#not the asks and replies getting more and more chaotic the more we do this back and forth thing

[papaya-twinks]

get over it! - l.n - p.2

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mental breakdown, breaking glass.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - sorry this took so long, I was doing all Lando’s birthday ones x

parts 🧡

Time Skip - Formula One Baku Grand Prix Pre-Race

Baku had always been a city of contrasts—historical yet modern, chaotic yet beautiful. And today, it felt like the perfect reflection of Lando's mood as he walked down the paddock, his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses, jaw clenched tight.

Since your little ‘incident’ with Lando at Qualifying, you’d made sure to steer well out of his way. You would rather not be blamed for his driving by Zak or Andrea anyhow. It did slightly piss off the mechanics on Lando’s side of the garage, however.

Your energy was something that helped a lot of them to keep going, and now you were steering clear of Lando’s while side of the garage. You hadn’t even noticed him sliding into Oscar’s garage, as you handed around drinks.

“Y/N,” he said, tapping you on the shoulder, your shoulders immediately raising defensively, your head turning away from, signalling your dislike in speaking to him. “Y/N," he pressed, this time with more urgency. "Can we talk?"

You shook your head, still not looking at him. "I don’t think there’s anything left to say,” you said simply, handing some of Oscar’s mechanics some drinks. "You’re avoiding me," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. "You can’t just walk away, not after what happened,” he said firmly.

“Yes I can, besides, why do you even care? It’s not like you to do so,” you said, placing your tray down, taking some new cups from the stack. “Some of my mechanics are pissed about you not being in the garage and stuff,” he mumbled, slightly annoyed.

“Oh, and they made you drag your ass here to ask?” you asked, a scoff on your lips as Lando rolled his eyes. “Sorry for asking you to do your own damn job,” he snapped, his voice filling with the frustration and bite from earlier.

“Let me do my fucking job, and stop talking to me, then,” you said, your voice with equally as much spite as you glared at him, his jaw set firm, eyes narrowed. You rolled your eyes, walking past him, your chin held high - so what if he was a driver? He didn’t own you!

You’d had many fights with Lando, countless, some of them about such minor things, you almost laughed when you looked back at them. Of course, there was a time, even after the Sochi incident, where maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he could have forgiven you.

But then again, it was Lando Norris. He’d do anything just to fuck shit up.

Flashback - 2021 Mexican Grand Prix

It had started innocently enough - a late-night discussion about his diet. He had asked you to double-check his hydration formula before heading to the gym. You’d pointed out that it didn’t seem balanced, that he'd been skipping meals. He’d brushed it off like it was nothing. But that was just the start. 

“Why do you always act like you know better?” he had snapped, voice low but cutting. “I’m the one racing out there. You’re just a helper,”. His words stung. You didn’t respond immediately, too shocked by the sudden shift in his tone. But when you did, your voice was tight with restraint.

“Just a helper?” you’d repeated, incredulous. “I’ve been working with you for years, Lando. Don’t act like I don’t know how to do my job,” you had said, your voice edged with a hint of shock and hurt. “You don’t work with me, Y/N, you’re not on my level, you won’t ever be on my level. You work for the team, at least get it right,”.

“You can’t just skip meals and expect your hydration to be perfect,” you had replied, a little more firmly. “Your body needs food to process all the fluids properly. If you’re running on empty, no amount of water is going to make a difference.”

“I’m fine,” Lando shot back immediately, his tone defensive. “I told you, I’m good. I just didn’t feel like eating. It’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice becoming more and more frustrated. Why couldn’t he understand what you were saying? And why did all your arguments have to be centred around water?

For a moment, it seemed like Lando was going to say something else, but instead, he crossed his arms, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. “I don’t need a babysitter, Y/N. I’m not a child. I know how to do my job,” he had said, his eyes narrowed once more.

The words hit harder than they should have. You’d been working with him for quite a while, supporting him in every way you could, and this was the first time you felt like he didn’t appreciate it. “I never said you were,” you had said, your voice cold now, your patience worn thin.

“But when you start acting like a diva and skipping meals while I’m the one having to pick up the pieces, then yeah, maybe I do need to step in,” you said, your jaw set firmly and your eyes narrowed. Lando opened his mouth to retort, but you turned away before he could, your back to him as you grabbed your tablet from the table.

Your hands had been shaking with frustration, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “I don’t have time for this right now,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “I’ve got a hundred other things to do,” you moved to his door, only stopped by his voice.

He didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his eyes on you. After a long, charged silence, he finally spoke. “You think I’m just acting like a diva, huh?” he asked, his voice colder than you would have thought, sharp and almost like a snarl.

“Im not the one who fucking acts like I run the whole team off my own back - all you do is give water to people, Y/N, you’re useless!” he snapped, his voice raising as you flinched. “Useless? I’m not-,” you started, your own voice becoming louder.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/N! You think, just coz a few people like you, that you’re the one managing this whole team? You don’t do shit, Y/N, you’re not important! People would be sad you left your day or two and forget about it, okay? You’d be replaced in an instant, you have no skill!”.

All of this. Over a water plan. “I…fuck you, Lando,” you said, your eyes brimming with tears, voice cracking as you stepped out the door, not even sparing him a glance as you rushed away from him,”

Present Time - Formula One Baku Grand Prix

Sure, you were pissed at Lando, but it really wasn’t fair to take it out on the whole team, do, begrudgingly, you dragged yourself to Lando’s side of the garage to hand out refreshments, much to the relief of the mechanics and engineers.

Just imagining if Sochi had never happened in 2021, or you’d never said the comment that you’d said, it would’ve been some different, and you would’ve been cheering and going crazy with the team, watching Lando climb higher and higher from his low position.

You could practically feel the tension radiating off of Lando’s car, the stress of a potential championship fight that could be washed away due to one bad qualifying session, or the struggles of getting through to at least a points playing position, everyone was on edge.

Lando had a lot of positions to make up if he wanted to salvage his weekend, or at least begin to try and gain some points. And boy, did he make up positions. One after another, he passed car after car, refusing to let the mistake of qualifying 16th define his race. He was determined to prove himself.

As the race wore on, Lando's mood lifted. Every overtake, every clean pass, brought him closer to his goal. He had no idea what position he was in now—he was just racing, just pushing harder than he ever had. When the final laps came, he found himself fighting for 4th. And when he crossed the line, there it was: 4th place.

But all you could do was bury it deep inside of you and push Lando out of your mind - sometimes there were times when you wished you could have screamed and cheered with the team, like in Miami. But you had Oscar’s current winning margin to distract you from the hurt in the pit of your belly.

Time Skip - Post Race - Baku

The mechanics jostled round the garage, all talking, but slowly leaving, exiting the garage as the sky darkened, a pale shade of greyish-blue, a colour you found quite beautiful actually. Like a reflection of the ocean, in some ways.

“Why are you still here?” a voice snapped you from your train of thought, ruining what was otherwise quite a peaceful movement, your gaze forced sway from the clouds. “None of your business,” you scoffed, picking up your drinks tray from the side as Lando stared.

“I mean, kinda is,” he replied, his nose scrunched distastefully, like you were something or someone lower than him, which was how he perceived you anyways. “Everyone else has gone home,” he pointed out.

“Cheers Captain Obvious,” you said sarcastically, the glasses tinkling on your tray, some with lines of red wine at the bottom, beams of white from the lights above reflecting off the glass. “Whatever,” Lando said, his voice nearly a mumble as he dug he is hands into his pockets.

“Look, I’d appreciate if you stayed the fuck out of my way,” Lando said sarcastically, “I can’t stand your stupid presence,” he snapped, “there’s nothing to fucking be so happy about, I can’t have you annoyingly positive energy around all the time,”.

“Excuse me?” you said, not quite sure what to say after that little outburst of his came from. “You heard me, you’re stupidly positive and all you do is frolic around with that stupid little tray of yours,” Lando snapped, pushing the tray out of your hand, the plate clattering onto the floor, the glasses shattering at your feet.

“Lando, what the fuck is your issue?!” you half-screamed, scrambling away from the shards of glass scattered on the floor, cutting at the soles of your sneakers. “Just….fuck off, okay?!” he said, his curls a messy heap on his head, his eyes wild.

He looked on the verge of a full breakdown as you stared, in shock at the whole thing. He’d been fine a few seconds ago, what the hell had happened? “Lando, I didn’t-,” you started, raising your hands almost in surrender.

“I don’t care, I don’t care, Y/N!” he covered his ears, “Just fuck off!”. You said nothing, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stumbled back, away from the glassy heap on the floor, and rushing away from the garage. You’d never seen Lando break down before.

Was he…Was he okay?

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Shadows and Paws

Chapter 4: Boundaries and Bonds

Pairing: Task Force 141 x reader

AU: Hybrid 141 X Hybrid Reader

Warnings: language, violence, mild blood/injuries, Readers nickname/callsign is Foxy

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, i almost forgot about this chapter but I hope I made it worth the read!

Word Count: 1.4k

Masterlist | Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 5

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The morning fog clung to the trees, shrouding the forest in a damp, eerie silence that set every nerve on edge. Each footstep felt like it echoed too loudly, despite the team’s silent movement. Foxy moved with confidence, yet a tension had settled into their posture, an awareness that they weren’t alone. The forest felt charged, as if the very trees were watching.

The team was alert, senses heightened. Gaz had already taken to the air, circling above to give them a view of the terrain, his keen falcon eyes searching for any sign of movement. Ghost moved in tandem with the others, silent and vigilant, while Soap’s usual energy was tempered, his ears constantly flicking to pick up the smallest sound. Price took up the rear, his mind running through different strategies, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were stepping into something dangerous.

"Something’s not right," Soap murmured, his voice barely audible. "I feel like we’re being watched."

"That's because we are," Foxy replied, scanning their surroundings, their eyes sharp. "It’s not just the rogues. This forest has its own… rules. Keep close, and don’t get separated. Trust me on this."

Price nodded, sensing the gravity in Foxy’s tone. He knew they wouldn’t give that kind of warning lightly. "Stay sharp, all of you. Eyes on each other."

Their surroundings grew darker as the trees thickened, the mist swirling around them like a ghostly veil. Even Ghost felt unnerved by the strange silence. The usual sounds of forest life—birds, rustling leaves, snapping twigs—were absent. It was as if the forest itself had been subdued.

As they descended into a small hollow, Foxy stopped suddenly, raising a hand. The team froze, their eyes darting around as they tensed, prepared for anything. The silence pressed in on them until the faintest of sounds broke it: the soft crunch of leaves underfoot. Foxy’s ears twitched, and they turned to the team with a serious look.

"We’re close. They’ll have scouts positioned around here," Foxy said, barely above a whisper. "They’ll spot us if we’re not careful."

"Can’t we just go in and give ’em a surprise?" Soap asked, his voice tinged with frustration, but a look from Price kept him silent.

"No. We’re outnumbered here," Foxy replied, a hint of exasperation in their tone. "This isn’t a game, Soap. One wrong move, and they’ll know exactly where we are. We have to play this smart."

Soap glanced away, chastened but still visibly restless. Ghost noticed and placed a hand on Soap’s shoulder, a rare gesture of solidarity. "Listen to Foxy. They know this terrain better than we do."

Soap took a breath, nodding, and gave Foxy a slight, apologetic smile. "Fine. Lead the way, Foxy."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Foxy’s mouth. "Glad you’re finally seeing reason," they teased, though the tension in their posture remained.

They led the team forward, moving with caution. Each step was calculated, each breath measured as they descended further into the underbrush. The forest was dark and thick, and the weight of the silence pressed down on them, more oppressive with each passing moment. Finally, they reached a small rise overlooking a clearing, and there, gathered near an abandoned structure, were the rogue hybrids.

The rogues weren’t just the chaotic, disorganized troublemakers Foxy had described before. Their formation was tight, disciplined, as if they’d been waiting for an ambush. Some had weapons, crude but effective, and their eyes glinted with a dangerous focus.

Foxy tensed, their eyes narrowing as they took in the rogues below. "They’ve gathered more than I thought," they whispered. "This is going to be… tricky."

Price glanced at Foxy. "What’s our best move here?"

Foxy hesitated, their sharp eyes calculating. "We need a distraction. Something that’ll draw their attention, just for a moment. Once we have that, we can move in and neutralize as many as possible. But it’ll be risky."

"I’ll go," Soap volunteered, the gleam of a plan in his eyes. "They won’t even see me coming."

Foxy looked at him, assessing, and then nodded. "Alright. Just don’t get yourself killed."

Soap grinned, giving them a quick wink before slipping down the incline. His movements were quick but controlled, every step soundless as he made his way toward the rogues.

Ghost leaned in, murmuring to Foxy, "We trust you to lead us here. But you need to know we’ve got your back too."

Foxy looked at him, their usual playful demeanor softened. "I appreciate that, Ghost."

In the clearing, Soap was nearing his target, a lone rogue standing a few paces away from the others, back turned. In a fluid, silent movement, he lunged, his hands closing around the rogue’s weapon and pulling them backward, rendering them unconscious before they could make a sound. The team waited, tension thick as Soap disappeared into the shadows again, inching closer to the heart of the group.

Suddenly, a sharp voice rang out from the clearing. "Well, if it isn’t the little fox," one of the rogues sneered, their voice thick with disdain. "Did you think you could just wander back in here and claim territory?"

Foxy’s jaw tightened, and they whispered to the team, "Stay low. This one’s trouble."

The rogue leader, a tall figure with dark, matted fur, looked directly at Foxy, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and disdain. He took a step forward, his voice carrying through the clearing. "Thought you could come in here and take control? You’re delusional."

Foxy’s eyes narrowed, their hand hovering near their own weapon. "I didn’t come to take control. I came to stop you from destroying everything."

The rogue leader laughed, a guttural sound that grated on the nerves. "You think you can stop me? You and these… pets of yours?" He glanced at the rest of the team with a sneer, clearly unimpressed.

Price’s hackles rose, and he took a step forward, his voice a low growl. "You might want to rethink that."

The rogue leader’s gaze flickered over Price, then over the rest of the team, and something changed in his expression. He took a step back, as if reassessing the threat before him. "So you brought a little pack with you," he said, trying to sound nonchalant, but the unease in his voice was unmistakable.

Foxy smirked, their confidence returning. "Did you really think I’d come here alone?"

The rogue leader scowled, his expression darkening. "This isn’t over, Foxy."

Foxy’s expression hardened, their voice steady and unyielding. "No. It’s just beginning."

At that moment, Soap gave the signal, and the team moved in, a coordinated, seamless assault that caught the rogues off guard. Ghost’s panther-like reflexes kicked in, his movements swift and deadly, while Gaz swooped down from above, his talons aimed with precision. Price kept close to Foxy, covering them as they fought their way through the chaos.

The battle was quick but brutal. Foxy moved with a ferocity that surprised even them, every strike aimed with a deadly accuracy. They fought side by side with the team, their movements in perfect harmony, as if they’d been fighting together for years. In that moment, any lingering doubts about trust dissolved. They were a team—a pack.

As the last of the rogues fled, Foxy turned to the team, their eyes shining with a fierce pride. They were bruised and bloodied, but they stood tall, unbroken.

Price stepped forward, nodding approvingly. "Not bad, Foxy. Not bad at all."

Foxy smirked, wiping a bit of blood from their cheek. "I told you I could handle myself."

Soap clapped a hand on their shoulder, grinning. "You did more than that, Foxy. You saved our hides back there."

Ghost inclined his head slightly, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "Looks like you’re one of us now."

The words hung in the air, and for the first time, Foxy felt a warmth in their chest—a sense of belonging. They looked at each of them, their expression softening. "Thank you," they said quietly. "For trusting me."

Price simply nodded. "We’re in this together, Foxy. Let’s get moving."

And as they left the clearing, the fog seemed to lift, the forest somehow less foreboding, as if it too recognized the bond they’d forged that day. They weren’t just a group of individuals anymore. They were a team. A pack.

—————

End of Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[theslushiestnoob]

THE BOY NEXT DOOR (pt4)

Word count: 2k

Hamzah x reader

————————*:･ﾟ✧*:——————————

The next few days passed in a blur - some more interactions with Hamzah, some more errands to run, and ,somehow, it was the night before we left for Croatia.

I was neatly stacking my clothes into my suitcase, my feet folded under me as I sat on the floor, when I heard the knock. I trudged to the door, shielding my eyes from the late afternoon light streaming in through the open window and casting a golden hue throughout the apartment.

Opening the door, my eyes fell upon a tall, curly-haired boy. A beanie was pulled low against his brow, a few loose curls escaping it and framing his angular features. He scrubbed a hand against his firm jaw, smirking as he locked eyes with me.

‘Oh. It’s you.’ I turned, beginning to walk back to my room and continue packing.

‘I just love your enthusiasm to see me, girlfriend!’ Hamzah said chirpily.

‘Nope! None of that, please. Not when it’s just us,’ I called over my shoulder, waving Hamzah away as he followed me into my room. As he crossed through the doorway, his gaze darted from wall to wall, taking in all of the decor. He seemed awed, looking at the trinkets on my desk to the spines of the books on my shelves.

‘First time you’ve been in a girl’s room for a while, huh?’ I teased, settling back down on the floor. Hamzah chuckled, crossing his hands across his chest and leaning against the door.

‘First time I’ve been in one this chaotic, that’s for sure.’

‘Unfair. I’m packing. Why are you here, anyway?’ I asked, agitated and unsure how he had found his way into my room.

‘I wanted to ask you on a date, he replied coolly, spinning the ring on his finger.

I almost dropped the pair of sandals I was holding in shock, before I remembered our arrangement.

‘As practice?’ I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

‘Obviously. I just think we should go on a proper date, it’ll probably be better practice than anything else we’ve tried.’

I thought about it for a second.

‘Fine. But help me pack, first.’ 

*

After a short car ride of bickering over the radio, we finally reached the restaurant Hamzah had wanted to come to. I had changed before we left - ditching my boy shorts and hoodie for a pair of dark denim jeans and a fitted blue shirt. Standing on the pavement outside, I looked up at the building, a cursive sign denoting the place to be Enzo’s italian ristorante. Fairy lights draped from the branches of two blossoming trees cast the facade in an ethereal glow against the dim, pale light of the moon.

It was beautiful. I was slightly surprised that Hamzah had taken me here, I had honestly been expecting a fast food place where we’d eat in the car. I began to walk toward the large double doors of the restaurant, Hamzah beside me. As we reached the entrance, Hamzah pushed open the door and pressed his other hand to the small of my back to guide me inside. I instinctively flinched away from him, swatting his hand away and scrunching my brow in distaste.

He leaned into my ear, whispering in a hushed voice, ‘Nuh-uh. As far as anyone knows, we’re dating. You have to act like it, not how you normally do, you have to sell it.’

I raised my eyebrows. Was that a challenge?

‘Oh I’ll sell it alright,’ I murmur, pushing my way through the door and striding up to the desk.

‘Hi there!’ I greet the waiter, turning to face Hamzah beside me. ‘Honeybuns, do we have a reservation?’ I asked, looping my hands around his bicep and resting my head on his shoulder. I plastered a cheesy smile onto my face, turning back to the server. Hamzah stammered for a moment, his eyes darting between my face and my hands.

‘Yes, we do,uhh… baby,’ he said, turning to tell the server his reservation. The man nodded, and led us to our table.

���Can I get you started with any drinks?’

‘Ooh,’ I say, ‘I’ll have a glass of wine, please.’

‘Which o-’ the waiter begins before he is interrupted.

‘Hold on, sugar. Are you sure you should be drinking, you know, with the baby?’ Hamzah said, resting his hand on mine outstretched on the table. I gritted my teeth, shooting him a lethal death stare.

‘Of course, you’re right, babe,’ I managed through my scowl. ‘Just two cokes then, please,’ I asked the waiter, who promptly whisked away with our order.

I threw my hands up in the air and glared at Hamzah, who was laughing to himself.

‘Great, so now I have to get through this sober, too,’ I grumbled.

Hamzah’s smile stretched further into a grin. ‘Two can play at your game, y/n.’

*

After placing our orders, the conversation flowed somewhat freely. It didn’t feel like a real date, the tension that always hung between us was ever present, yet I could somewhat relax in the ease of conversation. Hamzah was talking about cats when I spotted the waiter coming towards us with our food, and I decided to swiftly change the topic.

‘Oh, baby, my legs are still aching after last night. I could hardly stand after you-’ the waiter reached our table, a mortified expression on his face. ‘Oh! Thank you!’ I said innocently, shooting a smug grin at Hamzah, who seemed equally as shocked. 

‘Sorry if you overheard that,’ I said to the waiter, ‘but can you blame me? Look at this handsome face!’ I reached across the table and took Hamzah’s face in my hands, squeezing his cheeks into a pouty expression.

‘If you think that’s impressive, you should see his-’

‘Okay!’ Hamzah interrupts. ‘Thank you, everything looks perfect.’ He nodded curtly at the waiter, who seemed extremely relieved to be dismissed.

‘Christ, y/n, you’re going to get us thrown out,’ he whispered, a simultaneously amused and shocked expression on his face. 

I laughed in response, turning my attention to my meal and plotting how I could one-up his antics. 

‘So…’ Hamzah started, breaking the silence that had settled between us. ‘Do you really think I’m handsome?’

I rolled my eyes.

‘I hate you,’ I said with a sigh.

*

We had enjoyed our meals, and the lateness of the evening combined with the amount of food we had eaten was beginning to take its toll on both of us. I yawned, and Hamzah took that as an indication to get ready to leave. I looked up at him, a glint of mischief in his dark eyes, and sighed in anticipation.

‘My angel honey bear, I love you so much, and there’s something I have to do before we go.’

I watched intently through narrowed eyes as Hamzah rose from his seat and moved to stand beside me.

‘I have loved you since the moment I saw you, my pretty princess.’ He placed a hand on my knee, lowering himself to the ground. My mouth dropped open in shock, not believing that he had taken it this far.

‘y/n, will you ma-’

‘Get up.’ I whispered through gritted teeth, a faux smile plastered on my face as I looked around at everybody watching us. Hamzah conveniently ignored me, reaching into his jeans pocket. He pulled out a silver ring, one which I had noticed on his hand earlier. Bastard.

‘Will you marry me?’ He continued, looking up at me in a display of faux apprehension.

I glanced around at the room of expectant people watching us, and almost kicked Hamzah right in front of them. I had to play along, to win the challenge he and I had almost wordlessly set ourselves. I couldn’t let him win.

‘Yes!’ I exclaimed, in far too high a pitch. 

Cheers erupted throughout the room as I offered Hamzah my hand. He slid the ring onto my finger and it was, of course, far too big. He rose to his feet, sweeping me up into his arms and whisking me out of my seat. He laughed in my ear as he swayed me from side to side.

‘I think I won,’ he taunted in a sing-song voice.

‘I’m going to kill you.’ I threatened. ‘I don’t even wear silver, you dick.’

He set me down on the floor, pressing a kiss to my temple as he waved to the onlookers. I buried my head in his shoulder, giggling. In this moment, the euphoric high of deception and good humour tethered me to him - our joint laughter intoxicating and joyous. He wrapped his arms around me, encircling me in an embrace, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I belonged.

*

‘Definitely worth it for a free dessert, I have to admit,’ I said through a mouthful of fudgy brownie.

‘Mhm,’ Hamzah replies, chewing on a spoonful.

After the fake proposal, our waiter brought over a huge plate of dessert, which we had already demolished.

‘Okay but seriously, be at mine at 5am so we can go to the airport. Mandy and Martin are going to pick us up from the airport in Croatia, so as soon as the plane lands we need to be locked in,’ Hamzah told me, an intensely serious look in his deep brown eyes.

‘Right. Haven’t I proven tonight that I’m good at this?’

‘I have to admit you are, but when you’re not acting you give off this repulsed vibe that won’t help our case.’ He said, pursing his lips in thought.

I raised an eyebrow at him.

‘Girl, you know I’m right.’

I scoffed and shook my head, muttering ‘Sassy man apocalypse…’ under my breath.

*

Trudging up the stairs to our floor, a comfortable silence settled over Hamzah and I - slightly breathless from the steps but also not feeling the need to speak. I trailed behind him as he stepped onto the landing, pausing to turn back at me.

‘I had a good time tonight, you’re actually not unbearable,’ I told him.

‘You’re so nice to me,’ Hamzah replied sarcastically with a cheesy smile. I giggled into my hand, reaching into my bag to grab my keys.

‘Hold on,’ Hamzah interrupted, closing the distance between us in a single stride. He took my hand in his, lowering it to my side, and placed the other on my jaw. I almost recoiled from his searing hot touch, but something in his eyes rooted me to the spot, transfixing my gaze onto his.

‘I think we should practise one more thing…’ he whispered, almost inaudibly, as his gaze flitted to my lips.

‘Hmm? And what’s that?’ I said coyly, widening my eyes as I wetted my lips with my tongue. Hamzah’s gaze fixed onto the action, swallowing a lump in his throat as he watched. He pressed himself closer to me still, further entangling his fingers with mine. He looked into my eyes for a moment before pressing his lips to mine. He cradled me against him, his large hand roving up my back and pulling me in even tighter. His mouth moved against mine with experienced skill - he was clearly well practised. Something about this realisation caused a tightening in my gut. Jealousy? Attraction? My mind was becoming more like mush every moment his lips were on mine, making it impossible to identify. My fingers tangled in his unruly curls, gently angling his head to fit better against mine. He let out a soft grunt as I ran my hands across his scalp, causing the fire in me to burn even brighter. Just then, Hamzah broke the kiss, dropping his hands from the embrace and returning his gaze to my eyes. His slightly flushed face and swollen lips made my stomach flutter, his hooded eyes on mine unbearably attractive. 

‘How was that?’ He whispered against my face, slightly breathless.

‘Actually not unbearable,’ I replied, biting my lower lip and smiling up at him mischievously. 

The grin he gave me confirmed everything I had been doubting. This boy would be the death of me.

[slay00ryu]

The Chaotic Duo.

A Ronin x Misaki fic

︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Misaki was sitting on top of a building. Shotgun by their side, phone in their shaky hands.

<@hitmeupp>: Anyone wants to be my assassination support?

This was yet another time when they send a message like this to the server, they always did that when the target was either too dangerous or they had a very shitty day. This was the former, their clients hired her to kill a CEO of a big filming company who was also entangled with some shady mafia business. The amount of armed men around him was really getting on the poor assassin's nerves, they just wanted an easy kill, is it so much to ask for?

Well while they were cursing their client in their head, they heard a silent DING, someone dmed them!

<@goreboy>: heard you Needed some Support

<@goreboy>: what's up?

Well, that was unexpected.

Ronin usually doesn't text her when she sends a message like that, it's usually Angel who helps them. Maybe she sent Ronin because she's busy? Yeah, that's probably it.

"Dude oh my fucking God, I am dyinggg here. Like seriously, how guarded can a guy be?" They sent him a short voice message, if Angel really sent Ronin to the rescue then he wouldn't be surprised by the voice message, right?

<@goreboy>: heh seems Like the Best assassin in The Whole fucking japan is really Stressing over a small fry

<@goreboy>: who's The target btw?

"Oh shut the fuck up, I can get stressed!- oh shit he almost looked this way... oops" They send the message and then sent another one. "Some guy who worked with the mafia, the money for him is high."

<@goreboy>: damnnn alr Then maybe shoot him Before He sees ya

<@goreboy>: we Don't wanna our Fav assassin dead

They chuckled at his respone.

"Awh stop or you'll make me blush while i'm killing someone." They said jokingly, Ronin could hear them loading their gun in the message.

<@goreboy>: maybe I'd like to See ya All blushy hm?

Misaki didn't see that message until after they left the rooftop, Ronin's message really did make them blush.

<@hitmeupp>: Oh stfu

<@hitmeupp>: He's dead

<@hitmeupp>: Thanks for the help

<@goreboy>: when You need help Call For the devil and He Will help You out

Ronin chuckled after he sent that reply.

Would he really help the assassin the next time they need help? Never say never, he could as well replace Angel and take some of her worries off of her shoulders, right? Also it's important to keep the server's members alive and out of jail.

Misaki in fact did use Ronin's help, texting him directly to help her out and he was there every time. His replies were different from Angel's, well that was to be expected, they are two different people with very different personalities.

Ronin was encouraging them more in the devilish style, he was flirting with them to keep their mind off of the nerves, made jokes about the target and fed Misaki's ego about them being THE assassin.

<@goreboy>: hey Wanna Call?

<@goreboy>: i'm Bored

Misaki was surprised to receive this DM, Ronin wants to talk, and he wants to do this only with them. Weird? Maybe a little. But he could consider Misaki's interest piqued.

<@hitmeupp>: Ofc babes

Immediately after sending that on their screen was a pop up.

@goreboy is calling.

They picked up without a second thought.

Normally Misaki wouldn't show anyone their living arrangements, but only did they know Ronin for two whole years, he also was pretty open about being in possession of their IP address which meant that he knew where and how they live.

"Hey, hey. What does the big devil want from little me?" Misaki asked once the call connected.

"Not much, jus' bored, and you're quite good at amusing me." Ronin replied with a confident smirk glued to his voice.

"Woah, am I your clown now?" They asked with a fake hurt in their voice.

"More like my personal chaos maker." He was obviously flirting with them, and Misaki wasn't going to let him have his fun alone.

"Maybe we could make chaos together then?" They joked, there was no chance for them to do it together in real life, even if Misaki wished that they could meet up... Wait, what?

"About that." Ronin's voice cut through Misaki's thoughts. "I just happened to get my hands on a plane ticket to Tokio, was wondering if you could be my guide." Ronin's words made Misaki's eyes widened.

"What!" They fell from their chair. "Ouch... wait, wait, wait! What do you mean you have a plane ticket? And to Japan?"

"Don't ask so many questions, you don't need to know." Of course Ronin wouldn't answer, he has to be a fucking mystery. A hot mystery who's really helpful...

"Yeah sure whatever, so you want me to be your guide?" They crossed their arms over their chest.

"Who's better to show me around than the best assassin the whole Japan ever saw?"

"Are you seriously feeding my ego just to get me to agree? Wow Ronin... Why does this actually work every time?" They whined. "Of course I will show you around." They smiled.

"Great, I'll be there next week."

"Wait, what-"

Aaand he hang up.

Yeah. very Ronin style.

"He's coming here? Oh fuck! Ronin IS coming here! Oh my god..." Misaki's voice was mix of stress and excitement.

They started to feel something for Ronin a while ago, but they didn't really know if it would work out. But with him showing up so randomly? Maybe it was a sign?

"Oh my god! Why does it make me so fucking excited?" They groaned and fell on their bed, their face buried in a pillow so they could scream their excitement out.

A week had passed without Misaki even noticing it.

They are standing near the airport exit with the most cheesy and cringey welcoming cardboard ever: "Here stands the devil's servant" written in English, with some edgy stickers all around the words.

It didn't take Ronin long to find them and he was barely keeping in his laughter when he approached Misaki.

"Damn, such a warm welcome. Makes me feel like royalty." He said with that cocky smirk of his.

"...Why are you even hotter in person?" Misaki asked bluntly.

"You're not too bad looking yourself, quite on the contrary, you look so much better in person." He said, Misaki didn't know if he was genuine or if it was just the regular teasing, but their poor heart still took the damage.

"Uh um, yeah! We need to get to your hotel!" They changed the subject, which was answered with Ronin's chuckle.

"Sure, lead the way darling."

The assassin couldn't say that their time with The Butcher was boring. It was anything BUT boring.

Not only did they spent some fun time at the local karaoke, ate some amazing food or did other fun activities. Ronin also made sure to do some illegal activities together, going around abandoned buildings, setting trashcans on fire, Misaki watching Ronin kill a guy, or Ronin waiting for Misaki after their assassination.

They had a good time together. And undoubtedly they grew closer. Close enough that Misaki stole Ronin's shirt from his hotel room and he let her do her thing.

"You're drowning in it." Ronin's voice came from behind Misaki who just put the t-shirt on.

"AH!" They yelled and turned around. "Man learn how to walk and make sound please?" They said and glared at him.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway... You can keep it." He came closer to Misaki. "Suits you." He smirked.

Misaki's face turned red.

"Uh.. um... thanks?" They weren't sure how to interpret his words, but oh lord even without a proper interpretation their heart went crazy.

"Told you, you're my chaos maker." He whispered into their ear. "And we can just bring chaos to the world together."

Was that really the Devil's confession just now?

[inkspiredwriting]

just like his father

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

It was a typical, chaotic afternoon in the Hargreeves household. Five Hargreeves was pacing around the living room, juggling phone calls and paperwork from the CIA. His wife, Y/n, was busy in the kitchen, preparing a snack for their two young children. Their daughter Maddie was playing with her dolls, creating an elaborate tea party setup on the floor.

“Maddie, keep your dolls away from the kitchen table, okay? We don’t want them to get hurt,” Y/n, called over her shoulder.

“Yes, Mommy!” Maddie replied, giggling as she moved her dolls to the safety of the living room rug.

Milo, their mischievous three-year-old son, was playing with a set of colorful building blocks nearby. He babbled happily to himself, stacking the blocks into a precarious tower.

“Alright, just one more call,” Five said, glancing at Y/n with a tired smile. “Then I’m all yours.”

Y/n nodded, returning his smile. “No rush. Just trying to keep the peace here.”

“Peace?” Five chuckled. “In this house? Good luck with that.”

Y/n was pouring juice into a small cup for Milo when she heard a strange popping sound from the living room. She turned just in time to see Milo disappear and reappear a few feet away.

“Uh, Five?” Y/n called, her eyes wide. “You might want to see this.”

Five ended his call abruptly and walked into the living room. “What’s up?” he asked, looking around.

“Watch Milo,” Y/n said, pointing to their son, who was now staring at the spot where he had been.

Five watched as Milo’s face scrunched up in concentration. There was another pop, and he vanished again, reappearing even further away.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Five muttered, running a hand through his hair. “He’s got it. He’s got my powers.”

Y/n’s eyes widened even further. “You mean... he can jump through space and time like you?”

“Looks like it,” Five said, crouching down next to Milo. “Hey, buddy, can you do that again for Daddy?”

Milo looked up at Five with a big grin. “Jump!” he said, clapping his hands. With a pop, he vanished and reappeared on the couch, still smiling broadly.

“That’s incredible,” Y/n whispered, walking over to join them. “But... also a little terrifying.”

“Tell me about it,” Five said, lifting Milo off the couch and setting him back on the floor. “We need to figure out how to teach him control. And fast.”

After a quick consultation, Five and Y/n decided to take Milo outside for some practice. They found a quiet spot in the backyard where they could work with him without too many distractions.

“Okay, Milo,” Five said, crouching down again. “Let’s see if you can jump to Mommy.”

Y/n stood a few feet away, holding out her arms. “Come on, sweetie! You can do it!”

Milo’s face lit up with excitement. He clapped his hands again and vanished, reappearing in Y/n’s arms. She caught him, laughing.

“That’s my boy!” Five said, grinning. “You’re a natural.”

Maddie, who had been watching from the porch, clapped her hands in delight. “Can I jump too, Daddy?”

“Maybe someday,” Five said, winking at her. “For now, let’s just focus on keeping Milo from teleporting into the neighbor’s yard.”

“Or the future,” Y/n added, giving Five a pointed look.

Dinner was a lively affair, as always. Milo’s newfound powers added an extra layer of excitement. Every few minutes, he would disappear from his high chair and reappear somewhere else in the kitchen.

“We’re going to have to set some ground rules,” Y/n said, catching Milo as he reappeared on the counter. “No teleporting during meals.”

“Good luck with that,” Five said, smirking as he helped Milo back into his high chair. “He’s got a mind of his own.”

“Wonder where he gets that from?” Y/n teased, raising an eyebrow at Five.

“No idea,” Five replied, grinning.

Bedtime was another challenge. Five and Y/n tucked Milo into his crib and turned on his nightlight, hoping for a peaceful night.

“Okay, buddy, it’s time for sleep,” Five said, brushing Milo’s hair back. “No jumping out of your crib, alright?”

“Jump!” Milo said, giggling.

“No, no jumping,” Y/n said firmly. “Just sleep.”

They both kissed Milo goodnight and quietly left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

“Do you think he’ll stay put?” Y/n asked as they walked down the hall.

“Probably not,” Five admitted. “But we’ll deal with it. One step at a time.”

Five and Y/n were sitting in the living room, enjoying a rare moment of peace and quiet. Five had his arm around Y/n, and she was resting her head on his shoulder.

“I can’t believe Milo has your powers,” Y/n said softly. “It’s... a lot to take in.”

“Yeah,” Five said, nodding. “But we’ll manage. We always do.”

“Do you think he’ll have the same abilities as you? Jumping through time and space?” Y/n asked, looking up at him.

“It’s hard to say,” Five replied. “He’s still so young. But whatever happens, we’ll be there to help him.”

“We’re in this together,” Y/n said, squeezing his hand.

“Always,” Five said, kissing the top of her head. “No matter what.”

They sat in comfortable silence, grateful for each other and ready to face the challenges that lay ahead. Together, they knew they could handle anything.

[davishater]

I'm glad you liked my thoughts on soft winter 😌 for my next trick I propose winter & physical touch/quality time. This thought has been living in my mind rent free! I can totally imagine winter just loving spending time with someone she likes. I also think she would like just like being close to someone. I saw u mention the idea that winter re-braided Alice's hair after she got egg on it bc it looked much neater in the first flashback and i couldn't get it out of my head since. This got me thinking that she would just casually fix someone's hair/help style it etc so imagine "sitting in winter's lap while she brushes ur hair". Like the casual intimacy of it all is sending me!!! Ooooo also also!!! Baking with her? Yes! (please expand on this thought for me bc my single braincell can't go into detail.) Also this is more of a british thing but if you know the show "great british bake off" I can just totally see myself dragging her to watch it with me. It just fits this scenario so well lol. Bonus points for watching it while cuddling, wrapped in blankets in front of the tv and eating the cookies we made! (Conclusion: I am soft AND whipped).

Pffft, yup, I am now a giggling mess!!!! 😆 "For my next trick..." Lolol, I just adore you! 😂 So I know this is the longest it's taken me to respond, BUT you had me thinking and then it started raining and I immediately went to, Winter and lover (me.... It's me.... I'm admitting it..... 😳) playing in the rain and then it turned into a café trip to get warm/dried off and then it just kept going and OH BOY DO I HAVE A STORY FOR YOU!!!!!! ✍️ Not right now though, I'm still writing it and I'm hoping for it to be pretty long (not as long as my 2,000 word story of Hutter and Chelsea but still pretty long. We'll see where it leads.).

Bruh, when do I NOT think about quality snuggle time with Winter????? For 7 weeks, when I'm not working, I'm laying in bed/on the couch with a horrid concussion! What else am I gonna do????? If someone hangs onto me for too long, then I get claustrophobic, so I'm also the kind of person who enjoys being in the presence of the person they like. I feel like Winter would also have a time limit on snuggles, cause she wouldn't want to feel tied down for too long. I've also been sleeping a lot, but head canon that Winter sleeps for a hobby, soooooo we just chillin' in dream land together, my dude! 😂😂😂😂😂😂

Oh yeah! I got the idea of Winter redoing Alice's hair, cause I picture Winter helping me style my hair, so she'd touch it a lot. I've also thought about Winter washing my hair for me (but at the same time, I accidentally imagine Winter being taller than me, but she's most likely shorter, so washing my hair for me ain't gonna actually work.... 😭 The only reason I'm hating being tall.....) And just her fingers lingering in my hair longer than normal, and just being super gentle, cause my scalp is very sensitive, and just enjoying the softness of my hair as she's washing it. Uhhhhggg!!!! Definitely thought about this many times before you said anything! 🙈 (Actually, I've written a story about Winter bathing with someone she likes, but it was before I had a grasp on her personality, so it's meh.... 🫤"

I've ALSO thought about baking and cooking with Winter. 👀 Whenever I have the strength to make something, I either imagine Winter helping me, or yelling at me to go and sit down..... 😃 See? I'm not the very best at taking care of myself...... 😬 I can expand on Winter and lover baking together, but then my mind is going to go there and I'll be less likely to finish my current story, so at some point I definitely will let my brain go there for you.

I told myself I wasn't going to get into that show, BUT GUESS I GOTTA NOW! HAHAHAHAHA!!!! Imagine Winter and lover doing their own version of the show???? Or trying to bake what they bake in the show (oh no, crap! My mind is just automatically going there! Stop! Go back! Turn around! I said rain and cafe story, not baking together!!!! Ahhhhh)???

[chuluoyi]

LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"

[ohbueckers]

EXTRA POINTS. blurb!

pairing, paige bueckers x fem!reader. notes, glasses p fic per request of a few queens… MAMA WORKED AS FAST AS SHE COULD! @thaatdigitaldiary @absolutelydreadful & credits to @justliketoreadsowhat ‘s anon for the detail. warnings, none just fluff? sexual jokes as well because who am i without them, like…

the night air is still pretty warm, the scent of freshly cut grass still tingling your nostrils after the soccer game you attended with paige and her teammates. it had been a long night—filled with cheering, concessions, and paige’s arm constantly draped around your shoulder as she proudly showed you off. she somehow convinced you to tag along, but watching her light up during the game made it worth it.

now, you’re walking back to the dorms, the sound of sneakers and laughter being the only thing heard off the empty sidewalks as the team stalks a few yards in front of the two of you. paige has her hair slicked back into a messy low bun, a few strands falling loose, and her purple glasses perched perfectly on the bridge of her nose. the lenses catch a subtle blue tint from the streetlights, a little detail you can’t stop staring at—honestly, she looks so good, it’s borderline unfair. you never thought purple glasses could be your weakness, but here you are.

“you enjoying the ice cream, or are you too busy staring at me?” paige teases, glancing over with that signature smirk. she knows exactly what she’s doing, making it impossible to look away from her.

“shut up, paige,” you reply with a scoff, although there’s no ruthless intent as you nudge her with your elbow. “i’m just enjoying the quiet now that your fan club’s calmed down.”

“oh, you love it!” she laughs out, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer. “don’t act like you don’t love watching me be all famous and stuff. plus, you looked cute taking all those pics with me. so i ain’t complainin.’”

you roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile creeping up on your face. paige had been asked for a picture more times than you could count on your hands, and obviously the tiktoks came with that. she’d dragged you into most of it, keeping you close the whole time, making sure everyone knew you were hers. it was chaotic and you were used to it at this point, and you could admit there was something fun about watching her be in her element.

“alright, maybe it was kinda fun,” you say, taking a bite of the spoonful of ice cream she’d held out for you so casually. the cold hits your tongue, and you savor the flavor for a second before narrowing your eyes at her. “but you still owe me.”

paige jerks her head back, grinning and clearly enjoying herself. “owe you? i’m literally spoon-feeding you right now. how do i still owe you?”

you quirk an eyebrow up at her, leaning in a little as you held her gaze, and it was the kind of look that said enough.

she chuckles, leaning back slightly, still holding the spoon in front of you like she’s ready for round two. “aight, fine, i’ll give you that. but let me get you back at home, baby—i got some ideas.” her voice drops a little lower, clearly playing but also half-serious. she may be all jokes, but she definitely knows how to back them up.

before you can even respond, she takes her own spoonful of your ice cream, the nerve, flashing a cheeky grin before planting a wet, playful kiss right on your lips. the cold of the treat and the warmth of her mouth clash, leaving you squealing and half-laughing, trying to push her away. “paige!” you protest, wiping the ice cream from your lips, but there’s no hiding the wide smile breaking out across your face. she’s such a menace sometimes.

as if one cue, everyone seemed to have glanced back at the right time, catching sight of something straight out of a rom-com.

“yo! they really can’t keep their hands off each other.” kk’s voice cuts through.

“really can’t take them nowhere…” aubrey quips.

sarah laughs, chiming in. “oh, we see you, paige! real smooth,” and morgan practically doubles over in laughter beside her.

paige smirks, and you swore she would’ve thrown up those rizz hands if her hands weren’t full. “what can i say?” you smile yourself, shaking your head at her and leaning into the blonde’s side as the banter from behind fades into the background. as much as paige plays around, the way she’s been with you tonight—keeping you close, showing you off, feeding you ice cream like it’s the most natural thing in the world—it’s those little moments that make it so easy to fall for her. every laugh, every teasing smile, even the way she annoys you, it’s like she knows exactly how to keep your guard down. and honestly, you don’t mind one bit.

“you know, you didn’t have to buy me ice cream,” you say softly, looking up at her.

“nah, i did,” paige replies, her voice gentle. “had to make sure my girl knows i take care of her. plus,” she smirks again, looking away like she’s cooking up some mischievous ass reply. “i’m tryna’ score some extra points for later.”

you laugh, shoving her off of you yet she barely flinches. “yeah, okay, keep dreaming.”

paige pulls you even closer, kissing the side of your head as your arms fall to your sides. she murmurs, “dreaming? nah, i’m ms. make it happen.”

[starkwlkr]

was i such a fool? | mark webber

part 1 part 3

ENGLAND

You felt embarrassed. You didn’t know who was the person who spread the confirmed rumor around the paddock, but you knew that being in the paddock was the last thing you wanted to do.

Your daughter, Grace, had been reading in her room while you were in your home office replying to some emails. Zak had let you get some time off, which you were hesitant to take at first but you knew how chaotic it was going to get in the paddock if you were present.

“Mommy!” Grace called for you from her room.

“What is it, my love?” You asked, closing your laptop as you stood up and walked to her room. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, i finished my book. Can we go to the bookstore and get more?” Grace asked.

“Of course we can, baby.” You replied. As you were about to leave to go back to your office, Grace spoke once again.

“Can I go to a race?”

Grace had never attended a race before. She knew what your job was and why it required you to travel so much, but she never once attended a race. It surprised you that she even thought about it.

“A race . . .” You sighed. “You really want to go to a race?”

Grace nodded. “I want to see the fast cars.”

You thought about it for a second. It would be nice for Grace to see a race after years of only seeing it on tv. But then again only several people knew that she existed and you liked it that way.

“I’ll think about it.”

TIME SKIP TO ABU DHABI 2023

MCLAREN GARAGE

Grace watched as several men dressed in orange with helmets on sat in their chairs. She was introduced to the pit crew by you. Everyone on the team was more than happy to meet her. She was extremely excited to be able to watch her first race in person.

“I’ll be over there watching the race, okay? Stay here with Lucy.” You told Grace. Lucy was an old friend from school. When you explained that Grace wanted to attend a race, she offered to look after the girl while you worked.

“Okay. I love you.” Grace gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“I love you more, my love.” You replied and hugged her before you left.

From a distance, Mark watched the girl wave goodbye to you. It made him feel like the worst person ever. How could he do that to you? You never deserved it. You were always so supportive of him, comforting him when he needed it and that all changed the second Mark kissed someone else.

He thought about going up to Grace and making small talk, but he knew you wouldn’t like it. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t want to upset you even more. Seeing her, so close yet so far away, brought sadness to the older man’s heart. She had his eyes, his smile, they even shared the same laughter, something you loved when you were dating Mark.

By the end of the race, he had decided to talk to you.

He tried to find you, but it seemed like you knew he wanted to talk so you hid from him. Only it wasn’t like that. Grace wanted to walk on the track so you took her. Lucy was tired so you told her that you would meet her back at the hotel. She held your hand as you and her walked around. It was a perfect moment for you and your daughter.

“Did you enjoy your first race?” You asked.

“Yes! The cars go faster than on the tv, it was so cool!” Grace exclaimed. “Can I go to another race?”

“You’ll have to wait until next year, my love, and you have school. I don’t want you missing a day of school because of a race.” You explained.

“Okay. . .” She sighed. “Who was the man that was in the garage?” She suddenly asked.

“There’s a lot of men in there, Grace.”

“He didn’t wear orange like the rest of the team. He had one of these too.” Grace pointed to her paddock pass. “I think Lucy said he used to be a driver.”

You had an idea of who Grace was talking about and you didn’t like it.

When you made it back to the Mclaren garage, you saw that it was almost empty. A few members of the pit crew were cleaning up, but that didn’t catch your attention. It was Mark that was pacing around the garage.

“Mommy, that’s the man I was talking about.” Grace whispered to you.

Mark noticed your presence and stopped pacing. “Hi.” Was all that he said.

“It’s getting late, Mark. You should go back to your hotel room, get some sleep. I know you don’t like early morning flights.” You said to the Australian.

“Hear me out, please. Just this once and I’ll leave you alone. Give me five minutes.” He pleaded. The remaining pit crew took that as a sign to give you privacy so they left.

Grace held onto your hand even tighter. “Who’s that?” She whispered again to you.

“His name is Mark.” You said.

Four words was all it took to break Mark Webber even more. He was just Mark to his daughter and he had to accept that.

“Three minutes and that’s it.” You said.

“I’ll take that.”

@glow-ish @vicurious28 @dannyriccsupremacy @viennakarma @pear-1206 @nathalielovesonedirection @jaydaaasworld @shimmermotorsport @honethatty12 @a-beaverhausen

[amirasainz]

Driver Reader x driver, where she shows up with her boyfriend for the first time and all the drivers are super protective. But her boyfriend is just someone normal.

Please and thank you♥️♥️♥️

Ahhh, so cute♡♡♡

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

The Boyfriend

Yn adjusted her Red Bull cap, glancing over her shoulder with a smile as she walked hand-in-hand with Tony. It wasn’t the first time she’d been to the paddock, of course—she was the youngest driver on the grid and had become a regular fixture in the F1 world. But this was the first time she’d brought her boyfriend, Tony, with her. Tony, a calm and level-headed veterinarian, was about as far from the chaotic world of motorsport as one could get. He was supportive, quiet, and always knew how to ground her when the pressure of racing got too intense.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Yn asked, glancing up at him. "I mean, it's kind of a circus in here."

Tony chuckled, squeezing her hand gently. "I'm fine, Yn. Honestly, you're more nervous than I am."

She laughed, the sound light and carefree. "You have no idea what you're in for. These guys… they act like I'm their little sister. They're going to be all over you."

As they approached the Red Bull garage, Yn spotted a few drivers milling about. Charles and Lando were chatting near the McLaren garage, but their conversation halted the second they saw Yn and Tony approaching. Both of them exchanged a glance, and then their eyes shifted to Tony.

"Here we go," Yn muttered under her breath, bracing herself for what was coming.

Lando was the first to approach, a wide grin on his face as he clapped his hands together. "Yn! And who do we have here?" His eyes flickered to Tony, and he looked him up and down like a detective trying to figure out a mystery. "This must be Tony, the famous boyfriend we’ve heard so much about."

Tony gave a polite smile, extending his hand. "Nice to meet you, Lando."

Lando shook his hand, his grin never fading but his eyes clearly sizing Tony up. "So... what do you do, Tony?"

"I'm a vet," Tony replied, meeting Lando's gaze with calm confidence.

"A vet?" Charles piped up, stepping closer. "Like... animals?"

Tony nodded. "Yep. Mostly dogs and cats, but I’ve worked with horses, too."

Charles blinked, as if trying to wrap his head around this very normal profession in their very not-normal world. "Huh. That’s... cool."

Yn rolled her eyes playfully, leaning into Tony. "Told you they’d act weird."

Before Tony could reply, Max walked over, his usual serious expression in place, though his eyes softened when he saw Yn. "Hey, Yn. Tony, right?"

Tony nodded, shaking Max’s hand. "Yeah, that’s me."

Max studied him for a moment, his arms crossed. "You treat Yn well?"

Yn groaned. "Max—"

But Tony smiled, unbothered. "I do my best."

Max nodded slowly, as if he were making a mental note. "Good." He turned to Yn, giving her a rare, small smile. "He seems solid."

"Solid?" Yn raised an eyebrow, amused. "He’s not a car, Max."

Max shrugged, unbothered. "Same concept."

As the group continued to chat, Daniel appeared, sunglasses perched on his head and his usual mischievous grin plastered across his face. "Oh, oh, oh! What do we have here? Yn and her mysterious vet boyfriend!" He walked up to Tony and threw an arm around his shoulder, like they were old friends. "So, Tony... tell me. How’s it feel dating an F1 driver?"

Tony chuckled, glancing at Yn. "Pretty amazing, honestly. I get to see her do what she loves."

Daniel’s grin widened. "Aww, you’re sweet. You’re one of the good ones, aren’t you?"

"Obviously," Yn interjected, giving Daniel a playful shove. "I wouldn’t date him if he wasn’t."

Tony, meanwhile, was taking it all in stride, answering the barrage of questions with ease. Yn watched him, her heart swelling with pride. He was so calm, so collected—completely unfazed by the whirlwind of personalities that surrounded him. And the way he looked at her, his eyes soft and full of love, made her feel like the luckiest person in the world.

As they moved through the paddock, the other drivers seemed to subtly check in on Tony. Fernando gave him a polite nod as they passed by, though Yn caught the slight smirk on Nando’s face when he saw Tony’s hand resting gently on her back. Even Lewis, ever the cool and composed champion, gave Tony a once-over when they crossed paths, offering a brief, “Nice to meet you, mate,” before flashing Yn a knowing smile.

The protective energy from the drivers was palpable, but none of them were over the top. They all seemed to recognize that Yn was happy, and that was what mattered most. Even when Valtteri walked by, eyeing the couple with his usual stoic expression, he paused just long enough to look Tony up and down.

"I approve," Valtteri said simply, giving a nod before continuing on his way.

Yn couldn’t help but laugh. "See? They’re ridiculous."

Tony smiled, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear in that gentle way he always did. "They care about you. That’s not ridiculous."

She sighed, leaning into his touch. "Yeah, they do. They’re like a bunch of overprotective big brothers."

As they reached the Red Bull garage, Yn began talking animatedly with one of the mechanics about the upcoming race, her hands flying through the air as she explained something technical. Tony stood by her side, watching her with quiet admiration. Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

From a distance, Lando nudged Charles, nodding in their direction. "Look at them."

Charles followed his gaze, watching as Tony gently pushed Yn’s hair out of her face while she continued to talk. The way Tony handled her bag, carrying it without a second thought, and the way he listened so attentively—it was clear to everyone how much he adored her.

"They’re cute," Charles admitted with a small smile. "Really cute."

Lando grinned, crossing his arms. "Yeah, I guess he’s not so bad. If Yn’s happy, we’re happy, right?"

Max, overhearing their conversation, gave a rare, genuine smile. "Exactly."

As the day went on, the drivers slowly relaxed around Tony, realizing that there was no need to be overprotective. Tony wasn’t just some guy; he was someone who genuinely cared for Yn, who loved her with his whole heart. They could see it in the little things—the way he looked at her, the way he was always aware of her, making sure she was comfortable, happy, and safe.

By the time the paddock began to wind down for the evening, Yn and Tony were sitting together near the Red Bull motorhome, Yn’s head resting on Tony’s shoulder as they watched the last of the mechanics pack up.

"See?" Yn murmured, her eyes half-closed. "Told you they’d be protective."

Tony chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Yeah, but they mean well. They just love you."

Yn smiled, her heart warm. "Yeah, I know. But they’re gonna have to get used to the idea that I’m not their little sister forever."

Tony grinned. "Good luck with that."

Just then, George walked by, flashing them a thumbs-up. "You guys are adorable. Officially ship it."

Yn groaned, burying her face in Tony’s shoulder, and Tony just laughed. "Told you it’d be fine," he whispered.

And as they sat there, wrapped up in each other, Yn realized that he was right. Everything was more than fine—it was perfect.

[ellecdc]

may i pretty please request more potter!reader x barty 🤲 whatever you feel like darling, though if you need ideas i think i’d be hilarious if james insists on joining reader to the slytherin common room bc he “doesn’t trust” barty and then him just being extremely uncomfortable while the slytherin skittles are their usual chaotic selves

ooooh Barty & our potter!reader. thanks for your request! <3

Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!reader who should date a nice Slytherin like Evan [644 words]

CW: summoning demons as a pass time, Slytherin skittle nonsense, James is way in over his head

“He did what!?” James beseeched as he and Regulus sat down in the Slytherin common room across from you. 

Regulus smirked as he shot you a knowing look. “He released a malevolent poltergeist that was restricted to the haunted hall of the dungeons into Central Hall. Dumbledore and Filch are currently trying to negotiate with it in hopes to get it to return to its designated section of the castle.” 

“A poltergeist worse than Peeves!?” James asked, causing Regulus to cock his head at him.

“You consider Peeves malevolent?”

James blinked at his boyfriend. “Well…I wouldn’t exactly consider him …volent…” 

“Salazar.” Regulus muttered under his breath as he pulled out a book. “Yes, Jamie, worse than Peeves.”

“Bug!” James exclaimed, turning his comically wide eyes (only magnified by the thickness of his glasses) towards your casually curled up form.

“Yeah?” You asked nonplussed as you turned a page in this week's Witch Weekly. 

“What on earth did Junior do!?” 

You looked up at your brother with a look mixed with concern and confusion. “Erm…well, as Regulus just said, he released a-”

“I heard what Regulus said!” James barked as Barty and Evan entered the room; Evan moving to sit politely in a wingback chair whilst Barty languidly rolled over the back of the sofa you were sitting on and laid his body atop yours, which you readily accepted by lifting your arms with your magazine over his head so he could rest his head against your chest. 

“Oh, are we talking about Donny?” Barty asked casually, though he kept his face shoved in the junction of your neck. 

“‘Donny’?” Regulus snickered as James looked at him in horror.

“You named a poltergeist Donny?!” 

“I didn’t name the poltergeist Donny, Potter.” Barty sneered. “It’s a nickname; it’s short for Abaddon.” 

James let out a desperate, disbelieving sound as he turned his attention to you. “Bug, listen; out of all the Slytherin’s, really? Junior? Don’t get me wrong, I get the appeal, really, I do; but why couldn’t you have picked a nice Slytherin, like Evan?”

His question was answered with a snort from his own boyfriend. “Well which is it, James? Do you want her to date a nice Slytherin, or do you want her to date Evan?” 

“Careful what you wish for, there, Potter.” Evan jeered from his seat. 

“You’ve not got a leg to stand on here, Jamie.” You replied simply. “Not only are you and your lot responsible for the sodding squid in the Black Lake, but your own boyfriend is the one who summoned Donny to begin with.” 

“You what!?” 

“Yeah!” Barty chimed in. “I only released him from the dungeons, Regulus is the one who invited him here to begin with!” 

“Why would you do such a thing!?”

Regulus simply shrugged his shoulders. “Evan bet me ten galleons I couldn’t do it.”

“And why would you do that!?” James directed to Evan who also shrugged his shoulders.

“I was bored.” 

“Merlin’s tits.” James whispered in horror as he stared at the floor unseeingly. “They’re sodding mad…”

“Ha ha.” Barty taunted. “You’re in love with the criminally insane.” 

You simply snorted and offered Barty a chaste peck on the lips before he once again rested his cheek on your chest. “Surprised it took you this long to notice, James.” 

“They’ve not exactly been subtle.” Evan added. 

“What are you saying, Evan?” Barty tried to bark, though the way his face was basically shoved into the fabric of your jumper seriously diminished any severity he tried to imbue. “Subtle is my middle name.” 

“That’d make your initials B.S.” Evan continued, causing Regulus to snicker.

Barty hummed in thought. “No, nevermind. I prefer B.J, thanks.”

“Don’t we all.” Regulus added salaciously, and you nearly choked at the abashed look that took over your brother’s face.

“Welcome to the snake pit, Jamie.”

[l4ndonorizz]

q&a stream gets personal / lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: odesza - bloom

summary: a playful Q&A stream takes a surprising turn when hidden feelings are revealed

wc: 1k

The camera flicked on, and Lando grinned widely as he adjusted the mic. “Alright, welcome back, everyone! Today’s stream is going to be a little different, but it should be fun. We’re doing a Q&A, but with a twist.”

You smiled, sitting next to him, already feeling the excitement building. “We’ve each prepared questions for the other,” you explained, waving your phone in front of the camera. “No holds barred.”

Lando laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, I’m already regretting agreeing to this.”

The chat was buzzing with excitement, full of messages about how chaotic this was going to get. The fans had been asking for a Q&A for a while, and you and Lando decided to take it up a notch by asking each other anything—no warnings.

“Okay,” you said, glancing at your list. “I’ll start with something light. Lando, what’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you on stream?”

Lando groaned, shaking his head as the memory resurfaced. “Oh, come on! We’re really starting with that?”

You grinned. “Yep. Spill.”

He sighed, giving in. “Alright, during a charity stream, I was mid-race, everything was going well, and I decided to take a drink of water. But I completely missed my mouth and ended up pouring water all over myself and my setup. It was a mess.”

You burst out laughing. “How do you even miss your mouth?”

“Talent,” Lando replied dryly, making the chat explode with laughing emojis. “It was bad. I had to stop the stream to clean up the disaster.”

Shaking your head, you scrolled through your next question. “Okay, your turn.”

Lando scrolled through his phone, his eyes lighting up as he found a good one. “Alright, if you had to get a tattoo of my face somewhere, where would it be?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Oh, easy. On the bottom of my foot, so no one ever sees it.”

Lando gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Wow, okay. I’m hurt. I thought you’d want my face somewhere more… visible.”

“I love you, but not that much,” you teased, earning more laughter from the chat.

Lando leaned closer to the camera. “Can you believe this? I thought we had something special.”

“You wish,” you replied with a smirk.

The teasing continued as you both threw more light-hearted questions at each other.

“Okay, my turn,” you said, scanning your list. “What’s one of your worst habits?”

Lando didn’t hesitate. “That’s easy. Leaving my shoes everywhere. I know it drives you crazy.”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s not just me. You trip over your own shoes sometimes.”

“Fair point,” Lando chuckled. “But hey, I’m working on it.”

“Sure, you are,” you teased.

The chat was loving the playful banter, with fans sending heart emojis and laughing at your back-and-forth. Lando glanced at his phone again, his smile widening.

“If you had to survive on a desert island with me, what role do you think I’d play?”

You snorted. “The one who makes things worse. You’d try to build a racing simulator out of coconuts or something.”

The chat exploded with laughter, and Lando pretended to be offended. “I’m telling you, that would be an amazing simulator.”

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, grinning. “Meanwhile, I’d be building an actual shelter.”

Lando laughed. “Okay, fair. I’d handle the coconuts.”

The questions continued, gradually becoming more personal. But when Lando scrolled to his last question, the mood shifted slightly.

“Alright,” Lando said, his tone softening. “Here’s one that’s a bit more serious. What’s the one thing in life that you regret the most?”

You froze for a second, not expecting such a heavy question. The chat slowed down, realizing the conversation was about to take a deeper turn.

You bit your lip, thinking for a moment. “I guess… I regret not being good at expressing how I feel. I tend to hold back, and I regret that sometimes.”

Lando’s brow furrowed in curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

You took a deep breath, glancing at the camera before looking back at Lando. The chat was buzzing, but all the playful emojis were gone. It was just an audience waiting to see where this would go.

“I’ve never been good at telling people what I really feel. I keep things to myself because I’m scared of what might happen if I put it all out there.”

Lando leaned in closer, his playful demeanor fading. “What are you scared of?”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of the moment. The chat, the stream, everything else disappeared as you stared at Lando, realizing this was the moment you’d been avoiding.

“I’m scared of ruining things,” you said softly. “Of saying something that could change everything.”

Lando’s expression softened. “What could you say that would ruin things?”

Your heart raced. You knew what you had to say, but once you said it, there was no going back.

“I… I have feelings for you,” you finally admitted, your voice shaky but firm. “And I’ve had them for a while.”

Lando blinked, caught off guard, but his face softened even more. “You… have feelings for me?”

You nodded, feeling both relieved and terrified. “Yeah. I didn’t want to mess up our friendship.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The chat had slowed to a crawl. Finally, Lando broke the silence, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“I’ve had feelings for you too,” he confessed. “I just didn’t know if you felt the same way.”

You stared at him, shocked. “You do?”

Lando nodded, his smile widening. “Yeah. I thought about telling you, but I didn’t want to risk losing what we have.”

A nervous laugh escaped your lips. “Guess we’re both pretty bad at this.”

Lando chuckled, reaching over to gently take your hand. “Yeah, but maybe we don’t have to be anymore.”

Your heart soared at his words, and before you could say anything, Lando leaned in, his eyes locking with yours. The world slowed as his lips brushed against yours in a soft, tender kiss.

The chat exploded with heart emojis, but you barely noticed. All you could focus on was the feeling of Lando’s lips against yours.

When you pulled away, both of you were smiling.

“Well,” Lando said, grinning at the camera, “I guess we just made this stream a lot more interesting.”

You laughed, squeezing his hand. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

The chat continued to explode, but for now, you were just happy to be here, with Lando, knowing that you’d finally said what needed to be said.

[greedyhoneyz]

Judgement Day

.ೃ࿔* pairing: armando aretas x reader .ೃ࿔* synopsis: the aretas name carried weight in miami. it was a name which symbolised power and carried a notion of fear. to mess with an aretas, was a call to an early death. .ೃ࿔* wc: 3k words. .ೃ࿔* cw: angst. assault. violence. blood. harrassment. threats. .ೃ࿔* authors note: another fanfic for a piece of media i have yet to watch. this is long but i hope it doesn't come off juvenile.

The hot Miami heat bared the warmth of a deep-emotion smile at dawn but as night fell, it raged into an inferno, chaotic and wild. It charred and blistered the abode floor, once chilled by seasonal rains and engulfed the city with a tragic blaze.

Even in the heatwave, Miami bustled with life, men and women toiled across the dancefloor, their bodies weary and scorched beneath yards of thin fabric. They jived and boogied to the setlist with as much passion as their drunken states could emote and drank to their hearts' content. At the end of the night, they busted through the doors into the artificial glow of street lamps, staggering, failing to hail an Uber or move on to the next attraction. In the charcoal night, Miami Beach weaved together crowds of partygoers and workers alike, as the early morning sunshine threatened to peek through the sky.

(name) hissed and hollered her way out of the nightclub as her heels clicked onto the pavement.

She had worn them for the sake of fashion. The open-toed stilettos were to die for; they matched perfectly with her mini dress and petite shoulder bag. But now as she waddled, her feet were paying the price. The four-inch stilettos were not meant for walking, the leather straps dug into her skin and the arch pinned tiny knives into her feet. Each step she took sent a shockwave of pain through her feet.

Adjusting her stride, (name) attempted to distribute her weight more evenly into the shoe. It made little difference but she would make it work– the night was young and she had a couple more hours in her.

Straightening her shoulders, (name) fixed her bag and quickened her pace, walking in conjunction with her friend.

“Where are we going?” She had spoken out between anxious breaths, inwardly wincing at the pressure dented into her toes.

“Um…..” Kayla stared into her phone. “Nightingale, Candace said she’ll meet us there.”

“How far is it?”

“Just a couple blocks down. We’ve been there before, remember?”

“I do,” (name) huffed. “It's just– my feet are killing me. I don’t know how much longer I can take this Kayla. I’m tired.”

Kayla stopped, causing (name) to falter in haste as she slowly turned. She faced her friend, boring her eyes into hers, her lips forming into a hard line. She gripped her friend’s arm, holstering her close and darted her pointer finger to her.

“You,” She began slowly, her voice was low at first but grew louder and more boisterous as she glared into (name). “Are not going anyway, do you understand? Today is our night, our night to go out, get drunk and do something stupid, okay? No shoe and no bitch is ruining our night, comprende?”

“Sí. Sí. I understand.” (name) replied shortly, hiding a smile between her teeth.

“Good.” Kayla nodded, tucking her arm around (name’s).

The pair beelined across the strip, accustoming themselves amongst the crowds of partygoers pulling and pushing their way across South Beach. They found Candace waiting by the entrance, looking radiant in a yellow, mini-dress, her wind-tousled hair fell over her shoulders.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, giving them each a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

The bouncer let them in without hesitation, ushering the trio past the long, ascending line trickling across the street, and they made their way towards the bar. The music blared and pulsated from wall to wall and the stage lights flared and spun above them.

“So….where’s this boyfriend of yours at?” Candace asked inquisitively, sipping on her margarita. She wriggled her eyebrows playfully and passed a simple glance at (name’s) phone as she placed it on the bar, a picture of her boyfriend printed on her lock screen.

“Somewhere,” (name) shrugged. “He wasn’t home when I left for Kayla’s place.”

“So you snuck out?” Kayla jeered, propping her chin atop her hand. “You never told me that.”

(name) shook her head. “Nah, it's nothing like that–”

“Wait— this means you can stay out!” Candace bellowed happily.

“Of course I can–”

“No more talking, let’s dance!”

Candace shot up from her seat, slamming her drink on the bar counter, and reigned her hands around Kayla and (name). She wrung them out from their seats with the strength of a colossal giant and tugged the two towards the dancefloor, declaring the two move to the rhythm of the song.

It took a while – a couple of short seconds before Kayla and (name) joined Candace in dance. The three danced in conjunction with each other, keeping close to their circle with a light bounce from side to side and trigger fingers.

As the night wore on, the air grew thicker and (name) and her friends were tipsier. The club music had grown louder and more intense as the DJ turned to play Sexyy Red and the crowd had begun to surge forward in retort to the sharp change in tempo and pitch. The crowd was like a tide, rolling in and out, its rhythm intermittent to the beat.

No more did the throbbing of her feet cloud (name’s) mind; the blend of a rhubarb fizz and vitality was a deterrent. With her closest friends surrounding her, (name) felt at ease, her smile so wide and bright, that she feared it would become permanent.

She rocked her hips, her hands travelling across her thighs and slowly craned forward. She held onto her legs, shaking her thighs as motion rippled across her calves and ascended towards her ass. (name) shook her bottom with a smize, moving her cheeks with such fluid, curvaceous motions it left nothing to disguise that the skirt of her dress began to hike. Undaunted, she continued to move, placing a careful hand between her cheeks as the other tugged her dress down.

So young and so free, (name) craned herself upwards and placed her hands against her chest. She bopped from side to side, twirling her hips gingerly and scored her hands across her breasts and middle. She looked heavenward at the ceiling, the club roof clouded by bright, neon lights and flashes, she squeezed her eyes shut in retort. She dropped her head and opened her eyes, bouncing on the balls of her feet before letting out a raring shrill.

The night flew by in a blur of music, laughter and good company. And by 2 am, the club slowed and the crowd began to disperse. Exhausted but exhilarated, they left the club and amidst themselves between the sea of bodies flooding out from the club.

Letting out a refreshed sigh, (name) turned to her friends. Her hair was dampened, her hot-rod curls once full of life and shine, had dropped, now frizzy and weightless. The fabric of her dress had clung to her sticky skin and her bag was hung at the edge of her shoulder.

“I’m so lit right now,” she moaned, closing her eyes. She wobbled on her two feet, swaying from side to side, pressing her weight onto one shoe and when she threatened to stumble to the side, hauling her weight onto the other.

“Me too,” Kayla replied, stumbling over Candace. She clung onto the woman, grasping onto her dress and pressed herself against the wall.

“I….I think–” Candace couldn't help but giggle to herself, dropping her head.

(name) smacked her lips, her eyes slowly peeling open and peered at the two women. She swallowed deeply, curling her lips in practice before she spoke. “You girls….wanna head off to Oasis?”

“Yeah.”

Both Kayla and Candace hummed in agreement and staggered to height. They adjusted themselves, sheepishly picking at each other, one fixing the other’s hair and the other fixing her dress as (name) collected her belongings into her bag.

“Aye!” A voice began. It was deep and hoarse, breathy as his mouth approached a few more words. “Aye miss!”

Though inebriated, (name) couldn’t mask her quickening discomfort as his heavy footsteps rattled behind her.

She tensed, hiking her shoulders and carefully turned. She wore a tight smile on her face, a mask of politeness.

“Yes?”

The man was tall, handsome, and smelt good. And yet, he failed to strike (name). As she stood before him, swaying from left to right, he grinned, bewitched by her charming features and supple figure.

He smiled at her, his eyes never leaving hers. “I just wanted to tell you that you looked good.”

(name) shook her head and waved her hand, feigning appreciation. “Thank you.”

“You know, I was watching you, inside, dancin’ and shit,” He laughed, tossing his head back. “You can shake that ass pretty good.”

“Thank you–”

“And I– lemme get your number.” His words were quick and sharp; his intent was clear.

“Oh,” she tittered, throwing a glance at her friends. “Well…I’m sorry but I’ve got a boyfriend–”

“You’ve got a boyfriend….” He repeated sullenly. He laughed heartily as if (name) had said the funniest thing ever and shook his head.

“Listen,” He began, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I promise you I ain’t no weirdo. No bear here.”

Kayla was prompt in grabbing (name’s) hand, making no effort to hide her disgust. She moved from behind her, Candace following in tow, and attempted to pull the girl along. “C’mon (name) let's go.”

Like a colossal giant, both the man and his voice grew towers tall. He gripped (name’s) arm and jerked her back. “Aye, I wasn’t done talkin’!”

(name) yelped, stumbling over her feet and sharply jeered her head at the man. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Just give me your number.” He demanded, digging his nails into her skin.

(name) profusely shook her head, quickly sobering up and attempted to pull away. “Let go!”

No more did the nice guy act continue, the man once cheerful and hopeful, sneered at (name), puffing out her chest and flaring his nostrils. He was quick to insult her, hurling a hail of curses aimed at her figure as he fiercely yanked her backwards, swinging her frame towards him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cursed at the top of his lungs, splatters of spit flailing out from his mouth. “You bitches are always too full of yourselves! Wanna act all uppity when a man wants to talk to you!”

“Then fucking let me go! The fuck!” By then, amidst the chaos, a crowd had gathered. Like a mob of meerkats, they gawked, gasped and videoed in disbelief at the rage pelting from the colossal of a man. They watched, uttering words of discomfort and dismay as (name) attempted to rear herself away from the man, thrusting herself against Kayla as she pulled her forward.

“I didn't even want to holler at your ugly ass anyways!” He roared, his voice loud and menacing.

“Oh my fucking god! Let me go! I don’t want to fucking talk to your stupid ass!” (name) shrieked back. Her eyebrows furrowed together and her lips pulled into an irritated scowl.

“Nah you fucking listen to me, bitch!” His voice erupted out from the vessels of his throat like a disgorging volcano, propelling a warcry in the wake of a lava-filled avalanche, in the form of a fist.

In a few short seconds, the colossal revolved free his arm, balling his into a fist and drew it back. He reigned his fists forward, fuelled with fury and humiliation, and swung at (name), striking her in the jaw.

She staggered to her floor with a loud yelp, the contents of her purse pooling across the floor. Both Kayla and Candace circled (name) in protest, pulling into their embrace as the colossal hovered above, jeering.

Candace gasped, her eyes were wide, her mouth agape as she held (name’s) face between her palms. “(name)!” She cried, fretting her fingers across her face. “Are you okay?”

Sore but unharmed, (name) could manage a nod, nursing a hand to her swelling jaw. “I’m…I’m okay.”

Candace shot her head up and leered up at the colossal begrudgingly, shrieking. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Rapidly, she climbed onto her feet, jumping between the colossal and her friend’s dazed figure, and glowering, waving her pointer finger and screeching like a banshee. “Do you like putting your hands on fucking defenceless women?! Huh! Do you think that’s okay?!”

“Aye, shut the fuck up! That bitch got what she fucking deserved—”

The neigh of engines and the screeching of hot tyres hailed across the strip, and the sound had bequeathed a play of silence across the beach.

The once vivacious party strip, nestled with drunk partygoers and deafening music, had quickly shimmered into silence. And all that sounded was the row of heavy footsteps mounting from the street onto the sidewalk. The footsteps marched into the crowd, dispersing the tide and began to section off each corner one by one as the clatter of a single pair of boots trotted forward.

Armando stared at (name), his face firm, and carefully crouched to his knees. It was a while before he spoke, his voice deep and guttural, his eyes boring into hers. “Are you okay?” Slowly, he brought his hands to her face and brushed his thumb against her jaw, the surface of her wound spreading purple with yellow blotches, and when she cowered back his expression darkened.

(name) could only utter a wary whisper, her eyes darting between him and the colossal behind him. “…yes.”

Inhaling deeply, Armando rose to height, hauling his girlfriend up to her feet. He held her hand in his, offering a forgiving glance and turned.

He clambered away from (name), his shoulders taunt and chin heavenward. Armando was angry– enraged. He did a good job of hiding it, but (name) knew the signs.

He wired his neck, rearing it from side to side and heaved slowly, his chest rising and falling. Every muscle on his face tightened, his eyes narrowed, and his chin jutted outward.

He approached the colossal, his arms pinned behind his back and gave him a once-over, sizing him up.

He blinked, parting his lips slowly, and then blinked again. “Do we have a problem?”

The colossal shook his head and feigned a hearty laugh, his pupils flared and mouth twisted. “Nah man, we’re cool–”

“Let me ask you again,” Armando snarled slowly, gritting his teeth together. “Do we have a problem?”

“Listen, man, I can assure you there’s no problem here–”

Armando sucked at the air like it had suddenly become thick and shut his eyes. He’d become deaf to his galling words, his rapid chatter professing a tale of ignorance and regard, a rapid back-tracking to his previously tough stance. And by then, his anger was irreversible.

He lunged at him; pummelling, hitting. Each hit landed with a sickening thud, the blow between skin and fist astounding. The man had swung back, wailing his fists in the air, but succumbed to the force of Armando’s blows. His movements were swift and silent, spectral. The pivot of his feet from place to place was incorporeal. He was impenetrable evading each wild blow before he swung again.

Armando flitted around the man, his movements a blur of speed and precision and winded his knee upwards. It prodded into his middle, driving into his chest, and sent him stumbling backwards, off-balance. His tumble left an opening, a gap between his face and Armando’s revolving leg.

He took the opening, rearing his leg upwards and swung it forward, striking. A rapid combination of punches and kicks followed, each came and landed with more precision and power till the colossal succumbed to near-coming death. He crumbled to the ground, in a grotesque mess of blood. His eyes were swollen over and bloody spit drooled from his slack jaws. He was now as revolting as he should be, finally, the outside reflected the spoiled man within.

Armando stood victorious over the bloody mess that was his adversary and sneered at him with such venom and disdain. He crouched down, his knuckles wounded with welts and stained with blood, not of his own, and grabbed his shirt, his grip like a vice.

He pulled him towards him, his face taut with rage and displeasure, and glowered over him. Under his grip, the man hung like cattle, his limbs astray as blood sputtered from out his mouth.

Armando rubbed his lips, swivelling on the balls of his feet, and gnashed his teeth together, chiding grimly. “You see..” he shook his head, his nostrils flared. “If it wasn’t for her…”

He turned to (name), lugging the man along and pointed. He leaned into his ear, his voice began small as a whisper and bubbled into a rue of senile and ghastly distaste. “…I’d kill you….”

“Consider this a warning–” Armando released his grip, the man flailing back onto the ground, and stood back on his feet. “You fuck with her, you fuck with me.”

He scowled, whipping his hands and leered at the crowd before him. In a stop-start fashion, one by one, the crowd fizzled out in groups of threes, fours, and fives. Song and chatter fizzled back across the strip in small bites and vivid hues flashed across the beach.

Armando turned to (name), his face closed up and extended his arm. He reached for her, placing her hand in his palm and grasped it tenderly. He held her hand to her face and wrapped her wound beneath her hand. He looked at her as her gaze trembled, her shoulders shivering and tugged her towards him. He held her in his arms, his tight embrace swelled around her middle and carefully coaxed (name) away.

Despite the return of vibrance and euphoria flooding across the party strip, an unsettling mist hung over. A monochrome of silver glanced over the black night. There was an uncharacteristically grim line etched across the faces of those among the dispersing crowd, a sense of sadness, remorse, dismay and dread.

Armando Aretas was not to be toyed with— and neither was she.

[natsaffection]

Heated pt. 2 | N.R

Warnings: G!P Natasha, Details of Pregnancy, Details of Torture, Angst, Blood, injury’s

Word Count: 6,3k

A/N: Okayy, I don’t know ow how to feel about this.. I apologize in advance if something is weird, but this is the first time I'm writing in this properly, soo.

I tried to incorporate all your Ideas and thoughts and this is what came out of it.

Part 1

The sterile smell of the medical wing always made your stomach turn, but today was different. Today, the nausea had nothing to do with antiseptics or hospital lights, but everything to do with the gnawing suspicion that had been growing for weeks. Dr. Helen Cho had asked you to come in after your last bout of unexplained nausea and fatigue.

You sat on the edge of the examination table, drumming your fingers nervously on the cool metal. Your mind was racing, a whirlwind of thoughts and fears. What if it was something serious? What if it affected your ability to fight? And, deep down, a thought you barely dared to admit... What if you were pregnant?

Dr. Cho entered, holding a file with a concerned expression on her face. She gave you a reassuring smile, but it did little to ease the tension in your chest.

"Y/n," Dr. Cho began gently, "we have the results of your blood tests."Your heart pounded in your ears. You forced yourself to breathe, to maintain your composure. "It looks like you're pregnant," Dr. Cho said quietly, her eyes full of compassion.

The words hung in the air, a heavy, inescapable truth. It felt like the ground had disappeared beneath your feet. Pregnant. The word echoed in your mind, mingling with a thousand thoughts and fears. You were an Avenger, a fighter, not someone who had time to think about raising a child. And then there was Natasha.

A mix of emotions surged within you. Disbelief, fear, anger, and somewhere, deep down, a small spark of hope. You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you tried to process the news. Your mind was a chaotic storm of questions: How could this happen? What would you do? How would this affect your role with the Avengers? And Natasha... How could you ever tell her?

"How... how far along?" you managed to whisper.

"About 9 weeks," Dr. Cho replied. "We'll need to run some more tests to ensure everything is progressing normally, but as far as we can see, everything is fine."

You nodded mechanically, your mind already focusing on the next inevitable step. You couldn't tell Natasha. Not yet. The thought made your stomach turn more than the nausea. What would Natasha say? How would she react? Would she even care?

Dr. Cho placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know this is a lot to take in. If you need anything or have any questions, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you," you said, your voice hollow. You slid off the bed and made your way out of the medical wing, each step heavy with the weight of the news you carried.

Days passed in a blur. You went through the motions of training, missions, and team meetings, but your mind was elsewhere. Every morning you woke up hoping it was all just a bad dream, but reality remained. You were pregnant, and you had no idea what to do.

The days stretched into a week, and you became increasingly anxious. You avoided Natasha as much as possible, afraid that your eyes would betray the secret you were desperately trying to hide. You couldn't eat, you couldn't sleep, and it felt like you were falling apart.

In the quiet moments, when you were alone, the thoughts crashed over you like a tidal wave. How could you be a mother? What kind of life could you offer a child? And Natasha... Would she even want to be involved? The uncertainty was suffocating.

One particularly sleepless night, you found yourself pacing your room, your mind a whirlwind of questions and fears. You knew you couldn't continue like this. You needed to talk to someone, to get some perspective. Maria came to mind. Maria was always a reliable presence, a voice of reason amid the chaos of your life.

With a determination born of desperation, you made your way to Maria's office. It was late, but you knew Maria often worked at odd hours. You knocked softly on the door, your heart pounding with each passing moment.

A moment later, the door opened, and Maria's calm, composed face appeared. "Y/n, what's going on? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Can we talk?" you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "It's... important." Maria nodded and stepped aside to let you in. She closed the door behind you and gestured to a seat.

"What's on your mind?" Maria asked, sitting across from you. You took a deep breath, the words catching in your throat. "I... I found out that I'm pregnant." Maria's eyes widened slightly, but she maintained her composure. "Okay... wow. How are you feeling?"

"Confused," you admitted, your voice shaking. "Scared. I don't know what to do, Maria. And... Natasha... she doesn't know yet."

Maria nodded thoughtfully. "Considering your relationship with her... I thought things were over between you two?"

You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "So did I. But we... we had our moments. It's complicated. We fight, we argue, and then... well, you know how it is."

Maria sighed and leaned back in her chair. "I understand. Relationships can be complicated, especially in our line of work. But right now, you need to focus on yourself and the baby. Everything else can come later."

"But Maria, what if she wants nothing to do with it?" Your voice broke, tears streaming down your face. "What if she hates me even more because of this?"

Maria stood up and sat beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Y/n, listen to me. You are strong, and you can do this. You've been through worse and survived. Natasha's reaction is something we can't predict, but that doesn't mean you have to go through this alone."

You sniffled and leaned into Maria's comforting embrace. "I just don't know what to do. Every time I think about telling her, I freeze."

"One step at a time," Maria advised gently. "First, take care of yourself. Make sure you're healthy, that the baby is healthy. You're not just an Agent, Y/n. You're a person with feelings, with needs. It's okay to be scared and confused."

"Thank you," you whispered. "I really needed to hear that." Maria smiled and squeezed you reassuringly. "Anytime. And remember, we're all here for you. No matter what happens. Natasha... she has a complicated past, especially with family. It's not my place to tell her story, but know that her reaction, whatever it may be, is influenced by that. But for now, you need to focus on you." You nodded, feeling a small measure of relief. "I know. I'm just scared of losing her completely."

"You won't," Maria said firmly. "Natasha is tough, but she cares about you. It might take her time to process, but she'll come around. And in the meantime, you have me, you have the team. You're not alone in this."

"Thank you, Maria," you said, your voice now steadier. "I don't know what I would do without you." Maria chuckled softly. "Well, you don't have to find out. We're in this together. One step at a time, okay?"

"Okay," you agreed, feeling a new determination. "One step at a time."

Days passed, and your thoughts never strayed far from the life growing inside you. At first, the idea had been a whirlwind of fear and confusion, but slowly, acceptance began to settle in. You often found yourself resting a hand on your stomach, a strange mix of wonder and worry filling your heart. You knew you had to tell Natasha, no matter how frightening the thought was.

The moment had finally come. You stood outside Natasha's quarters, your heart beating so loudly you could hear it in your ears. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door, each second feeling like an eternity. The door opened, and Natasha stood there, her expression as reserved as ever.

"What do you want?" Natasha asked, her voice cool and distant. "We need to talk," you said, your voice firm despite the turmoil inside you.

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly, sensing the gravity of your tone. She stepped aside and let you in. The door closed behind you with a soft click, sealing you both in the small room.

"What is it?" Natasha asked, crossing her arms over her chest. You took a deep breath and met her gaze. "Natasha, I'm pregnant." For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Natasha's eyes widened a little, a fleeting emotion, fear, perhaps crossed her face. But it was quickly replaced by a hard, cold mask.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Natasha hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "You heard me," you said, your own anger rising. "I found out a week ago. I'm elven weeks along."

Natasha's face hardened. "And you think it's mine? You think you can just throw this at me and—"

"I don't think, I know," you interrupted, your voice trembling with emotion. "You came inside me, Natasha, remember? This is your baby."

The room was filled with tense silence, the weight of your words hanging between you. Natasha took a step back, her expression conflicted. She had been trained her whole life to believe that love and attachments were weaknesses, that they were only for children. The idea of a relationship, of raising a child, was something she had never allowed herself to consider.

"No.. we used protection and you take the pill- This changes everything." Natasha said finally, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah, last time maybe, but not at the Party 3 Month ago..“ you replied, your voice filled with anger and desperation. "It does change everything. And you can't just run away from it."

Natasha's eyes flashed with anger. "Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wanted to be tied down like this?" Your own anger flared. "You're not the only one who's scared, Natasha! But you can't just run away from this. It's happening, whether you want it or not."

"I was never meant to have a family," Natasha spat, her voice rising. "I was trained to be a something else, not a mother."

"And what about me?" you ask, tears streaming down your face. "I didn't ask for this either. But I'm dealing with it, and so do you. We made this baby together."

Natasha's face twisted with a mix of anger and pain. "Do you think I can just turn off everything I've been taught? That I can just be a mother, be in a relationship like it's nothing?"

Your heart ached at the sight of Natasha's struggle, but your anger didn't wane. "You're afraid, I get that. But that doesn't give you the right to run away. We have to face this together, Natasha.."

"I can't!" Natasha screamed, her voice breaking. "I don't know how! I was trained to kill, to manipulate, not to love or care for a child. I can't do this!"

"Stop saying that!" you screamed back, trying to hold back your tears. "Stop pushing me away, Natasha. You don't have the right to make that decision alone."

"You don't understand!" Natasha yelled, turning away from you. "You don't know what it's like to be told that love is only for..children, that attachments are a weakness. I can't just change because you say so."

You stepped closer, your voice trembling with emotion. "Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I'm not scared? But I'm standing here, ready to face this with you. Y-You owe me that.."

Natasha's back remained turned to you, her shoulders shaking with suppressed emotions. "Look at me!" you demanded, grabbing Natasha's arm and turning her to face you. "Look at me and tell me you feel nothing. Tell me you don't care."

Natasha's eyes met yours, and for a moment, the cold mask slipped. Pain, fear, and something deeper flickered in her gaze. Then, with a hard swallow, she forced herself to speak. "I feel nothing for you or the baby," she lied, her voice hard and unyielding. "I can't and I won't."

Your hand flew up before you could stop yourself, slapping Natasha hard across the face. "Liar!" you screamed, your voice breaking. "You're just scared! You're a coward to admit it!"

Natasha's cheek burned, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the inner turmoil. "I'm not a coward," she hissed, anger flashing in her eyes. "I'm realistic. This will never work."

"Stop pretending you're a heartless monster!" you screamed, tears streaming down your face. "You care, I know you do. You're just too scared to admit it."

"Get out," Natasha said coldly, turning away again. "Just go." Your heart shattered at her words. "I can’t believe it.“ you spat, your voice trembling with anger and pain. "Fuck you, Natasha.“

With those words, you stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind you. As you walked down the hall, tears flowed freely, each step heavy with a mix of anger, despair, and heartbreak.

Back in the room, Natasha stood motionless, her mind a whirlwind of emotions she had learned to suppress. She clenched her fists, fighting the urge to break down. Deep down, she knew you were right. She did care. But admitting it, facing it, seemed an insurmountable challenge. For now, she remained alone with her guilt and fear, the echo of your words ringing in her ears.

You stormed down the hallway, your vision blurred by tears. You were determined to get to your room, to hide from the world and the pain of Natasha's rejection. As you turned the corner, you almost collided with Maria.

"Y/n, hey, what’s going on?" Maria asked, concern in her eyes as she saw your tear-streaked face and trembling form.

"Natasha is a fucking asshole, that's what’s going on." you spat, trying to wipe away your tears, only to smear them further. Maria gently took your arm and guided you to a nearby bench. "Sit down and tell me what happened."

You sank onto the bench, your anger and pain bubbling over. "I told her. I told her I'm pregnant, and she... she just pushed me away. She said she feels nothing for me or the baby. She's too scared to admit she cares, and she's a total coward for it."

Maria listened quietly, her expression a mix of sympathy and understanding. "Natasha has a lot of baggage, Y/n. She's been through things most people can't even imagine. That's not an excuse for her behavior, but it's part of why she reacted the way she did."

"I don't care about her damn baggage!" you snapped, though your voice softened as you continued. "I just thought... maybe, just maybe, she would step up. But she's running away."

Before Maria could respond, Nick Fury appeared around the corner, his usual authoritative presence filling the hallway. "Hill, L/n. I've been looking for you both. We have a mission that needs to be handled."

You stood up abruptly, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. "I'm in. Whatever it is, I'm in." Maria interjected, her concern evident. "Nick, I don't think Y/n should go. She's... she's been through a lot right now. It's not safe."

"I'm fine," you insisted, your voice firm. "I need a distraction, and a mission sounds perfect." Fury looked between the two of you, sensing the tension but not pressing further. "Alright then. Briefing in ten minutes. Be ready."

As Fury walked away, Maria turned back to you. "Are you sure? You're not exactly in the best state right now."

"I need the distraction," you insisted. "I need to think about something other than her." Maria sighed and squeezed your shoulder gently. "Okay. But be careful out there. And remember, you're not alone."

Meanwhile, in Natasha's quarters, Clint had overheard every word of the explosive argument between you and Natasha. He knocked gently before entering, finding Natasha pacing angrily, her face twisted with self-loathing.

"Hey," Clint said softly, closing the door behind him. "Are you okay?" Natasha looked up, her eyes red but defiant. "What do you think, Barton?" Clint sat on the edge of the bed. "You really messed up, Nat."

"I know," Natasha spat, her voice full of anger, mostly at herself. "But I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to be what she needs."

Clint sighed, watching her pace. "You're not a monster, You've been through hell, but that doesn't mean you can't change. That doesn't mean you can't try to be there for Y/n and the baby. Your Baby, Nat, congratulations..“

"She hates me," Natasha said, her voice full of despair. "I saw it in her eyes."

"She's angry, and she has every right to be," Clint said softly. "But that doesn't mean it's too late. You need to talk to her. Really talk to her. Let her in."

Natasha shook her head, her frustration boiling over. "I can't do that, Clint. I'm not capable of being a mother. I was trained to kill, to manipulate, not to love or care for a child. I don't know how to be anything else."

Clint stood up and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "Listen to me. You're not just what they made you. You're more than that. Look at me, Nat. I have my own demons, but I have a family too. It's hard, and it's scary, but it's worth it. You don't have to go through this alone."

Natasha's eyes filled with tears, but she fought them back. "How did you do it? How did you become a father with everything we've been through?"

Clint's expression softened. "It wasn't easy. I was terrified when Laura told me she was pregnant with Cooper. But we took it one day at a time. I had to learn how to be a father. I had to let myself love, despite all the shit we've been through. And you can too."

"I don't know if I can," Natasha whispered, her voice breaking. "I don't want to hurt her or the baby."

"You won't," Clint said firmly. "But you have to be willing to try. Y/n won't wait forever. You need to make a choice." Natasha nodded slowly, a sense of determination flickering in her eyes. "I have to make this right."

Clint squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Then start by talking to her. Really talking to her. That's the only way."

As Natasha sat in the silence of her room, you were already preparing for the mission, your mind a storm of emotions. You were determined to throw yourself into the upcoming task, to forget Natasha if only for a while. But deep down, you knew the pain wouldn't fade so easily.

Two days had passed since the explosive argument. Natasha had spent most of that time in a daze, replaying the fight over and over in her mind. The words, the emotions, the raw pain in your eyes haunted her. Clint's words echoed in her mind too, urging her to face her fears and take a step forward.

She knew she needed to talk to you, to try and make things right. She couldn't let fear continue to dictate her actions. With newfound determination, Natasha set out to find you, hoping that you could finally have a real conversation.

But as she walked through the halls of the Tower, she couldn't find you anywhere. She checked the training rooms, the common areas, even your quarters, but there was no sign of you. Natasha’s frustration and worry grew with each passing minute.

On her way back to her room, she overheard a conversation between two agents in the hallway. “Did you hear about the team that got captured on the mission a few day ago?” one agent said.

“Yeah, Fury’s trying to come up with a rescue plan,” the other agent replied. „I was almost sent with..“ Natasha’s heart skipped a beat. She stepped closer, her voice filled with urgency. “Which team? Who got captured?”

The agents looked surprised to see her. “Uh, it was the team that went out yesterday. Agent L/n was leading it.” It felt like the ground had been pulled out from under Natasha. “Where’s Fury?” she demanded.

“In the briefing room,” one of the agents replied.

Without another word, Natasha sprinted to the briefing room. She burst through the door, her heart pounding in her chest. Fury, Maria, and several other senior agents were gathered around a table, maps and plans spread out before them.

“Fury, what happened?” Natasha asked, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. He looked up, his expression serious. “We’re working on it, Natasha. We need to stay calm.”

“Calm?” Natasha snapped, her eyes blazing. “Y/n is out there, captured, and you’re telling me to stay calm?”

Maria stepped forward, trying to soothe the situation. “Nat, we’re doing everything we can to get them back. We’re working on a plan.”

“Working on a plan?” Natasha’s voice broke, her hands clenched into fists. “We need to get her out now!”

“Did I miss something here?” Fury asked firmly. Maria glanced at Natasha and back at Fury. “Y/n is pregnant, Nick.”

Fury’s expression hardened. “What? Why wasn’t I informed of this? L/n shouldn’t have gone on the mission!” The room fell silent until Fury spoke again. “Alright, we can’t rush into this. We need to make sure we know what we’re getting into. If we go in blind, we risk losing everyone.”

“I’m going,” Natasha said, her voice leaving no room for argument. Fury shook his head. “No, you’re too close to this. I’ll assemble a team.”

Natasha took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “Nick, please. I can do this. Just tell me where and when.” Fury considered for a moment, looking at the maps in front of him. “You need to keep your emotions in check, Natasha. If you go in there and let your feelings cloud your judgment, you’re no good to anyone.”

As the team finalized their plans, Natasha’s thoughts raced. She couldn’t lose you. Not like this. She had to make things right, to tell you how she really felt. She couldn’t let fear dictate her actions any longer.

The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a single flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, blood, and fear. Your hands were tightly bound behind your back, your body aching from the rough treatment you had endured.

You could hear the faint sounds of your team being tortured in the adjacent room. Their screams echoed through the walls, each cry of pain a dagger to your heart. You tried to stay strong, to keep calm for the sake of the little human growing inside you. But the fear was overwhelming.

The door to your cell creaked open, and a man stepped in. You recognized him immediately. He was a notorious interrogator, known for his cruelty. Your heart raced as he approached, a sinister smile on his lips.

“Well, well,” he said, his voice dripping with malice. “Look who we have here. And I hear you’re expecting a child. How… interesting.” You glared at him, refusing to show any sign of weakness. “What do you want?”

The man chuckled, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. “Oh, I’m not here for information. I’m here to make sure you understand the gravity of your situation.”

He crouched down in front of you, his face only inches from yours. “I’ve heard you’ve been quite a thorn in our side. But now, you’re just a scared little girl with a baby on the way. How touching.”

Your jaw clenched. “You’re wasting your time. I won’t tell you anything.” The man’s smile widened. “Like I said, I’m not here for that. I already know more than enough. For example, I know about the tracker in your shoulder. We can’t have your friends finding you too easily, can we?”

Your eyes widened in shock as he lifted the knife and brought it to your shoulder. You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing you scream. The pain was unbearable as he cut into your skin, removing the tracker with cruel precision.

“There we go,” he said, holding up the bloody device. “No more interruptions. Just you and me.” Your vision blurred with tears of pain, but you forced yourself to stay strong. “You won’t break me.”

The man laughed softly, his eyes darkening with madness. “We’ll see.”

He reached out, placing a hand on your stomach, his touch sending a wave of nausea through you. “And how is the little one? It must be hard, carrying a baby while being held captive.” Your anger flared, but you kept your voice steady. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

“Oh, but I must,” he said, his voice dripping with mock concern. “We wouldn’t want anything to happen to the baby, would we?”

He pressed the knife against your skin, just enough to draw a thin line of blood. “You see, I know all about you and your precious Avengers. I know they’re out there, planning to rescue you. But they won’t be here in time. Not before I have my fun.”

You tensed, your heart racing. “You’re a monster.” He grinned, leaning closer. “And you’re my plaything.”

Natasha moved with practiced ease through the shadows, her heart pounding as she approached the abandoned warehouse where you were being held. The intel she had gathered painted a grim picture: The man who had captured you was known only as “The Devil,” a nickname he had earned for his reputation for sadistic cruelty. His real name was Anton Volkov, a former KGB agent who had gone rogue and plunged into a life of crime and terror. The team split up and surrounded the house.

Inside, you flinched again, your body tensing at his touch. “Get your filthy hands off me!” you hissed, your voice defiant despite your fear.

Volkov chuckled, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your stomach. “Oh, I won’t harm your little one. Not yet, anyway. I just want you to understand how powerless you are.” His hand lingered for a moment before he stepped back, his eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure.

He turned and picked up a knife again from a nearby table, the blade glinting menacingly in the dim light. Your heart raced as you watched him, your mind screaming at you to stay calm. The knife wasn’t meant for your baby, that much, Volkov had made clear but it did little to soothe the fear gripping you.

With slow, deliberate movements, Volkov approached you again. He knelt down, bringing the knife to your thigh, and you couldn’t suppress a shudder. “Do you know what I find fascinating?” he said casually, as if discussing the weather. “The resilience of the human body. How much pain it can endure before it breaks.”

He pressed the blade against your skin, and you gasped as it cut into your flesh. Blood welled up, dark and thick, running down your leg. Volkov watched with sadistic delight, his eyes never leaving your face. “I’ve learned so much from watching people suffer. It truly is an art.”

The knife moved higher, toward your stomach, and your breath caught in your throat. Volkov’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. “But don’t worry. I won’t kill you. Not yet.”

With a swift motion, he plunged the knife into your side, just below your ribs. The pain was blinding, a hot, white flash that stole your breath away. Blood poured from the wound, soaking your clothes and pooling on the floor. Volkov’s face lit up with ecstatic fascination as he watched the life drain from you.

“Not lethal, but painful,” he murmured, twisting the blade cruelly before pulling it out. His smile widened. “Beautiful.”

Your vision blurred, the pain overwhelming your senses. You fought to stay conscious, your thoughts drifting to Natasha. Despite everything she had said, despite the harsh words and cold rejection, a part of you still hoped she would come. That she would save you.

As darkness closed in, you heard the faintest sound, footsteps moving silently through the shadows. Volkov hadn’t noticed, too absorbed in his sadistic pleasure. But you knew. She was here.

The next moments were a blur of violence and chaos. Natasha moved like a ghost, each of her movements precise and deadly. She dispatched Volkov’s guards with brutal efficiency, her eyes never leaving your tortured face. When she reached the room where you were held, Volkov turned slowly, sensing her presence.

“Why would SHIELD send their precious Black Widow for a simple rescue mission?” Volkov mused aloud, a dark smile playing on his lips. “Interesting.”

Natasha’s eyes fixed on you, her heart breaking at the sight of your battered and bloodied body. She forced herself to stay calm, but the rage simmered beneath the surface.

Volkov noticed her reaction, a glint of recognition in his eyes. “Aahh, I understand,” he said, stepping closer to you and placing a cruel hand on your stomach. "You care about her, don't you? So more than just a fleshlight..“

Natashas wondered how he knew all this. Her fists clenched, her knuckles turning white. "Get away from her. You’re surrounded." she growled.

Volkov laughed, a cold sound that echoed through the room. "So, you're the other parent," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "How touching. Tell me, Natasha, how does it feel to be so powerless?"

He pressed the knife against your stomach, drawing a thin line of blood. You flinched, your eyes pleading with Natasha to stay calm.

But Volkov was relentless. "I wonder how much more you can endure," he said, applying more pressure. "How much more before you beg for mercy?"

Natasha's resolve broke, her emotions boiling over. "Stop it!" she pleaded, her voice cracking. Volkov's smile widened. "So, it is true. You do care." He leaned closer to you, his eyes never leaving Natasha's. "See, Y/n, your lover is here to save you! But I wonder, how far will she go to protect you and your unborn child?"

Your eyes filled with tears, your voice desperate. "She won’t tell you anything. " Volkov's grip on the knife tightened. "Oh, well see. " he said, his voice cruel and mocking. "Because if she doesn't, I might just-“

"I'll do whatever you want," Natasha interrupted, her voice deadly calm. "Just let her go."

Your eyes widened in surprise. Why does she care of a sudden? Where is the Natasha from a few Days ago? And Volkov's eyes gleamed with triumph. "That's better," he said, pulling the knife away but leaving another shallow cut on your stomach. "You see, Natasha, pain is a powerful motivator. And now you'll do exactly as I say."

Natasha's eyes met yours, a silent promise passing between you. "I won't let him hurt you," she whispered, her determination hardening.

"I'm in position."

Natasha raised her hands until an arrow flew past Volkov and distracted him. In that moment, Natasha saw her opportunity. With a sudden burst of energy, she lunged at him, using every ounce of her training and fury.

Volkov, caught off guard by her ferocity, struggled to keep up. Natasha's movements were a blur, her strikes precise and deadly. She fought with a desperation that only a mother protecting her child could muster.

Clint and the team took down Volkov's remaining guards and secured the area. "Natasha, we've got them all. Get Y/n out of here," came through the comms.

In the end, Natasha overpowered Volkov, delivering a final, devastating blow that left him on the ground, barely conscious. She stood over him, her chest heaving with exertion and anger. She delivered one last, bone-crushing kick to his ribs.

With Volkov incapacitated, Natasha turned her attention to you. Her eyes softened as she took in the sight of your battered and bloodied body, but still alive. She quickly cut through your bonds, her hands gentle despite the urgency.

"Hey," she whispered, cradling your face in her hands. "I'm here. I'm so sorry. I'm here." Your eyes fluttered open, a weak smile tugging at your lips. "Took you long enough.." you murmured, your voice barely audible.

Natasha's heart ached at your condition, but she forced herself to stay focused. "We need to get you out of here," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "Can you walk?"

With Natasha's help, you managed to stand, her touch surprisingly tender. But your legs gave away, and Natasha caught you. "Alright, come here." She lifted you into her arms and carried you out.

"Let's get her to the Quinjet," Clint said, his voice urgent but calm. "She needs medical attention now." As they made their way out of the warehouse, Clint cast one last glance at the chaos they had wrought. "We'll make sure Volkov doesn't get up again," he said, his voice grim. "Let's move."

---

Your eyes opened slowly, the harsh white light of the medical station making you blink. You could hear the soft beeping of monitors and feel the warmth of blankets covering you. As your vision cleared, you saw Natasha sitting beside you, her eyes red-rimmed and filled with a mix of relief and worry.

"Hey," Natasha said softly, reaching out to touch your hand gently. "You're awake." You blinked, trying to sit up, but wincing at the pain still coursing through your body. "T-The baby...?"

Natasha's expression softened, a small, relieved smile appearing on her lips. "The baby's fine. Strong, just like her mother." she said, trying to inject some lightness into her tone.

But you didn't laugh. The memory of your last fight, Natasha's cold rejection of your child, still hurt deeply. You turned your head away, your silence speaking volumes.

Natasha's smile faded, replaced by an expression of deep remorse. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "Y/n, I want to talk. Please let me explain why I reacted the way I did."

You remained silent, but your eyes flicked back to Natasha, a sign that you were listening. "I've made so many mistakes in my life," Natasha began, her voice trembling slightly. "I was trained to be a weapon, to be cold and distant. Love and family were concepts beaten out of me. I thought... I thought if I kept my distance, if I didn't let myself feel, I could protect you."

Natasha swallowed hard, tears filling her eyes. "But I was wrong. So, so wrong. When you told me you were pregnant, I panicked. I didn't know how to handle it. I was scared. Scared of loving, scared of being a mother. I said those terrible things because I thought it would be easier if I pushed you away."

Your expression softened, your eyes filling with tears as well. Natasha continued, her voice breaking. "I grew up in a world where love was a weakness, where family was used against you. I didn't want that for you or our child. But I see now that pushing you away was the worst thing I could have done. I'm so sorry, Y/n. I let my fear control me, and I hurt you."

She took a shaky breath, her eyes pleading with you. "I want to be there for you, and for our baby. I want to try, if you'll let me. I know I have a lot to make up for, but I promise, I'll do everything I can to make it right."

Your tears flowed freely now, but you reached out and took Natasha's hand, squeezing it tightly. "I understand, Natasha. Really. But it hurt so much to hear those things from you. I was scared too. Scared of raising this baby alone, scared of losing you."

Natasha nodded, her own tears streaming down her face. "I know. And I can't undo what I said, but I can try to be better. I want to be a part of this. I want to be a family."

You looked into Natasha's eyes, seeing the sincerity and vulnerability there. It wouldn't be easy, but for the first time, you felt a glimmer of hope. "Okay," you whispered. "We'll try. Together."

„R-Really?“ Her heart swelling with a mix of love and determination. "Thank you," she whispered. "I won't let you down."

As you both sat in the quiet of the medical wing, holding each other, you knew the road ahead would be challenging. But with Natasha by your side, you felt a renewed sense of strength and hope for the future. "Natasha, there's something else," you said, taking a deep breath. "it will probably be a girl. The doctors cannot guarantee anything, but so far it looks like..“

Natasha's eyes widened, and despite her efforts to hold them back, a tear escaped. "A girl?" she repeated, her voice trembling with emotion.

You nodded, smiling through your own tears. "Yes, a girl. Our daughter." Natasha wiped away the tear that ran down her cheek, her heart close to bursting with joy. "A daughter," she whispered, the word feeling both foreign and wonderful on her lips.

She looked at you, her eyes shining with awe and gratitude. "Thank you for giving me a second chance," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I promise, I will be the mother she deserves. And I will be there for you, every step of the way."

You squeezed Natasha's hand, feeling a new unity and strength between you. "I know you will, Natasha. I believe in you. In us."

And so, in the quiet of the medical wing, surrounded by the beeping of monitors and the sterile smell of disinfectant, you and Natasha began a new path together. A path of healing, love, and hope for the future you would build as a family.

[rninies]

✮ so you do like me - gojo satoru

synopsis: you and gojo confess in an unexpected situation.

warnings: fluff, chaotic reader and gojo, gn!reader, gojo is tiny bit oblivious — wc: 746

notes: i love oblivious gojo i think hes so stupid (affectionate)

gojo satoru is annoying.

you’re saying this as his best friend who’s been with him for years, and even though you’ve been friends for that long, he’s never failed to annoy the shit out of you. there’s never a day where he doesn’t bother you about the stupidest stuff ever — you remember getting a call from him at three in the morning asking if you had any spare hand soap at your place (you got mad at him for a day for that).

hearing satoru sigh for the tenth time today, you turned to look at him. “what is it? why are you so… gloomy today?”

“nothing,” he repeats the same answer he gave you two minutes ago which makes you sigh as well, giving up on asking any more questions. when he sees your uninterested eyes, he sits up straight. “okay, well, i have this problem and you’re my closest friend but-” satoru groans, leaning back against the chair and placing a hand over his face.

that piqued your interest. “but?”

“it’s hard.” satoru shakes his head in distress. “it’s so annoying i can’t talk about it.”

your eyebrows furrowed. “what do you mean you can’t talk about it? you can always talk about anything with me.”

“no, see! that’s the problem here.” satoru stands up and walks towards you. “do you know how goddamn hard it is having a crush on someone and not being able to talk about it with the only person you want to talk to it about because it’s about them?” he exclaims, frustrated at himself.

you paused. “yes, i do. i absolutely do and it’s horrible. trust me, satoru, i know.”

“how do you know? i’ve never seen you look at anyone with hearts in your eyes.” satoru narrows his eyes. “i’ve never even heard you talk about crushes ever since we became friends!”

“you’re so dense.” you sighed, finally mustering up the courage to say it. “it’s you, dumbass. i’ve had a crush on you like two weeks after we became friends. i’ve never talked about crushes with you because it’s you i have a crush on. how am i supposed to talk about being in love with you to you?”

“huh?” satoru freezes in his place, brain malfunctioning with the information you just gave him. “wait- huh?”

“take all the time you need, toru.” you crossed your arms, patiently waiting for satoru to say something coherent.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SOMETHING TO ME?” satoru bursts, arms flailing around. “we- why didn’t you say anything about having a crush on me? wasn’t i obvious with my feelings for you?! i thought you would’ve known about what i felt when i-”

“when you what?”

“when i gave you my last piece of chicken nugget!” he exclaims.

you paused. “seriously? you giving me your last chicken nugget is a sign of love?”

“have you never read or watched anything romantic? people would usually give up their last piece of their favorite food to their lover!” satoru asks, and you shake your head making satoru gasp. “you’re so uncultured.”

“um? i meant that i had never seen anyone do that. ever.” you replied. “you’re the one who’s watching weird “romance” movies!”

“don’t you dare call my romance movies weird! you just have to watch it with me and you’ll be in love immediately.” satoru huffs, walking closer to you so that you can smell his cologne. “so? what do we do now?”

“are you just going to stand in front of me and not ask me out on a date?” you asked, and satoru laughed, pulling you into a tight hug.

“so,” satoru says as soon as he removes his arms form you. “you had a crush on me, hm?”

you scoff. “as if you didn’t.”

“it is because i’m absolutely irresistible?” satoru gives you a smug smile.

“as if.” you reply. “no, it’s because you’re an idiot, and-” you paused, taking in a deep breath, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “and i can’t imagine life without you.”

“oh my god.” satoru gasps. “you’re such a romantic! aw, y/n!” he embraces you once more, but this time, you tripped and ended up falling on the bed, his figure crushing you.

“satoru-” you wheeze, slapping his back. “can’t breathe. let. go.”

“no way. i’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” satoru smiles down at you. “i love you.”

your ears turn red and you immediately look away. “...i love you too.”

taglist: @planetnini @xintre @kyoghurts (send an ask to be added!) <3

[inkspiredwriting]

The Day of Swapped Powers

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

In the dimly lit basement of the Umbrella Academy, Five Hargreeves and his wife Y/n were elbow-deep in an experimental project. Y/n, with her ability to read minds, and Five, the seasoned time traveler, were working on a device designed to enhance their powers temporarily. It was supposed to be a simple test, but, as with most things involving the Hargreeves family, things quickly spiraled out of control.

"Are you sure this is safe?" Y/n asked, eyeing the array of wires and glowing components skeptically.

Five, ever confident, waved her concern away. "Of course, it’s safe. I’ve triple-checked everything. What could possibly go wrong?"

Those words hung ominously in the air as they activated the device. There was a blinding flash, a strange crackling noise, and then silence.

When the smoke cleared, Y/n and Five blinked at each other in confusion.

"Did it work?" Y/n asked, touching her temples.

Five glanced at his watch, which now displayed an array of random dates and times instead of the usual readings. "I’m not sure. I don’t feel any different."

Just then, Five’s head buzzed with an overwhelming wave of thoughts—Y/n’s thoughts. "Did he forget our anniversary? What if this messes up our abilities permanently? Why does he always have to be so reckless?"

Five’s eyes widened. “Y/n, I can hear your thoughts!”

Y/n stared at him, her eyes widening in shock. “Wait, what? I can’t hear yours anymore!”

Five glanced at the mess of equipment, realization dawning on him. “I think we’ve swapped powers.”

Y/n’s mouth fell open as she processed this. “You mean I can time travel now?”

Five nodded, grimacing. “And I get to hear everyone’s innermost thoughts. Fantastic.”

The next few hours were a comedy of errors as Five and Y/n bumbled through their new abilities.

Y/n stood in the middle of the living room, attempting to blink across the room. She scrunched up her face in concentration, only to find herself standing on top of the coffee table, much to the dismay of Pogo, who was quietly sipping tea.

“Try focusing on where you want to go!” Five shouted from the other side of the room, nursing a headache from the mental chatter of his siblings.

“I’m trying!” Y/n replied, a mix of frustration and determination on her face.

With a deep breath, she managed to blink to the other side of the room—right into a wall. She slid down with a groan, rubbing her nose. “I think I broke something,” she muttered.

Five winced sympathetically, while also struggling to keep Klaus’s incessant mental babble out of his head. "I wonder if I left my sandwich in the fridge or if Luther ate it. Maybe we should have a séance later. Ooh, what’s Five doing?"

Five squeezed his eyes shut. “Klaus, could you please shut up?”

Klaus, lounging on the couch, raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything!”

“I heard you thinking,” Five snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And I don’t care about your sandwich.”

Klaus blinked. “Whoa, you’re reading my mind now? That’s… actually kind of creepy. Cool, but creepy.”

The rest of the day was no less chaotic. Five, now unable to block out people’s thoughts, found himself avoiding crowded rooms and anyone remotely agitated. He fled from Luther’s worries about him being a bad Leader, Diego’s brooding thoughts about his love life, and Allison’s musings about her career.

Y/n, meanwhile, was discovering that time travel was far more complicated than it looked. She tried jumping back to the living room, only to end up in her parents' bedroom. Her Mother's screams could be heard throughout the neighborhood

She reappeared in the living room, panting and wide-eyed. “You didn’t tell me there were so many things to consider when jumping!”

Five, who had taken refuge in the kitchen with a pair of noise-canceling headphones, looked at her sympathetically. “Welcome to my world.”

By evening, they had gathered in the living room with the rest of the family for dinner. Five was trying to block out the cacophony of thoughts, while Y/n was gingerly sipping on a glass of wine, hoping to steady her nerves.

“Are you okay?” Viktor asked, noticing Five’s pained expression.

“Just fine,” Five lied through gritted teeth. "When will this dinner end? If I hear one more thought about mashed potatoes, I’m going to scream."

Y/n shot him a sympathetic look. “We need to figure out how to reverse this,” she murmured.

“Agreed,” Five said, wincing as Klaus’s thoughts about unicorns and rainbows floated into his mind.

After dinner, they returned to the basement to work on the device. Y/n, with a newfound appreciation for the complexities of time travel, meticulously followed Five’s instructions. Five, on the other hand, tried not to get distracted by Y/n’s focused thoughts and their shared determination to fix the mess.

“Okay, try activating it now,” Five instructed, holding his breath.

Y/n flipped the switch, and the device whirred to life. There was another blinding flash, and then everything went silent.

They blinked at each other again. Five tentatively tried to blink across the room and succeeded without ending up in a wall. Y/n reached out with her mind, relieved that she could hear the thoughts of the people she loved.

“We’re back to normal,” Y/n said, exhaling in relief.

“Thank God,” Five muttered, rubbing his temples. “I don’t know how you deal with all that mental noise.”

Y/n laughed, stepping forward to hug him. “It’s not easy, but now I understand how much you handle with time travel. I’m impressed.”

Five returned the hug, a smile tugging at his lips. “I have a newfound respect for your abilities too.”

The next day, as Five and Y/n lounged on the couch recovering from their ordeal, Klaus sauntered in, a mischievous grin on his face.

“So, how was your day in each other’s shoes?” he teased, plopping down next to them.

Five rolled his eyes. “Let’s just say, never again.”

Y/n chuckled, squeezing Five’s hand. “It was definitely an experience.”

Klaus’s grin widened. “Maybe next time you can swap bodies instead. That would be hilarious.”

Five and Y/n exchanged horrified looks before bursting into laughter. No matter how crazy things got, they knew they could always count on each other, even if their powers were temporarily on the fritz.

As they cuddled together on the couch, exhausted but happy, Five realized that their love and partnership could withstand any challenge—even a day of swapped powers.