#car seat guidelines

[kids-worldfun]

Ensuring Child Safety on the Road: Choosing the Right Car Seat

Vehicular accidents are the second leading cause of death for American children, according to the Centers for Disease Control. Reports also reveal that over 162,000 children sustained injuries in car accidents in 2021 alone. Car seats are manufactured specifically for car crash protection and are designed to hold children safely. Data from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration…

[xshadowdelta]

Former Manager

Part One: Back in town.

Jo Yuri x Male Reader (2.9K Length)

The abrupt movements and the deceleration sensation alerted you, waking you up. Automatically you took a quick look out through the window of your seat, the clouds gave way to a landscape that brought back many memories, it wasn’t your first time landing at the Incheon Airport.

You got off the plane, taking your suitcase ready to leave the terminal. Breathing the air of that place in an attempt to calm you down, but you failed when all your memories flooded into your brain in a succession of images.

You started to walk thinking about it thoroughly, that nerves invade your body was kind of stupid being honest, you had done this before and with a lot more pressure according to yourself, after all not everyone could boast of have been a manager for the popular girl group Iz*One.

That’s right, after committing the biggest folly of your life by deciding to move to South Korea instead of go to the college you found a miracle job, specifically being one of the Iz*One managers for 1 year and a half. That was until due to some personal reasons you were forced to return to your home country. And 4 years later here you are, back in the Asian country to resume your job as a manager.

You were surprised when Wake One Entertainment contacted you offering a new job. Apparently they didn’t have enough managers in the company due to the arrival of new groups, which caused a total restructuring of the staff, leaving Kep1er in search of a new manager. That’s where you and your good work done with Iz*One years ago came in, knowing that the new head of the staff was one of your coworkers at that time.

It was a really complicated decision to make for several reasons: 1. You hadn't spoken the language for a long period of time. 2. Take care of a group full of teenage divas wasn’t an easy job. 3. And you were comfortable in your current job. Seen this way, only a crazy person would accept that offer. Exactly what you did 5 minutes later.

You came back down to earth as the cab stopped, and you were able to see right in front of you the Wake One building. You walked inside the building and introduced yourself to the front desk indicating that you were coming for the manager vacancy, one of the receptionists guided you to the conference room where your interview would take place.

The interview was nothing more than a formality, obviously the vacancy was yours, but certain guideline had to be met.

They told you that the Kep1er girls were currently in the USA for the KCON, so you would not start working with them until the next week, once they returned.

You returned to the main lobby, the keys of your new house were given to you alongside your company car with some more documents to sign.

It was at that moment meanwhile you were signing the documents that you heard a familiar voice behind you calling your name. “Manager oppa!”

You turned yourself to face the former Iz*One member and now soloist, Jo Yuri. “It is really you, manager oppa!?” She shouted in surprise, covering her mouth with her hands.

Your heart almost skipped a beat as you looked her up and down. She was no longer that little girl she used to be when you were spending your days with her. Even though she had grown up, she still had that youthful look.

“Excuse me, but…” You left the pen over the desk. “Do i know you?”

Her facial expression faded as soon as you said that, turning from surprise to annoyance.

“Do you really forgot about me, oppa!?” Her louder and offended voice made you laugh and making her even angrier.

“I couldn’t forget you so easy, Yuri.” You told her showing a smile and she sigh annoyed. “You still like teasing me. But it’s been a long time, what are you doing here?” Her tone sounded cheerful again.

“Woah, so now you’ll be managing Kep1er, they are so lucky to have you I envy them, but now I have to record my new song, hope to see you often around the company, oppa!” You said goodbye to her as you watched her to disappear when the elevator closed its doors, didn’t expect to meet one of your former members so soon.

You walked out the building to take the car and drive right to your new home, making a quick stop in a convenience store to buy some fast food for dinner accompanied by a drink.

Finally, you arrived at home, left the food bag and some papers on a nearby table and plopped down on the sofa visibly tired, jet lag was taking its toll.

Even so, you found the strength to browse through some things and investigate more about your new members while you had dinner. You were relieved to know that they were fewer than the last time, although from what you could see in some videos they seemed louder, especially that little girl named Hikaru.

You finished for today, noticing that it was already dark outside and decided to take a long relaxing shower before getting into bed, whereas you tried to fall asleep your memories of years ago with the Iz*One girls came flooding back.

After your step down you had been following from the distance the evolution of every member career, and you couldn't be more proud of each one of them, but seeing them now in real life would be a different feeling.

Then you remembered the brief encounter with Yuri in the company, you began to think about how much she changed in these years, she was one of the younger members back then, but now she seemed so much mature.

You couldn’t help but think how much her body had changed this time, she was all grown up and transform into a real woman. You even noticed how good she fit in those jeans she was wearing today that enhanced her hips and showed off her ass.

BUT WHAT THE HELL I AM EVEN THINKING! You shouted in your mind sitting up in the bed breathing heavily, how you could be thinking about her in that way, about one of the girls you took care for almost two years, the one you practically treated like a younger sister.

You lay back down in bed again, looking at the ceiling and then looked down at your pelvic area, noticing the big erection that had formed under your pants. “I must be sick.” You whispered, slipping your hand under your clothes, trying to stimulate yourself before falling asleep.

The next morning you made your way to the company, but first you took a shower and had breakfast that only consists of a coffee cup and a couple of cookies. The biggest part of the day happened in the office, you had so much work to do before Kep1er returned from their activities.

Around lunchtime someone knocked to your door, you stretched out on the chair giving way to the person who has knocked. “Oppa, let’s have lunch together!” Yuri exclaimed showing her head out the door.

She burst into your office carrying a heavy bag that lifted it to your eyes level.

“Yuri…”

“I assumed that you'll have a lot of work in your first day, and you always insisted me on not skipping meals, so it’s my time to pay you back.” she said with a big smile. She had touched you there.

“I really missed tteokbokki.” You said eating the food. Yuri was sitting in the chair in front of you, she wasn’t eating but admiring you. “Do I have to remind you that you also have to eat?” You scolded her, but she just laughed at it. “Don’t worry about me, I want to eat other type of food…” “Which one?” You asked, taking one more fried chicken piece. “You.” Hearing that made the piece of chicken slip on your chopsticks and roll off the desk, you couldn’t say anything, you were petrified.

“You spend a lot of time with Yena, now you also replicate her stupid jokes.”

“It’s not a joke, oppa.” For the first time ever you could see an unusual expression on her face, one you have never seen before, what was going on with her?

“Yuri, stop this joke now, it’s not funny…” “I’ve already told you, it’s not a joke…” She said standing up from her chair and crawled under your desk, reaching you.

“Yuri! What are you doing?”

“You are so tense, oppa, you should relax.” At this point she was fully under your desk reaching your legs and touching between them, why was this happening to you?

“I always thought that the first one to do something like this with you would be Eunbi unnie, years ago I found out she was talking about it together with Hyewon unnie and Chaeyeon unnie.” Hear that made you open wide your eyes, it couldn’t be true. “It’s kind of normal, a young women group with raging hormones and such a young manager, kind and attractive, it’s every girl’s dream.”

But she was right, back then you were too much young to managing a group, actually you still are today, even Eunbi was older than you. That’s why you considered all of them as your sisters, and that’s why this situation was so complicated.

“Yuri…we both knows this is so wrong.” You tried to reason with her.

“You are not my manager anymore and we both are adults, but mostly important…” She touched the huge bulge that had already formed under your pants. “You really desire it, don’t you?”

“Yuri, please, anyone could come in at any moment.” Your words were useless, she was already unbuckling the belt of your pants, and you couldn’t or rather didn’t want to do anything to stop her. A few seconds later you could felt how your penis was set free.

“IT’S SO BIG!” She exclaimed, amazed by the size of your dick, making you shift restlessly in your seat.

“Lower your voice, someone could hear you.” You scold her and became more and more anxious as you looked towards the door of your office.

“Sorry, it’s just…it’s incredible oppa.”

Her eyes couldn't be apart from your dick, she was totally hypnotized looking at it, but suddenly she started to massage your penis with her hands, making you moan.

She ran her tongue all over your length, from the tip to your balls and repeated this for a while, at each repeat your cock was more and more wet and your knuckles were turning white due to the strength you were grappling to the chair armrest.

She looked at your face still kneeling down ad if she was asking for permission to continue, you succumbed to the temptation, you had already fallen time ago, and nodded your head. Then she opened her mouth and put every inch of your cock she could inside her. She was struggling to make you be fully inside her mouth, but you were so much huge to her, so she decided to move her tongue around the part of your dick that was already inside.

You couldn’t describe what you were feeling at that moment, it was the nearest to being in pleasure paradise you never experienced. Yuri’s tongue didn’t stop moving over your penis, constants moves that went in unison with your moans.

She made an effort to make you fit completely in her mouth, you looked at her, noticing her cheeks filled with your cock. You let out a loud moan as the tip of your cock brushed against her throat.

She peeled herself off you for air, gasping visibly and with a large thread of saliva coming out of her mouth, masturbating you meanwhile she tried to recover.

“How the hell are you so good at this?” She smiled, taking that as a compliment. “I’ve dreamed a lot of times with this moment, I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s certainly better than masturbating by myself like last night.” You mentioned out loud as if you were talking to yourself. It took you a second to realize your mistake.

“Wait, what I wanted to say was…”

“I see.” She cut you off. “Manager oppa is a dirty man who has always thought about having me like this with him.”

“NO!” You quickly denied provoking her loud laughs.

“But it makes me happy, because you were always good and kind to me, so it’s my time to make oppa’s fantasies come true” She said bringing your cock closing to her mouth once again.

“What you mean?” You asked when a sinister smiled was formed on her face.

“Fuck my mouth, oppa.”

And there you lost the last shred of self-control you had, if you still had any.

As soon as she resumed the blowjob, you put one of your hands behind her head, making her swallow the entire of your length. Yuri supported her hands on your chair, trying to follow with her head the pace that you were now setting.

You could hear how she was choking on your cock every time your hands down her head into it. A bit worried, you tried to be less rude and give her a rest, but her hands stopped you, telling you that she was enjoying this as much as you.

“My god, Yuri...just like that…” You kept moaning, grabbing her hair that was falling into her forehead at the same time you started to move your hips making you go deeper on her mouth, fucking her throat.

She looked at you with fire in her eyes, telling you with her gaze that she wanted even more, you didn’t hesitate and kept fucking her mouth more aggressively.

You let her go, giving her time to catch her breath, her eyes were watering, and her makeup was totally ruined. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen in your life.

You bent down to lift her chin and kiss her passionate for a while until you separated from her and leaned back in your seat. You took your own penis in your hands, offering it to her.

“Finish the job.”

She immediately went back to sucking you desperately, her mouth was already habituated perfectly to your size, so you could notice how she was improved by the time pass.

You took her hands, forcing her to satisfy you using only her head. Sometimes it would slip out of her mouth and she would struggle to suck it back in, completely possessed by lust.

Her face was between your hands now, you couldn’t stop admiring the way she was sucking you, she placed your penis into her right cheek then you touched the resultant bulge, she stopped then and let your dick rest in her mouth closing her eyes enjoying your caresses.

If it were up to you, you would have stayed like this forever, but unfortunately it was time to end.

“Make sure to swallow it all.” You warned moving your hips faster feeling your load concentrating on your tip letting you know you were ready for the shot.

“YURI!” You screamed, unable to hold back any longer, reaching the orgasm and shooting your cum straight down her throat.

She did her best to hold it all in, but at the end a bit of cum dripped out of her mouth and ran down her chin to finally fall to the office floor.

The rest of your cum was still inside her mouth, she stepped back and opened her mouth to show you the amount of cum you gave to her. You watched her swallow all your cum at once, and that made you feel hornier than ever.

“Good girl.” You smiled at her.

She smiled you back and stood up, grabbing her bag to pull out a small makeup set, and trying to fix the mess you both made on her.

“Good as new.” She said, looking at herself in the small mirror. “Thanks for the meal oppa, hope we can repeat.” And she winked at you, making you come back to reality.

“Yuri, this was amazing, believe me, but it can’t happen again, or I will be in problems.”

“You don’t have to worry, I’ll make sure no one would discover us and…” Her cheeks turned red for a second.

“And?”

“I was thinking, maybe oppa can teach me a lot of things…” Oh, she was talking on that sense.

Your cheeks went also full red color and your brain started to malfunction, trying hard to formalize an excuse, a reason to refuse while she headed towards the door.

“Oh, I almost forget about it.” She stopped in the doorway.

“I told the girls about you, and they want to see you, Eunbi unnie will host a dinner party for us tonight in her house, you can’t miss it!” She said cheerful before leaving the office.

“Great, just what I needed.” You mumbled to yourself in an ironic way, throwing yourself back in the chair, noticing that you still had your member free, and hurried to get dressed again.

You slammed your face against the desk causing a louder sound and let it out a big sigh. “I’m going to get fired.”

[simplygojo]

The Cool Uncle Blurbs - JJK Men

Author's Note: Heyyy, so I have been told by a few of y'all that I need to write shorter blurbs, so this was my practice piece!. Each character's blurb is about 1k each...writing something this short is so foreign to me, I am so used to having 8k minimums for school, so this may take practice! Please let me know if you like these shorter blurbs :)

Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader; Satoru Gojo x f!reader; Kento Nanami x f!reader; Suguru Geto x f!reader

Inspiration/summary: Inspired by some art by @clemenlush (linked here) that inspired me to write the JJK men as cool uncles, lol. Let me know if any of y'all want me to do another character!!

Warnings: alcohol use, mention of baby-making!, softboys & fluff

Requests are open! Please read the Request Guidelines before submitting a request <33

✧.* — TOJI FUSHIGURO — ✧.*

You glanced at Toji as he steered the car down the quiet, tree-lined street. The low hum of the engine was the only sound between you two, but that familiar weight of his presence filled the silence. He always carried himself with an easy confidence, a kind of quiet power that made him stand out without even trying.

“You don’t have to look so annoyed,” you teased, catching the subtle furrow in his brow as he pulled into Jinichi’s driveway.

Toji didn’t say anything at first, just smirked and glanced sideways at you. “I’m not annoyed,” he grumbled, though the slight tilt of his mouth said otherwise. “Just not exactly in the mood for the family dinner crap.”

You rolled your eyes.

Classic Toji.

“Be nice. It’s just dinner. You’re not walking into a fight,” you reminded him with a soft laugh, unbuckling your seatbelt. “And you know exactly how much your nephew adores you.”

That earned you a low chuckle as he cut the engine and slouched back in his seat.

“Kid's got good taste. I’m the only fun one ‘round here.”

You both stepped out of the car and as you made your way up the driveway, the front door swung open. 

Your brother-in-law, Jinichi, stood there, smiling at you both, but barely had the chance to greet you before the sound of hurried footsteps followed behind him.

“Toji-ojisan!”

A small, dark-haired blur darted past Jinichi and straight toward Toji. Before you could blink, Toji’s nephew had attached himself to his leg, looking up with wide eyes.

“Uncle Toji! You came! Are you gonna tell me more stories about when you were younger?”

Toji raised an eyebrow, smirking down at the kid, then cast a sidelong glance at you.

“See? Told you. I’m the fun one.”

You shook your head, trying to suppress a smile as Toji crouched down to ruffle his nephew’s hair.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too full of yourself.”

“Already am,” he replied, deadpan, before turning his full attention to the kid.

“What’s up, brat? You been behaving?”

The little boy nodded enthusiastically, practically bouncing on his toes.

“Yep! I’ve been practicing just like you told me. Can we go to the backyard later? You gotta see my new moves!”

Toji stood back up, arms crossed as he exchanged a quick glance with Jinichi, who gave a knowing grin.

There was an unspoken fondness between them, though Jinichi didn’t say anything, just stepping aside to let you in.

Inside, the house was warm and inviting, the scent of homemade food already filling the air. You noticed Toji’s posture relax—just a bit—as you made your way to the living room.

His nephew stuck to his side like glue, constantly asking about everything from Toji’s workout routine to his old school stories.

Toji answered in his usual blunt way, never indulging the kid too much, but just enough to keep him hooked.

After dinner, you found yourself sitting outside on the back patio, watching Toji and his nephew go over some silly mock sparring moves.

The boy had his fists up, trying to mimic Toji’s stance, all while Toji lazily dodged the punches, not bothering to hide the amusement in his eyes.

You leaned back in your chair, and for a moment, it was like your heart swelled in your chest—three sizes too big, you thought with a smile.

It was impossible not to feel that warmth as you watched Toji with his nephew, his tough exterior softened just a bit in these moments.

He’d never admit it, but seeing him like this, in his own way, playing the doting uncle…it made you melt.

You could see it in the way his nephew looked at him, hanging onto his every word. And the way Toji engaged—aloof but present—it warmed something deep inside you.

“You’re such a softie, you know that?” you called out, your voice teasing but laced with affection.

Toji turned, still holding up a lazy guard, eyes narrowing playfully. “Yeah? How d’you figure?”

You gave him a knowing grin, folding your arms. “Look at you—out here entertaining him like you don’t enjoy it. Don’t act like you don’t love being the ‘cool uncle.’”

He straightened up, brushing his hands through his hair as he cast a quick glance at his nephew—who was too busy practicing his “new moves” on a nearby tree—to respond.

Then, with a smirk that made your heart skip a beat, he stepped toward you. “Maybe I am a softie,” he started, voice low, “but only for you.”

You blinked, a playful roll of your eyes as you went to respond—

“Though, I’ll tell ya, there’s somethin’ I’m neverr soft for...”

It took you all of two seconds to realize where he was going, but before he could finish the joke, you flicked him right in the forehead.

“Toji!” You scolded, laughing despite yourself.

He grinned, all too pleased with himself, as he rubbed his forehead.

“What? You’re the one who brought it up, sweetheart.”

“You’re awful,” you said, shaking your head, though the warmth in your chest remained. You could never stay mad at him, especially not when he was like this—so smug, so sure of himself.

“And to think I almost thought you were sweet for a second.”

He leaned down, one hand coming to rest on the arm of your chair as he hovered over you, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

“Almost, huh?”

You flicked his forehead again, but softer this time. “Don’t push your luck.”

He chuckled, leaning back and crossing his arms as he glanced toward his nephew, still occupied in his makeshift sparring match with the tree.

“Brat’s got a lot to learn,” he muttered, but you could hear the fondness there, the warmth beneath his tough exterior.

“Kid might be cooler than me one day.”

You smiled, shaking your head as you watched the two of them together.

“Not possible,” you said softly, though Toji didn’t hear it—or pretended not to.

Either way, in that moment, your heart was full. This was your life, and honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

✧.* — GOJO SATORU — ✧.*

Gojo’s fingers tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel as he hummed along to the radio, sunglasses perched—needlessly—on his nose despite the fact it was well after sunset.

You shot him a side-eye.

“You do realize we’re just going to Shoko’s for dinner, right? You’re acting like you’re about to perform on stage.”

He grinned, his lips pulling into that signature cocky smile.

“Aren’t I always the main attraction, though? Especially tonight. Her kid adores me.”

You snorted. “Yeah, because you let him climb all over you like a jungle gym.”

“Hey, I’m just providing the fun. I can’t help that I’m a natural favourite,” he quipped, glancing at you for emphasis before focusing back on the road.

“You say that like it’s a talent,” you teased, though the warmth in your chest grew as you thought about it.

It was hard not to love Gojo when he was like this—carefree, playful, and so naturally magnetic, especially around kids.

By the time you pulled up to Shoko’s house, you could already hear the muffled sound of laughter and conversation.

The front door creaked open before either of you could knock, and Shoko’s five-year-old son burst out, arms outstretched, ready to greet his hero.

“Gojo-nii!” The kid’s excitement was so pure, it was contagious.

Gojo’s grin only widened, and he crouched down to scoop him up in one smooth motion.

“Hey, champ! Been keeping things under control at this house? Your mom can be a handful…”

The boy giggled as Gojo swung him around effortlessly, his small hands gripping the fabric of Gojo’s coat. 

You stood back for a moment, hand still resting on the open passenger door, with a growing smile on your face.

Gojo’s childlike energy matched the kid’s perfectly, and it never failed to make your heart melt.

“He’s been waiting for you all day,” Shoko called from the hallway, rolling her eyes as she stepped into view.

“Good luck tearing him away from you tonight.”

Gojo set the kid down with a dramatic flair, straightening up and shooting a playful wink at you.

“What can I say? I’ve got that irresistible charm.”

“Careful, your ego’s showing again,” you quipped, nudging him as you all walked into the house.

As Gojo and the boy ran off to “catch up”—which likely meant some sort of wild chase through the living room—you found yourself watching from the kitchen doorway, arms crossed and heart swelling.

It always surprised you how soft Gojo could be, especially around kids. 

His usual swagger and bravado were still there, but he had a way of connecting with them that was genuinely sweet. It made your heart skip in ways you had never expected.

You smiled to yourself, shaking your head slightly as you watched Gojo give the kid a piggyback ride, the room filled with their laughter. 

Shoko came up beside you, handing you a glass of wine. 

“Never thought I’d see the day where Satoru Gojo is someone’s favorite jungle gym,” she commented dryly, taking a sip from her own glass.

You laughed softly, nodding. “Yeah, it’s weird, right? But he loves it.”

Shoko gave you a knowing look. “Does he? Or does he just love being adored?”

You grinned, letting out a short laugh before responding.

“Both. Definitely both.”

Later, after dinner, Gojo had somehow convinced the boy to show him every toy he owned, and you found yourself watching them again, heart swelling even more.

You didn’t know how, but every time Gojo was around that kid, you swore your heart was overwhelmed with admiration.

“You’re good with him, you know,” you said softly as you sidled up next to Gojo, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, helping the boy assemble a toy robot. “It’s almost like you… enjoy this.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, feigning offence. “Enjoy? What are you trying to say, love? You think I’m not the paternal type?”

You smirked, leaning down to whisper, “I think you love it, actually...”

Gojo leaned back slightly, crossing his arms and giving you a playful look. “Oh, I love a lot of things,” he said smoothly, lowering his voice.

“And most of them are when we’re not around a five-year-old.”

You blinked, realizing the meaning behind his words, and lightly smacked him at the back of his head. “Satoru!”

“Ow!” He pouted, rubbing the back of his head. “What? I’m just being honest.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a grin. “You’re the worst.”

“Actually…I’m the best,” he corrected with a wink, as the kid ran back to Gojo’s side, completely oblivious to the innuendo.

Watching Gojo with that playful smile and the way he effortlessly entertained the kid—who was still tugging at his sleeve to show him yet another toy—made you feel an overwhelming sense of warmth.

Sure, Gojo could be an insufferable flirt, but seeing him like this, so naturally connected and full of energy, reminded you why you loved him so much.

Even when he was being a ridiculous show-off, he had a way of making your heart burst with affection.

“Okay, okay,” you said, shaking your head fondly.

“Let’s see if you can at least try to behave yourself the rest of the night.”

Gojo stood up, stretching dramatically, and then leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“No promises. You know me—I always aim to please.”

You smacked him again, this time softer, as he flashed that signature grin of his and turned his attention back to Shoko’s son, who was already planning his next adventure with his “cool uncle.”

✧.* — NANAMI KENTO — ✧.*

The evening sky was beginning to blush with hues of orange and pink as you and Nanami made your way to your sister's house. 

The quiet hum of the car and the familiar scent of Nanami’s cologne made the drive feel calm, though you couldn’t help the tiny flutter of excitement in your stomach.

Family dinners were always nice, but this time there was a little extra something—your niece loved Nanami.

“I think she loves you more than she loves me,” you said playfully, turning to glance at your husband as he kept his eyes focused on the road.

Nanami’s lips twitched into the smallest of smiles.

“Hardly. She just appreciates that I bring her books.”

“Books, toys, puzzles, snacks—don’t act like you haven’t been spoiling her.” You teased, gently nudging his arm.

He gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug, but you could see the way his eyes softened.

“I just want to make sure she’s happy.”

You grinned.

It was the kind of answer you'd expect from Nanami—thoughtful, selfless, and with an unspoken affection that melted your heart every time.

It was hard to imagine anyone not loving him, really. 

As you pulled up in front of your sister’s house, you didn’t even have a chance to step out of the car before the front door swung open.

Your niece, a whirlwind of energy with messy pigtails and a huge smile, came racing down the path.

“Uncle Kento!” she squealed, her little feet pounding against the pavement as she made a beeline for Nanami.

He stepped out of the car just in time for her to throw her arms around his legs, hugging him tightly. Nanami looked slightly startled but quickly softened, crouching down to her level. “Hello, sweetheart.”

Her face lit up at his greeting, and she quickly started tugging him towards the house.

“Come on! I have to show you my new dollhouse! You’re going to love it!”

You watched them from a few steps behind, heart warming at the sight. Nanami—who always seemed so composed and serious—was completely wrapped around your niece’s tiny finger. It was an endearing contrast, watching the usually stoic man willingly get pulled into a child’s world of excitement and play.

By the time you reached the front door, your niece had already dragged Nanami inside, babbling non-stop about the dollhouse, the latest puzzle he bought her, and a new storybook she wanted him to read later. 

You exchanged a smile with your sister, who had appeared in the doorway, laughing as she watched her daughter commandeer Nanami's attention.

“He’s got the magic touch with kids, huh?” Your sister remarked, raising an eyebrow at you.

You chuckled, stepping inside. “She loves him. I think she’s ready to keep him all to herself.”

“Good luck getting him back,” she teased, giving you a playful nudge as you both headed into the living room.

Dinner was filled with easy conversation, laughter, and your niece proudly showing Nanami everything she could think of—her new school projects, her favorite toys, and even a drawing she had made “just for him.” 

He listened attentively, offering genuine praise, his voice calm but warm in a way that made it clear he wasn’t just humoring her. He cared.

You found yourself watching the two of them, your heart swelling with each small interaction. 

It was impossible not to smile, seeing Nanami, the man who rarely let himself relax, so at ease around your niece. 

Nanami had just finished reading her a bedtime story, and now she was fast asleep, curled up under the blankets with her favorite stuffed toy.

“She’s asleep,” he murmured softly, his hand brushing your niece’s hair away from her face.

You stepped forward, quietly gathering the blankets to tuck her in. “You’re really good with her, you know?”

He glanced at you, a faint smile on his lips. “I try.”

“No, really,” you said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “She loves you. You’re her favorite.”

Nanami’s eyes softened at your words, but he didn’t say much more, his hand lingering on your niece’s small form for a moment longer before standing up.

The two of you quietly exited the room, letting her sleep in peace.

After saying your goodbyes to your sister and thanking her for dinner, you both made your way out to the car. 

The night air was cool, and the streets were quiet as Nanami opened the passenger door for you, his hand resting briefly at the small of your back as you slid into the seat.

The drive home was calm, with the rhythmic sound of the tires against the road creating a peaceful background hum. You glanced out the window, watching the city lights blur into soft orbs as they passed by.

Nanami was silent beside you, his hands steady on the wheel. There was something thoughtful in the way he held himself, a quiet contemplation that you could sense even without looking at him.

After a few minutes, he finally spoke.

“You know, I’ve been thinking…” You tilted your head, curiosity piqued by the sudden weight in his voice.

Nanami hesitated for a moment, his thumb tapping lightly on the steering wheel before reaching over to rest on your thigh.

“Of what I want,” he said, his voice a little quieter. “Of what we could have.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the implication behind his words, and you turned to face him fully, sensing where this was going.

“Kento…” You began softly.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” he continued, his gaze fixed ahead on the road.

“For a while now, actually.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel your pulse quicken as the meaning behind his words settled in. He wasn’t just talking about your niece anymore.

“You’re talking about…” you trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper.

“A family,” he finished for you, his tone gentle but certain. “I want us to have a baby.”

For a moment, you just sat there.

You had always known that Nanami cared deeply, that he was serious about your future together, but hearing him say it like this, so plainly, so sincerely—it was something else entirely.

“You want a baby?” You repeated softly, your heart swelling with a mix of emotions.

He nodded, his eyes still focused on the road but softening as he spoke.

“Yes. I want to start a family with you. I’ve been thinking about it for some time, but… I didn’t want to pressure you.”

You reached over, gently placing your hand on top of his where it rested on your leg.

“You’re not pressuring me, Kento. I…” You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts.

“I want that too. With you. More than anything.”

When you finally pulled up to your home, Nanami turned off the engine and sat there for a moment, the faint glow of the streetlights illuminating his thoughtful expression. 

He turned to you, reaching out to cup your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that made your heart skip.

“I mean it,” he murmured. “Whenever you’re ready. We’ll do this together.”

You leaned into his touch, your eyes meeting his with a warmth and certainty you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Well…I am ready now...” You said with a playful tone.

He smiled then—small, soft, and full of love—and leaned in to press a tender kiss to your lips, sealing the quiet promise you had both made tonight.

“Well then lets get inside.”

✧.* — SUGURU GETO — ✧.*

It was a peaceful evening, and the low hum of conversation filled the room, accompanied by the occasional clatter of building blocks. You sat cross-legged on the couch, watching as Suguru helped Utahime's son with his tower-building endeavor.

The little boy was fully engaged, eyes bright with excitement as Suguru gently guided his small hands to balance each block perfectly.

“Higher, Sugu! Make it taller!” the boy giggled, his enthusiasm filling the room with an infectious joy.

Suguru chuckled softly, his deep voice filled with warmth.

“Careful, we don’t want it to fall,” he murmured, adding another block to the structure with a steady hand.

His long fingers made the task look effortless, and the boy watched in awe.

You leaned back against the couch cushions, the sight of Suguru interacting with the child making your heart swell.

There was something about seeing him like this—patient, soft-spoken, so full of care. It was a side of him that you loved deeply, and it reminded you just how much of a natural he was with kids.

“You’re really good with him,” you commented, your voice a little more tender than usual as you admired the scene before you.

Suguru glanced over at you, the corners of his mouth lifting in a faint smile.

“He’s easy to please,” he said, turning his attention back to the boy, who was now clapping his hands excitedly as the tower grew taller.

“Still,” you said, watching the way the boy leaned into Suguru, clearly adoring him, “he’s obsessed with you. I’ve never seen him so attached.”

Suguru smirked, a playful glint in his eyes.

“What can I say? I’m just irresistible.”

You rolled your eyes at that, but your heart warmed anyway.

“Sure, sure. Let’s just hope you don’t break his heart when we leave.”

The boy turned to you, his face lighting up with joy. “Sugu is so cool, y/n! He’s gonna help me with my blocks forever!”

You chuckled, brushing a hand through your hair as you watched Suguru pretend to be serious.

“Forever, huh? That’s a long time, buddy.”

Suguru leaned down, lowering his voice conspiratorially as if sharing a secret with the boy.

“I don’t mind,” he whispered, his tone teasing. “As long as I get to build the biggest towers.”

The boy giggled, his eyes sparkling as he nodded enthusiastically. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight—it was moments like this that made your heart grow three sizes.

You leaned forward, nudging Suguru’s shoulder lightly.

“Admit it, you’re loving this.”

Suguru’s dark eyes flickered with amusement as he glanced at you, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Of course! What’s not to love?”

Before you could respond, the familiar sound of keys jingling outside the door caught your attention.

You glanced at the clock—it was just about time for Utahime to be home.

The front door creaked open, and Utahime stepped inside, looking a little worn out but smiling when she saw the scene in front of her.

“Looks like I missed all the fun,” she said, her voice carrying a mix of relief and gratitude as she took in the sight of her son sitting on the floor, still glued to Suguru’s side.

“Mama!” The boy immediately jumped up, running toward her with open arms. Utahime knelt down, scooping him up with a tired but happy sigh.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she murmured, kissing the top of his head. “Were you good for Suguru and y/n?”

“He was an angel,” you replied with a smile, standing up from the couch. “Though, I think Suguru’s the real hero tonight.”

Utahime chuckled, glancing at Suguru with an appreciative smile.

“I don’t doubt it. Thanks for watching him—both of you. I owe you one.”

Suguru waved her off, standing up and stretching his arms.

“No need. He’s a fun kid. We built the tallest tower yet.”

The boy wiggled in Utahime’s arms, looking up at her excitedly.

“Mama, it was so tall! Sugu’s the best!”

Utahime smiled down at him, her eyes softening. “I’m glad you had fun, sweetie. Let’s get you ready for bed, okay?”

As Utahime carried her son off to his room, you turned to Suguru, your hand finding his arm as you gave him a gentle squeeze.

“You were great with him tonight,” you said softly, your eyes full of affection.

Suguru gave you a warm smile, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple.

“I had fun,” he murmured. “But we should probably head out.”

You nodded, glancing around the apartment to make sure everything was in order. After a few minutes, Utahime returned, looking more relaxed now that her son was settled.

“Thanks again, guys,” she said, walking you both to the door. “I’ll definitely owe you one for this.”

“Anytime,” you replied with a smile, giving her a quick hug before stepping out into the cool evening air.

As you and Suguru made your way to his bike, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment settle over you. There was something peaceful about nights like this—watching Suguru be so gentle and kind, seeing how naturally he fit into the role of caretaker.

It stirred something warm and familiar deep within you.

Once you both stepped outside into the cool evening air, Suguru glanced at you with a smirk.

“You know,” he started, his tone laced with that unmistakable teasing charm, “playing with Utahime’s kid is fun and all, but…” He paused, raising an eyebrow as he reached for your hand. “I was thinking we should get home and get to some 'baby-making' ourselves… if you know what I mean.”

Heat instantly bloomed in your cheeks as you laughed, nudging him in the ribs. “Suguru!”

But before you could respond properly, Suguru swept you off your feet with ease, lifting you into his arms.

“What? It’s a solid plan, plus you're the one who kept saying I'm just sooo good with kids.” He grinned, peppering your face with soft kisses as he carried you toward his motorcycle.

“Put me down!” You laughed, but your protests were playful as Suguru’s kisses continued, light and affectionate, his breath warm against your skin.

“You love it,” he murmured between kisses, making you giggle even more.

With one final press of his lips to your forehead, Suguru set you down beside his motorcycle, the playful glint in his eyes still there.

“Now, let’s get home,” he said, sliding onto the bike and passing you your helmet. “We’ve got some important work to do.”

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you climbed onto the bike behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

As the engine roared to life, you pressed your cheek against his back, feeling that same peaceful contentment wash over you once more.

And as you sped off into the night, the playful warmth of Suguru's teasing stayed with you, a reminder of just how lucky you were to have him by your side.

Author's Note II: Let me know your thoughts on these and lmk if you want me to do any other characters :)

LOVE Y'ALL

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 1

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

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

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: um I woke up to this in my head. Sorry.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You honk your horn as another driver slowly veers toward the line. You’re not letting them in. If they can’t weave in, then they aren’t fast enough to leave the slow lane. You sigh and gesture at them as kindly as you can in that instant. You have enough going on. 

Your phone starts to ring. Again. You tap the button on your steering wheel to answer. You would know who it is even without his custom ringtone. Your boss allows no space for breathing, even on a call. 

“How far out are you, pixie?” Lloyd asks as you growl and lean on the gas pedal. You hate driving on the highway, especially at night, and the sky is steadily dimming. 

“Close,” you assure him. “Next exit,” you flip your blinker on. 

“Thank god. You got everything?” 

Yeah, everything you forgot. You don’t give the dry retort aloud. You know better. Where your boss has no filter to be found, you find yourself often censoring yourself. As much for his ego as for others’. Arguing never gets you anywhere. 

“I believe so--” 

“You believe or you do?” He asks impatiently. 

“Mr. Hansen, I got everything on the list,” you assure him. “All with a bow on top.” 

“A life saver, pix, I swear,” he praises, but a compliment from him is rarely genuine, more transactional. You did him a favour so he’ll give you a treat. 

“Alright, I need to get over, ramp’s coming up. So--” 

“Yeah, yeah,” his ends rustles and you hear a muffled female voice, “I got shit going on too. You got the address, text me.” 

He hangs up first. You can never be the first to end the call. He has to make the decisions. You just know how to guide him to the right one. You merge into the exit lane and follow the ramp away from the whirring stream of headlight. Finally. 

You’re less than pleased to be within minutes of your destination. This isn’t how you envisioned your holiday. A last-minute itinerary change to fix yet another of Mr. Hansen’s oversights. It’s never a mistake, he’s just a man with so much going on that it slipped his radar. Another bandage for his ego. 

The slower pace feeds your agitation. At least on the highway, you felt like you were getting somewhere. The lazy roll of the cars in the town tweaks at the nape of your neck. You just want to be in one place and that won’t happen even when you get to Mr. Hansen. 

You’ll be lucky to have two hours of sleep before you have to catch your rebooked flight. Yep. You’ll play Santa and drop off your lot before hiding at the hotel long enough to dread the airport jungle. Then it’s off to your own familial obligations. Those are rarely enjoyable and being a day later than promised will hardly please your mother. 

Your phone announces your arrival at the destination. The long drive of the over-sized suburban mansion is full. You park on the street and turn on the interior light. You get out and open the back seat. The whole medley of shiny paper and quaffed bows stares back at you. 

You text Mr. Hansen and wait, huffing and puffing with impatience. Of course, you have to upheave your plans to meet his deadlines, but he’s taking his time. It’s not a surprise, not even a disappointment, you expected as much. 

“Pixieee,” Lloyd drags out the last syllable, “there you are, pretty pixie.” 

Pretty Pixie? He’s drunk or he’s going to ask for something else. You brace yourself as his shadow struts up the long driveway and passes beneath the cone cast by the tall street lights. Coloured lights glimmer over him from the eaves of the surrounding facades. 

“Mr. Hansen, wrapped, labelled, everything you requested,” you gesture to the backseat. 

“An angel. A true saviour, pixie,” he surprises you as he grabs your head, his palms pressing to your cheeks as he bends to kiss your forehead, “did I ever tell you you’re immaculate?” 

“Mr. Hansen,” you gently pull his wrists until he drops his hands. You smell the alcohol radiating off of him. 

“It’s the holiday, call me Lloyd, sweet cake,” he insists. 

“Right,” you tut and turn to drag out the largest gift bag, “here, you better just take all this, I have to check-in--” 

“About that,” he ignores the gift as you hold it out. “We’re just about to start dinner, you should pop in, have a bite.” 

“I can’t, Mr. Hansen--” 

“Of course you can,” he insists. You look up at him. His eyes gleam in the spectrum of lights shining from your car, the houses, and the tall poles. You sniff. He’s only tipsy, there’s still the hint of authoritarianism firmly implanted in his tone. “I told everyone you would.” 

“Everyone?” You echo anxiously. 

“The family,” he exclaims as if it should be obvious. 

“Okay, I can come say hello but--” you wiggle the bag at him. 

“Damn right you can,” he catches your hand and takes the bag. He drops it on the ground carelessly. 

“Mr. Hansen, that’s fragile,” you say. 

“Shhhh,” he grabs your hand and you curl and unfurl your fingers desperately, “Lloyd, remember?” He feels around in his pocket as he keeps you in his vice, “now, you just need to slip this on.” 

He struggles to line up the ring with your finger as you squirm in confusion. What is he doing? 

“Mr. Han--” 

“Lloyd,” he growls, all humour trickling away. He squeezes until you whimper. “Look, I just need you to smile and bat those long lashes of yours, alright?” 

“What’s going on?” 

“As far as anyone knows, I proposed to you on Thanksgiving,” he says. 

“Proposed?!” You nearly shriek. 

He hushes you again and finally rams the ring down to your knuckle. “Look, pixie, mommy’s being a real pain in my ass so you just need to play along.” 

“Mr.--” 

“If I have to tell you one more time--” 

“Lloyd,” you gulp, “please. I... this is... strange. What? Why? I have a flight in eight hours.” 

“Cancel it,” he sneers. “Double time and a half for holiday overtime. See the family in the New Year.” 

“What? That’s-- This is insane--” 

“This is your job, honey,” he clings to your hand. “To do what I say or you can spend your January trawling the job boards.” He squeezes until the band digs into your flesh. “Now, I know Mr. Walker thinks you’re darling and he offered you a role last year but once I tell him about your little defiance issue, I don’t think he’ll be interested--” 

“Huh?” 

“I know a lot more than you think,” he grits. “Alright? So let’s start getting this shit inside. That’ll give you a chance to get yourself together.” 

“Lloyd,” you gasp. “Why--” 

“No more fucking question. Since when did you get so uppity,” he barks. 

“Sir--” 

“Ah, none of that, either,” he lets you go and waggles his finger in your face. “Relax. Have some eggnog when we get inside and take the edge off.” 

“This can’t be happening,” you murmur. 

“It’s fucking happening, alright?” He picks up the bag off the ground. “I keep you around ‘cause you’re quick on your feet, Pix, so let’s get to it.” 

“Oh god,” you utter. 

“Keep it to yourself,” he warns. 

Your disbelief has you a bit dumb. You’re panicking. He knows you have an insurance policy with Walker and you have no doubt he’ll do all he can to spoil your future if you fuck around with his present. You’ve worked long enough for him to believe his threats, even when everything else is dubious. 

You turn and grab several gifts from the backseat. You move out of his way and he gathers some more himself. He backs up and uses his knee to close the door. He nods you toward the house. 

“Smile, act like you’re excited,” he commands. 

You pass him and stare up at the blaze of holiday lights. The lawn is decorated with a Santa and sleigh, complete with all his reindeer. You make the march up the walk and towards the glowing windows that trim the front door.  

Lloyd comes up next to you and kicks it, “open up.” 

It isn’t long before obedience appears from the other side. You do a double take at the man who answers the door. He looks a lot like Lloyd but not. He doesn’t sport the same bristly stache and his hair neatly combed, the sides unshaved but tidy. He rolls his eyes. 

“Was hoping you got lost in the snow,” the man scoffs. 

“Shut up,” Lloyd shoulders through, “always a fucking prick, Hugh.” 

The other man snarls, “don’t fucking call me that.” 

“Aw, I’m sorry, baby boy,” Lloyd puts the gifts on the bench against the wall, under the large mirror with an elaborate frame. “Why don’t you go suck on mommy’s teat?” 

“You’re disgusting,” the other man, Hugh, hisses. 

“Speak for yourself. We’re the OnlyFans thot? She not joining us?” 

“Oh, fuck you.” 

“Fuck you, fuck me, we already did this, remember?” Lloyd faces him. 

“And who’s this slut?” The man tosses you a sharp glare.  

“Woah, man, that’s my future wife,” Lloyd lies so easily it startles you. He sounds almost genuine and you’ve never heard him sound like that. “Not a slut, so keep your eyes and your hands to yourself.” 

“Huh, I didn’t believe it,” the man puts his hand on his hip as he looks you up and down, “she’s tiny.” 

You narrow your eyes, speechless as they talk about you like a new lamp. 

“Ransom,” Lloyd gestures to him derisively, “Pixie. Now you’ve met so you can skedaddle back to the liquor cabinet.” 

The man, Ransom, snickers, “good luck, sweetheart,” he scoffs. “If you need a drink, just look for me. You probably will. At least for the next forty years.” 

He struts off through the archway behind him and you look at Lloyd. He takes the armful of gifts from you and grumbles. He stops and crosses his arms.  

“Well, get your boots off. Mom will kill you if you’re tracking salt all over her freshly polished floors,” he shakes his head. “And a bit of advice, stay away from my cousin. Ransom’s a fucking pest.” 

“Right, sir.” 

He tilts his head and you show your palms, “Lloyd.” 

“Good girl,” he says and slips free of his loafers. “Now, you’re going to have to meet my parents before anyone else or I won’t hear the end of it. I’ve already got an earful. I know I shoulda booked that resort...” 

You unzip your boots and set them aside on the rack. You stand and he beckons you past the open archway and down the hallway. You take in the decor; gold on beige on ivory. It’s all very luxurious. 

He pushes through a white birch door and warmth enshrines you along with the smell of turkey. There’s a clattering beneath a shrill voice snapping out orders, “oh, not mashed, whipped!” 

A tall blonde woman crosses her arms as she hovers like a vulture over the aproned staff crowded around the large marble island. Lloyd grabs your hand and drags you after him. Your socks slip on the tile as dread coils up your limbs. 

“Mom, she’s here,” he announces as he gets close to her. 

“Ugh, about time, they already set the table and I was dreading the empty plate,” she slithers. She turns her chin down to see you, “Oh, look at her. She’s so... petite.” She levels her hand with the top of your head, “much different than I envisioned.” 

You look at Lloyd as he pushes his shoulders back. You’ve never heard anyone talk to him like that and you’ve never seen him so uptight. You turn your attention back to the woman. 

“Hello, Mrs. Hansen, it’s nice to meet you,” you offer your hand. 

She considers it then grabs it, turning the ring up. You examine the jewel as she does the same, your first glimpse at the thing. She harrumphs, “that’s the ring?” 

“Mom,” Lloyd utters. 

“Mm, very well. Dear, you may call me Gwenyth, not Mrs. Hansen,” she lets you go. “Now, dear son, out of my way. I’m trying to get dinner done.” 

Lloyd stares at her, almost expectantly, the takes your hand again and leads you away. He pulls you back through the door. You don’t dare say a word. He leads you away from the kitchen and the wall of voices buzzing from the front room. He guides you through the archway opposite and around to another door. 

He knocks and there’s a lull as you wait. He taps again. There’s coughing from the other side. “What do you want?” 

“Just me, Dad,” Lloyd answers. 

“Ugh, get in here then,” the timbre calls back. 

Lloyd twists the knob and urges you in ahead of him. The smell of cigar smoke blows in with the cold wind. A gray-haired man puffs by the window, his efforts to puff through the opening sabotaged by the wintry gusts. 

“Close the door. I don’t need the banshee sniffing me out,” he growls. 

“Sure,” Lloyd shuts the door. “Dad, uh, this is her. The woman I told you about. My fiance.” 

“Took you long enough,” the man sneers. You flinch and his grey eyes soften, “him, I mean. Forty-three years--” 

“Dad,” Lloyd rasps. 

“Well,” his father looks you over, “she’s young. Bit small...” 

You do your best not to let your annoyance show. So you’re a little shorter than average. 

“William,” he introduces himself, “and you are?” 

“Pixie,” Lloyd answers for you. 

“Didn’t ask you, boy,” William rebukes and keeps his eyes on you. “You smoke?” 

You mull his question and sigh, “never tried it but I guess it’s never too late to start.” 

William snorts, “truer words.” He puffs, “I don’t recommend it. Horrible habit.” He tamps out the stogie in a copper tray. “Well then, is the food ready, or did you just come to show me your woman?” 

Lloyd stiffens and touches your lower back, “guess I just came to do that.” He mutters, “come on, let’s go get something to drink.” He turns and opens the door. 

“Don’t let the smoke out,” William snips as you spin around. 

[bigboysfalldeep]

mass cop conversion

After a successful field test, Officers Bradley, Johnson, Miller, and Phillips were sitting inside their vehicle. It was a pretty exhausting day, doing multiple fitness tests, shooting exercises, and reviewing tactical guidelines.

They are on their way back to the station on a vacant road through the forest, a little outside of town. Bradley has been sitting in the passenger seat right next to his partner for 3 years, Johnson, who's sitting behind the steering wheel. The other two officers are sitting in the back, both of them browsing their phones. He exchanged a knowing look with his partner before shaking their heads and smiling.

As two senior officers, they had to teach the greener cops how to act, what to do, and what to say without causing too much trouble. It was working quite well, but at times, the rookies, especially Phillips, were a bit too enthusiastic.

After a long day at work, Bradley was barely able to keep his eyes open; luckily, he wasn't the one driving. Yet, as he rests his head against the seat behind him, he spots a little bright light shining through the woods.

"That's odd." He growled, drawing Johnson's attention.

"What?" His partner asked before turning his head as well.

Both of them watch the light shine brighter, illuminating more and more of the forest ground.

Now, even the rookies turned their heads, and all four men watched the light approach them, bewildered, before Johnson stopped the car.

"What are you doing?" Miller asked, his voice shaking slightly.

"It could be something worth investigating." Bradley said, looking at his partner.

But then, before any of the officers could react, the light widened even more, engulfing their entire vehicle in a bright, white light.

"What the fuck?" Bradley said, covering his eyes with the back of his hands, as all the others did the same.

Through his fingers, he was able to see a big, shadowy figure approach their car from the front, clearly the source of this bright light.

"Fuck this." Johnson grunted, hitting the horn of the car in frustration.

"Who is this motherfucker?" Phillips groaned, trying to get a better look at the source of light as well.

Shaking his head, Bradley reached for the door, but before he could open it, a weird feeling spread through him.

The air all around them grew thicker, so heavy that it got so much harder to breathe properly. A burning sensation spread across Bradley's skin and eyes; clearly, it wasn't some ordinary light.

"Fuck." Miller groaned as well, and Bradley turned his head to the other officer's. Just by their expression alone, he knew they were feeling the same thing.

With his hands shaking, he reached for the door again, but the pressure on his body just got way worse. Something was pushing him back—some invisible force causing their bodies to stay in place.

"We need....to get out." Bradley's body was pressed against the seat, and he couldn't move a muscle; instead, his body tensed more and more due to the pressure put upon it.

"I can't.." Johnson said breathlessly, obviously feeling the same. "What is this?" His face grimaced in pain, and his voice broke, ending in a silent moan.

Bradley turned his head to find his partner leaning back against the seat, breathing very quickly. Both of his hands are on his chest, clawing at his clothes. He could tell that he was barely able to breathe.

At this time, his breath quickened rapidly as well. As Bradley tried to regain his composure, he looked at the rookies through the rear view mirror, just to see them in a similar state. Phillips looked even worse, sweating and panting heavily while also clawing at his tight uniform. The temperature inside the car rose as well, causing their predicament to feel even worse.

Both rookies looked at him, seemingly asking for help, but there was nothing he could do.

"It's going to be fine." He growled, trying to make the rookies feel at ease, even though he didn't even know what was happening to them.

Bradley shook his head but was unable to avoid the light. His face flushed with color as his skin heated up even more.

Subconsciously, he started to tug at his clothes and his vest, and he somehow managed to remove his helmet, making it a little easier to breathe, just for a second. It dropped to the floor, but the pressure on his chest intensified again.

The light was shining ever so brightly right inside their eyes, but there was something else, something much more dangerous, inmidst those beams of light—another, invisible beam, a force echoing through the entire vehicle.

Just then, Bradley noticed some sort of sound—music or a speech—echoing through the entire car as well. He couldn't understand a word; he just felt a rhythm invading his mind.

"What is that?" He growled, still breathing so fast.

In response, Phillips let out a low moan, with his voice so rough.

The car was rocking slightly, something neither officer had experienced before.

Bradley closed his eyes, all of him focusing, trying so hard to get control, to move, to get out of this car, yet something was stopping him—something now crawling into his mind.

Images appeared—so many different, weird images: men on their knees, men made to serve, men made to obey.

It struck something deep inside him: the sound, the rhythm, that blinding light—all of it was putting so much pressure on his body and mind.

As waves of electricity pulsated through every fiber and every bone of his body, his muscles were the first to react.

Bradley's body grew hard; his muscles bulged against the fabric of his uniform, causing his vest to act as more of a restraint than actual protection.

Unaware, he was now stroking himself, running a hand across his chest firmly through his vest and uniform shirt while trying to calm himself down and steady his breaths.

"Fuck." He shook his head, opened his eyes, and looked through the rear-view mirror once more.

Shocked, he saw both rookies doing the same, but even more: Phillips and Miller were leaning back against the seats, stroking their own chests with both of their hands. Their faces were plagued by pain and pleasure, with their expressions shifting rapidly. 

Both officers let out low moans as their bodies slowly reacted to their strokes. Their bodies moved in sync with the strokes and sensual movements.

Bradley himself intensified his strokes, feeling all of his muscles tense more and more.

As much as it was terrifying, something deep inside him found this alluring, but that wasn't him. It was a thought planted in him by that invisible, indoctrinating force.

"What is happening?" He cried out before a low groan escaped his lips. Barely able to move, he turned his head to see Johnson already one step ahead.

His partner's face looked pain-ridden, looking right into the bright light. He was stroking himself firmly beneath his vest, feeling himself, and touching himself so lovingly.

Bradley didn't understand what was happening to them, but his body was oddly into it. He could tell his member was hard already. Either due to the sight of the other officers or the pressure put on his body, he couldn't tell.

Just then, when he turned his face back into the light, his head grew so heavy. It was burning his eyes and, at the same time, invading his mind.

Panting, he struggled to keep his eyes open while his mind was flooded with more images and more thoughts of simple obedience.

This time, however, he saw himself as the obedient one. He was down on his knees, right next to this man he only knew as "sir". 

He was wearing a similar uniform, but his hands were cuffed behind his back. It was tight—it hurt a little—but he didn't mind. The man touched him lovingly—his cheeks, neck, and down to his thick chest—and it felt so good.

At the same time, one of his hands ran down his chest, right to his thighs, and between his legs. Bradley was growing so hard and so fast, and a sudden warmth began to engulf his chest.

Like a flower, it bloomed inside his chest and spread rapidly. His whole upper body tingled, and his breathing got out of control. Bradley moaned in ecstacy, leaning his head back once more.

His eyes rolled back into his head, turning white, while the tingling sensation flowed through him—into his arms, hands, and even into his fingertips. They felt numb, yet he experienced so much pressure and pleasure—his clothes were restraining him, however.

He tried to tear his clothes apart as all of his muscles grew bigger and harder, straining the fabric of his now-tight uniform.

Bradley was struggling to keep a sane mind; it was surreal. He managed to steady his head, but his eyes were so heavy.

Unable to speak, more moans escaped his lips, and when his eyes fell on those two rookies again, he groaned.

The young officers were experiencing the exact same thing. Both of them were touching themselves firmly through their uniforms. Their dicks were tenting visibly, with Phillips already staining his clothes either with his sweat or his cum.

They moaned and thrusted a few times, experiencing pure pleasure. Their eyes too rolled back a few times as their rough and husky voices filled the air all around them.

This encouraged Bradley to touch himself through his pants as well. His cock was larger than ever before—it was pressing against his pants, visibly even through his underwear and uniform—and he felt all of him growing even harder by the second.

Bradley was sweating heavily now as the air all around him grew even thicker, filled with the moans and groans of the other officers. The smell was even worse; all men were sweaty already, yet this was different. As some were leaking, it's smell mixed with the other bodily fluids.

Bradley closed his eyes, trying his best to block these thoughts, smells, and noises, but all he saw were more images of him being a mere plaything.

The man was demanding more, so his body flexed hard. He did everything to please him. And the same command entered his mind over and over again.

"Obey."

Part of him wanted to obey, to give in, yet he had to push it back to regain control over himself again.

Fighting back, shaking his head, and trying to thrash around, Bradley turned to Johnson, who was looking at him as well. Both men were touching themselves and their cocks firmly, but they tried hard to stay focused.

Johnson was looking for help—a release—but neither of them could move even an inch. They were struggling so hard but failed. Whatever was happening shouldn't be happening, was all they could think.

But the now-comforting warmth kept spreading into every corner of their bodies, making it so much harder to not just give in. Their minds were invaded once again—even more images of simple, blissful obedience.

Bradley steadied himself against the seat, one hand firmly grabbing his own cock, the other on his chest, stroking himself lovingly.

The warmth entered his thighs and legs and flowed into his toes, causing the numbing, tingling sensation to become more intense. His body moved on its own, spreading his legs to make more space for his large member and his hands running along its ever-growing shaft.

For one last time, he looked into the rear-view mirror.

In horror, he saw both officers giving in to this phenomenal feeling; Phillips and Miller were touching each other, stroking each other's chests firmly. Their gazes were empty, just looking straight ahead, while their expressions kept shifting—pain and pleasure—again and again.

He watched their hands encompass each other's bodies: chests, thighs, necks, biceps, and pecs. All while they growled, moaned, and groaned in unison.

Holding back a painful moan, he suddenly felt a hand on his chest—his partner's hand. Johnson started to stroke him gently.

"What are you?" Bradley turned his face to look at the other officer, who was looking into the bright light, his face red yet unbothered.

He tried to fight back, but something deep inside him was enjoying this. "Don't," he begged, but Johnson didn't reply; however, he moaned instead, still looking right into the light.

This sparked something inside Bradley's chest: the urge to be touched and be fondled with by another man. He saw the images again—how good it felt to be touched like that, to be obedient.

"Fuuck." He moaned deeply, loving the firm hand touching him, stroking him, and playing with his nipples through the thin fabric of his uniform.

Instinctively, he reached out as well, and once his fingertips touched Johnson's chest, his dick grew even harder.

He never thought of touching a man like that before, especially his partner or any other officer, but it just felt so good.

Bradley loved how this man's body reacted to the simplest touch—how hard his muscles and tight his clothes were.

He turned his face into the light and acted simply on command.

Both officers were touching each other, feeling each other, and enjoying each other's bodies.

It felt like the tingling sensation was following their every move as their bodies shifted slightly.

The officers eyes were unfocused; now vacant, all of them stared into the light when a single thought flooded their minds.

"Obey. Cum and obey. Cum and obey."

Simultaneously, the four men reached down for each other's rock-hard cocks, stroking them through their pants at first.

Sweating, they started to drool heavily as more and more moans escaped their lips.

One by one, they struggled to unbutton their uniform pants, but after a few failed attempts, they succeeded.

As Johnson pulled out Bradley's wet, hard cock, he instantly started to play with it. All the others did the same, wrapping their hands around each other's dicks and moving their hands up and down their lengths.

It just felt so good to be touched like that, causing them to let out satisfied groans.

Bradley bit his lower lip, holding back, yet his low guttural growl echoed through the car, followed by similar noises from the others.

While their cocks were being fondled with, they stroked their own chests again, and the tingling feeling entered their necks and minds.

All of them grew weaker, yet their strokes became firmer.

Their hands moved to an unseen and unheard rhythm, and all four cops were edging already.

It wouldn't take long for them to fulfill their duty.

"Serve. Cum and obey."

Miller's cock was the first to give in to the pressure. He shot load after load, covering not only Phillip's hands but their clothes with his precious, hot cum.

His moans filled the air, followed by Johnson, then Phillips. All of them were cumming simultaneously, and the smell of cum and sweat was undeniable.

With one final stroke, Bradley gave in to that tingling as well. As his cock erupted, his mind was drained of everything.

He couldn't think or speak; he just moaned again and again.

Bradley's beautiful eyes were vacant, unfocused, and dull, just like the others'.

With every load and every ounce of cum leaving their bodies, more and more of their will, their resilience, and their minds were drained. Replaced with only one thought.

Obedience.

They sat there for what felt like hours, but it was mere minutes.

The light turned off, and several shadowy figures approached the vehicle. They watched through the windows and found four cops—mere empty husks, empty and ready for further programming.

Their clothes were stained with sweat, cum, as they kept drooling as well.

The doors opened, and a young man, seemingly enjoying this sight very much, smirked.

"The first stage is complete." He said that and reached for Officer Bradley's chest, touching him and stroking him firmly, but the cop didn't react.

"Good boys." The man patted his chest and looked at four other men doing the same.

"Take them for further experiments." The man took a step back.

"Yes, sir." 

He watched four bulky men dressed in black leather pull those four cops out of the car—a sight to behold.

Their dicks were hanging out of their pants; all of them were covered in sweat and cum—a debilitating smell. Their eyes were empty, and even though they were thick, muscular men, they didn't fight back.

The officers were carried toward the other vehicle and out into the back.

With one last smile, the young man looked at them before closing the back doors.

[miloformula123fan]

Full fic??

I’ve read that Logan S. felt really lonely being the only American in F1. Like, he wasn’t completely accepted in the grid. Maybe he has an overprotective older sister who is a professional soccer player (like World Cup level good) who finally has time to attend his races. She dislikes most of the grid, except Alex and Oscar, for how they treated her brother. quick to defend Logan and even as far as annihilate them during the annual driver soccer match to prove a point. Im thinking G. Russel pairing due to Logan living in England. he wins her over by treating logan right, acknowledging he could have been welcoming, etc. Just a thought!

OKAY I HONESTLY LOVED THIS! IT WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE (let me know if you want a part 2, because it is a bit of an interesting ending haha)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

edit: i wrote part 2 - it is here

part 3 is here

George Russell x reader, logan sargeant x sister!reader

---

Y/N loves her brother, she really does. Yeah, she’s tried to get to a few of his F2 rounds, but with her soccer taking her around the world, she has had very little time. She has the entire month off though, so what better to do than visit her brother at his home grand prix. Miami is always a party, so maybe she could let loose for a bit, try and relax, and find a guy.

This is quickly vetoed when she finds Logan cooped up in his drivers room. While most people would think that he was excited for the race, most people weren’t Logan’s sister. She could tell he was thinking too hard about something, and it wasn’t good.

“Hey Logie Bear! Whatcha thinking about?” She tried to appear happy, but she could see that Logan’s smile did not reach his eyes

“Nothing, just excited for the race, the car is quick, just aiming for some points, hoping for a safety car. The garage is over there, sorry I have to warm up.” Y/N looked up as Benny entered the room and Logan stood up. She could tell how closed up he was, how he didn’t want to talk at all

“Okay, we’ll talk after the race Logan! Good luck, you'll smash it!” Y/N walked out of the drivers room towards the garage seeing the chaos of it.

Y/N watched as Logan apologised over again and again to his engineer for not making up any more places. She stood there listening to his engineer reassure her younger brother. She eventually decided that she couldn’t listen to it anymore and decided to wait in his garage room.

When he walked in, Y/N could tell he wasn’t sure whether to throw stuff or cry. 

“Hey, hey, come here! It’s okay, it’s okay!” She opened her arms and sat down as Logan fell down into them and hugged her baby brother, as he started talking the words just rushed out

“I just wanted to prove that I deserve to be here, feel like I’m a part of the paddock.” Logan hugged his sister back tightly, hesitating slightly.

“What do you mean? Of course you’re a part of the paddock, you’ve got your seat, y’know?” Y/N was confused as to what her brother meant, from what she had seen, he was welcomed warmly by everyone.

“Yeah but, I’m never invited to the grid parties, no one really ever talks to me, except Alex and Oscar, and Oscar is getting into the rest of the grid through Lando, and Alex is only really talking to me because I mean, he’s my teammate we have to be friends, and I just want everyone to like me… so I thought maybe if I got some points and good overtakes, then people would like me..”

“Oh, Logie… It’ll be okay. If they don’t like you then I think they’re just idiots, but they won’t. They’ll warm up to you, I promise.”

---

George watched as Y/N sprinted up and down. Okay the F1 team was never going to win, particularly when multiple women who were playing in the world cup were playing on the opposition team, but ���Sargeant’  (who also had the same name as the rookie driver this year, who was sitting in the stands) was dominating, she had more goals then all of the f1 team, so of course the celebrity team won 4-1. She’d almost immediately jumped into the stands once the referee blew the whistle and started talking to Logan, maybe the kid got married young and just didn’t want anyone to realise. 

Although she looked quite similar to Logan, so maybe his sister instead. Either way, she did not seem to like them, she called them all dickheads and shoved them over a few times. George’s knees were sore. But she was still pretty. So he approached Logan and the girl.

“Hello! I’m George and…’

“I’m pretty sure my brother knows your name, Georgie! Why don’t you say hello to him?”

“Y/N-”

“No. Say hi to Logan, George.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, almost forced.

“Hey Logan! Looking forward to the grand prix this weekend?”

“Uhhhh… yeah. ” He turned back to Y/N “I’ve got some stuff to do, so you can make your way back. See ya!”

As soon as Logan was out of listening range, Y/N pulled George in and started whispering, “Listen, I don’t know what problem you have my brother, but you need to get over it ASAP, understood?”

“I.. don’t have a problem with your brother.”

“Well, then why is he telling me that there have been 2 people, Oscar and Alex, who have actually welcomed him to F1. Everyone else has snubbed him and he doesn’t understand why you don’t like him. He’s lonely. So fucking sort your shit out.”

George stood there, mouth gaping as she stormed off to grab her bag and then sprinted after Logan. He could almost hear the f1 team laughing at his failed attempt at flirting, but all he could think about ‘was what she said true?’’

---

Y/N was going to cry.

She could see Logan in the family and friends box, hands over his mouth, eyes glassy.

That corner kick should’ve gone in, she thought, we had so many chances and we still fucked it all. Couldn’t even give Megs a proper farewell.

She walks slowly over to her younger brother and let his arms wrap around her

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Dragged you halfway ‘round the world when you should’ve been training only to lose the first game.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. Go pack up, we can head home and spend some time in London relaxing. I’ve got next week off before I need to be back in the factory.”

—

Y/N was awoken by a knock on the front door. Hearing Logan snoring from his bedroom, she got up off the couch, rubbing her eyes and opened the door.

Of all the people she was expecting to see, George Russell would’ve been just about the last on her list “Uhh, hey?”

“Oh, morning! Is your brother up?”

Y/n paused for a moment to let George hear the snores coming from Logan’s bedroom. “Yeah, no, sorry. I can pass on a message?”

“Oh, No I was just going to offer if he was still up to go on a morning jog with him, but as he isn’t…”

“You been doing this often?”

“Almost every week we’ve been in town. I don’t think he understands what or why I’m doing this. But, he’s a good kid, opens up a bit when you talk to him. He likes you, respects you a lot for 2 siblings pursuing their sport across the globe.”

“I’ll make some breakfast and you can stay til Logan wakes up, okay? As a thanks for looking out for him. Hard for me to do from across the globe.” Y/N looked tense, with an almost forced smile. She looked awkward, before stepping back, holding the door open so George could come in.

---

“LOGAN SARGEANT!”

“Hello, dear sister, what do you want?”

“YOU GOT POINTS!”

“I think you must have watched a different grand prix, I got P12.”

“Hamilton and Leclerc got disqualified, something about wood, but you got points!”

“OH MY! AHHH! I had no idea, oh god!”

“YEAH! MY LITTLE BRO FINALLY GETTING F1 POINTS! WOOHOO! We must celebrate when we’re both in town!”

“AHH! Shit, wait I think people are coming in, give me a sec.

You’re on speaker dear sis, Alex, Oscar and George are here.”

“HELLO OSCAR! HI ALEX! HI GEORGE! DID SOMEONE BRING CHAMPAGNE???”

---

Y/N looks at the buzzing phone on her bedside table. Well clearly she had grabbed Logan’s phone before bed last night. She looked at the contact name

‘George - probably calling about something from the GDPA.’

She picked up.

“Before you start talking, I’m not Logan and I have not signed any NDAs related to his contract so, don’t talk to me.”

“Hi Y/N, do you know where Logan is?” George’s voice was way too cheery for however fucking early it is right now.

“Yeah he’s in his bedroom, he grabbed my phone and I grabbed his, why?” Y/N swung her legs out of the bed and stood up, still rubbing her eyes.

“Oh, can you come answer the door?”

“The door, why?” Y/N got up, and walked to her front door and opened the door to …nothing.

“George, are you pulling a prank on me? There’s nothing at the door.”

“You haven’t opened the door!”

“George… Logan and I are in Florida for Christmas. I’m guessing you’re in London.”

“Oh…yes. Bugger. I came to congratulate him on his contract renewal and so now I’ve got food and flowers and stuff and he’s not here!”

“If you go round the block to 20 XXX Close, there’s a single mom there, who will appreciate some Christmas cheer Georgie.”

“Oh, thank you. I’ll send it over.”

“Why were you congratulating Logan, George? I didn’t think you cared. Only Alex and Oscar have reached out so far.”

“I..I remember what you said at the soccer match, about Logan feeling ostracised by all of us. So I’ve been trying to make him feel welcomed… not just because you said that, and I like you, but also because I kinda realised we’d all be failing him as a grid, so i thought if I started it, maybe others would catch on. It didn’t work, but I think he feels more included.”

“That’s very nice of you Georgie. I’ll pass on your congrats. Now it’s like 7am here, and I didn’t need to be awake today, so i will be heading back to bed. Night Georgie boy.”

[boyfhee]

✶ THINKING ABOUT. . . ft. lhs

g fluff w drinking ( he's drunk again ) wc 1.3k note for my darl @isoobie, all my hee works are for her anyway

heeseung doesn't have a high alcohol tolerance.

in fact, he doesn't have any— maybe a little bit— but mostly no, and yet still, he doesn't refuse whenever someone offers him a drink. you've been over this many times, telling him that drinking is not comparable to singing and continuing to drink probably won't improve his tolerance, though your effort is of no avail.

because if it were, you wouldn't have been standing inside a restaurant-bar at eleven pm, watching jay and jake trying to get a hold of an almost-passed-out heeseung, who, for some reason, smiles the moment you enter his currently blurry field of vision.

“we're sorry you had to come here this late again,” jake shoots you an apologetic smile, throwing one of heeseung's arms over his shoulder, making sure he doesn't fall because of the lack of sense of balance as jay was at the counter, making payments. “you know how he is, just wouldn't let us drive him back,”

which is another reason why you want him to stop drinking.

the first one being him wanting to only go back with you when he’s drunk out of his mind, pleading to you with the most irresistible pout to let him stay over at your place— it once dragged the two of you into a scandal. it’s worse since he refuses to let anyone else drive him back when he’s drunk off limits, only wanting you to pick him up even if it’s only to drop him at the dorms.

while being your best friend makes him one of your top priorities, it absolutely doesn't mean he can call you at the most ungodly hours and have you pick him up after heavy drinking sessions. and even if he does, he can at least try to be a little decent and cooperate instead of saying that you're the one who's drunk and he will drive you back to your place and even look after you for the rest of the night.

“heeseung, i don't think i'm the one who needs supervision today,” a sigh escapes your lips as you and the boys manage to get him in the back seat of your car.

“i will look after you so, don't worry,” his replies are followed by soft giggles.

then it goes quiet.

you steal a glance at him through the front-view mirror. heeseung is busy basking in the city noise and street lights. cold winds brush past the rosy dust on his cheeks, strands of purple hair dancing in the wind that make him look angelic, his ocean deep eyes telling a story of a million stars under the crescent moon, as if they're communicating in a language so foreign for the humankind to comprehend.

these are the moments when you realise that one could ask why you like heeseung, and you could give a thousand reasons why you're actually in love with him.

“we’re having another comeback,” he speaks above the blaring horns of vehicles. he’s telling you that for the ninth time— six times sober, three drunk, including this one.

“is that why you drank so much? to celebrate?” your chuckle resonates with a hint of sarcasm, words keeping up with him although, your mind is busy focusing on driving as you filter through the traffic. on other days, the roads would've been tamer, a little emptier. though, the weekends are not.

heeseung exhales heavily. “maybe,”

and it gets quiet once again.

you can hear him say a few things here and there, giggling about something amidst himself, his words too quiet to be coherent to your ears. you don’t quite remember when you and him got so close, to the point where he started calling you for help in every minor inconvenience instead of his brother. you were just a neighbour he bumped into around the dorms, voluntarily and willingly, and now you’re his best friend in just ten months.

“are you still thinking about the comeback?” the question leaves your mouth the moment you park in front of his dorms, holding the door open for him to get out of the car. “can i get a spoiler, or do you still remember the company guidelines even when you’re drunk?”

heeseung and you have been on opposite tracks ever since the day you met, and it doesn't even have to do with your zodiacs and personality— you can’t sing to save your life, while he earns off music— and, you don't know how you both got to a point where he's the person you trust blindly and you're the one he seeks for in the dead of the nights. it's something that comforts you while reminding you how you both have completely different worlds. perhaps, it's in the habits and insecurities that follow, or the simple realisation that heeseung is a star while you're just a planet revolving around.

there's a line between him and you that's stopping you from entering his world, and vice-versa.

“heeseung,” you call him again, putting an extra emphasis to get his head out of whatever comeback related thoughts he’s having, grabbing his arm to get him out of the car.

“i'm thinking about something else,” you scrunch up your nose when he speaks while practically reeking off alcohol. “i'm thinking about you,”

that’s not the first.

and then, he settles his eyes on you, one arm around your waist for support, fixating his gaze on you for a better look as if he has never seen you before. heeseung leans against your car, spending the next five minutes staring at you as you stare back at him with the same interest, or perhaps more, before he breaks into a soft giggle. “you're cute,”

that’s a first.

you don't want to overthink and assume a completely different meaning of his words, changing the trajectory of your relationship— which is actually what you want but, not this way— you decide to play along. “well, i believe i'm more than just cute for being the one to pick you up whenever you're wasted—”

“and pretty,” another first, and then follows a step that he takes towards you. “you're beautiful, smart and cute and. . .and did i tell you that you’re beautiful? i don't know what i'm saying,” a hiccup, his hand brushes against yours, it’s not an accident. he caresses your hand, looking at you with a flushed face and speaking with soft giggles, “i think i'm in love with you,”

“i think, you don't know what you're saying,” you interject with a chuckle, trying to put up a normal front while in reality, you're losing sense of everything because heeseung is confessing to you; and, it's both an honour and a shame because he is intoxicated at the moment.

“i don't,” he exhales.

heeseung falls quiet once again. there's dejection on his face along with hints of desperation to voice his exact feelings, to make sure you understand how he feels about you, and you know his words couldn't be clearer, but he is drunk. you know better than trusting saccharine words laced with the smell of alcohol, although you would've already kissed him if you were braver and he was sober.

“but i really love you,” he says again, chanting the same words to you as if those three words are the only thing that make sense right now. "we’re having a comeback,"

and heeseung also has a habit of talking pointlessly, repeating the same things over and over again when he’s drunk. another step towards, his hands brush against yours before he links his index finger with yours. you almost give in, almost, finding it hard to control yourself through the close proximity between him and you. you find yourself getting drunk on the alcohol in the breathe, or the way his lips are barely centimetres away from yours.

“i love you,” he repeats again, and you’re frozen in your stance, and he has no plans of backing out, you’re expecting him to bring up the comeback again, but he just presses his lips against yours before pulling back. “so please remind me if i forget any of this tomorrow,”

and then his lips are back on yours. 

[lavenderlacedquill]

Im begging for a Hannibal x fem pilot reader !

Him picking her up from the airport at ungodly hours but he still manages to fall in love w her

˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚ 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐬 ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

Pairing: Will Graham x Reader

Will Graham Masterlist <3

Navigation Page <3

✧˖°

Will is someone who is simply never going to let you take a cab home after a flight. He is always going to be waiting for you at security once you land and will take you both home. One, because often you do land late and driving through Wolf Trap at night is not the safest. And two, because he misses you when you're away.

Let's say you work in the aviation unit of the FBI (pretty badass, by the way) so, with you always coming and going from your shared home for several day/week stretches, this time together is absolutely cherished.

You're not even aware of your surroundings as you practically race off of your flight, only searching for Will in each passing body.

He stands clad in loose jeans and a comfy t-shirt just outside of the airport entrance, and despite the exhaustion very prevalent in your body, you immediately begin to run towards him.

He hears your quickened steps before he sees you, but once he does, the biggest smile breaks across his face, one that leaves that prevalent ache once it ceases.

His arms outstretch for you, you practically running through his chest as your own wrap around his middle. You can feel his fingers begin to comb through your knotted hair ever so slightly before he presses his stubbled cheek to the side of your face.

"God, I missed you."

His whispered confession nearly brings tears to your eyes, because it had been over a week since you two had been in the same room. Both of your respective jobs kept you plenty busy, but the distance was another layer.

But that isn't to be dwelled on now. This is your time.

Will's hold softens only slightly, enough for his lips to meet yours in a sweet, desperate, too long awaited kiss.

You breathe in the warm woodsy smell of his skin one last time before dropping your arms.

"Let's go home please. I miss our bed."

That's all he needs to grab ahold of your delicate hand within his own, your suitcase, and lead you to the car.

He buckles you up after loading the suitcase in the trunk, getting you set up with the pillow and blanket you always keep in the car for these nights.

His calloused palm meets your cheek, thumb carting over the slightly airplane-dried skin, and takes in your features for, what seemed to be, the first time in way too long.

Your lashes meet your cheeks as your tiredness begins to settle in heavily, but you smile at his affection and lean even further into his warmth, shifting only to press a kiss into his palm.

You're the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

"Get some rest, baby."

And with that, he closes your door and climbs into the drivers seat. Just as he pulls onto the highway, he feels you shift, your head landing on his shoulder, your face burrowed into the hollow of his neck.

You let out a quiet whine before getting settled, one saying you're too far, and you can feel Will let out a short, breathy laugh in return.

His lips meet the top of your head briefly before returning his attention back to the road.

"I'm not going anywhere. We'll be home soon"

✧˖°

The gif I used is from Pinterest, so please click here to get its original link. I am new to using Gifs on Tumblr and crediting their creators, so advice is welcome :)

My requests are also open! Send me any and all Will Graham thoughts, just pretty please read my guidelines first :)

[kids-worldfun]

How Child Seats Protect Children in the Event of an Accident

As a parent who will be driving around with their children in their car, it is vital to put measures in place to protect your child in case of an accident. You must take the necessary steps and choose a safety seat for your child if you want to keep them safe and prevent them from getting fatally injured if an accident occurs. In this context, the best form of precaution is a car seat, as it is…

[russellsppttemplates]

It's time I take a stepback (Mick Schumacher)

Becoming parents of three makes you and Mick wonder if a change in the routine is the best option

Note: english is not my first language. I'm a sucker for dad!driver as I've said before, so here's another piece!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: pregnancy

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"So no more work for me?", you frowned. For all you knew, this was going to be a regular check up with your OB, but it didn't seem like the ones you had been in before.

"It's my advice, yes", she noted, "even though your last pregnancies were fine, and we are expecting this one to be, too, its better to be safe. The guidelines we have for people your age and with these numbers suggest that, whenever it is possible, you should rest more towards the end of the pregnancy". As she typed what you assumed your leave on the computer, your husband grabbed your hand in his, resting it on your thigh, squeezing it lightly.

"Should we keep an eye out for anything?", Mick questioned, "the usual signs, really. I know it's only busier now since you have your two little ones at home, but resting as much as possible while still keeping active, drinking loads of water and good eating. If there is anything suspicious, you can just call me or text me", she smiled, handing you the copy and getting up, "thank you so much, have a nice day", you managed to say.

The walk back to the car was done in silence, Mick closing the door on your side before getting to the driver's seat, "whatever you want to say, you can say it now, liebling. I've been with your for a long time and I know when you are keeping something, and you know I won't judge your thoughts", he teased, finding his attempt at making you smile successful.

"What does she mean 'with people your age and numbers'? Was she calling me fat? Or old? Probably both of them", you grumbled, looking to see your husband in a fit of giggles, "Liebling, I'm sorry", he excused himself, "I don't think she meant it in that way, she's just looking out for you and our babygirl. And, fortunately, we can work with what she advised", he reasoned, "besides, Sebastian and Aurora will love the idea of having us around a little more now".

"Still think she called me old and fat", you mumbled, seeing one of your favourite bakeries, "Oh, Mick, can we go there, my love? A croissant would be really good right now", you pouted, smiling when he flickered on the turn signal, "I have the best husband in the world!".

On your way home, you stopped by your workplace, handing in the maternity leave and saying a "see you soon" to all your colleagues before you went to pick up the kids. Aurora couldn't hide her surprise when she saw both of her parents by the gate, "Hey, mama! Hey, papa! Why are you both here today?", she quizzed, holding her hands out so the three of you could walk side by side, "I'm going to take some time off work, so we can spend some more time together from now on", you said as you checked of she fastened her seatbelt properly once you got to the car, "and to rest, too, let's not forget that part", Mick chipped in.

It started raininh when you arrived at Sebastian's pre-school, so Mick grabbed an umbrella and left you and Aurora in the car. "You are okay, right, mama? You're staying home because you need to rest, that's all, right?", your oldest asked, looking into your eyes through the rear view mirror. Unbucklibg your seat belt, you moved around in the space you had so you could face her, "yes, Rora. I'm all good, there's nothing to worry about. Mama just needs rest, and it's always nice that we get to spend more time together, right?", you soother her worries, seeing Seb and Mick walk to the car, "uh-oh", your daughter said, "Sebastian just walked into a big water puddle", she pointed out. Chuckling at your little boy's antics as his father picked him up, you couldn't help but shake your head, "see? It's always nice to have more hands on deck".

"Hi mama! Hi, Rora!", Sebastian greeted, pressing a sloppy kiss on his sister's cheek, "how are you and baby sister?", he asked, "we're doing good, my love. And how was your day?", you asked, fastening your belt again while Mick drove home, "it was good! But now my feet are wet, I have to change when I get home".

While Mick took care of dinner with Seb's help, you helped Aurora with her homework, coming out of her bedroom when Sebastian called, "Mama, Rora!", he yelled as he walked inside after knocking on the door, "Papa and I made lasagna! It's not as good as Oma's, but it's pretty close!", he smiled proudly at their achievement, holding your hand as he helped you down the stairs.

"I hope you didn't start eating without us", Sebastian threatened, "of course we didn't, we know mama takes a little longer on the stairs now", Aurora reasoned, tapping your baby bump cutely as she went around you to sit at the table, "I want that crispy bit, please".

The bedtime routine went smoothly as you both read stories to Aurora and Sebastian, kissing their foreheads goodnight, "I'm so tired I feel like I could sleep right here", you chuckled, arranging the pillows on the sofa.

"Do you want to go back upstairs? I can finish this here quickly and I'll join you in a bit", Mick offered, seeing you contemplate, "you really don't mind?", you squinted, "no, I don't. Go upstairs, beautiful", he added, kissing your lips as he ushered you up the stairs.

As much as you didn't like to admit it, this pregnancy was taking a big toll on you. You had two kids that despite being pretty good and calm still required your attention and energy, and as you approached the third trimester, you started to feel that the mandated rest from your doctor was actually a good decision.

"Oh, you're in bed already?", Mick asked when he closed the bedroom door, seeing you tucked in bed. He quickly did his nighttime routine, grabbing the bottle of oil on his way so he could sit next to you.

"Hi, baby girl", he began, taking the cap off and depositing some on your bump, "you're going to be a lot calmer, we hope, since mama is taking some time off", he kissed your belly button, "we are all going to do something to help her and make sure she doesn't run herself ragged".

"And what is papa going to do? Everytime mama looks at him, she gets even more flustered", you ran your fingers through his hair, teasing him slightly and not expecting his answer, "well, papa had been thinking about retiring", he gulped, looking up at you as his hands continued the ministrations on your skin.

"What?", you fixed your position, sitting properly against the headboard so you could face your husband, "where's this coming from?".

"It's not new, before you think this is because of today's appointment", Mick began, "I've been thinking about retiring so I can be home for you and the kids. With Rora, it was the first time so we managed it, and with Seb we just winged it and went along, but three kids? It's a whole different experience. I can tell that it's a lot more tiring, and while some things get easier because of experience, I wouldn't want you to have to manage three kids on your own", he explained.

"And you'd just leave motorsport? You would stop racing?", you asked, unsure of you were getting his point.

"Yes. I have won championships, I've raced competitively to my heart's content. I have a career that I'm proud of, that I'd like to tell my children about when they grow older. And I also want to spend more time with them, with you. I want to be able to help and be more present in their lives", he reasoned.

"You are present in their lives, Mick", you reasoned, "I know, liebling. But retiring would mean that I'm almost always here, and I want that", he rubbed his thumb on your hand, smoothing the skin, "I've spoken to Toto, and the team are okay with waiting a little bit. They have plans for either way, so it's just a matter of my decision, of our decision".

"You've given this some thought", you mumbled, "and no matter where this goes, my position is the same. As long as it makes you happy, we will be here to support you", you smiled, grabbing his hand and kissing it before placing it back in your bump, playing with his fingers, "I would never want you to give up something that you love so much, but if you want to do it, then me, Rora, Seb and Harriet are going to be here for you", you smiled.

"Thank you, liebling", he kissed your lips, "I love you. Also", he pointed out, "Harriet, hm?".

"I've been thinking about names and Harriet came up. Just trying it out and see how it flows, you know?", you cuddled him, kissing his chest, "I love you so much, Mick".

.

Arriving at home, Mick helped Aurora and Sebastian out of the car before they walked up to the living room together, "when I left them here to go and pick you up from Oma's, Harriet was still asleep, so we have to keep quiet, okay?", he checked, seeing the kids nod as he opened the door.

"Can we come in? I have an excited big sister and big brother here", Mick said as they walked inside. Aurora held her brother's hand in hers, urging him to go in front of her, "go, you can do this", she whispered on his ear.

The small encouragement didn't go unnoticed by you and Mick, deciding to comment on it later, "she was just asleep but she woke up, I guess she's very excited to meet you two", you smiled, arranging the pillows so both kids could sit on either side of you while they peeked at their baby sister, Mick crouching in front of you, "can I give her a kiss, mama?", your son asked, carefully kissing his sister's cheek when you nodded. The baby made a noise that caught him off guard, "Oh, she didn't like it?", he pouted, tears welling in his eyes.

Quickly, Mick caught on the moment, "no, Seb, none of that. She just didn't expect it, maybe. You know when me and mama go to your room to wake you up? You don't like it a lot, right? It's almost the same for Harriet, she wasn't counting on it, that's all", he encouraged, gesturing for his son to try again, this time seeing Aurora do the same as the baby sighed in content, "see? She's happy now, she loves those kisses", Mick finished, looking up and seeing you with teary eyes.

"It's our family, let me cry all I want", you sniffed, "they're happy tears anyway", you announced, kissing all of the children's foreheads before puckering your lips to kiss your husband's.

Later, Mick found himself feeding Harriet while you played with Aurora and Sebastian. He hadn't been home for long, but he could see how you were juggling it. You were still recovering from giving birth, but like he had predicted, three kids was a lot. His mother had stopped by for dinner, taking control of the kitchen as she baked one of her roasts.

"Thank you for this", he said to Corinna, "I don't know how you two have managed this when I wasn't here", he admitted.

"We found it in ourselves", Corinna began, "and she also spoke to me about your plans, or the option that is on the table, I guess", she clarified, wanting to hear more about it from her son.

"I feel accomplished in my career, for now at least. And I want to be involved in their lives. I never felt like dad was not involved because he always made the effort, and I want to do the same. And I want to be there when they wake up, to get them from school, and three kids requires a lot more juggling. I don't want Y/N to have to do all of that juggling, or to stop chasing her dreams because of motherhold", he reasoned, "we're in this together, and I think it's time I take a stepback".

"Corinna, they are asking for you. I may be biased, but they have some pretty cute drawings to show you. Ambiguous when it comes to what they represent, but cute nonetheless", you smiled, seeing your mother in-law wipe her hands on the kitchen towell and heading to the living room where you just were.

"Hi, little bug", you cooed, seeing Harriet resting happily in her father's chest, "you just found the comfiest spot ever, didn't you? I have to share it with three of you now".

"It's a good thing that I'll be here more often then", Mick stated, kissing the top of her head and moving to kiss yours too.

"Are you sure about that?", you asked, looking for any uncertainty in his eyes. You had known him all your life, so it wasn't hard to look for the light fog in his eyes or his nervous eyebrow twitch. But you were met instead with a peaceful expression, eyes glossy and happy. "I'm sure, liebling. I spoke to Toto this morning and I'm retiring. I want to be here with you", he confirmed, feeling your arms wrap around his torso, "I'm so proud of you, Mick, we all are. And I bet the kids will love having your around even more".

"Are you saying their mother won't love having me around more?", he teased, smirking at you, "Oh, as soon as this is all working, their mother knows exactly what to do with that time".

[tokyo-chainsaw-dragon2]

Metal Gear rising Raiden x bratty sensitive fem reader smut!

Reader has been quite bratty lately like whining about Raiden not buying anything that reader asks for talking back to him an another stuff and when Raiden says no reader start crying 😭🙏

Thank you if you do this request♡✩

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𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 (𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈)

A/N: Thank you for your request! I do hope that you enjoy this smut, despite the long wait comrade (sorry for the long wait). Feel free to request anytime. :D

Requested by: nutter-butter101 ★

Pairing: MGR!Raiden x Bratty!Sensitive!Fem!Reader

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: ~𝟏𝒌 | Guidelines

⚠️CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ Minors DNI, NSFW, pussy eating, unprotected sex, overstimulation, slight BDSM, dirty talk, cussing involved

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It was four months after you became Raiden's girlfriend that your attitude towards him drastically changed. You went from being the sweetest living person that would never hurt a fly to a sensitive bitch that only follows the "I'll buy you something if you stop crying" stereotype. This was definitely pissing Raiden off the most and this was one of those days where he wasn't having it.

The whole time you were in a perfume store, Raiden had to stay a couple feet away from it. 20 minutes go by rather fast and you emerge out of the store. Raiden irritantly sighed and mumbled under his breath "finally" as he ran his clawed hand down his face. You look up at your 80% cyborg boyfriend, holding a small bottle of body spray that was no more than 35mL.

"Can I buy this, pleaseeeee?", you continue to look up at the cyborg, giving him the puppy eyes.

He looks down at you with an irritated look, crossing his arms. "How much is it", Raiden says coldly, dreading the fact that he had to be dragged along.

"About... Uhmm..." You swallow, turning the bottle upside down to glance at the price tag. "700...", you mumble quietly under your breath, extremely hoping that he didn't hear it.

You were extremely wrong. Raiden did, in fact, hear the price tag for just a 35mL bottle of raspberry rosé scented body spray. His eyes widened in shock but immediately turned to a fiery rage. Not even caring about if he made a scene, he was done keeping himself quiet about your obnoxious money spending with his credit card and falling for your tricks to manipulate him.

After that 15 minute yelling match, you put the perfume back where you found it. Once you returned empty handed, Raiden snagged your wrist, dragging you to the car with windows that were the darkest tint possible. You sat in the back seat, looking out the window as a couple tears rolled down your cheeks. It was dead quiet the whole ride back.

Once you both got back to the apartment, however, Raiden's mood had a different appeal on you. He asked you to go lay on the bed you both shared, on top of the covers and completely naked. You did as you were told, waiting to see what Raiden was going to do next. A few minutes passed and you were starting to get cold from the air conditioning, especially your nipples and pussy. You were about to whimper from the cold when the bedroom door was suddenly kicked closed.

You didn't understand what Raiden's deal was, let alone the fact that your day changed from both of you arguing in front of a luxury fragrance store to you now laying on the bed naked. The clank of metallic feet on the hardwood floor was softened by carpet, followed by the swinging jingle of two pairs of handcuffs. You whimpered after hearing the noise as you were getting cold.

Raiden smirks, climbing on top of and starting down at you with that single light gray eye of his. He runs a clawed finger lightly down the side of your face before engulfing your mouth with his own, at least trying to. He starts fiddling with the cuffs, getting them on your wrists and attached to the bedframe as he kisses you.

"Shhhhhh... Be quiet, Y/N...", he whispers to you inbetween kisses, finishing up the cuff for your right arm. "If you behave you'll get a treat."

Luckily for him, you were good at following orders, which only applied for bedroom and showering sex. Raiden pulls away, moving himself down to your awaiting cunt. His warm, wet tongue glided across your pussy, traveling down your labia, licking at your entrance, then flicking back up to your clit. You shivered as he shoved his tongue into your pussy, still needing to get used to his titanium jaw touching the vulnerable bud. Raiden does, however, mumble something about you being a parasitic bitch.

You didn't know if you should've taken it as a compliment, an insult, or if it was just him enjoying himself. Either way, you still succumbed to it.

Raiden growled low as his tongue plunged even deeper, sending vibrations straight through your core. The bridge of his nose rubbed on your clit making you want to roll your hips forward just to get a little more friction on it.

The grunts and groans he made while devouring you were almost as loud as your own, you wondered how he hadn't drowned yet without stopping to breathe for even a second. It was possible he was enjoying this even more than you were, you wanted to look down and see but instead kept looking at the ceiling hoping to hide the embarrassing faces you might make in the heat of pleasure.

Raien kept going at his electric pace, making your body go stiff as you twitched around him. Your mind went blank, your vision blurred while you lost what little control of your body that you had left.

Even after you came that wasn't enough to stop him, your exhausted body still spasmed while Raiden drank up every drop that dribbled out of your overstimulated pussy. When you found that you could breathe again all that would come out of your mouth was shameless moans.

He placed firm feverish kisses all the way back up your torso to your face, letting his hands roam wildly like touching you was going to charge his batteries somehow. Not even caring about the little scratches Raiden would leave when he roughly grabbed at your body, just perfectly content in letting him use you to sate his appetite.

Turns out, you behaved and got your treat.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Someone New 7

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

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: I am queuing this so who knows if Im still suffering.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The morning is going splendid. You spilled your coffee and the tea you packed in a thermos, you left on your counter. The realisation doesn’t hit you until you pull up to the site. You huff and hang your head, gripping the steering wheel as you brace yourself for your caffeine withdrawal. 

At least it’s dry. Mostly. As Thor forecast, the rain didn’t come until the night. The steady patter kept you awake, along with that lingering displacement that never quite leaves you. Fatigue is another constant. Your new normal; sleepless nights and sleepy days. 

You get out and set to work. It’s all you can do. It’s all you’ve been doing. Just keep going. It doesn’t matter how, just get it done, get through the day. 

You yawn at your task, brushing digging, oh so gently wiggling the little form. It’s almost out. Almost free. In your eagerness for some progress, you get careless. Your hand slips and the spearhead grazes our palm. Is isn’t until the stinging splits your skin that you realise it’s a slash. 

Damn it, you didn’t put your damned gloves on. 

Great, with the luck you’re having, you’ve just contracted some ancient virus. You hiss and grip your wrist. Your adrenaline triggers your heart. You take a few breaths to stay calm as you watch the blood bead to the surface. 

You curse and stagger to your feet. You grab the rag from your back pocket and clutch it in your injured hand. You grip it tight as you cross the site, careful not to tread to heavily, and you angle the fencing to sidle between two panels.  

You clumsily pull open the car door and reach under the seat. You always keep an emergency with you. It’s a rule of thumb for your sort of work. You never know what might happen. Bug spray, sunscreen, bandages, swabs, a hole trove of supplies. 

You shake as the pain intensifies, thrumming through your palm. You come out and rest the plastic tote on the hood and sift through with your single hand. This is going to be awkward as hell. While you enjoy your solitary, it can sometimes be unsettling. What if something worse happened? 

“Ruff, ruff, rrrrruffffff,” the growlish yet high-pitched barking comes from up the mountain road. 

You pause as he peek under the rag and peer up as gravel mulches. Another visit? Your work is so boring, you wouldn’t expect him again. Thor appears as Thunder hops before him, spastic as she sniffs the ground in circles. He smiles and waves but you can only manage a grimace before you look back to your wound. 

“Morning,” he booms as he scoops up the small dog and nears the other side of the car, “it’ll be a sunny one.” 

“You sure?” You look up at the greyish blue skies, than at him. Hm, the hue of above is rather similar to his eyes.  

“I know so,” he assures you and tilts his head curiously, “why are you so grim?” 

You show him your hand as you lift the cloth from it. He lets out a sympathetic hum and sets Thunder on the ground. She runs over to inspect the fence as he rounds the hood towards you. As he gets closer, his size is even more obvious. He’s well-built, you can see it even at a distance, but up close and personal, he’s almost inhuman in stature. 

“Yikes,” he offers his hand, “may I?” 

“Really, it’s not—I can handle it.” 

“I’m certain you can. Only the bravest woman would come to these grey lands and sit alone in the dirt,” he jokes. “Please, it’ll be easier with two hands.” 

You relent, a tinge of embarrassment hot in your cheeks, and peel the rag away. You hold your hand out to him and he brings one of his large ones to cradle it. Wow. He’s massive. The difference in your hands is startling. 

“Nasty cut,” he muses as he reaches over for the swabs you’ve piled out on the metal, “but it shouldn’t need more than a snug wrap.” 

“Thanks,” you look away, eyeing the dirt as his proximity makes you squirm.  

You can’t remember the last time a man touched you, especially a handsome one. Well, aside from Sam and Bucky but those were just hugs and usually ended in them arguing anyway. You’ve never been the most popular girl in the world and those men you managed to reel in didn’t stay on the hook very long. You never really tried to keep them. You were always too distracted. 

You wince as he wipes the cut with the alcoholic cloth. He softens his touch but holds your hand firm from beneath. He offers a rumbling apology as he focuses on tending to you. His intent is new to you. The way he looks at your palm holds more than any look you’ve ever gotten from a man. Or anyone. 

He crumples up the used wipe and takes another. He’s thorough. You feel a shiver roll through you despite the warmth in the air. He trades the wipe for the roll of gauze and wraps the strip around your hand, hooking over your thumb and looping your wrist. He uses the little metal clip to pin it then turns your hand over, brushing his own over it as he grins. 

“Good as new,” he announces, “though I recommend you not use it too much. And perhaps a pair of gloves.” 

“Yeah, I forgot. Long day.” 

“It’s nine in the morning?” He chuckles. 

“Yep,” you agree dryly. 

“Hopefully it gets better,” he says. 

“Yeah, maybe,” you agree dully and toss the things back in the tote.  

He picks it up before you can and keeps it from your reach, “like I said, you should take it easy.” 

“Well, there’s work to be done,” you say as he moves to the open door and slides the tote inside. “What are you doing back here?” 

“Ah, I let the queen lead the way,” he stands straight and closes the car door. He looks past you and your head perks up. Thunder is very quiet. “As ever, she does not tread with caution.” 

You turn to find the chihuahua inside the fence. You jump in place and sprint over, clattering between the panels as you call after her. “No, no, sweetie, be careful!” 

You chase her around where you were digging as you sense Thor watching from without. Great! You hope she didn’t pee anywhere. 

A sharp whistle pierces the air and Thunder stops. She sits in place, still wiggling, but doesn’t move. You peek back at Thor and he nods. You near her and pick her up. 

“Sorry about her, she is a free spirit,” he tuts as you cross back to him. “I will be certain she does not stray again. My apologies.” 

You’re taken aback by his sincerity. You try to remember the last time someone apologised to you and sounded like they meant it. Hell, when’s the last time you even got an apology. You dip out between the grating and hold out the dog. 

“I would hate to get in your way any more than we already have,” he hugs her with one arm and spreads his other hand over his chest, “we will be on our way. I do hope the sunshine brings some brightness to your day.” 

“Um, thanks,” you shift on your feet and hide your twiddling fingers. “You too.” 

“I’ve already found my sunlight,” he grins even wider and blinks, “now, Thunder, let’s go make a storm somewhere else.” He twists on his heel and lumbers off, “perhaps mother might put up with you for a time.” 

You stand just outside the fence and watch him go. A lock of his golden hair hangs loosely form his bun, dangling down his back, wagging almost like the dog’s little tail. He bounds over the lumpy ground and disappears behind the rock face. You look down and smile. 

Not everything is so bad and you can see the amber ribbon limning the clouds. The sun will be there soon. Just like he promised. 

💟

Thor comes back again. 

It’s a week since you cut your hand. Like before, you can’t predict him. You don’t hear him approach as he’s alone. You only notice him as he clangs something on the fence and lets out an ‘oops’. You pop your head up and look over at him through squinting eyes. Your forehead hurts from the expression. 

You smooth out your face and stand, facing him. He wiggles a metal canister in his hand. The wind sweeps the strands around his square jaw as the sky pulses in shades of gray behind him. 

“Thought you might like some hot tea,” he holds up the thermos. 

“Oh, uh... you didn’t have to...” you look at the sky and its quivering blanket. You’ve been pondering packing up for the last hour. “Thanks.” 

“Not to worry, I was restless.” 

“And you always go walking through the mountains when you’re bored?” You wonder as you step around the markers in the dirt. 

“I live here, there isn’t very much else to do and it isn’t a good day for swimming.” 

“Swimming?” You nod and click your tongue. “Sounds like the life to me.” 

“Mm, it can be rather languid when there isn’t work to do,” he turns the thermos in his hands as he talks, “Have you tried cloudberry?” 

“Cloudberry? Never heard of it.” 

He pokes the thermos between the panels and you take it. He pushes the barrier back into place between you, hooking his fingers into the links. You feel the warmth through the copper-coloured metal. 

“You didn’t have to come all this way for tea,” you laugh. 

“I wanted to ask after your hand. See how it’s healing,” he says. 

“Oh, uh,” you open and close your gloved hand, “just a scab now. I’m all good.” 

He smiles and keeps himself from leaning to heavily as the fence dips towards you. He coughs and realigns his feet, brushing back the looses strands around his face with a flick. He pushes his shoulders back and drops his hand. 

“So uh, you should try the tea. I put together the herbs myself, steeped it...” he bounces on his heels, “I suppose it’s not that impressive but it is good. Antioxidants, anti-inflammatory.” 

“Wow, sounds like one of those superfoods,” you scoffs as you pull of your glove and tuck it into your work belt. You untwist the cap and steam wisps out. You smell the tea and blow over it. You look up and find him watching you. “You’re starting to make me nervous, what’s in it?” 

“Just tea,” he assures. “I can’t lie to you, though. It wasn’t my idea. My mother suggested it. She’s very interested to see what you’re digging up but I’m afraid she can’t do much at the moment.” 

“Oh, your mother? Is she sick?” 

“She is in perfect health aside from her dislocated knee. She went rock climbing and well, accidents happen, eh?” 

“Yeah, sure do,” you show him your cut. “But they get better.” 

A lull rises as you take a dainty sip. The tartness tweaks your cheeks and you scrunch up your nose. 

“You don’t like it?” 

“It’s... different but not bad,” you say. “So, your parents live up here too?” 

“Mm, yes. I’m afraid I’m occupying their attic at the moment. I sold my home in Oslo, it was much too... cold.” 

You can’t help but snort, “it’s Norway.” 

“Ah, so it is. I should be used to it,” he agrees. “And how are you faring here? Have you adjusted to these dour lands?” 

“Eh, I’m trying,” you put the lid back on and turn it until tight. “Thanks for the tea.” 

“My pleasure,” he assures you. “Seems lonely work.” 

“I don’t mind it,” you shrug and cross your arms, tucking the thermos beneath one arm. 

“Interesting though. Have you found very much?” 

“Ugh, a spearhead and some pieces of the shaft. A vase, cracked though. Some beads.” 

“Beads,” he echoes thoughtfully, “is this all confidential?” 

“Not really, you wanna see?” 

“Very much so,” he says. 

“Right, uh, let me just...” 

You go back to where you were sat and plant the thermos in the dirt. You scurry around, overly aware of his observation, and go to the pin of your catalogued items. You find the bone beads and brings the little dish of them over to the fence. You hold them up as he peers between the links. 

“They have runes,” he intones. 

“Yeah, I’ve got the meaning of all of them except, er...” you pull out the single bead made of jade, “this one.” 

He hums and considers it closely, leaning in. 

“Not a rune. That’s a family symbol.” 

“Oh?” 

“My family’s.” 

“Wow, uh,” you lower your chin, “that’s... I... kinda feel like a thief.” 

“Can’t have cared very much about it if it’s down there,” he remarks, “you know, my father has mapped out much of our genealogy. As much as he can. He might be able to assist with your research, if he can find the time. Bit of a hermit these days.” 

“Oh, uh maybe, I’d hate to bother,” you smile sheepishly, “erm...” you look around, “where’s Thunder? Awful quiet without her.” 

“She’s keeping mother company. I’ve told her not to be too much of an imp, can’t have her making it worse,” he shakes his head. “The two of them are both stubborn as the other.” 

You can’t help the twitch in your eye. All this talk of your family has you suddenly homesick. You fight not to crack and swallow tightly. 

“Anyway, thanks again for the tea.” 

“Your parents must miss you,” he says abruptly. 

“Erm, yeah, my mom calls now and then but she’s better as an empty nester. Dad’s got his head under a hood most days so...” 

“Friends? Boyfriend?” He wonders. 

You arch a brow. He’s not very subtle and yet his inquiry can’t be anything but innocent, right? You’re still strangers. He can’t be into you. Not someone who looks like him. How long did you pray for Steve to even see you like that? This man is definitely not going to. 

“Friends. Sam likes to pester me when I should be sleeping and Bucky... they’re funny.” You sniff and gaze past him. You won’t mention that giant elephant in your head. The one you think about at night. 

“Lots to miss back home, it sounds like,” he breaks the silence before it can settle. 

“Yeah, but not every day you get to travel.” 

“And to a beautiful land,” Thor declares, “I hope one day you’ll come out of the dirt and see more of it. You’ll be surprised what lays further up the mountain.” 

You smile and look down, “yeah, maybe one day.” 

“Until then,” he backs up on his heel, “I won’t distract you any further. Enjoy your tea.” He turns and strides away, pausing halfway as you linger by the fence, “the rain will be here around five so I would leave early, otherwise you’ll be driving through it.” 

“Right,” your chest deflates just a little. You don’t know what you wanted him to say but you’re disappointed, “thanks.” 

[loveinhawkins]

prompt from @teaspelledbackwards-blog: something featuring sick Steve being taken care of. prompt guidelines

It’s almost like a culture shock, adjusting to normality after everything is over: to not have to leap in front of others with arms outstretched, his whole body tightly coiled; to not have to always be ready to fight.

And most of all, to no longer need to worry about the big, life-threatening things. Even back then, Steve felt like he’d had a lucky escape compared to everything else they were dealing with—sure his bites still stung, but they were only in borderline need of medical attention.

“Borderline?” Eddie had wheezed through the high of morphine when Steve relayed this. “God help us for what your ‘real emergency’ looks like, Harrington.”

So when it’s just a run-of-the-mill day, and Steve’s head is pounding, but it’s not that bad, he powers through. It’s not like it’s pneumonia or anything; it’s not like he’s dying. It just mildly sucks. Well. Maybe more than mildly, but the point still stands.

He doesn’t really think anything of it, until suddenly Robin is pinning him with a shrewd look right in the middle of their shift, eyes briefly narrowing in a way that kinda reminds him of Mary Poppins—if she’d thrown away the nanny career in favour of putting ‘new in’ stickers on VHS titles.

“Let’s swap,” she says authoritatively. “You take your break now, I’ll take mine later, then I can do the closing shift instead.”

“Um, sure, if you—why?”

“You don’t know all the intricacies of my life, Steve! Maybe I need an empty store to practise for my secret opera star dreams. Maybe I’m having a clandestine affair by the light of the shitty computer. Don’t question me.”

She whirls him round and gently taps in between his shoulder blades, pushing him in the direction of the backroom.

He snorts. “All right, all right.”

It’s only when he’s actually stretching out on the threadbare couch that he realises she’d gotten him to distractedly agree while she joked around.

Then it’s like he blinks, and he sleeps right through his thirty minute break. It’s technically forty five minutes by the time he wakes and gets up. He pushes his knuckle briefly against the bridge of his nose as he heads back to the counter, but the ache still remains.

Robin doesn’t make one crack about Steve’s break running over. She doesn’t even take her own break until there’s no-one in the store, dealing with any of their especially annoying customers herself, including that old man who always insists on having a tangential rant about “kids these days.”

(She’d slid a note over to him halfway through said rant, a scribble in Pig Latin: ‘illkay emay.’ Ducking under the counter to stifle his laughter was a nice temporary distraction from his headache.)

When she does come back from her break, she tosses Steve his jacket and car keys.

Steve stops by the half-open door, stares her down. “Are you sure? I can—”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, go. The literal only plan I had was watching a rerun of Headline Chasers with my dad.”

“But.” He clears his throat, and Robin’s grinning, he knows she’s only teasing, and yet… “But you love Headline Chasers.”

She softens, then sticks out her tongue before replying, “I know.”

And it sounds like I love you more, dingus.

-

He plans to drive straight home, but then he sees Dustin biking into the parking lot, and he stops mid-reverse, winding down his window.

“Thought you were closing?” Dustin says.

“Yeah, I was. Robin swapped with me.”

Dustin hops off his bike, looks Steve up and down. “If I’m, like, five minutes, could you give me a ride home?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. He can count the number of times Dustin’s actually asked that on one hand, used to finding him already in the passenger seat, waiting expectantly.

He shrugs. “Sure. I’ll fit your bike in the trunk.”

True to his word, Dustin is in and out of Family Video in barely even three minutes. Steve smiles when he spots that he’s rented out The NeverEnding Story again.

“Dude, just buy it at this point.”

“But then I won’t get the excellent customer service on offer, Steve.”

“What, Robin insulting you?”

It’s an unusually quiet but not unpleasant car ride. Steve doesn’t risk putting the radio on, the pain travelling until it’s a persistent band of pressure across his forehead, and Dustin, strangely enough, doesn’t complain about the lack of music.

By the time he pulls up to Dustin’s house, it feels like his bones are aching, his skin prickling and sensitive. He tries to suppress a wince as he parks, briefly rubs at one eye.

“Hey, Dustin, do you mind if I don’t—” He falters, not sure how to politely put, Normally I love chatting with your mom, but if I delay getting home any longer, I might scream.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dustin says, already getting out of the car. “Stay there, just a sec!”

And instead of slamming the door as per usual, he gently closes it.

Steve only just resists leaning his head on the steering wheel.

Then Dustin is running out of the house, carrying… Tupperware?

“Mom was baking,” he says when Steve rolls down the window again.

“Oh,” Steve says, taking the box, glancing down to see some chocolate cake. “Thanks, man. I should, uh.” He makes to undo his seatbelt, but Dustin waves him off.

“You’ve thanked her, like, a bunch of times, if you do it anymore she’s gonna ask why I’m not a gentleman like you.”

Before Steve can respond, Dustin’s already at his front door, waving as he shuts it and calling out a casual, “Feel better, Steve!”

But how do you…?

-

Steve knows that Eddie’s in his house by the way that the front mat has been left curled up at the corner from where he’s retrieved the spare key.

He opens the door, sighs in relief at the warmth hitting his skin; Eddie must’ve put the heating on.

“You’re being robbed!” is what he’s greeted with, and Steve chuckles, follows Eddie’s voice to the kitchen, and…

He stops in the doorway.

“You made me dinner,” he says, almost numbly.

Eddie looks over at him from where he’s boiling water on the stove, a jar of pasta sauce by his elbow.

“That’s a kind word for it, but okay.”

“You made me dinner,” Steve repeats, and he has to blink rapidly before he does something stupid like tear up. “Why are you even—did we have plans? Did I forget—”

Eddie smiles warmly at him. “Nah, just passing through,” he says, then laughs when Steve tilts his head, unconvinced. “All right, fine. I might have got a phone call. Actually, two: Buckley got there first, and then Henderson called, gave me shit about the line being engaged, he’s so—”

“You didn’t need to make me dinner,” Steve interrupts. He doesn’t exactly know why it’s this that he’s getting stuck on, but he can’t help it. “I could’ve made dinner.”

Eddie’s smile shifts, turns into something so obviously caring that Steve feels his eyes threaten to burn all over again.

“But I wanted to,” he says. He leans against the counter, eyes flickering over Steve’s face, a gentle kind of surveying. “Besides, you’re not feeling great, right?”

“It’s nothing,” Steve says automatically. “Seriously, I don’t even have a fever. It’s not like I need to go to the doctors or…”

He trails off as Eddie gets closer, kisses him softly on the mouth, then the temple; and there must be a salve on his lips or something, because the awful sensitivity on Steve’s skin feels, just for a moment, like it’s been soothed away.

“Doesn’t need to be the worst thing ever for it to matter, Steve,” Eddie says simply.

Steve affects a huff—Eddie’s always coming out with lines just like that, says it’s the DM’s curse, darling—but he melts against Eddie anyway.

“You use the bow tie shapes?”

Eddie grins, nods triumphantly down at the pot. “Only the very best for you.”

Steve smiles into Eddie’s shoulder. “Dork.”

Tonight he’ll lie on the couch after dinner, Eddie reading with the lamp on low so that it doesn’t hurt his head; will drift off thinking of him, of Robin, of Dustin—knowing that the world doesn’t need to be ending for them to care.

[upat4amwiththemoon]

A possible mom's!Blackhill prompt

The reader has been secretly dating and doing vigilante work with Kate. Maria and Nat only think about she's sneaking out to see Kate. Because of that when she sneaks back into her room one night kind of beaten up they patch her up while lecturing her about dating and being safe while doing vigilante work.

Vigilante shit

Summary: Sneaking out to make out and beat bad people up.

Pairing: BlackHill x daughter!reader, Kate Bishop x female!reader

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 1154

a/n: BlackHill moms woo!

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

masterlists | guidelines

All parts: part 1, part 2

“My moms will kill me when they see all these bruises.” Y/N mumbles, studying her face from Kate’s car’s rear view mirror. She has cuts on her cheek and lip, and a clear black eye. Make up won’t hide these easily.

Kate cringes as she drives the car. “I’m sorry I pulled you into this.”

“It’s not your fault,” sighing, Y/N slumps to the passenger seat, “I wanted to do this with you.”

“Do you want me to come with you? I could clean your cuts.”

“As much as I’d love that, you know my mom would throw a fit if they saw you sneaking into my room, I haven’t told them we’re together yet.”

The car turns to Y/N’s home street. Kate bites her cheek, glancing at Y/N quickly. She knows she’s right. They don’t want to be seen together, especially now that Y/N is so clearly hurt. Her moms are incredibly protective. Daring in secret is one thing, but fighting against bad guys is a totally different thing. It’s something her moms disapprove of, knowing and having seen the danger in it.

Kate stops the car few houses away from Y/N’s. Natasha and Maria are both light sleepers, they would wake up if a car drove to their vicinity this late at night.

She turns to look at Y/N, who is takes off her seatbelt before grabbing her suit and other things. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll text you.” Y/N pecks Kate’s lips and hops out of the car. She waves to her with a smile on her face until she can’t see the car.

Taking a deep breath, she starts walking towards her house. Her whole body is hurting. They did win, but it took a while. And they got properly hurt during the fight. The enemy was just a bit above their skill level, not like that has ever stopped them before.

Y/N throws her bag into her back, freeing both of her hands so she can start climbing the escape ladder up to her room. She opens the unlocked window and gets inside, after that she closes the window and locks it. Turning around, she throws her bag to the floor. When she finally looks towards her door, she yelps, throwing her hand to her heart.

Natasha and Maria are standing there. Both having their arms crossed over their chest, looking mad, until they see the cuts and bruises. Then they go to immediate worry mode.

“What the hell happened to you?” Natasha is the first one to reach Y/N. She starts moving her head around to see the extent of her injuries, while Maria outs the overhead light on. “Did Kate do this to you?”

“What? Of course not! Wh- how’d you know I was with Kate?”

Maria raises her brows, getting the medical kit from the bathroom. They have one in every bathroom cabinet. “You really think you could keep you dating Kate a secret from us? You sneak off to see her almost every night.” She pushes Y/N to sit down on her bed. “Now, tell us where you got these.”

Her face turns warm. Of course they’d already know she and Kate are dating. “Wewerefightingbadguys.” She mumbles quietly.

“Speak up.” Natasha frowns, grabbing a cotton ball and putting some rubbing alcohol on it to clean the cuts on her face.

“We were fighting bad guys.” She mumbles, slightly louder this time.

Maria and Natasha pause their movements. They stare at Y/N. She isn’t sure if they look more worried or angry. “You what?” Natasha asks, her voice eerily calm. Y/N knows that’s the worst tone to hear from Natasha. The I’m so angry I’m calm tone.

“You’re fighting bad guys.” Maria states. “Just the two of you?” Y/N nods. “With what weapons?”

“Kate has her bow and arrows, I have knives. And combat.”

Natasha rubs her forehead, closing her eyes and letting out a heavy breath of air. “Do you understand how dangerous that is?” She goes back to leaning the cuts. “You could’ve gotten a lot more hurt than this.”

“I know, mom.” Y/N mumbles, plying with her fingers. Her posture is hunched as she looks down. “I’m sorry. We just wanted to help out and prove that we can do the job.”

“You do the job after you train for it. This doesn’t prove anything.” Maria has started butting bandages on the clean wounds. “Not telling us where you are or going to fight someone without backup is very reckless. That isn’t how the job works. What if you got kidnapped? Or too hurt to move, huh? What happens then? No one would know where you are.”

Y/N’s eyes start burning while she listens to her moms lecture her. She never meant to worry them. Truth to be told, she didn’t really think about the repercussions, or what could happen on one of their vigilante missions. “I’m sorry, I really am.” She whimpers.

Sighing, Natasha puts down the cotton ball once all the cuts are cleaned. She sits next to Y/N, pulling her into an embrace, careful not to touch any of the bruises. “The most important thing is that you’re okay, you’re alive.” She kisses the top of her head. “But you can’t do this anymore, not without telling us at least, okay?”

Y/N nods, leaning against her mother. Maria puts the med kit to the side, sitting to the other side of her. “And if you really want to do it properly one day, you have to seriously train for it, with professionals.”

“With you?” She smiles, looking at Maria.

She chuckles, wrapping her arm around Y/N’s back. “Yes, with us.”

“Now,” Natasha leans back to fully see Y/N’s face, “we need to talk about Kate.” She grins when Y/N looks down, her whole face burning up at the mention of her secret girlfriend. “Are you two being safe?”

“Ew, mom!” Y/N pushes Natasha, though she barely moves. “I’m not talking about that with you.”

“I am just saying. It’s important to be safe and have a good hygiene.”

“Make her stop.” Y/N turns to Maria, whining.

Maria laughs, messing up Y/N’s hair with her hand. “Okay, okay, we don’t need to talk about that. But we do need to talk with the two of you before you sneak off to anywhere.”

Y/N groans, flopping down to her bed. She covers her face with her hands. “Get out of my room.” She grumbles, getting even more embarrassed when her moms laugh at her reaction.

“Good night, lovely.” Natasha pats her leg before standing up.

Maria follows after her. “See you in the morning.” The door closes, leaving Y/N alone to her room. She rolls her eyes, but still has a smile on her face.

[simp-ly-writes]

Suits, Ties, and Thus Spies (pt.5)

Pairing: Spy!Task Force 141 x Handler!Reader

Summary: Will John make it out- will your team arrive in time for the mission? And with some unexpected guests to greet you in it all- they all bring forward memories you did best to hide away.

Warnings:4000~ words, light swearing, blood, highly suggestive scenes and trauma. A/N: are we having a good week? Masterlist | Taglist Request | edited.

Forced into the backseat of a black car you pound back on the door- begging for it to release you yet the sound of tires screeching against the pavement has your head filing back into the seat behind you as you slip to the other side without your seatbelt. You tug the band over your shoulder, snapping it at your waist as you feel the coldness of the glass against your face- watching as the city whips past.

Your heart drops for a second, realizing that you were leaving your car at the agency. A groan escapes you- just another reason to hate the people around you. Samantha was driving you to the airstrip as you looked at her with betrayal. Shaking your head and focusing in on a folder set with more information about your targets set in the seat in front of you. Reaching towards the folder, you slip through the various images, documents, and mission logs. Agent Beetle you had sent ahead of your arrival had already made great progress- tracking down members related to the kidnappers and a series of locations where the princess might be housed currently.

The car turns hastily as you curse out- wishing that you were in your own car about to fly your own plane yet management had to say otherwise after your inability to follow company guidelines… fuckers, is all you could think as yet another turn was taken. Samantha was driving like her ass was on fire and you couldn’t help but take down the divider to check and make sure. Gripping the wall as she sped down the now gravel road, she had a vice grip on the steering wheel, lights on bright as tree branches threatened the paint job. 

She takes a quick glance at you through the rear view mirror, shaking her head and eyes filled with tears yet never speaking a word as the car suddenly stops- a private jet awaiting your control as the door opens with an automatic release and you are being thrown out- the keys hitting your head leaving a dull ache. Stumbling up from the ground while dusting off your suit, she boards your luggage onto the plane before giving you a mocking salute. The dirt kisses your face as the tires grind into the earth- the car joining the setting sun in the distance.

Weighing the keys in your hand and looking around- you shrug and roll your shoulders before making your way inside. Much to your surprise, Ghost is already waiting for you inside. His long legs rest in the aisle as he leans back in the chair, absent-midedly staring up at the star-studded ceiling without acknowledging your appearance but based upon the twitch of his boot. He knew you were here. 

Giving him a playful wave hello, he nods his head once in acknowledgement before going through his own mission debrief resting on the chair beside him. The black-metal briefcase dazzling in the setting sun's rays. Ducking into the operations space, you ready yourself in the pilot's seat, flicking on the various lights as you warm up the engine. The plane roars to life as you set your headset on- testing communications to receive a very giggly Samantha in reply- trying to lighten the evening mood. 

You hear footsteps coming up the aisle as you turn around- expecting to see a skull-face on your own. Soaps and Gaz’s features meet your own with mutual surprise before they tackle you into a hug. Not thinking for a moment you return the gesture before the wheels turn lightly from underneath you all. Cursing out you stomp back on the brakes and turn back with a guilty smile as they laugh in reaction before settling themselves in for the flight. 

Your fingers tapped against the dash, there was only so much daylight left and you had to get wheels up in 10. Starting to pick at your nail polish once more- a frantic set of boots come to a fault by your side. You only find a back as you turn to face them as they move to operate the seat beside you. Confusion coats your features- unknowing of who lied on their report to be qualified in operating a plane. John smiles at you yet his eyes speak of unknown horrors that you acknowledge with a small sob escaping from your lips. 

A soft smile falls upon your own features, eyes welling over as you extend a hand, silently asking if he was alright. Taking your hand in his own- he offers a light squeeze before dropping it and settling into his own headset. Samantha cheers in both of your ears yet you both play no mind to her excitement. Price moves the microphone closer to his mouth, “Load of shit those trials were- the fuck- trauma they try and instil in you lot.” You can only chuckle out to his crude words breaking your cries as John takes control of the flying gear and starts the take off procedure as you dab off your eyes from the handkerchief of your suit. 

“Hello, this is your Captain Daniels and Price speaking, he is readying ourselves for take off. If all passengers could please strap themselves in and pour a drink- we have seven scheduled hours in the air for tonight.” You can distantly here Soap groan out as Gaz ever-so kindly asks him to, “Shut the fuck up.” Shaking your head at this interaction, Price cocks his head over to you- his own smile growing and the prior events of the day being set to the back of the stove. 

--

Clouds paint your peripheral vision as you take control of the flight. Price has fallen asleep beside you as you drift through the sky. Samantha had long fallen asleep at her desk as your mind wandered, wondering where Whitby had been sent, how Charlotte and Handler Jacobs wedding plans were going- she really did try and hide that engagement ring from a spy out of all people. Jason was probably messing around town for the night, celebrating being the only one in the organization who actually worked the nine to five as your external trainees were scheduled for space clearing the next morning. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Simon asks, taking the small seat behind you as he shook Price awake and overtook his seat, taking control of the plane as you rubbed your wrists- sore from the handling. “What are you doing up?” You reply with another question as he slowly turns his head to you. “Couldn’t sleep. I ask again, what's going on?” He pressures, eyes staring through the open airspace ahead of you both. 

“Work like any other time,” you reply with a yawn, “S’all I do.” “Well that's shit,” he responds in a blank tone that has you sitting upright. “Not really, I mean, it's a pretty great job minding all the strings attached,” you say, looking at the side of his mask. “But no vacation? No PTO?” he asks, legs shifting below as he revives word from a nearby communications tower to make a turn in response to an emergency flight coming near. 

“Nope,” you respond, popping the P sound as you start to close your eyes. “Vacation is drinking after hours and hooking up with whomever will forget about you in the morning.” 

“I’m sorry ‘bout that,” Simon responds with sincerity. “I mean… don’t you guys go through the same shit?” you ask, voice starting to become more gruff from the lack of sleep. He is silent for a few moments, picking the words as you open an eye- concern starting to raise as you thought to have crossed a line. Beginning to open your mouth to apologise he responds, “Yes… no. I mean… some of us do have people waiting at home for us… Gaz and Soap have an on and off girl- but at the end of the day, it's a job. You work your hours- get fucking bloody and wash it all off before heading to bed.” 

“That's the thing though… about jobs like ours, you never really wash it all out. Just what can’t be seen on the front…” your voice drifts off as you turn in your chair, trying to make yourself comfortable in the upright position. Ghost does not speak further, only humming yet that sound is all you need to understand he knows your words on a personal level. “Why be so personal now, Handler?” Ghost questions, the words slipping as part of him uses your tried physique to gain an answer. 

“I could ask the same to you, Agent,” you tease back, “....and maybe I am just doing my job in the end too, using everything I’ve got…” you fall asleep soon after, soft snores exiting your mouth as Ghost turns to look at you once with soft eyes before addressing Samantha's report request. His gruff tones are like honey on your ears, drifting you further into a dreamless abyss. 

--

You are shaken awake as the plane begins to descend. Price had retaken control as you swear out, pausing from asking if he wanted any assistance from the glare he sent towards you. “I let you sleep for a reason,” he responds through the headset as you stretch yourself awake and feel for your water bottle, taking a large drink. He speaks up once more, “we have no fucking clue what we are doing once we are out of the sky.” 

“Did they not give you all a report?” you question, body now more respondent. You watch as he shakes his head, the tires scratch under pressure as the plane jumps a handful of times before becoming stagnant on the arstrip. “Had us work to the location of the plane from an unknown location. We had to use Whitby and Charlotte as our handlers to find our way back to you- they said it was comms and finding training and as you can see- we all passed with flying colours.” Rolling your eyes you speak back, “Good to hear my sass is rolling off on you all.”

You listen to him chuckle before locking the plane for any further motions, he helps you up from your seat with a hand as you grace him with a thankful smile- embarrassed from your jelly-like legs. Soap, Simon, and Kyle are all waiting in a convertible, your bags stuffed into the trunk as you all drive into the city, the wind whipping through your hair, the sun beginning to rise against your face as you voice out directions from the passenger's seat. 

--

The private estate sits atop a cliff casting over the sea below. Its deep blue waters invite you into their depths as you lean over the balcony, listening to the waves chase their way up the rock face to only fall back into itself. Light summery pop songs play through the radio as you think about the cold weather back at home as you bask in as much sun you can- praying that you can maintain a tan as a cough sounds from behind you. Pivoting on your heel your eyes go wide to see a barely buttoned linens-shirt in front of your face. The light white material blowing with the breeze as their salmon shorts tease a smile from your lips. “Hello love,” Whitby responds while pulling you into a hug. 

“Do you even work anymore?” you question out to the man, “I-mean. You were scheduled to be with the Americans this week- what changed?” “Solved it online, a few late nights of security footage here, a few voice-changed phone calls there and the president didn’t know any better about the corruption boiling underneath her feet.” You shake your head before following in step with the Agent as his arm drapes its way over your shoulder. Leading you towards the gardens with a smirk as the 141 team look towards him with utmost confusion. 

Johnny calls from the outdoor shower- already having explored the beaches from down the road ahead of your mission start time. “You do look good in swimwear but why are you here man?” Whitby cocks his head to the side before responding, his hand casting gentle rubs to your side. “I also made a… request-” you shove his side. “Well- erm more of a demand that I refuse to work with any other handler too- perks of being the best,” he boasts as you shove him off of you. His smile dips as he whispers sorry as you roll your eyes and take a bow. 

“Glad to know you love me only for work,” you tease- starting to make your way back inside the villa as Whiby darts back over, pulling at your waist as you both fall into an outdoor couch. “You know it's not like that… I mean fuck- I even prop-” you cover his mouth with your hand as he kisses it teasingly. Shaking your hand off with mock disgust, everyone around you stands still and walks closer. “You are engaged?” they ask, worry coursing through their features as they think back to your… quite possibly flirtatious moments Whitby's in the company history that was more than well known throughout the ranks. 

“Oh heavens no! Definitely one day but, duty comes first,” You say, hand on Whitby's knee as a light apology yet he already accepted your decision years ago but that did not mean the offer didn’t hang over both of your heads as did everyone else in your life know not to come in between in beside the playful banter your teams were generally known for. Simon huffs out as your mind darts back to the conversations you shared last night, you watch as he walks back inside the house- Soap trailing behind with a towel wrapped around his shoulders. Price sits across from you both as Gaz resumes sketching out the landscape of the hills and orchids just off in the distance. 

 --

In the night, you and Whitby settled into a room together. Singing softly to the lyrics coming off your phone. Brushing your teeth and doing your skincare in the mirror, steam from the earlier shower was still present within the room, warming your skin as you leaned in and pressed a kiss to the side of his face.

Whitby smiles leaning forwards, slipping his glasses back on while placing his arms at either side of you and lifts you atop the countertop. The cold stone drew goosebumps across your skin as Whitby's light caress from your hand, to your shoulders and resting on your neck as he squeezed lightly, bringing your lips back onto his with a moan. Your hands squeeze at the towel around his waist as you pull back, breathing heavy as your foreheads rest against one another, taking in air as your breathing starts to become more rapid. 

You feel his hand cup your cheek, making its way to your hair as he massages your scalp. You hum out softly, eyes closing as Whitby leans forward once more, taking your lower lip between his teeth in a playful bite. You feel the towel drop as he shivers, hands dropping to your thighs in an instance. Your eyes snap back open, gaze starting to look down before you are being lifted and carried into the bedroom- thrown on the bed as he stalks up to the bedside. Going on his hands and knees as he climbs over to you as you playfully back up, racing towards the headboard as he shoves you down- trapping both of your wrists between one of his hands- his legs locked around your waist as you huff out and try to blow the hair out of your face. 

Smirking down at you. He takes his glasses back off and sets them on the nightstand before gently brushing the hair out of your face, leaving a featherlight kiss to your temple. “Now do tell me… Handler,” He speaks out to you in a breathy tone as you clench your thighs together. “...what are your commands for me tonight?” he teases. 

“Well if you would let me go, maybe I could do a better job at that,” he hums out in contemplation, your breath hitching as he shifts his body weight still hovering above your lips. Your lips start to feel dry in anticipation, “not the answering I was looking for, love.” You roll your eyes before he switches positions, flipping you to face him- his face hovering over your own yet he does not connect his lips to your own. 

“Tease,” you groan out, wiggling your legs, trying to escape from underneath him. He lets go of your hands as they trace the muscles of his lower stomach, down to his abs thoughtful yet just before your hands can drift deeper he distracts you with his lips against your neck as your back arches, hands falling to grip at the bedsheets. He whispers to you, “I ask again, what is it you desire tonight?”

“I desire for you both to put some fucking clothes on you horny fucks,” the voice startes you both- bodies going still and blood going cold as Whitby covers your body with his own as he starts to pull a gun from underneath one of your pillows. You crane your head to see over Whitby's shoulder, eyes going wide to see red-hair glowing underneath the moonlight. Their green eyes search your own with distaste before curing up into a smile seeing Whitby's ass. 

“Looking truly peachy tonight, Whitby,” Agent Beetle teases as you shove the agent off of you, picking up and slipping on the shirt Beetle throws at you with a whistle. Whitby remains on the bed, face red as he racks his mind for the best way to not embarrass himself further. You open the closet, offering the other agent a pair of pants as he hardly covers himself and makes escape to the bathroom. 

“Do I want to know how long you were standing there, Agent?” you press, hands now feeling around the closet for bottoms as the female Agent sits down at the foot of the bed, eyes trailing around the room. “Not too long, Handler of Dick,” she teases further as you press your face into a pair of pants, shaking your head and letting out a silent scream before placing them on. Whitby had yet to return from the bathroom as you both listen to the shower turn on with a raised brown before you show the female agent towards the kitchen for a late cup of tea. 

“I have a 87% accuracy rating to where the Princess could potentially be held from intercepting a call,” you nod your head, “2 sugar- one milk, right” “correct.”

“Anything else?” you press. Beetle looks at you, taking a slow sip of their drink, “yes, I managed to speak with them briefly while they were being moved. No signs of serious physical injury and they smiled at the mention of your name- something about their knight in shining armour or maybe that was Whitby…” their voice trails off in contemplation, eyes replaying the conversation. “No, actually it might have been Jacobs- well that part does not matter! What matters right now is why you were about to go down on an Agent who is not supposed to be here, Handler?” they rebuttal as you take a small sip of your own, setting it back down on the counter. 

“Can a person not have needs?” you ask as they send you a deadpan look. Your face falls into your hands, groaning out, “Not you too…” “How is this me too?” Beetle questions with a knowing smile. Gossipers- the whole lot… you swear to yourself before picking conversion back up- trying to save what little face you have left. 

“I already said no… but that does not mean we both do not love one another. I’ve already told him, multiple times at that to find someone else- to-to move on from me yet he never does and I never do either. I love him, I know that but…” you exhale a deep breath, the floor creaking from down the hall as you both pause. Your shoulders tense before dropping as Whitby places a kiss to your shoulder and steals a sip from your drink. You watch as he does this, maintaining eye contact yet as you peer deeper in- you only see understanding. He has been listening… 

He moves away, placing the cup back down before messing through the fridge for a late night snack as you playfully shake your head, Beetle clearing their throat- drawing your attention back to your previous conversation. “But as I was saying, it was one of my final missions before getting promoted and it went tits up. We became swarmed and I was the only agent left on the premises. Aggressors were everywhere, Police were moving up the stairs and I was blocked into a corner- underneath a table. One of them managed to get through my jacket. I strangled them, reaching towards the gun and just as I fired… the bullet continued and hit a civilian. I didn't notice at the time, my body filled with adrenaline and the need to escape yet as I looked back, church bells ringing- I…” you start to quietly sob as Whitby wraps an arm around you for support as you lean back into his embrace. “I killed the groom on what was supposed to be his happiest day, I made it his last and… it's the guilt. Knowing that I took that away from someone that I cannot allow myself to have the same.” You fail to even out your breathing as Whitby begins to glare over your head at Beetle for making you into this state. 

“That’s why I can never be anything more with anyone… no matter how much I may want to… I deserve to be in this pain for giving it out to someone undeserving-” 

“Daniels-” Beetle speaks out softly as you shake your head. “It's s'alright agent,” you say while blowing your nose. “We have a princess that I can hopefully save the next day and a man I can fall into bed with later that night and I am okay with that… as long as he is.” you say, hands now tracing patterns into his arm as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead as his arms tighten around your form a bit more snuggly. 

“As long as I’m with you darling, in any way,” Whitby states. “Let's go back to bed now, Beetle, there is a room across from ours, I think we have awakened the rest of the house- best we all get some good rest.” You look down the hall, seeing the various lights lit underneath the doors before holding Beetle's hand gently- giving it a squeeze and dropping it. Both watching as she turns into her room as you both do the same.

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[miloformula123fan]

I absolutely want part 2 of the love language fic!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

ohhh of course, but warning, it's gonna hurt!

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

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peter bonnington x wife!reader

“You, okay darling?”

“Yes” she croaked, laughing at her own ruined voice

“Who’s going on the podium, darling?”

“Fred. I think Toto wished that the overtake had worked so he could be on the podium for Lewis’ final race. Are you ready to be coaching a child next year? Bit of a step down from your 7 time world champions.”

“He seems like a nice kid, y’know. Good championship this year. And next year is about rebuilding and then the year after going for the trophy.”

“With the kid? God, trying to break Seb’s record are we?”

Bono snorted but the laughing fell off his face as he grabbed Y/N’s hands.

“Take care of him, okay? I don’t trust him with a lot of people, so I’m trusting you with him.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Y/N laughed as she threw Carlos in after Lewis. There were a few sad faces mainly from Carlos’ side of the garage and Williams. Maybe they were thinking about Sauber’s pit stops from this year. And how that was them next year.

And Williams. She would miss Logan. She’d taken him under her wing after seeing the way James was treating him. And while she was happy he’d managed to get a seat at Prema’s Indycar project, she would miss seeing him week in week out. 

---

“OH FUCK NO NO NO LEWIS.” Y/N wanted to cry as she watched Lewis slip down the order as the pit stop was screwed up, as they tried to take the wheel off for the third time.

“Shit, Lewis I’m so sorry.” Y/N raised her head from her hands to make sure Lewis could hear her properly as she mumbled into her mic as the scarlet ferrari rejoined the race.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. We’ll come back stronger next race.” Lewis tried to reassure her as he fought with the Haas cars.

Y/N wanted to believe it. She really did. But she could sense the glares coming from the Mercedes garage next to her as she sat at the pit wall, cursing herself, her head still in her hands. Watching through her fingers as Lewis fought for position with Haas. The Ferrari was so good. He should be breezing past them.  Scratch that, he should be miles ahead of them and not even in contention to see them unless he was lapping them.

Y/N couldn’t stop rewatching the interview, the way Toto mocked Ferrari and appeared angry at them for what had happened in the race. She could still feel the anger from the race mistake, she could almost hear all the critics, all those who hadn’t wanted her anyway, now utilising the current mishap to further mock her, further their arguments.

Their arguments that she did not belong.

And maybe she didn’t. Her entire career she had felt like she was the model, she was the goal for little girls who weren’t into karting. She was the trophy that got paraded out any time any time there was an argument about inclusion or a situation where someone was being cancelled and they needed her to confirm that the paddock was a good place to work.

“Darling, you promised you’d protect Lewis.”

“Yeah, well y’know” she barked out a dry laugh “it’s like a coming of age when you race for Ferrari.”

“Well, okay then, but I mean you told me…”

“THE FUCK DOES IT MATTER ANYWAY?” Y/N outburst. She saw the shocked look on her husband’s face and tried to lower her volume as he spoke.

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Yes it matters, you’re Lewis’ race engineer, if it doesn’t matter to you, who does it matter to?”

“Not me. I’m leaving next year anyway.” Y/N couldn’t look her husband in the eyes as she said it.

“You’re what…”

“I’m leaving. I’m going to red bull if it matters.”

“What do you mean you’re going to red bull? You’re ferrari’s best engineer.”

“Yeah, well, red bull had a better offer. Y’know? You’re working on the future and red bull are bringing up Liam, so. New experience for me. I’m older y’know, last hurrah, bringing Liam a championship.”

“But Ferrari have Lewis, Adrian, Charles, Fred…”

“So? It’s my fucking life Peter, you don’t own me. I can make my own decisions and I can make my own choices in my life. And this is my choice. And if you can’t respect that, then maybe I should leave here too.” 

Y/N didn’t even wait for a response, but simply turned and left, needing to calm down.

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