drunk mess of a girlfriend," he interrupted gently, pulling into the driveway and shutting off the car. "Come on, love, let’s get you inside before you make me cry too."

Lila let out a tiny giggle through her sniffles, letting Oscar scoop her up again without protest. "I love when you carry me," she sighed dreamily, nuzzling against his shoulder. "You’re so strong. My prince."

"Yeah, yeah, your prince is getting you showered and in bed before you pass out on me."

Inside, Oscar skillfully maneuvered her towards the bathroom, setting her down on the closed toilet lid. She blinked up at him, cheeks still pink and eyes dazed. "You’re so pretty," she whispered again, reaching for his face with clumsy fingers. "It’s distracting."

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he grabbed a washcloth and ran it under warm water. "Alright, alright, enough of that. Let’s get you cleaned up."

The shower was more of a quick rinse—Oscar mostly helping her wash her face and change into one of his hoodies before guiding her toward the kitchen. He made her sit on the counter as he grabbed a water bottle and a snack.

"Eat this, bug. It’ll help."

She pouted but took a bite, eyes never leaving him. "M’sorry for crying."

"It’s okay."

"You forgive me?"

"Always."

A lazy smile spread across her face. "You're the best boyfriend ever. I love you so much."

Oscar pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I know. Now finish that so I can get you to bed."

By the time he tucked her in, Lila was already dozing off, still mumbling about how pretty he was. He just chuckled, brushing her hair back before turning off the light. "Goodnight, drunk bug."

03. PADDOCK BUREAUCRACY

"C’mon, you guys! It’s me! I do this every other week! What the—C’mon, help me here! You know me!"

They might, in fact, know her. Lila was a recognizable face in the paddock—getting the wrong passes, wanting to be everywhere, causing a fuss with fans, sneaking into public viewing areas, and inevitably getting in trouble trying to come back. A security nightmare, a fan favorite. A gift or a curse, depending on who you asked.

"No pass, no access, lady. I’m sorry." The security guard stood firm at the entrance.

"Oh, man. Pleeeease. Please. My boyfriend is racing in thirty minutes! C’mon! I’m like his lucky charm! If I don’t get in, you’re going to be to blame for McLaren’s championship! I need to get in!"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. You’d be surprised how many ladies show up here talking about Lando Norris and—"

"No! No, whew! No, not Lando! My boyfriend is Oscar! Piastri, second driver, you know? Vroom-vroom, consistent as fuck, pretty polite cat, Australian… You notice my accent, right? We’re dating, look!" She quickly flashed her lock screen, showing a picture of them together from her last birthday party.

"Sorry, miss. No pass, no access. Good story, though. I’d read that online."

She was sure he kept talking, but she had no intention of listening. Just a slight hope, a slight chance that Oscar still had his phone in hand.

And after a few beeps… There it was. "Sup, troublemaker? Hope you’re calling to wish me good luck because—"

"They’re keeping me out! I can’t get inside! Can you send someone to help me here? Pleeeease."

"They’re keeping you out? On my way, wait a minute."

It took no time; within minutes, Oscar was jogging over, his McLaren polo slightly wrinkled from the rushed movement. He barely acknowledged the security guard before his eyes landed on Lila, arms crossed, face set in a pout of deep frustration.

"What’s going on here?" Oscar’s voice was calm but firm, his eyes flicking between Lila and the guard.

"She doesn’t have a pass, sir," the security guard explained. "She claims to be your girlfriend, but without credentials, we can’t let her in."

Oscar’s brows furrowed slightly as he looked at Lila, who dramatically threw her hands in the air. "I am his girlfriend! This is so unfair! You guys let strangers in all the time—"

Before she could launch into another impassioned rant, Oscar simply stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Yeah, she’s with me," he said, his tone final.

The security guard hesitated, glancing between them. Something unspoken hung in the air, a flicker of disbelief, like he still wasn’t entirely convinced. Oscar didn’t bother addressing it, just pulled Lila in closer with an easy familiarity.

Lila caught on immediately, tilting her head up at him with a theatrical sigh. "See? You almost had me standing out here alone while my boyfriend was getting ready to race."

Oscar hummed in agreement. "Would’ve been tragic."

The security guard, clearly uncomfortable, cleared his throat. "Again, sorry, sir. We were just following protocol."

Oscar waved him off. "No worries. But maybe next time, try believing her. She’s a bit of a menace, but she’s harmless."

"Hey!" Lila smacked his chest lightly, though she was grinning.

With that, Oscar tugged her toward the paddock entrance, his grip on her wrist secure. Once they were far enough from the entrance, she looked up at him, grinning. "You let them think I was some random fangirl."

"Technically, you are my biggest fan," he quipped.

"Please, I barely know your stats."

Oscar scoffed. "Liar. You correct people when they misquote them."

She gasped, hand over her heart. "Betrayed by my own boyfriend."

He chuckled, squeezing her hand as they reached his driver room. "C’mon, let’s get inside before you cause more chaos."

"You love my chaos."

Oscar opened the door, gesturing for her to enter first. "Yeah, yeah. Just get in before they ban you for life."

She beamed up at him before slipping inside, and Oscar shook his head, smiling to himself. Definitely a menace. But she was his menace.

04. DEAD WORRIED.

Oscar was halfway through reviewing race data when his phone buzzed. He barely glanced at it, assuming it was Lila texting one of her usual complaints about how bored she was in class or sharing a random meme she found funny.

But it wasn’t her.

It was her mother.

His heart dropped.

Call me when you can. Lila’s in the hospital.

He shot out of his seat before his mind could catch up, already dialing. The phone rang once before her mother answered.

“Oscar,” her voice was calm—too calm. “She didn’t want me to tell you, but I thought you should know—”

“What happened?” he cut in, grabbing his keys as he headed for the door.

“She wasn’t feeling well and collapsed earlier. They’re running tests.”

His breath hitched. “She collapsed?”

“She insisted she was fine,” her mother sighed. “She didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

Of course she didn’t. She never did.

“I’m on my way.”

—

When he arrived at the hospital, he half-expected to find Lila sitting up in bed, rolling her eyes at how everyone was overreacting.

Instead, she looked… small.

Her usual spark—the one that had her sneaking into places she wasn’t supposed to be and laughing at her own jokes—was dimmed. She was propped up against a mound of pillows, an IV in her arm, her skin pale, too pale.

And yet, when she saw him standing in the doorway, she groaned.

“Oh my God,” she muttered, throwing her head back dramatically. “She told you, didn’t she?”

Oscar ignored her attempt to downplay it and rushed to her bedside, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before anything else. “Are you serious, Lila? You collapsed and didn’t think to tell me?”

She pouted. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Too late for that,” he snapped. She blinked, startled. His fists were clenched at his sides. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, before reaching for her hand. It was cold. “What’s wrong? What did they say?”

She hesitated, just a second too long.

“Oscar—”

“What did they say?” His voice cracked, just a little.

Her expression softened, and she squeezed his fingers. “They’re still figuring it out. It’s not… that bad. I just need rest.”

He shook his head. “You never get like this, Lila. Never. And you were going to just—what? Keep it from me until you magically got better?”

Her eyes flickered away. “Maybe.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He hated this. Hated seeing her like this. Hated that she had to be this sick before she’d admit something was wrong.

When the doctor finally came in to say she could go home, Oscar stood up without hesitation.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, already reaching for her.

She swung her legs off the bed, ready to stand—only to yelp when Oscar scooped her up effortlessly.

“Oscar!” she shrieked, clutching him. “Put me down!”

“Not a chance.” His grip was firm, unyielding. “You’re not walking anywhere.”

“I can walk!”

“Don’t care.”

She groaned. “You’re being ridiculous.”

He shot her a look, his eyes still clouded with lingering fear. “I almost lost my mind today, Lila. Just—let me do this, okay?”

She stared at him for a long moment before sighing, resting her head against his chest. “Fine. But only because you’re comfy.”

His lips twitched. “Lucky for you, I plan on keeping you comfy for a long time.”

And he carried her all the way out, past the amused nurses and her grinning mother, straight to the car—where he buckled her in himself.

She huffed. “You’re really doing everything for me, huh?”

He kissed her forehead, lingering there a second longer than necessary. “Yeah, I am.”

And he wouldn’t stop, not until she was better. Not ever.

05. THE FAMILY IS GROWING

Oscar knew something was off the second he stepped into the apartment. The air felt… different, like it was holding its breath, waiting for him to notice.

And he knew, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that if Lila had anything to do with it, the “normal” he was used to was long gone.

He closed the door behind him, eyes scanning the room. It wasn’t just the stillness that felt strange—there was an energy here. Something offbeat. Something… Lila.

Before he could take another step, a blur of fur zoomed across the room, knocking over a stack of books like they were mere obstacles. Lila came barreling after it, her hair a tangled mess, socks slipping on the hardwood as she slid to a stop. She lunged, all the grace of someone who hadn’t quite figured out the art of coordination—barely missing whatever had darted under the couch.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Well, this is new,” he drawled. “How long were you planning on keeping this from me?”

Lila froze, turning slowly, her expression morphing from frantic to feigned innocence in less than a second. Her smile was the kind that could melt anyone’s heart if they weren’t already in a state of disbelief. “Oh, hey! You’re home early.”

Oscar’s gaze swept over the scene—books scattered everywhere, a pillow rolling across the floor like it was trying to make a getaway, and Lila still standing there, caught with the look of someone who’d been caught red-handed. “Explain.”

She bit her lip, shifting on her feet as she tucked her hands behind her back. “Well, you see, I found her—”

“Lila.”

“—and she was all alone! She was so scared, Oscar, you should have seen her! She was shivering! And I just couldn’t leave her there.”

As if on cue, the tiny puppy peeked out from under the couch, its big brown eyes wide with guilt. Oscar’s heart softened against his will, but he had to keep his composure. This couldn’t turn into the kind of mess he couldn’t escape from. He turned back to Lila, raising an eyebrow. “So you’re telling me you’re just gonna sneak this little disaster in without telling me?”

She gasped, putting a hand over her chest in mock offense. “Sneak? I prefer ‘rescue.’”

Oscar couldn’t help but smirk. “Rescue? Really?”

Lila was already crouching down to scoop up the tiny puppy, cradling it like it was the most precious thing she’d ever held. The puppy let out a soft whimper, nestling into Lila’s chest as if it knew the game was up. “Oscar, look at her. How could I just leave her? She’s so small, so helpless. She needs someone.”

Oscar watched the way she looked at the puppy, her face lighting up in that rare, unguarded way. His chest tightened, realizing how much he loved seeing her like this—carefree, giving, and a little bit ridiculous.

“God help me,” he muttered, but there was no real heat in his voice. He wasn’t mad—not even close. He was just… helpless in the face of her charm.

Lila turned her head to look at him, eyes wide and hopeful. “I’ll put up posters, ask around. But, you know, if no one claims her… well…”

Oscar exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You already named her, didn’t you?”

Lila’s eyes widened, clearly caught. “...No?”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Lila.”

She sighed, looking down at the puppy as it licked her chin. “Okay, fine. Her name’s Peanut. But it’s not like she told me or anything.” She glanced back at Oscar with a cheeky grin. “Say hi, Peanut.”

Peanut licked Lila’s nose in response, and despite himself, Oscar chuckled softly. It was impossible to stay annoyed at this point—especially when Lila looked so damn cute trying to make it all sound so innocent.

Oscar dropped onto the couch, his body finally giving in to the absurdity of it all. “I swear, you’re the most adorable disaster I’ve ever met.”

Lila beamed, a proud smile tugging at her lips. “I know, right? But you love me anyway.”

Oscar just shook his head, but the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips was all too telling. “Yeah, I do. Can’t seem to help it.”

As she ran around, picking up the scattered books and pillows, Peanut following close behind like a tiny shadow, Oscar couldn’t help but watch her. The way she moved with that excitement, the way her eyes lit up every time she caught sight of the puppy’s tiny antics—it was all too perfect. All too her.

“You’re lucky I’m too in love with you to be mad,” he murmured to himself, half under his breath.

Lila looked up at him, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You know what? I think you’re right. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

Oscar couldn’t help himself anymore. He stood up and took a step closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his hand lingering on her cheek. “I’m not mad, Lila,” he said softly, his voice low with affection. “I just… I think you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, even when you’re doing stupid shit.”

She smiled at him, her eyes softening, and without another word, she leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that was gentle at first, like she was testing to see if he truly meant it. But Oscar wasn’t about to leave her hanging. He pulled her closer, his lips pressing against hers with more intensity, a kiss that said everything without needing words.

When they finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Lila nuzzled into his chest, content. “I love you,” she whispered, the words a sweet, simple truth.

Oscar held her tight, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I love you, too, Peanut’s mom.”

Lila laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know.” Oscar smiled, holding her even tighter as they both looked down at the little puppy—who, in that moment, seemed like just another part of their chaotic, perfect little world.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✧₊⁺ @ayrtonswnna, 2025.

#lele writes ʚɞ #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri angst #oscar piastri fluff #pookie piastri #formula 1 #formula one #formula one imagine #mclaren #landoscar #oscar piastri x reader

93 notes · View notes

seitmai · 3 days ago

Text

I have so many things to say

"I have it scheduled for December," she snapped. "Six weeks from now. It's not perfect yet, and you know how much I like perfection."

I get Cat, but I think if she knew the reason she would not mind at all 🤭

"I absolutely refuse to mention this to Bickel," Cat whispered, reminding you she was at work while you were in your living room. "You can talk to him about it yourself, but I will not. Because I value my relationship with my commanding officer." "I'll take care of Bickel. He loves it when we're ahead of schedule," you replied, biting your lip as you realized you would very much need his permission to push your plan forward. And you weren't sure you could get it.

No worries about Bickel, BG and Bickel are like this🤞🏻

His thick arm was flung across the spot where your body belonged, and you could see his fingers twitching along the bedding like he was searching for you.

🥺🥺🥺

Your eyes blinked slowly before closing, and you realized you were exhausted, too. The adrenaline that had filled you when you were in Bradley's office was drained now. Your belly was full from lunch, and Bradley was so warm. Even the baby had settled into a gentle squirming pattern like she knew you needed a break.

Glad the whole family can a catch a break and much needed nap finally 🙏🏻

"How am I supposed to finish the story when you keep distracting me? Now we'll never know if the silly goose finds his friends, and that's your fault, Nugget."

But we need to know if the silly goose finds his friends!!

Rose giggled more, and Bradley tossed the book aside to give her kisses while you watched from the end of the hallway. He was the most perfect father, and you should have never doubted him. You wanted to apologize a million more times, but when his eyes met yours, you simply said, "I love you, Roo."

Good god I'm so glad they are all back together as a happy family 🥰

"She probably has been," you cooed, easing yourself down onto the floor next to her. She promptly started crying hysterically. "She associates you with fun. I think she only associates me with food," you said, pulling your shirt over your head. "That's not true," Bradley insisted, staring openly at your breasts which were starting to leak. "You're so much more than a perfect rack."

And he would know 🤭

"Rosie and I took care of it. You needed to sleep, so we went to Costco. Did you know they give you twice the number of free samples if you take the cutest baby in the world?"

I feel like Rooster could get everything with Rose strapped to his chest 😅

As soon as his big hand circled her back, you heard her burp. It always took you twice as long. This was also the first night in weeks Bradley was home at this early, and you felt tears prickle your eyes as he walked around singing to Rose about the silly goose and his friends before vanishing into the nursery. It didn't take him long to return empty handed, and when he did, you were crying on the couch.

He is really good at this dad thing 🥹

"Are you too tired to finish the story?" he whispered. "You're going to leave me on a silly goose cliffhanger?" He swore she nodded. She probably did, she was so fucking smart. She could roll over and crawl, and soon she'd be talking and walking around.

I'm sure she did, wanted to make sure her dad would read without her 🤭

He dropped to his knees in front of you. "What's wrong?" "Nothing," you whispered, shaking your head. "I'm just happy you're home tonight."

It's the simple thing 🥹

"No. It's not. None of this is fair to you, and I'm not even talking about Indigo right now. You need me helping more at home, and I haven't been. I took this new position so I could be here more and be deployed less, but I fucked it up. I'm thinking about asking Mav to pull me."

I love takes he takes responsibility and really actions to change 🫡

You're so sexy. But that's her fucking problem at the end of the day, not yours. And I won't let her make it ours."

This just cracked me up 😅🤭

Bradley closed his eyes as you kissed his nose and his cheeks. "I just want you to be happy," he whispered. "I'll do whatever I can to make my family happy." When you said, "You already reported her, right?" he nodded. "That makes me happy. And if you come home on time more often, that will make me happy, too."

Makes me happy too 🥰

You hummed and nodded. "Let me make sure I don't piss Bickel off tomorrow before I agree to that. I don't want to request time off with my tail between my legs." Bradley raised one eyebrow. "I'm scared to know what you need to talk about that could make him upset." "The less you know, the better."

Hahaha I love BGs mischievous side

Bradley grunted. "Each Nugget gets to read my personalized thoughts on parenthood when they're older."

🥹🥹🥹

You looked taken aback as you pulled your hand away from his body and sat up. Bradley groaned, eyes raking all over you as his cock tented the bedding. "I was going to put a bra on before I fall asleep. It just felt nice to take a break for a few minutes. Is it bothering you? I'll put it on now." You were pouting, and he was sweating as you started to climb out of bed. "Jesus Christ, Sweetheart. Come back," he begged, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. "You look so fucking hot, I can't focus on anything."

He is almost drooling I just know 🤭

Your laughter filled his ears, and colors erupted behind his eyelids as you worked your hand down to his balls. "You really never stopped wanting me?" "I've wanted you nonstop since the moment I first saw you," he whined, and then your lips wrapped around his cock. Bradley's eyes flew open, watching you give him head, but after a minute of pleasure, he was reaching for you. "I won't last another minute." You smirked and licked him from balls to tip. "It makes me feel good knowing you can't stop looking at my body." He forced his gaze from your nipples to your face. "And it will make me feel good to swallow your cum before letting you suck on my tits."

🤭😮‍💨🥵

You couldn't stop smiling the next morning as Bradley kissed your cheek while you tried to put your contacts in. "Can I have a little space, Roo?" you asked sweetly. "No," he whispered, crowding in closer. "I can't stop touching you." "If you let me get ready for work, I'll blow you again tonight. He took an immediate step away, hands up in surrender. "By all means, have as much space as you need, Sweetheart. I'll get Rose up and let her crawl around with Tramp."

Hahah i cant with him 😂

After you brushed your teeth, you went to the closet. The maternity tent taunted you from the back corner, but you decided to squeeze into your regular uniform. "You'll have your day soon enough," you whispered. But your mind was already focused on work.

BG to the tent:

"I want to have lunch with you in the cafeteria today." Your smile grew as Bradley's rough fingers tangled with yours. "That sounds nice. Not sure what time I'll be able to get away though." "Text me. Whenever you're free, I'll make it work."

I juat love simp Bradley

He was kind and patient, and as soon as you got into it, you weren't nervous at all. "How do you feel about testing our code on some grounded Super Hornets ahead of schedule?" Kicking the project off early could actually be beneficial, and you knew it. It was a pretty easy sell. "It could give us a little more time to work out any kinks before the end of the year." Bickel leaned back in his seat. "I'm not sure Lieutenant Commander Coleman is finished with the preliminaries." "Oh, she is," you told him with a smile. "She's way ahead of schedule, because she's brilliant."

The way she sells it and at the same time gets some good points in for Cat is chefs kiss👏🏻

Your heart was racing. It was the moment of truth. This might not work out at all. "Do I need to choose randomly?" Bickel shook his head. "Choose whichever you want. But if you ground your own husband, that's on you. I will not bail you out of that argument."

This is going perfectly according to plan

"Who's Lieutenant Jeffries? And why did you go directly her them?" Cat asked as you casually went back to her lines of code to start double checking everything. "Oh, she's been trying to fuck Bradley for over a month." "What?" Cat screeched, jumping out of her seat. "What's going on?!"

Oh I'm so excited for Cats reaction hehe

You waved your hand dismissively. "She's a young pilot training under him, and apparently she likes getting sexy, older officers to sleep with her. Nothing's going on, much to her displeasure." "Well of course nothing's going on!" Cat spat. "Hasn't she seen the way your husband looks at you like you're a dessert buffet?"

Haha I love Cat and she is so factual about it

"It doesn't matter," she added, inching her computer further away from you. "My code is flawless. And this bitch can sit on the ground indefinitely, I don't even care. Don't mess with my friends."

I knew she would react like this 👏🏻

This would add hours and hours of work to Cat's schedule. You knew it. She knew it, too, but she was rolling her shoulders with a satisfied smirk on her face. "I love investigations. I haven't done one since the summer. And as far as I'm concerned, it's better to be safe than sorry." Her smirk melted into a solemn expression. "I take my job very seriously. You know for a fact I'll do everything by the book."

"What about all the extra hours?" you whispered. "I don't give a shit. You can help Jake can take care of Jer while I work late. I'll go over Jeffries' aircraft with a fine tooth comb." When you looked at her, you burst into tears. "Thank you." "You don't have thank me. It's my pleasure to keep the Pacific Fleet safe from all kinds of threats."

I want to thank Lieutenant Commander Coleman specifically for her service 🫡👏🏻

Aim for the Sky Part 36 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley needed a day off with his wife, but you needed it more. Taking care of his family would come first from now on, and he had no problem proving that to you. As your plan begins to take shape, one of your allies doubles down.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, pregnancy, oral smut, lactation kink

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Cat gave you an earful over the phone, and you let her. As soon as you told her you wanted to move up the unveiling of the project she'd been leading for months, she panicked.

"I have it scheduled for December," she snapped. "Six weeks from now. It's not perfect yet, and you know how much I like perfection."

When you said, "It doesn't need to be perfect, it just needs to work," you heard a muffled scream.

"I'm going to break out in hives. I need to lie down," she hissed. "You're talking about something that affects the entire F/A-18 fleet."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not talking about the whole Super Hornet fleet yet. I'm talking about testing on a handful of aircrafts. Or maybe just one to start..."

When you went silent, Indigo's eyes danced through your mind along with her pompous voice and irritating strut.

"Do you have any idea how long I'll have to stay at work? I'll be here overnight finishing this. Overnight. Do you hear me?" Cat asked.

"I'll owe you big time," you replied. "I'll babysit Jer a hundred times. A thousand times."

"I'll take care of Bickel. He loves it when we're ahead of schedule," you replied, biting your lip as you realized you would very much need his permission to push your plan forward. And you weren't sure you could get it.

"Why do you want this so much? And are you coming back to work today? What's going on?"

You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Listen, I'll be there tomorrow, okay? And I'll fill you in then. Just...give me until tomorrow. Please, keep working on your code."

Cat groaned so loudly, you had to pull your phone away from your ear. "Fine." Then the call ended, and you ran for your bedroom with your hand holding your belly.

Bradley was already sound asleep, the dark circle under his eye prominent even as his face was half buried in his pillow. His thick arm was flung across the spot where your body belonged, and you could see his fingers twitching along the bedding like he was searching for you.

Your heart clenched, and you slipped quietly under the covers next to him. "There you are," he grunted, opening one eye as he pulled you closer. "Did you talk to Cat?"

"Yes," you whispered, letting him pull you close so his chest was pressed snug against your back. His warm hand settled on your belly, and his even breathing filled your ear.

"Baby Girl, I can't stay awake," he murmured, kissing the back of your neck. "I need a little nap, then I'll get up with Rose when she cries," he promised.

"I can get up. I'm not that sleepy," you told him, melting in his arms as his fingers circled your belly button.

"I love you," he rasped, kissing your ear before his soft snores filled the space.

Sleep took over. You never heard a sound until you jolted awake alone in the dark bedroom with your breasts aching. You needed to feed Rose for some relief, because it had been hours since she'd eaten, so you slipped out of bed.

Bradley had her tucked in his arm, reading a story about a goose on the couch while Rose poked his mustache. Every other word was punctuated with his laughter, and Rose erupted into giggles.

"How am I supposed to finish the story when you keep distracting me? Now we'll never know if the silly goose finds his friends, and that's your fault, Nugget."

He was on his feet, Rose held against his chest, and then he was smothering you in kisses, too. You couldn't stop laughing as his rough mustache scratched your cheeks while he held you in place with one big hand on your butt.

When he finally stopped, he took you by the hand and said, "Wait until you see this. You're not going to believe it."

"What?" you asked, but he was already setting Rose down on her play mat. As soon as she was on her belly, she popped up to her knees, crawled two feet, and collapsed back onto her belly. "She's crawling!"

"She's crawling!" Bradley shouted. "I took a video of the first time, so you didn't miss it. This was only the second time, I swear. Unless she's been crawling around in her crib."

"That's not true," Bradley insisted, staring openly at your breasts which were starting to leak. "You're so much more than a perfect rack."

With an eye roll you said, "I guess I should start thinking about what to make for our dinner while she eats."

Rose latched on while Bradley kissed the top of your head. "I already took care of it."

"You did?"

"Yeah, I reprised one of your mom's crockpot meals. Chicken soup."

You blinked up at him as he stood. "How? We don't have any groceries. I haven't felt like going shopping."

"Rosie and I took care of it. You needed to sleep, so we went to Costco. Did you know they give you twice the number of free samples if you take the cutest baby in the world?"

"Did you wear her in her carrier on your chest?" you asked as he went into the kitchen.

"Yep."

"That'll do it. Makes you look irresistible." Bradley blushed as he took the lid off the soup, and then the smell of dinner hit your nose. "Oh my god, I'm starving."

He started shifting things around on the counter. "I'll bring you a bowl, and it should be cool enough to eat by the time Rose is done."

You watched him work as your daughter got groggy in your arms. Bradley carried two bowls into the living room along with crackers and lemonade. He had dinner set up for both of you by the time Rose's eyes started to close, and that's when you realized just how late it was.

"I think she's ready for bed," you whispered, handing her to Bradley so you could stand.

"Go eat. I'll burp her and change her diaper," he promised, nodding toward the food.

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

Bradley missed this so much. He'd only been home for a handful of nights to get Rose ready for bed recently. Right now he was enjoying her fuzzy hair against his lips as he gently set her down on her changing table. He grabbed a fresh diaper and clean pajamas covered in airplanes while she yawned.

"Are you too tired to finish the story?" he whispered. "You're going to leave me on a silly goose cliffhanger?"

He swore she nodded. She probably did, she was so fucking smart. She could roll over and crawl, and soon she'd be talking and walking around.

"Okay," he murmured. "We can finish the book tomorrow."

He flicked on the lullaby machine even though she was already falling asleep in her crib and went in search of his wife and his dinner. But he found you sitting on the couch with tears on your cheeks.

He dropped to his knees in front of you. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you whispered, shaking your head. "I'm just happy you're home tonight."

Bradley's face fell as you wiped at your tears, guilt filling his body. "I'm so sorry I fucked up so much," he replied, reaching for your hands. "I just wanted to be on top of everything at work, but I should have been here with you."

"It's okay," you sobbed.

"No," you gasped, wiggling off the couch and onto his lap. "You can't, Bradley. You're such a good teacher."

He buried his face in your neck and inhaled as he wrapped his arms around you. "I'm a joke. Nobody's taking me seriously. I have a student who convinced herself she could take advantage of me."

You jerked his chin up so he was looking at you. "That's not even true. She admitted she pulled the same shit in the past, and of course she wanted you, too. You're so sexy. But that's her fucking problem at the end of the day, not yours. And I won't let her make it ours."

Bradley closed his eyes as you kissed his nose and his cheeks. "I just want you to be happy," he whispered. "I'll do whatever I can to make my family happy."

When you said, "You already reported her, right?" he nodded. "That makes me happy. And if you come home on time more often, that will make me happy, too."

"What about a vacation?" he asked softly, letting his hand rest on your belly. "Just the four of us? We could go away for our anniversary. Today was so nice, I think we need some more time off together."

You hummed and nodded. "Let me make sure I don't piss Bickel off tomorrow before I agree to that. I don't want to request time off with my tail between my legs."

Bradley raised one eyebrow. "I'm scared to know what you need to talk about that could make him upset."

"The less you know, the better."

Your words didn't calm his nerves, but your kisses did. So did the soup which was the perfect temperature to eat. You even watched an episode of Real Housewives of New Jersey with him before he started cleaning up.

"I can do that," you told him. "I slept all afternoon."

He turned you toward the bedroom and swatted at your butt. "You and Nugget number two were tired. Go relax in bed and start looking at the Halloween costumes I saved in my Amazon cart for Rose."

Bradley handed you his phone and sent you on your way. He let Tramp outside and loaded the dishwasher before wiping down the counter and packing up the rest of the dinner. When he finally walked into the bedroom, you were topless and giggling.

"We have to get her this costume!" you insisted, holding up his phone, showing him the one that was actually his top choice as well.

"That was my favorite," he grunted, watching your tits bounce as you sat up.

"It's too perfect. I'll order it right now."

Bradley was distracted as he walked around the room, trying to get ready for bed. He brushed his teeth and got undressed, eyes barely able to look anywhere but at your body. This morning, he woke up in the Bronco on the driveway, because you thought there was a chance he was messing around behind your back. He was just happy to put that behind him. He wasn't about to press his luck as he climbed in bed.

"Here you go," you whispered, handing his phone back. He took it and plugged it in to charge overnight, but your breasts brushed his arm. They were heavy and perfect, your nipples big and pert from all the hormones and breast milk. And now he was fully erect as he tried to lay on his back, reaching to turn the lamp off.

"Are you ready for bed? Or do you feel like staying up a little longer?"

Bradley's gaze snapped to your face as his fingers hovered next to the lamp. "I could stay up a little longer," he rasped, keeping his eyes away from your tits which were pressed together as you leaned closer to him. "If you want."

Bradley had barely touched you in weeks which was evidenced by his throbbing cock. You'd seemed tired and distant, all thanks to Indigo, but he didn't put the pieces together at the time. He thought you were worn out from your pregnancy. Right now, he was horny as hell but afraid for you to know where his mind was as he tried to discreetly adjust himself.

He left the lamp on as you curled up snug against his side. "I saw that you started another notebook for the baby," you said, your fingers skimming along your belly, showing off your perfect body.

Bradley grunted. "Each Nugget gets to read my personalized thoughts on parenthood when they're older."

Your lips found his shoulder, and he shivered. "You're a good dad. I'm sorry I doubted you." Bradley closed his eyes as your fingers traced his chest hair down to his abs. It felt like heaven. He wasn't going to make it.

"Why are you topless?" he gasped, tone accusatory. "You've been sleeping in a sports bra with those pad things in them."

"My nursing pads?" you asked, clearly confused. "So I don't leak at night?"

"Yeah. Those things. Why are your tits all over the place right now?"

You were pouting, and he was sweating as you started to climb out of bed. "Jesus Christ, Sweetheart. Come back," he begged, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. "You look so fucking hot, I can't focus on anything."

"Oh." Your pout turned into softly parted lips that he needed to kiss. So he did. He sat up, letting the bedding fall to his hips as he smashed his lips to yours. Fuck, you felt too good. And then you blindly nudged his cock with your hand. "Oh!"

You pulled away, wide eyed and staring down. "Yeah," he grunted. "But in my defense, you had your tits all over the place. You still do." Then you wrapped your hand around his erection, and Bradley collapsed against his pillow. "We don't have to mess around tonight," he gasped. "It wasn't my intention at all. I just wanted to spend time together."

Your laughter filled his ears, and colors erupted behind his eyelids as you worked your hand down to his balls. "You really never stopped wanting me?"

"I've wanted you nonstop since the moment I first saw you," he whined, and then your lips wrapped around his cock. Bradley's eyes flew open, watching you give him head, but after a minute of pleasure, he was reaching for you. "I won't last another minute."

You pulled him free with a pop. "So?"

Bradley panted. "So, I want to make you feel good, too."

You smirked and licked him from balls to tip. "It makes me feel good knowing you can't stop looking at my body." He forced his gaze from your nipples to your face. "And it will make me feel good to swallow your cum before letting you suck on my tits."

He was going to pass out, he was sure of it. "Okay," he rasped, in no position to argue with you while you were gagging on his cock.

He had been correct. After another minute, he was grabbing at the bedding, hanging on for dear life. Your tits were bouncing against his inner thighs, and your belly looked gorgeous. Your face was perfect as you looked up at him with your mouth full. This wasn't what he expected, but he wasn't mad about it. He came, barking out your name as you swallowed every drop, licking him clean.

When you eased yourself onto your back, coaxing him closer to your taut nipples, he moaned. He was in heaven with your fingers in his hair, and when he tasted you, he knew he'd never get enough.

He kept you up for another hour, making sure you felt as good as he did.

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

You couldn't stop smiling the next morning as Bradley kissed your cheek while you tried to put your contacts in. "Can I have a little space, Roo?" you asked sweetly.

"No," he whispered, crowding in closer. "I can't stop touching you."

He'd done plenty of that last night. You came so hard on his mouth and fingers, you thought you were going to wake Rose up. Turns out Bradley had been missing you while you were trying to block him out to protect yourself. But Indigo was toast. You'd see to that. She had Bradley convinced he was terrible at his job, and that just wouldn't do. Neither would the fact that nobody got to have your husband except you.

"If you let me get ready for work, I'll blow you again tonight."

He took an immediate step away, hands up in surrender. "By all means, have as much space as you need, Sweetheart. I'll get Rose up and let her crawl around with Tramp."

If Cat stayed late enough to finish the code, then just maybe you could pull this off. Indigo could get her punishment through the Navy, but you wanted to give her a little something special yourself. After all, she knew who you were, but she didn't know you overheard her in Bradley's office.

You were smiling as you strutted through the living room and out the front door. Rose was buckled in and ready to go, and Bradley was waiting in the driver's seat of the red Bronco with his aviators on.

"You look hot," he murmured, reaching to buckle your seatbelt for you after you climbed in. His lips brushed yours making you very aware you'd be late for work if the three of you didn't leave now.

"I told you I'd blow you tonight, not now."

Bradley laughed and started the engine. "That's not what I'm after, and you know it."

After he backed out of the driveway, he reached for your hand. "What are you after?"

"I want to have lunch with you in the cafeteria today."

Your smile grew as Bradley's rough fingers tangled with yours. "That sounds nice. Not sure what time I'll be able to get away though."

"Text me. Whenever you're free, I'll make it work."

"Okay," you whispered, turning to check on Rose. "And we'll leave on time to go home?"

"We'll leave on time to go home," Bradley confirmed.

You almost made another comment about the blowjob, but you knew it wasn't about that. He promised to do better, and you were going to as well. Starting with showing Indigo who's boss on your husband's behalf.

An hour later, your knuckles connected with Bickel's office door. "Come in!"

This was not the time for nerves. You needed to sound confident as hell. "Captain Bickel, Sir, can we talk about one of our projects for a minute?"

"Sure, Lieutenant Commander," he replied, shuffling some things on his desk. "Uh, have a seat."

Bickel leaned back in his seat. "I'm not sure Lieutenant Commander Coleman is finished with the preliminaries."

"Oh, she is," you told him with a smile. "She's way ahead of schedule, because she's brilliant."

He laughed and nodded. "We really do have a great team. Hmmm." His brow furrowed, and he looked through his calendar. "I think this could actually work out well. Starting updates ahead of schedule means we could have the fleet back in the air ahead of schedule. Go ahead and move forward with an aircraft or two."

Your heart was racing. It was the moment of truth. This might not work out at all. "Do I need to choose randomly?"

Bickel shook his head. "Choose whichever you want. But if you ground your own husband, that's on you. I will not bail you out of that argument."

Satisfaction filled your insides as Bickel laughed at his own joke, and a giddy grin spread across your face. "I know just where to start, Sir," you promised, saluting him before running back to the lab with both hands on your belly.

Cat glared at you when you sat on the stool next to her. "I am so tired. Literally and figuratively," she mumbled. "Don't come in here and try to talk to me with your peppy BS. I don't want to hear it."

You laughed merrily and slid her computer away from her.

"Hey!" she complained, reaching for it, but you shook your head.

"We can start testing whenever we want," you said, opening the credentials list of each aviator currently at Top Gun associated with an F/A-18. "And we can choose which aircraft to run the program on first."

You scrolled past BRADSHAW, BRADLEY and FITCH, REUBEN and GARCIA, MICKEY as you made your way through the alphabet. When you got to JEFFRIES, BROOKE, you stopped and smiled. "Bingo."

"Who's Lieutenant Jeffries? And why did you go directly her them?" Cat asked as you casually went back to her lines of code to start double checking everything.

"Oh, she's been trying to fuck Bradley for over a month."

"What?" Cat screeched, jumping out of her seat. "What's going on?!"

You waved your hand dismissively. "She's a young pilot training under him, and apparently she likes getting sexy, older officers to sleep with her. Nothing's going on, much to her displeasure."

"Well of course nothing's going on!" Cat spat. "Hasn't she seen the way your husband looks at you like you're a dessert buffet?" You snorted, but she ripped her computer from your hands. "Give me this," she muttered, pounding away on the keys. A few seconds later, you realized what she was doing, but it was too late.

"Cat, don't!" you gasped. "You put 'check for potential incompetence and/or pilot error' in the notes!"

"So what?" she snarled. "I always do that when I ground an aircraft. It adds a layer of safety."

"I didn't even finish checking your new code to verify we can run the program!"

"It doesn't matter," she added, inching her computer further away from you. "My code is flawless. And this bitch can sit on the ground indefinitely, I don't even care. Don't mess with my friends."

You watched as Cat's index finger slammed into the return key.

"Oh my god," you groaned. "We're logged in under your credentials which means you're the one who will have to do a thorough investigation!"

"What about all the extra hours?" you whispered.

"I don't give a shit. You can help Jake can take care of Jer while I work late. I'll go over Jeffries' aircraft with a fine tooth comb."

When you looked at her, you burst into tears. "Thank you."

"You don't have thank me. It's my pleasure to keep the Pacific Fleet safe from all kinds of threats."

Eventually you texted Bradley when you were done checking Cat's perfect work, letting him know you were ready for lunch. The cafeteria was packed, but you found him standing alone at the end of the line.

"There you are," he murmured, collecting you in his arms and kissing you in front of everyone. "I'm so hungry, I thought I was going to have to start without you." He ushered you into line with a tray and began to pile it with food. "I got an email a few minutes ago letting me know that Indigo will be grounded until further notice starting tomorrow. You know anything about that?"

"I already told you, the less you know, the better. Don't forget to grab the hot sauce."

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

I'm afraid Indigo doesn't stand a chance if Cat teams up with BG... I just don't want her anywhere near Bradley. Gonna start wrapping up this series in a few more chapters!

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@furiousladyking

@godsfavoritebabe

@bethabear12

@halo-mystic

@sherlockstrangewolf

@theamuz

@khaylin27

@glenpowellluver

428 notes · View notes

queenbee298 · 2 days ago

Note

hi I saw your finally free story and I have an idea

Imagine the reader has a more twee style and after a shower the reader is kinda pretty like thick poofy wavy or curly healthy hair and nice skin stuff that wasn't noticeable because of all the dirt and blood from the factory but is after a shower and possibly has a tattoo like a ladybug with spots replaced by stars and framed by a stamp(based off a tattoo I want but you don't have to it can be a tattoo you see fit) things to really make the reader seem like an angel towards the toys

I like the way you think 😉 Thank you for requesting this. Request #1

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

After you bathe the toys, you took a nice hot shower. You could finally get the smell of blood and dirt stains off you and relax. You took the shampoo and conditioner and washed your hair.

You have thick curly hair and after you got out the shower, you blow dry it. Your hair was all “poofy” now. You took a hair tie and tied your hair up into a puffball.

You slipped into a t-shirt and some shorts and entered your bedroom with the toys. All eyes with on you as you exit the bedroom. You sat down on your bed with the others.

Yarnaby layed on your lap, purring as you patted his mane.

Poppy: “Wow, Angel. I never knew you had so much hair.”

Kissy flopped her hand on your head as a way to tell you she likes your hair. The mini critters jumped on you and your head.

Craftycorn: “It’s so soft like cotton candy.”

Poppy: “Can you do my hair like yours, Angel?”

Y/N: “Of course, sweetness.”

Doey noticed your tattoo on the back of your shoulder. It was a tattoo of a ladybug with stars instead of spots.

Doey: “How do you have a bug on your back?”

Y/N: “It’s a tattoo. I got it for my birthday a few years ago. It’s kind of like the hands on your belly.”

Doey: “That’s so cool! I wish I had a tattoo like that!”

You giggled at his excitement. This time you spend with your the toys felt so comfortable and relaxing. You can really call them family.

🐞🐞🐞🐞🐞🐞🐞🐞🐞🐞🐞🐞🐞🐞🐞🐞Sorry if the story was short, but thank you for requesting this idea. Big shout out to @mushroomfrog05

#poppy playtime #ppt 4 #poppy playtime doey #poppy playtime kissy missy #poppy playtime chapter 4 #poppy playtime x reader #smiling critters #cute #ladybug #tattoos #poppy playtime safe haven

101 notes · View notes

biteyoubiteme · 2 days ago

Text

raspberry stains teaser

vampire!sunghoon x fem!reader

❦︎ synopsis: left alone on the streets of your small village you are offered the opportunity to trade your life for only a small price to pay. You are given to vampire prince sunghoon who has not had a taste for blood for almost a lifetime. Not because he does not feel hunger but because he has not found the one that temps him. ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ warnings: vampires, blood, blood drinking, angst, dark themes, reader held against her will, biting, smut, more to be added/subject to change/full warnings to be posted with fic

estimated word count: ~15k I could be lying I don't know how to estimate word counts so we will actually see how far off I am or just right when it’s posted lol

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ release date: feb 18th

an: hiiii this is my first enha fic and I don't think I will be taking requests for them at this time this is just me dipping my toes in so :p this is just a teaser and I wanted to know if you guys would want to be tagged for this seeing as I don't usually post for them so just let me know :)) [m.list]

⸝⸝⸝

To be a gift was to be a blessing. Young girls and boys picked up off the streets of dying villages, rampant with sickness and filth. The heavily coated royal servants cased the roads, their scent fragrant and foreign. Even if they were not turned they still had that enticing pull to them, lined with the beckoning aura of the vampires just by association. Or maybe it was because no one in your village had seen such decadence, that slow prowl, ruby red gems dripping from chains slung around their bodies showing you who's kingdom they belonged to.

You had only heard stories of the vampires sending to find feeders outside of their kingdoms. Not stolen, kidnapped, or captured. Persuaded by the idea of a full belly that none born to this kind of poverty had ever experienced since falling away from their mothers. It's why when the servant leaned down next to your half-stiff body, trembling from the cold wind, you let him. Let him breathe in the scent of you, eyes closing as you send a prayer for some kind of savior from this cold hell you had been born into. Fingers numb as you held them, knowing that as tight as you had gripped it should have hurt, knees pulled to your chest, the half moth eaten blanket wrapped around you the only relic you had from once living between four walls and not against one.

“Have you ever been fed from before?” It was that single question that made you blink back to reality, looking at the pale face inspecting you. He was a vampire, you could tell from the faint ring of red around his iris’ but it didn't scare you as you had been told it should have. Even if you would be taken away, anywhere would be better than the cobble street digging into you, staining your clothes. It wasn't a bed as you had tried to convince yourself every night as you faded to sleep. If they locked you in a cellar you're sure even if it's cold it would at least keep you dry from the snow, blocked from the wind.

“Never,” the word sealed your fate like a fresh wax stamp.

taglist 🏷: want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! I do not write for enha this is my first time and I don't know how much ill be writing for them in the future this is for the taglist for this fic only!

#sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader

82 notes · View notes

corpocyborg · 2 days ago

Text

You know, I think one of my favorite things about a super evil play through is actually how hard it is to net approval with even the most potentially evil-leaning companions.

Astarion talks a big game about how much he likes violence and evil, and he does often give you approval for those types of actions, but you get this distinct impression from interactions with him that he's just sort of put on a permanent mask. I saw this post going around that Astarion dislikes it when you are very benevolent and heroic because he's thinking "How can there be so much goodness in the world but none of it was ever for me? It's not fair." And I think that's true. And I think when you actually take him down the road he claims he wants to go down, he takes on this mentality of "Ah, yes. Of course. I knew it. The world is without love." And he tries to pretend that it doesn't bother him but there are moments you can see it breaking through that it does. That's why I'm at the end of Act 1 of nonstop evil and I can't get him past medium approval.

On the other hand, I can't even get Shadowheart past neutral approval. She goes back and forth on giving me approval and disapproval, and, in my experience, she does the same exact thing in a good play through. I always find it hardest to predict what Shadowheart will approve of or disapprove of because she's so inconsistent. I think this is because her whole story is about the fact that she doesn't know who she is. I mean, she literally can't remember much about her life, to begin with. But also, she's in a state of indecision, not only does she not remember who she is, but she hasn't decided yet who she wants to be. Or more precisely she feels like who she wants to be is not a real option. She is definitely the companion (of the ones I actually had) who reacted most poorly to raiding the Grove. She got drunk and she went off about how it's not a real victory if you're killing people who can't even defend themselves. But then the next day she acted totally different. She was sober, and she took on this mentality of "Goblins killed some people. They didn't kill us. Time to move on." So she reasserted this control over herself that she has on most of the time, that had mostly only slipped because she was so upset and because she was drunk.

Lae'zel has been the easiest for me to get approval with. She got up to high approval very quickly, and she's currently at very high approval and stays there consistently. I think this is because she's way more honest than either Astarion or Shadowheart. She really is what she says she is. She's ruthless. And I don't actually mean that she inherently has to be evil. It is very possible to take her down a good path and convince her to embrace ideals of freedom. But I do think that her persona is far more honest than either Astarion or Shadowheart's is. And I think this makes sense because she was raised in a whole society of believers in "might makes right" who have believed in that for many generations and she was given chances to excel in that society rather than completely victimized. This is very different from Astarion because he was always a victim and never had an opportunity to actually strive for power. It is likely more similar to what Shadowheart would have experienced, though I think her memory loss complicates this, but it also just seems like Shadowheart doesn't take to ruthlessness as naturally. They both had to adopt that mentality because it was the only way they could survive, but I think Lae'zel is just better at it because she's just a way more straight-forward person. I think it's also why if she does decide to go against Vlaakith, it's an instant 180-degree change in her allegiance. She doesn't have to waver like Shadowheart does in regards to Shar, she just goes "This is what I believe now." and just switches.

Anyway, yeah... you learn so much about them on an evil play through... can't wait to torture them some more.

#bg3 #astarion #shadowheart #lae'zel #i think there's good odds i'm not going to have a full party going into act 3 tbh #because gale & karlach & halsin are already dead and wyll has already permanently left the party #i'll recruit minthara easily in act 2 #but shadowheart will leave permanently in act 2 considering what i plan to do #and i think lae'zel is going to be the one bhaal wants me to kill #because i think if you're not in a romance then it is just the companion who approves of you most #but i kinda like it because it makes so much sense that durge ends up alone if they embrace the urge too much #you either cough up gold for some meaningless canon fodder minions #or more fittingly you make sure you and your slayer form are strong enough to do this yourself #you walk into that ceremony by yourself and you take gortash's deal by yourself and you kill your sister by yourself #and then when gortash dies too you claim that netherbrain by yourself #why would you expect any different?#you always knew you would be the last

93 notes · View notes

sapphiresaphics · 1 day ago

Text

You’re right. It is polite to do that. But it’s also… I dunno… kinda boring? And it often doesn’t push the story forward.

Let’s look at it this way: We know that initially they planned on several additional seasons and ultimately were only given 2. We don’t know when that cut back was dictated to them from up on high, but it’s very easy to assume it happened sometime between season 1 and 2’s production. Very likely after most of season 1’s setup had already been finished and animated.

And, given how little time they had available to them for season 2, they opted instead to focus on ways to communicate this stuff non-verbally most of the time and to trust that we, as smart intelligent viewers, can piece together stuff ourselves.

They have a grand total of 18 episodes in total for this entire show. There are other shows that have double that number for just one season. Time is of the essence and every frame costs hundreds of dollars. So if it’s not really relevant it goes on the cutting room floor. Arcane is nothing if not EFFICIENT with its storytelling. And that’s a stylistic choice the creators have made.

And let’s not forget this doesn’t just exist around Caitlyn. Vi never apologizes for punching Powder as a kid. She apologizes for leaving and calling her a Jinx, but never for punching her. Vi also punches Isha. It’s an accident, but she still never apologizes for that either. Ekko never apologizes for kidnapping Vi and Caitlyn. Jinx never apologizes for killing Ekko’s friends. Jayce never apologizes for killing a child. Ambessa never apologizes for slapping Mel. Heimerdinger never apologizes for letting the undercity’s problems fester for so long. Mel never really apologizes for using Jayce and Viktor as investments. The list goes on. So WHY is it ONLY on Caitlyn in these critiques about the show?

A couple more little quibbles and distinctions:

Vi was never forced to become an enforcer. When Caitlyn asks her to become an enforcer, Vi turns her down. It’s not until after Caitlyn almost dies during the memorial attack does Vi reconsider the offer. And she doesn’t do it because she was pressured into it, she does it because she wants to keep Caitlyn safe. The only thing Vi trusts are her fists. If she’s there, she can take care of Jinx while also protecting the woman she loves. Even if it means putting on the Enforcer uniform.

Also, Vi doesn’t care about Zaun all that much. She never fought for the city. In fact, she has been actively hostile towards Zaun since Season 1. Let’s not forget that she went in performing vigilante Justice and got a kid killed in the process. Her goal has always been to protect her family, and that means people like Jinx and Caitlyn.

As for the “I’m sorry I was wrong?” Caitlyn DOES that. It’s just non-verbally. See, when Caitlyn has Jinx locked up she doesn’t know what to do with her. She has seen first hand that Jinx can be trusted. She is not the maniacal raving lunatic that killed her mother anymore. She has changed. She tries to talk to Jinx, but that doesn’t help her make a decision.

So she lets Vi choose. She intentionally leaves the prison empty of guards and allows Vi to steal the keys to free her sister. She has no guarantee that she will ever see Vi again, and she suspects that Vi and Jinx will just run away together. That’s why when she goes down there and finds Vi locked in the cell instead of Jinx, she knows what happened. And when Vi is at her lowest, thinking she betrayed Caitlyn by going behind her back to free Jinx against her wishes, Caitlyn tells her “no, I let you do this. Because I give up on hating your sister. You are more important to me than my hatred of Jinx and you should be free to make your own decisions about who you get to love.”

That’s WHY Vi jumps on Caitlyn in the prison cell. Caitlyn just told her that she was giving up stoking the flames of the fire that tore them apart. This is akin to a loved one giving up alcohol or smoking or going to therapy or basically tossing aside their abusive habits because their love for their partner is more important to them than their vices. That was like the BIGGEST apology Caitlyn could ever give Vi. No amount of “I’m sorry” does THAT justice.

I get it, you wanted her to SAY the words. But the show doesn’t do that. The show is a VISUAL show and ACTIONS speak louder than words ever could. So Arcane does Caitlyn’s apology through her actions. To assume the worst in Caitlyn after such a grand gesture is kinda silly IMO.

No disrespect, I just find a lot of this stuff to be kinda nitpicky. The show is a visual show. It tells its narrative visually. It always has. It always will. Demanding Caitlyn say “sorry” when no one else ever does and ignoring that she performs one of the greatest acts of love you could give a partner is frustrating to say the least.

“Caitlyn never apologizes for her actions so how do we know she’s remorseful of them?”

Well you see… when Caitlyn gets asked if she likes men or women by Vi, we never get an answer from Caitlyn there either. But then later in the episode we SEE her behaving differently and flirting with a woman. So that answers our question for us. We don’t need to hear her say “I’m a lesbian” or “I like girls” because the show SHOWS us that she likes girls.

Often times if you have a concern like this, it IS addressed in the show. Just not in blatantly obvious and vocal ways. You actually need to pay attention.

So like… yea, we don’t really hear Caitlyn say outright “I feel remorse for my actions” but there’s like a MOUNTAIN of evidence (Kirammountains worth haha) that show she feels this way. From her confrontational arguments with Ambessa, to her pointing a gun at singe, to her sneaking around tracking singe, to her betraying Ambessa, to her shouting “I know!” when confronted by Vi, to her saying to Jinx “hating you I’ve hated myself,” to her ultimately letting Vi free her sister thus proving to Vi that she’s letting her hatred for Jinx go, to her sad “are you still in this fight, Violet?” at the end of the show… using the context clues the characters provide through facial acting and body language we can TELL that she’s remorseful.

Imagine that!

#arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane spoilers #caitlyn kiramman #violyn #caitvi

426 notes · View notes

overadores · 17 hours ago

Text

･ ⟢ ⋮ love last ゛༝. ✦ megan skiendiel

You know me well

pairing.ᐟ megan skiendiel x reader

about.ᐟ a sorrowful story of love, sacrifice, and time’s relentless passage, this tale follows two childhood friends whose unbreakable bond grows into something deeper, but as dreams take flight and distance pulls them apart, unspoken words linger—until one fateful night changes everything.

genre.ᐟ heavy angst. hurt, no comfort.

cw.ᐟ major character death, car accident, language.

wc.ᐟ 1229 words

a/n.ᐟ i promise you this is the last car accident story i have, a honorable mention for this lovely song which i highly recommend to listen if yall want to hurt like i did while i was writing this.

It's almost like you love me, I can tell

Have you ever sacrificed everything—your life, your entire world—just to see someone smile again?

Just to remind them that the world isn’t as dark, as empty, as it once seemed?

You did.

It was the summer of ’03.

You were just a kid back then, thrown into the same cabin at summer camp as a stranger, forced into the same space. Megan was a whirlwind of energy, the kind of girl who couldn’t sit still for a second, who danced instead of walked, who laughed at everything and anything at first, she drove you crazy. She was loud, she was hyper, she didn’t know how to read well, she struggled with spelling—but none of that seemed to stop her.

And yet, despite all that, she could read you like an open book.

She tried her hardest to write you letters, struggling to spell out your name, rewriting words over and over just to get them right. She toned down her energy whenever you were too exhausted to deal with it. She listened when you were upset, curled up beside you when homesickness hit, stayed by your side whenever the other kids played their games.

Somewhere along the way, Megan stopped being just an annoying bunkmate.

She became your second home.

You wish you had told her how much that meant to you.

But summer doesn’t last forever. When it ended, you went your separate ways—her on one side of the country, you on the other. The first few weeks were the hardest. You missed her more than you expected, missed her laughter, her warmth. But distance wasn’t enough to break you. You called, you messaged, you sent letters. It wasn’t the same, but it was enough.

You kept this going for years, even into high school.

That’s when you started to realize something was different.

At first, you told yourself it was just a silly crush, something fleeting. You thought maybe it would fade.

You were wrong.

The moment you got your own phone, you were talking constantly. Calls, FaceTimes, texts—it never stopped. Megan always found a way to call, even when she was busy. And when you finally learned to drive, the first thing you did was go to her.

You drove miles just to see her smile.

You sacrificed sleep, time, money—anything, just to be there for her the way she had always been there for you.

And as you grew older, as you stood on the edge of adulthood, you realized something that terrified you.

You loved her.

Not in the way kids love their childhood best friends. Not in the way people expect you to love a friend you’ve known forever.

You were in love with her.

But you never told her.

Not even the night you made your pinky promise.

That night, you took her to your favorite place in the world, the first person you had ever brought there. Megan had never looked happier. Then she took you to hers. You sat together, watching the sun set, golden light painting her face like a dream.

“You know, I’m so lucky to have you,” she had said, turning to you with that soft, radiant smile.

You wanted to tell her then.

You wanted to say, Megan, I love you.

But all you could say was, “And I’m lucky to have you. I hope we spend more days like this, together, until we die.”

She laughed, holding out her pinky. “Then let’s pinky promise on it.”

You hooked your pinky around hers, sealing a promise you didn’t know you would break.

Then came the day Megan called you, her voice thick with tears.

She didn’t get into her dream university.

You didn’t even think. You just grabbed your keys, got into your car, and drove straight to her house.

When she opened the door, her face was streaked with tears, her shoulders shaking.

“Megan, darling, I’m so sorry,” you whispered, pulling her into your arms. She buried her face into your shoulder, crying so hard you could feel your heart breaking.

“But I really wanted to go there,” she sobbed.

“I know.” You held her tighter. “I know, love. But it’s their loss. You’re an incredible dancer, and if they can’t see that, they don’t deserve you.”

She sniffled, letting out a small, shaky laugh. “You always say the right things.”

“I just know you.”

To cheer her up, you took her to her favorite place, bought her ice cream, snacks—anything to see her smile again.

A week later, she called, screaming into the phone.

She got accepted into Dream Academy.

You were beyond proud of her.

But then came the worst part.

She told you that you had to cut contact.

The academy had strict rules—no outside communication, no distractions. You understood. So, you let her go.

You waited.

You watched her from a distance, following every update on her journey. When the finals came, you knew—you knew—she would win.

Then, two days after the announcement, your phone rang.

It was her.

“We can finally celebrate,” she said, her voice full of excitement. “Come over?”

You laughed, already grabbing your keys. “I’m on my way. Get ready.”

She giggled. “Hurry up, slowpoke.”

That was the last thing she ever said to you.

The roads were nearly empty that night.

You were driving, one hand on the wheel, the other checking your phone at a red light. Megan had sent a text.

Meg: hurry uppp, im waitinggg >:(

You smiled, typing back a quick reply.

You: five minutes, i promise.

You never made it.

The light turned green. You started driving again.

And then—

A flash of headlights.

A deafening crash.

Everything slowed down.

You felt the impact before you even realized what was happening.

Pain.

So much pain.

Your thoughts blurred, fading in and out, but you still saw flashes of your life.

Your parents.

Your childhood.

And then Megan.

The girl who was waiting for you.

She was probably texting you again, telling you to hurry up. Probably fixing her hair, too excited to sit still.

You wanted to tell her you were coming.

You wanted to tell her you were sorry.

You wanted to tell her—

I love you.

But you never got the chance.

They say when someone dies unexpectedly, there’s a moment—just a moment—when their soul lingers.

Long enough to see the aftermath.

Long enough to see who mourns them.

You don’t know if that’s true.

But if it is, then you know exactly what you would’ve seen.

Megan.

Sitting in her room, waiting.

Checking her phone every few minutes, frowning when you didn’t respond.

Calling you, only for it to go straight to voicemail.

Then, the next day, the call she never expected.

A voice on the other end, telling her the news.

You can imagine how she reacted.

Shocked.

Denial.

Then, the tears. The way she must’ve curled up in her bed, crying her heart out.

The way she must’ve whispered, No, no, no, they promised. They promised we’d have more days together.

The way she must’ve broken, knowing you never got to celebrate her win.

Knowing you never got to say goodbye.

Megan, darling.

You hope she knows how much you loved her.

You hope she knows how much you sacrificed for her.

You hope she knows, even in your final moments—

You were thinking of her.

73 notes · View notes