#order red boost

[missholson]

Red River (1948) dir. Howard Hawks I Shot Jesse James (1949) dir. Samuel Fuller

[lilborealis]

Hi, I'm Safaa, a mother of two girls. I'm living through the horrors of war here as you read my message. I'm fighting death and running with my two children, Tin and Naya, from one place to another to save their lives. I'm escaping a real genocide and the spread of diseases and epidemics. My husband is a journalist who was seriously injured in the head and almost killed while covering the events. I sincerely hope you can empathize with our dire situation and consider supporting us. Your generosity has the potential to make a huge difference.

Please donate and/or share 🙏🏻

https://gofund.me/67b7fd56

Please! Boost this so she can get help!

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Hot Wings

A new restaurant opens in Metropolis, boosting the best chiken wings this side of the country. It's a family business run by four siblings, but the owner is the second youngest, a nice young man named Danny Fenton.

He has twenty-two flavors to choose from that vary in spice. The spiciest is called "Ghost King," and the least spicy one is "Box Ghost." It's supposed to be very hard to handle the Ghost King wings, and Danny even claims Metas have a hard time handling them.

Clark tries it out with Jimmy and Lois on their shared lunch break. While both of his co-workers can't handle more than one bite, Clack can stomach three before tapping out. Danny adds his face to the wall dubbed "Ghost Court" despite the fact he couldn't do all eight.

Clark is surprised that he's the only one on there and gets placed at "Court Jester" for the number of wings he could handle. Despite the spice, the regular buffalo (or Johnny's 13) he ends up getting afterward is the best he's ever had.

The trio returned the following week for lunch, all trying a new flavor slightly higher on the spice meter. It makes his taste buds sing in the same way only Ma could accomplish.

King's Ghostly Wings rapidly becomes Clark's favorite place. He takes Conner with him the next time his brother visits and has a laugh when Conner attempts the Ghost King challenge. Conner could handle two, so he sadly didn't end up on the wall.

Conner doesn't seem to mind as he attempts to flirt with the waitress, Jasmine, who only laughs off his flirtations as Pa had beaten how to properly treat women into Conner's head. Clack watches with amusement as his clone's attention is quickly overcome by the Ember Wings he ordered (He thinks there are nine different hot peppers in there), acting like he never had real food until then.

A month later, Clark walks into King's Ghostly, smiling at Elle (Her full name is Danielle because her parents decided on a theme after Jasmine. It's Dan, Danny and Danielle.)

She sits next to the challenger wall, and he is mildly surprised to see more faces now. He no longer holds the Jester position. Instead, there is the smiling face of Stephine Brown, face red, eyes watery, and sweaty but gleeful. The words "Three and a half" indicate why she pushed him out.

Next to her is the Knight, held by a smirking Duke Thomas, proudly stating he managed four but he looks just as worn down as Stephine.

This is followed by the Grandmaster, who shows Jason Todd giving two thumbs-ups and tears streaming down his face; he managed five. Then there is Steward, who shows Tim Drake's half-dead face, looking like he was about to hurl, but his fingers are held up in the count of six.

The Queen position is a tie between one haughty Damian Wayne, looking to be glaring at the wings before him, and a mid-laugh Dick Grayson, who looks like he is having the time of his life with tears also streaming down his face. Seven each.

The King belong to Bruce Wayne who looks just as handsome and sauve as he would any photoshot. There is a half eaten wing in his mouth, while the man winks at the camera. Ariund him are plates with chicken wing bones. The count under his name shows fifteen.

Clark stares, then reaches for his cell phone. The call rings only three times before Bruce's strong voice goes through, dragging out the last word in a a cheerful shout

"What's up, ya slut!?" Great. Brucie voice. This means Bruce is in fornt of people who still think he's a airhead playboy.

"Bruce? Did you and your kids take the Ghost King wings challenge in Metropolis?" He asks anyway, because there is no way the bats were able to stomach this. How are they human?

"Clark," Bruce drags out the ar in his name, sounding like he's spinning in an office chair. Distantly, he can hear some voices mutter under their breath in annoyance. Bruce was in a board meeting he was trying to get out of. "Of course, the kids and I tried that place. Tim's friend, Conner, took him once, and he just had to have us try out the wings. Some of the best I ever had, but that challenge wasn't that hard. Not that I wouldn't mind going for the second round. I'll try it again if you're asking me out, big guy."

Clark feels a shiver run down his spine. Sometimes, he wonders if Batman and his lot had lied to them. There was no way they were human. "Ugh, no, I just wanted to check because it's a really hard-"

"This Saturday? Of course, I'm free. I'll have Alfred watch the kids. Oh and Clark, wear that suit I got you. You know the one.'' Bruce purs in his ear making the alien sit up straighter. He fights the urge to look around, upon hearing the code that Bruce had beaten into his head since day one of Batman and Superman team ups.

Bruce wanted to investigate the establishment and needed Superman's help. But what could the Fentons have done to catch the caped crusader's attention cities away?

Blushing, because couldn't Bruce think of a better cover, Clark responds. "The one with the gold or the one with rose gold?"

"Oh suger, rose gold was made for you" Bruce sighs dramaticly, implying so much in only one sentence. The Fentons weren't human then.

Clark confirms with Bruce staying long enough on the phone to hear him brag to the uncomfortable board members about his farmer boy who will be a fun roll through the hay and winces. If their "date" gets exposed, he'll have a lot of explaining to do when Lois eventually catches wind.

She took the whole "I'm Superman" thing well, so maybe the "Bruce often implies I'm his gay plaything on the side to protect our identities" thing well, too? He should wait for when she doesn't have access to kryptonite, just in case.

"Here you are," Danny says, walking over with a tray. With a kind, relaxed smile, he places Clark's order in front of him. It's the same one he's grown used to since first coming here but for the first time Clark notices the sense of other hidden in his eyes.

Behind him Dan is working on some wings at the open bar where various kids are watching with wide eyes. If Clark stares hard enough he swears he can see the tip of his pony tail lift as if flouting. Elle is carying more then she should be able to lift, and he realized she was pretending to struggle with the overloaded dishes as she busted.

Jasmin is the only one that seems human, calmly cashing out a family at the register.

Of course Clark missed all the signs but the Bats clocked them, likely the very first time Tim walked in here with Conner.

"Thanks, Danny," He says, still mindful of his manners. Who knows, maybe they aren't up to anything. It's not a crime to not be human. He should know.

As Clark bites into his wings, he prays there are no crimes going on. He would be really sad to see his favorite lunch place gone.

[teddybeartoji]

toji taking little gumi to his first judo match and you know that toji is sitting in the first row with miki, cheering him on with strong words.

and by that i mean that he's not yelling, he's barely raising his voice but he the tone is just so confident, so sure and determined that it makes gumi feel stronger too. simple things like "c'mon, gumi." and "ya have him, ya have him." are enough to clear the boy's mind – there are so many sounds and noises all around him, he's not even the only one who's doing this right now. bright lights and what feels like a hundred pairs of eyes on him were distracting before, overwhelming. but when he sees his dad, clear as day, he knows he can do it.

taking a deep breath in, little gumi eyes his opponent while thinking about everything his old man has been teaching him. patience. the other boy is excited (though gumi is too) and he's more hyper, bouncing around, trying his best to grab onto megumi's attire but he keeps getting swatted away. toji's green eyes meet gumi's over the kid's shoulders and it's the final boost of confidence he needs – in two swift moves, megumi has the boy on the floor, signaling that the match has finally come to an end.

he hears the deep rasp and his head snaps to the voice.

"that's my boy."

he doesn't yell, he doesn't scream – toji now stands by the bleachers with a proud grin on his face with a cheerful miki right beside him. his voice is steady as ever as he praises his from the distance. megumi will never forget this moment.

(toji knows how flustered his son can get if he's under the spotlight and while it is, sometimes, fun to tease him just a little for it – he would never do it in a situation like this. he wants gumi to feel good about his win, he wants him to have fun. he wants him to feel proud of himself too.)

a tiny smile, the faintest one, creeps onto megumi's lips and toji's heart is about to give out. his boy. his son. his little blessing. he watches the coach? grab his tiny hand to rightfully end the match and to show the winner to the crowd around them and toji takes a mental picture of the sight.

gumi's hand reaches up high with the help of the man beside him and he looks like a proper winner. the little boy's cheeks are flushed red from the tussling and his outfit is all disheveled from being yanked around but he looks happy. toji couldn't be more pleased.

and then gumi makes his way over to his dad and sister with haste steps. his arms reach out for toji and he's quick to reciprocate, pulling his baby boy up into his embrace. he hold gumi's head to his neck, knowing that he likes to hide there whenever he's feeling a bit too much.

"ya did s'good, gumi."

tiny fingers dig into toji's sweatshirt and toji knows that megumi heard him. really heard him. he will, of course, keep saying it again and again throughout the day but right now, he just really needed to make sure that gumi knows.

tsumiki fiddles with the hem of gumi's pants and toji gives her a smile before ruffling her hair. her scrunched up face, makes the corners of his own lips tug ever wider as he rumbles out a chuckle.

"wanna go home now?"

toji scratches gumi's warm back in order to get an answer out of him and the only thing he gets is a nod against his neck. and that's more than enough.

[tonixe]

✿ good girl

`` a/n: this fic is inspired by princessbellecerise and sugerapplefairy, low-key reader being a little cute bimbo is living rent-free in my head like omg, like it's living in my brain.

warning: misogynistic coriolanus, smut, objectification, dumbification, creampie, spanking, bathroom sex, groping, kitchen sex, reader being a housewife, reader being a stupid little bimbo + nymphet.

pairing: coriolanus x bimbo!reader

word counter: 1.2k

ਏਓ ` Imagine being coriolanus stupid bimbo wife, it is easy to be with him. He gives you a stress-free, lavish life with money, expensive things, and jewelry. It was an easy choice for Coriolanus to pick you, you were attractive, with perfect curves sculpting on your petite body and dreamy tits propping up on your chest. It was easy to control your little empty head, he controlled what you do, money, and everything making sure your being a good little girl.

ਏਓ ` A good little housewife for him, you cook, clean for him, and wearing a cute light dress, and no panties or a bra underneath because you knew coriolanus hated not having easy access to you. Every time coriolanus came home, you were always awake, running a bath for him, but what would always happen would be him fucking you in the tub, soap suds covering your body. Your hands holding the sides of the bathtub, as he abused your cunt, mewls rolling off your tongue.

ਏਓ ` When coriolanus is stressed, you would always know what to do, taking his cock down your throat making you gag, tears pricking your waterline, moaning out. His hands force you down the shaft of his cock, facefucking you. Rolling your tongue at the tip of his cock, your lips bitten up, your mascara smudging your blushy cheeks, making eye contact with him as you took him whole.

ਏਓ ` he loves either making you swallow his cum or giving you a facial, his cock spurring cum onto your little cute face and your perky chest. On your knees like a whore for him, coated in his warm hot cum.

ਏਓ ` He loves groping your chest when he stressed, his rough hands twisting your delicate nubs making you squirm from his touch, clenching around nothing. Even fingering you, he enjoys dumbing you down, it stroked his ego. Your little screams and yelps, boosting his ego.

ਏਓ ` Your little play doll for him to change, shape, and form. He programs you to do things he wants, and you just nod your head at his words though you don't understand them, just giving him a smile on your lips. A sexual object for him to put his cock in and breed, as he spreads your legs apart, your delicate fingers already spreading your pussylips for him, ready to take his cock inside of you. Biting your lip, rolling your eyes as he plunges into you. Harsh comments slipped out of his mouth like 'Slut', 'whore' or 'Bitch' as he harshly fucked you, almost making you bleed.

ਏਓ ` When he's working on important papers for work, you would be his cocksleeve, his cock stuffed into your wet cunt. Slopping sounds coming from you, as he did his work. His cock bulging in your stomach, squirming around. Your cheeks being flushed, and your lips bitten up, all red. Your nipples poked out from the light fabric of the dress, whines coming out from your mouth and him just ignoring you as you tried to move but everytime he would purposely smack his pelvis into you, making you jolt.

ਏਓ ` Coriolanus loves to see his bimbo wife all dolled up in lingerie or short-dressed, making sure to order a bunch for you and giving you an extra amount of money to buy the special lingerie he likes. Bunch of reds, pink, and whites. All lacy, with bows, ribbons, some tights, and garters. Your body lying down on the bed, all dressed up for him to just ruin you.

ਏਓ ` Imagine being in the kitchen, making dinner for him and his hands just all over you, his lips on your neck, and him grinding on your ass. It was super hard for you to stay focused, trying to make him stop but you knew he wouldn't just for you to bend over, your dress flipped and fucked raw, his cock slipping in and out of you, your face on the cold porcelain counter.

ਏਓ ` He loves to edge you, slapping his cock onto your clit, watching you as you writhe being desperate to be filled.

ਏਓ ` He loves to punish you for stupid things just to emphasize his control over you, making sure you crawl on all fours, in your cami dress, while he sits on a red velvety couch, as you crawl to him looking up at him, with a sad expression, tears dripping down on your cheeks. You felt guilt about what you did, though you didn't know it yourself. Laying on your stomach, bent over on his lap. Your body was almost bare, just a light dress covering you. As he spanks you, your body jolts from the pain, fat tears dripping from your eyes, his hands slapping the plush of your ass. Your whines falling deaf on his ears.

ਏਓ ` When Coriolanus fucks he loves pulling by your hair, forcing you up as he plunges into you further, doggy style, his cock kissing your cervix deliciously. His finger slipped into your mouth, gagging your moans, being forced to breathe through your nose, his cock snapping into you.

ਏਓ `Coriolanus always track your cycle, making sure to cum into you a lot when your ovulating, so you'll be pumped with his warm cum burrowing into you further. He would love to see your stomach filled with cum, awaiting a baby. Your breast filled with milk, and your belly all round and big, even if you were pregnant he would still fuck you, just more gently, but still hard.

[rafeysbafey]

✮ EGO BOOST — ETHAN LANDRY

SUMMARY. ethan doesn’t understand why you’re limping

WARNINGS. soft!ethan, heavy implications of sex

WORD COUNT. 0.5k

ethan had come home riled up last night, complaining about how mindy kept targeting him when the group brought up ghostface.

usually sex with ethan was pretty vanilla, not that you ever complained, so last night when he came home angry—let’s just say he went a little harder than usual.

he had you in positions you didn’t even know your body could shape into, ethan letting a few secret kinks slip out as well, this including choking.

your body was being used all throughout the night, this unknown stamina coming out of nowhere with ethan.

so when you woke up sore, legs shooting with pain and neck aching from the grip he had on it, you weren’t surprised to why this was happening.

you were cuddled up in ethan’s arms, half the boys body weight practically engulfing yours as he laid sound asleep.

his face was tucked away in your neck, soft snores leaving his lips causing his breath to tickle your skin.

waking up with the need to pee, you slipped yourself out of his grip and sat yourself up—realizing you were dressed in only ethan’s T-shirt and a pair of panties.

you went to stand up but immediately hissed in pain, your hand jolting out to grab the nightstand as you stood there with shaking legs.

‘this is new,’ you thought to yourself before making your way to the bathroom.

you were only halfway across the room—limping slowly in order not to cause any additional pain—when you heard ethan stir awake.

he had watched you make your way over with worrying eyes, quickly standing up and making his way over to your limping figure.

“are you hurt? baby, what happened?” he asked hurriedly, concern laced in his voice as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

you leaned on him for support, a giggle leaving your lips as you peered up at him.

“eth, are you serious?”

his brows furrowed together as he asked again what was wrong, your heart melting at the thought of ethan genuinely not knowing why you couldn’t walk.

“you did this,” you said, confusion still present on his features as you continued, “last night.”

it only took a second before ethan’s face had blushed a deep red, a shy grin on his face as he looked down at you.

“I did this?”

“duh.”

you started to walk so he followed, letting you rest your weight on him as he helped you into the bathroom.

“i didn’t know i had that in me,” he mumbled, arm retreating from your waist to allow you to sit on the toilet.

you winced slightly at the feeling before looking up at him, a certain look on your face as you let out a sigh.

“trust me, neither did i.”

[accioscarheadthings]

ULTRAMINE ~ CHAPTER 6

kenji sato x reader

summary: professor sato suggests to get out of the house for a while, only to get ambushed by the kdf

pairings: kenji sato x fem!student!reader

warning: none, combat (?)

masterlist !

you strode down the corridors of the kdf headquarters, feeling an unusual sense of calm after your duty shift had ended.

missed calls from kenji and professor sato flooded your phone. but you didn't attend them. you didn't want to.

you passed by the conference area, pausing when you noticed a commotion inside.

you saw some of your colleagues gathered in the conference room, attacking kenji, professor sato and emi. the three of them seemed to have set up a camp near a lake.

drones had lined up, ready to fire. emi spun around, beak opening as she fired at the drones. the screen blacked out and all of them lost signal.

you grinned to yourself in satisfaction, glad that the training has worked, "that's my girl,"

'do we have more drones in the area?'

'yes, doctor. a short distance away,'

'send them. send them now!'

hearing dr. onda's orders and his stubborn demanding tone, you felt fear and concern surge within you, seeing how more drones were rounding up on them.

"shit, shit, shit!"

you hurried towards the exit, undecided on what you should do.

you wanted to help them, but you couldn't stand to face kenji again. his words triggered you so much that you were up all night, curling into yourself as your body trembled.

but at the same time, you didn't want emi and professor sato to get caught in the crossfire.

you headed towards the terrace of the headquarters, trying to make up your mind.

"fuck this," you stepped on the ledge of the building, plummeting into the air on your back.

your warbird suit closed around you, metal suit engulfing you until the mask closed over your face and your eyes lit up. your turbo thrusters at your feet boosted as you maneuvered through the night sky.

"those drones have direct feed videos to the kdf headquarters. we need to go, now," professor sato pressed.

"come on, sweetie. time to go," kenji urged emi.

but emi only whimpered, clutching at her chest. she slowly turned around, a red glow emitting from her body. she fell to her knees, reaching out with a cry as vivid colours of strings closed around her body, enclosing her in a cocoon.

kenji paniced, "what's happening? what wrong with her?"

professor sato assured, quite startled yourself, "she's entering the pupal stage. I didn’t know it would be this soon. she's changing,"

"changing? changing into what?!"

"not sure, but she's in a vulnerable state right now. we have to get her someplace safe," professor kenji announced, walking ahead.

"firing up the jet," mina declared.

"dad, as soon as the jet arrives-"

a distant whoosh was heard, signaling the approach of drones.

"dad!" kenji hollered.

"kenji!" professor sato reached a hand to him.

fire rained down all around the two as the drones surrounded them. the older man was thrown on his back from the effect, knocked unconcious.

kenji rushed to his side, crouching beside him, and tried to get him to wake up. when his father was unresponsive, kenji felt a bout of anger clouding his mind, pushing every rational thought out of his mind, "no!"

eyes blazing in anger, he sized up to his ultraman form, fist pulling back as he punched all the drones firing his way.

professor sato blinked his eyes open, making the blurry view of his son fighting the drones and missiles.

he smiled when he saw a streak of light directed his way, slumping back on the ground in relief.

you landed on the ground beside the professor in worry, "professor! are you alright?"

but he was barely able to reply and raised a shaky finger to point at emi's cocoon.

you followed, eyes bulging at the sight in front of you, "oh, she got into a pupal stage,"

just then, a drone skidded on the ground, ejecting a tracker on the wall of the cocoon.

you punched your fist into the drone, crushing it with your strength, and hurried to the pupa.

you placed a jammer on the tracker, making sure to disable the device.

a drone had locked target on you and was firing your way. you held up a hand to shield yourself, before shooting into the sky.

"gotcha," you grabbed the drone, crushing it in your hold.

"y/n!"

you froze mid-air at kenji's voice, your thrusters holding you up.

you looked over your shoulder to see the giant face of ultraman.

"w-what are you doing here?" kenji stammered, not expecting you to show up for help.

more fire rained down your way, interrupting your moment.

"get in the jet, now!" you hollered at him through the chaos, one palm raised as you sent a beam of laser at a drone.

"y/n, but you're-"

"go!" you urged him, glaring as you held up a palm beside his face, firing at a giant missile behind his head and making it explode.

kenji quickly shifted his father and emi's cocoon into the jet when after it arrived, while you covered for him.

you took a hard blow to your chest when a missile blasted at you, causing your thrusters to fail and you descended down the sky.

two giant metallic palms caught you; ultraman safely transferred you to the hatch of the jet, handing the last of the drones.

you propped yourself on your elbows, laying on your back.

just then, kenji's suit beeped, signaling he was about to shrink down, and leaped into the jet's opening after you.

kenji landed on top of you, arms catching himself on the floor at either side of your head, his body pressed against yours while your right knee was propped up, flanking him between your legs.

your warbird suit shifted back, revealing your brown tank top and cargo pants, sweat beading on your skin since you had hurried your way through the kdf headquarters for this man in front of you.

but mainly for the sake of emi and professor sato, you told yourself.

liar, another voice mocked.

"well," kenji peered down at you with a smirk, "this is familiar," a raven strand of hair fell on his forehead. you bit back the urge to brush it away.

you glared at him, reminding him of your last encounter and how it had ended with him ragefully shouting at you, inciting a panic attack and ultimately leading to your escape from his mansion.

his gaze softened, eyes conveying so much emotion. so many unspoken explanations.

"mina," he called the ai, bringing one hand to caress your cheek with the back of his hand, "take us home,"

after returning to kenji's mansion, professor sato was transferred to a life support cradle since he was still unconscious.

according to mina, he had taken several internal injuries and he was in a critical state. meanwhile, emi's status was... incomprehensible. none of you had any idea when she'd make it out of her pupa.

you stared at her cocoon, glancing at the professor in the life support cradle.

"I'm leaving," you declared, her voice tinged with remorse. "It's too dangerous to be around me,"

however, kenji firmly shook his head, his gaze locked on yours, "no," he said adamantly, "you're staying, and that's final,"

you opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a sharp glance.

"i'm not arguing about this," he stated firmly, "you're not leaving. we'll figure out how to keep you safe,"

you huffed, your irritation apparent, but he didn't budge. he told himself it was to keep you safe, but deep down, he knew his feelings went deeper than that.

"this isn't up for debate!" he said, his tone leaving no room for argument, "you're staying here, and you're going to let me protect you."

you retorted angrily, "i don't want to put you in danger," you strode away from him, spinning on your heels.

feeling frustrated, kenji caught your wrist, and suddenly pinned you against the wall, his hands wrapped firmly around your wrists.

you gasped at his action, feeling his body press against you and fix you in place. you blinked up at him, eyes wide and lips parted.

"sweetheart, look, i know you're capable and strong," he continued, eyes holding a hint of worry, "but I can't take the risk of something happening to you. i need to be here to protect you, to keep you safe. i know there's a chance that they could track me with you, but," he paused, "i'm willing to risk it if it means i can keep you safe by my side,"

you flashed your eyes in annoyance, trying not to focus on your close proximity. you could feel his breath on your cheek.

"and if i disagree with you?" you challenged.

kenji stepped back, letting your wrist fall at your sides.

you let out a yelp as your entire world turned upside down and you were thrown over his shoulder, body dangling while his arms held your knees to his broad chest.

"kenji!" you writhed against him, "let me go," you were flustered by him holding you in such a manner and you fought to keep your voice steady.

"no," kenji strutted down the hall, "not until you agree to stay here. and besides, i like carrying you like this," he added smugly.

he entered the room where you were staying when you last visited. he set you down on the edge of the bed, crouching to your level.

"look, i have a lot of things i wanna talk to you about and apologize for. and now, with dad-" his voice cracked. he shook his head, continuing, "you're the only one who can help me with emi. so please," he took both your hands in his, thumbs caressing your knuckles, "stay,"

you mulled over your options; he was right. he did need your help to handle emi, given the uncertainty of her cocoon's status. and so did professor sato.

you sighed in agreement, shoulders slumping in defeat, "alright,"

TAGLIST !

@earth-to-mee @sassy-cat-in-town @breaddippedinorangejuice @nuhteyam @gameboigyu @byunpum @jennypenny-19 @doublebunv @moonjellyfishie @m00nd0v3 @despacito-uwu16 @reivelmin @seyoran @warlike-morning @crimson-mage-02 @b3e-sat0 @miffysoo @t4naiis @lovingyeet  @imsimping4life @mmeerraa @btszn @jusmango-shak @yobriisstuff @goldenpoison @fruchtgeschmack @iateurdad16 @bandolls @lovingyee @reivelmin @f-ergj @arrozyfrijoles23 @aise-30 @simp-hub @armycaratlover @taleiak @ellie-x0xo @femmefqtqle @mp-buezo @bakugouswaif @berryjuicyy @f-ergj @aise-30 @marshhbs @star-flecked-soul @bontensbabygirl

[crispywaffles2]

hii, may I request macaque, wukong, and MK (seperately) x reader who likes to put ribbon bows on their tails? Thought it would be a cute idea ^_^

Hii!! Thank you so much for the request, this is such a cute thing to think about! I hope you enjoy! EDIT: I FORGOT TO WRITE MK IN THIS AS WELL, IM SO SORRY 😭

Macaque, Mk & Wukong With an S/O who likes to decorate their tails!

Wukong:

Wukong is most certainly confused by your strange habit

If you were to ask him to put a ribbon or bow on his tail, he'd give you a strange look

"A bow? Well... uh, sure bud!"

It doesn't really match his whole "Great Sage Equal to Heaven" schtick in his opinion

What would formidable enemies think if he went into battle with a cutesy bow on his tail??

His monkeys most certainly make fun of him for it, much to his dismay

He wouldn't wear it if he was about to go into battle or leave his mountain at first, because if his monkeys make fun of it who knows who else will do the same?

Eventually he'll warm up to it

If you tie a little orange ribbon at the end of his tail trust and believe he will be working it with pride

"Oooh, I like this color! Goes well with my fur,"

He'd start longingly staring at the sweet ribbons you tie on his tail whenever you're not around and he misses you because they remind him of you

He'll start wearing them out in public with a bit less shame, happily flicking his tail in peoples faces

"Look! My partner gave it to me, isn't it so cute?"

And he'll start wearing them in battles too!

Having a little piece of you there with him gives him just a little bit of an extra boost and reminds him of all of the things he's fighting for

Now he likes to think they go well with his personality

"Great Sage Equal to Heaven" whos not afraid to have a bit of a cutesy accessory while he kicks butt

If you're more sneaky with their placement though, that's a whole other story

He's out enjoying a nice bowl of noodles with his favorite mentor, only mentor honestly, and he hears them chuckle and point at his tail while uttering the words "Nice bow Monkey Princess,"

His face goes bright red and he quickly curls his tail around his leg to hide the thoughtfully tied ribbon from view

"Yeah, so what?! Maybe I was just feelin' a bit more elegant today, you ever think about that?"

But as soon as he bids Mk adieu he's right at your doorstep with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his face

An embarrassed scolding is in order for you, that's for sure

"Hun, you know I love you, but you can't just tie ribbons on my tail like that! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was when my mentor called me a princess?!"

Eventually he relents and you two end up in a hug, his go-to when reassuring you that he's not mad or he's sorry

"Just don't do it without telling me. Next time I could be faced with Macaque, and you know how he is."

All in all it takes him a bit of time to warm up to it, but after that he'll flaunt them, and you, with confidence

Macaque:

Macaque is a lot more reluctant than his sunny counterpart

He has a tough bad boy image to uphold, why on Earth would he let you bedazzle him with your silly ribbons and bows?

"A bow? No thanks darlin'."

It takes lots of begging and whining before he caves in, and even then he refuses to go out in them

You couldn't waterboard the information out of him, but when you finish carefully tying up the little red ribbon on the end of his tail he's in love

It goes well with his cape and adds a sort of air of sophistication onto his overall demeanor

It's probably just the inner drama queen in him speaking but it makes him feel weirdly fancy and extravagant

But again, he's not going to tell you that

He won't protest as much when you tie them on

Will suggest different colors and ways to tie the ribbons

"Why don't we try purple this time? No it's not because I care about what it looks like- it was just a suggestion!"

Sometimes he tries to put them on himself because he's embarrassed to ask you, but he quickly figured out that he cannot tie bows for the life of him

And even if he learns, they're just not the same as yours

He will eventually come around to the idea of wearing them in public

He keeps his ribbon clad tail hidden beneath his cape most of the time unless he's feeling particularly confident or he wants to show it off on purpose

If anyone has the gall to try and make fun of it he's quick to shoot them down

"Yeah I have a bow on my tail, my partner gave it to me. Aww, don't tell me you don't have a partner of your own? Is that why you think you're funny? Because you don't have anyone at home to tell you you're not?"

He warms up to the idea so much that he begins to regularly ask you to decorate his tail with multiple bows and ribbons

One time, as a silly joke, you tied a particularly big red bow at the base of his tail and jokingly told him he looked like a show cat

It was a funny joke, but Macaque really really liked it

So much so that he wore it regularly, asking you to tie it on for him every time he went out

If you were to be sneaky and tie it on his tail without him knowing well..

He's actually not that upset

He's hanging out with Mei, probably the one he likes and relates to the most out of everyone, when she giggles and points at his tail, calling him 'coquette' or something

He's not sure what that term means, but he does find the fact that a little pink bow being tied on his tail without his knowledge to be amusing

Just for funsies he keeps it on all day

If and when he decides to go visit the culprit, which he knows is you, he playfully chides you

"Alright sugarplum, you know I have an image to uphold! You can't just slip little pretty pink bows on my tail without my permission!"

Once you two have had a good laugh he just chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead

All in all he really likes the bows that you decorate him with and takes it as a sign of affection, but it takes a long time for him to be open about it

Mk:

Mk in his monkey form is certainly.. something

He can't quite control himself in that form yet, but that isn't to say that he's constantly violent

He just doesn't know his own strength

With his monkey form more stern and serious, he doesn't hold back, he's blunt

And, completely unrelated, his voice is like two octaves deeper

He's scared he might hurt you, or the people he cares about, so he rarely ever uses it unless he's in battle or training

In hopes of making him more comfortable and as a way of letting him know that you're okay with this side of himself, you began tying bows on the end of his tail

He's not sure how to feel about the idea at first

"Tying.. bows? Sure, I guess.."

He doesn't know if you don't take him seriously or if you're just trying to be sweet

He's still getting used to having a tail, so sometimes it gets caught on things, which will occasionally lead to your ribbons getting torn

It makes him feel horrible for some reason, and he's always presenting the torn fabric to you like it's the remains of a dead soldier or something

"I'm so sorry. It was an accident, I promise,"

He's not against wearing them out in public (not that he ever goes in public with his monkey form)

If it's after a battle and someone were to say anything about his bow he'd hardly care

"Looks like we got a funny guy over here everyone!"

And everyone in the vicinity glares at them

Much like his mentor, he slowly starts seeing the bows less as just some silly accessory on his tail and more as a subtle reminder of you

Whenever he's in his monkey form he makes sure to come to you for a bow

"I'm feeling kinda red-ish today, what do you think?"

Your plan works, and he starts feeling better about his over powered simian side

You love him no matter what, freakishly strong or just a silly delivery boy, and the bows are just a testament to that

All in all, he finds them adorable, and what they represent fuel him to fully embrace this side of himself in order to protect the people he cares about

[caninepoetryrelator]

Liquid Luck

Carl Grimes x Reader (16+)

Aged up Carl Grimes x Reader soft smut

Synopsis: Carl and you are not friends. So what’s gonna happen when you’re locked in a room together with a bottle of whiskey?

Warnings: Dick, dick getting sucked, no fully blown sex just oral, Carl is a cutie, also it’s a zombie apocalypse there’s gonna be zombies, plus various weapons and very brief nondescript violence.

Words: 3,843

It all started with a bad raid. We figured we could sneak into the pharmacy, get the medicine for Hershel, and then get out without attracting any attention.

Rick and Daryl stayed outside and kept watch while he sent you and Carl to take care of the rest.

That was it, straightforward, in and out.

Or at least it had been.

A week prior Glenn had put a boombox on the rooftop of the place to attract the walkers out and up instead of prowling the streets and the building.

The windows were almost all broken. Either by walkers or raiders, we didn’t know. But it sure was convenient when the door turned out to be locked.

You watched Carl adjust the brim of his hat and narrow his eyes at a broken square window a few feet above his head.

“I think I can fit,” he stated firmly, casting you a sidelong glance, quickly looking back at Rick when you made eye contact.

He had never been outright rude to you; he had never been anything to you. He had only introduced himself with a short greeting and a tight smile. He seemed much more open with everyone else yet standoffish around you.

“The kid can fit too,” agreed Daryl, nodding towards you. He’d always called you that despite you being the same age as Carl.

Carl’s face dropped as he glanced at you again. “I can do it by myself.”

“No, you can’t,” ordered Rick. “We don’t know how many walkers are still in there. You’re taking her with you.”

He sighed. Did he really not like you this much?

Before you had come to a conclusion Daryl had laid a leather jacket over the jagged glass in the frame before he and Rick boosted Carl into the window.

“I’ll make sure it’s safe!” He hollered from inside the building. There was some scuffling inside for a moment before he yelled “It’s clear!”

Next thing you knew you were standing in their respective interlaced fingers and they boosted you up to the window. You grabbed the edges and dove in. It wasn’t until you let go of the window frame that you realized that you, unlike Carl, were falling face first instead of feet first.

Luckily, you were met with the last type of relief you expected. Carl grabbed your waist, slowing your descent enough to use your own momentum to turn you so you landed on your feet. His hands linger on your waist as you stand chest to chest with him. You look up at him through your lashes, breathing heavily. His face is red, probably from exertion.

Just before you can thank him he pulls quickly away, looking down nervously. You lower your head into his line of sight so that he makes eye contact with you.

“Thank you,” you say with a smile.

He nods shortly before taking out his knife and heading towards a door. “This way.”

You follow him, Michonee’s old sword she had given you in hand as you follow him closely, checking your surroundings avidly. Both of you continuously glanced up at the ceiling, which creaked under the weight of anywhere from fifty to one hundred walkers.

Your shoe nudged something on the ground— a bottle of whiskey. You quickly stooped and picked it up, putting it in one of the pockets of your oversized cargos.

You make your way to the back of the building, into the section where the pills are stored.

“What are we looking for again?” You ask.

“Promethazine, it’s anti-nausea medication for throwing up. Hershel’s worried the vomit from people with the flu in town could make it more contagious.” He replies, examining bottles instead of looking at you.

With a soft frown at his bland attitude, you wander to the ‘P’ section, browsing for promethazine.

You found five prefilled prescriptions made out to various, probably now dead, people.

“Carl,” you call, holding up a handful of amber pill bottles.

“Nice one,” he says, a genuine smile on his face. The first time he’s smiled at you. It was a nice smile. You felt your face heat up as you smiled as well.

Carl turned around for you to put the meds in his backpack. You brush his hair out of the way and he whips his head around immediately.

“W-what’re you doing back there?”

“Making sure your hair doesn’t get caught in the zipper,” you reply simply.

He relaxes as you unzip the bag and place the medications inside.

Just as you were zipping the beg, a loud creaking sound resounded from the ceiling. Carl and you glanced at each other with wide eyes.

“This way,” he commanded, taking your hand and leading — practically dragging — you through the pharmacy. The thumping on the roof was becoming more prominent and you could hear gunshots from outside.

You were practically running now as the sounds became nearly overwhelming. You were near the doctor's office section of the building when the ceiling began to give.

“Shit,” you muttered as the ceiling tiles began to fall.

Carl’s hand was on your waist again, this time snatching you out of the way of something falling— a walker, collapsed on the ground where you had just been standing.

Everything was happening so fast, and next thing you knew the ground was littered with walkers, all focused on the two of you. Your sword could only do so much as you slashed at the hoard, managing to take out two in one blow as you attempted to keep them at bay.

When Carl’s hands were on your waist again this time you didn’t question it— he snatched you backwards and into a room, where he slammed the door closed and locked it.

It was a check up office; it contained white brick walls and linoleum tile. In the corner was an oak desk with a monitor and sanitary supplies stacked on it. There was a cot against the opposite wall and various equipment hanging from the walls.

The thudding at the door where Carl stood jarred you back to reality, spurring you to grab the desk and shove at it. It had to be at least four hundred pounds. Carl pulled from the other side and together you managed to use it to barricade the door. He collapsed against the cot, panting.

You joined him, holding up your hands in a calming gesture as he looked at you with a shaky, nervous expression.

“Well, shit,” he muttered with an ironic chuckle.

“Probably gonna be in here for a while,” you sighed.

“Yeah,” he muttered bitterly.

Why don’t you like me?

The words almost came out of your mouth, but it wasn’t the right time. Instead you just looked at him, with a resigned expression.

You take the whiskey from your pocket and open it, taking a swig. After drinking with Daryl it didn’t phase you too much anymore, but he stared at you with a shocked expression, cheeks dusted pink.

“Where did you get that?”

“Store,” you replied simply, holding out the bottle to him.

After a moment of hesitation he took it, taking a swig with a grimace. “How do you drink that shit?” He laughs.

He laughed. A real laugh. It’s your first time hearing it. You want to hear more of it.

“Daryl,” you explain simply and he nods with a groan.

“I see,” he takes another drink and passes the bottle back to you.

It’s called liquid courage for a reason, you think. That’s all the convincing it takes for you to start chugging the bottle. You get about five swallows down before Carl’s hands, one on the bottle and one on your jaw, stop you from going further.

“Don’t overdo it,” he chides you gently.

You nod dumbly, watching a drop make its way down his neck, tracing his adam’s apple as he takes another drink. You notice the way his lips pucker around the mouth of the bottle and you force yourself to look away.

After a moment of silence he speaks again.

“Wanna play truth or dare?”

You look at him in surprise, hesitating for a moment.

“Only if you want to—” he starts nervously before you cut him off with a simple statement.

“Sure.”

He looks at you in relief, clearly afraid to have overstepped before smiling, a bit anxiously. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you don’t hesitate; they really do call it liquid courage for a reason.

He glanced around the room before his eyes land on the stethoscope. “I dare you to give me a checkup?” He phrases it as a question so you don’t feel forced. Cute.

You grab various medical equipment, wrapping the stethoscope around your neck with a drunken grin. “I’m your doctor, I’ll be giving you your physical,” you say in your best attempt at a deep voice. You were clearly already drunk. Normally you would’ve felt stupid but with the heartwarming giggle he let out paired with an over dramatic eyeroll, you felt nothing but at ease.

As you begin measuring his heart rate he swallows hard, his pink cheeks darkening to red. His heart thumped steadily; quickly.

“Truth or dare,” you murmur as you measure his vitals.

“Uh…” he swallowed hard, eyes flickered from your hands against his chest to your face, feigning focus. “Dare.”

“Take your shirt off,” you say with an innocent grin. He blanches, surprised. “To check your vitals better. Only if you want to.” You assure him sweetly.

In a moment he was struggling to pull his shirt off, disoriented from the alcohol.

Next thing you know your hands are running down his sides to the hem of his shirt. Halfway through struggling out of his shirt he looks up at you from his sitting position, face still read and panting. You gently tug his shirt upwards, prompting him to pull his arms through the holes and you pull it over his head.

You giggle at the state of his hair, correcting it without hesitation.

“Real soft,” you muse as you gently sweep his hair out of his face. The poor boy looks overwhelmed as he stares up at you, arms wrapped around himself nervously.

You gently move the arm he has wrapped around his chest, pressing the stethoscope there once more. His heart is beating almost worryingly fast.

“You okay hon?” You ask gently.

“Mhm,” he manages, seeming to have a hard time speaking.

“Okay,” you murmur, putting the stethoscope on various places around his chest, pretending to know what you’re doing.

“Truth- uh truth or dare,” he chokes out.

“Dare,” you repeat, this time even more sure than the last.

“Can you uhm.. touch my hair again?” He wasn’t making eye contact at all now, seemingly fascinated by his jeans as he stares down, still adorned by that bright blush.

In a second your hands are in his hair. Even when you hadn’t been talking you were fascinated by his hair. Rick had caught you staring several times and always met you with a soft smile or a laugh, whereas Daryl arched his eyebrow with a slight grin.

His hair really was soft, soft as hell. You rubbed a single strand between your fingers before trailing your fingers from his roots to the ends of his hair. You secure your hands around his scalp, threading your fingers through his hair as you continue to play with it, enamored.

You hadn’t even noticed his face, eyes closed, mouth open, breathing deeply.

You lean in closer and murmur by his ear. “Truth or dare.”

His eyes flicker open and he breathes for a moment. “Truth.”

“Why do you avoid me back at camp?” He froze.

“I-I don’t,” he lied, resulting in a small tug to his hair. He draws in a sharp breath, looking up at you surprised.

“Don’t lie,” you chide.

“You make me nervous,” he admitted after a moment of silence. “People usually don’t make me nervous, but you do.” He was once again apparently entranced by his jeans so you cup his jaw gently, bringing his gaze up to meet your own.

“I like making you nervous. But not all the time. I like talking to you, Carl,” you explain in a soft voice.

He looks up at you with a genuine involuntary smile.

“Really?” He breathes.

“Yes,” you whisper, realizing how much closer you had gotten, your hand still settled on his jaw.

“Um… truth or dare?”

“Dare,” you repeat, adamant on forcing him out of his comfort zone.

“Is it okay if I— can I please, uhm—“

“Do whatever you want, Carl,” you interrupt him. “I trust you.”

His eyes widen at that and he finally rises to his feet. A familiar feeling. His hands on your waist. His grasp is awkward this time, less sure of himself when he’s not saving your life. When it’s a choice to be touching you.

He tugs you a bit closer and his eyes flicker to your lips. You know what he’s trying to do and you know he’s scared to do it.

Your hands are still in his hair and you use that to your advantage, pulling him towards you and letting him close the distance, giving you a hesitant kiss. His lips are a little chapped, but they’re plush and soft. He tastes like whiskey, and you’re sure you do too. He’s inexperienced; this might be his first kiss, you realize.

You follow that kiss with another chaste one pressed against his lips ever so gently.

“Feel good?” You murmur, forehead resting against his with your eyes closed.

“Mhm,” he hums, barely audible as he lets out another shakey breath. You know his eyes are closed too.

You’re both reveling. In each other's presence. Just breathing each other in as his arms move to loosely wrap around your waist instead of simply placing his hands there.

There it is. That’s right.

His hands on your waist were sweet but his arms encircling your waist was just right.

You pull him in for another slow kiss, heads tilted, mouth moving and prompting his to do the same, teaching him as best you could without saying a word.

“Wow,” he gasps against your lips. You try to give him a chance to explain his exclamation by pulling away, but he pulls you back in.

You slide your tongue over his bottom lip, hoping for him to part his lips a bit more and in response he gives your tongue a light suck, pulling it into his mouth and letting out a soft whine as he does.

Your kiss evolves in passion as his hand starts traveling over your body. It slides up your waist and onto your ribs, just shy of your boob. The other stays securely wrapped around your waist as though he’s attempting to anchor you to him.

As much as you adore the feeling of his lips, you pull away. His brow furrows, eyes still shut as he leans forward for another kiss, his lips chasing yours with a small sound of displeasure after you pull away.

You tug his hair, gently prompting him to tilt his head to the side to give you access to his neck. You start by pressing soft kisses there, a trail from his jaw to the base of his neck, before retracing your steps with parted lips, allowing yourself to taste the sweet musky skin of his neck.

He lets out a choked whimper before covering his mouth with his hand. Not on your watch. You immediately grab his hand, pulling it down to your tit. He lets out a shakey gasp as he grasps at the soft flesh, groaning softly as he squeezes experimentally.

“Thank you..” he murmurs, eyes still screwed shut.

“Of course sweetheart,” you smile against his neck. He shivers at the nickname, giving you a minor power trip.

You begin sucking the flesh of his neck into your mouth where you begin biting gradually before biting harder to leave dark marks. You leave one by his jaw before remembering Rick, and what his reaction would be. You press a quick kiss to the mark before shoving him down on the cushioned exam cot, straddling him.

That’s when you notice the tent in his pants. He glances down at the point where your crotches met, biting his lip nervously. “S-sorry—” he started.

“Don’t be,” you assure him, leaning down to begin littering his chest with kisses.

You start the marks by his collarbone, before moving down to his chest. He was whimpering without restraint now, back arched.

His hand was moving up your body, down your arm, and to your hand. He held your hand, giving it a soft squeeze before simply holding your hand.

“Can I.. can I have—” he cut himself off with a small whimper before you stopped your ministrations.

“Use your words sweetheart.”

He groans slightly at that. “Can I— I wanna kiss.” He squeezes your hand again.

You lean up and meet him halfway with a soft kiss. He’s better now. He’s more prepared. You run your tongue along his bottom lip and he gladly parts them, granting you entry. He opens his mouth a bit too wide, but you don’t mind. You pull back slightly, pulling away and following it with a chaste, soft kiss before continuing where you left off– his chest.

You continue sucking dark hickies along his chest, leaving a trail of bites and kisses down to his belly. A faint covering of dark hairs spreads from just about his belly button, trailing down to below the band of his jeans.

You let out a soft sigh of desire, lightly caressing his happy trail with the tip of your fingers. He shudders softly and you watch his cock twitch through his jeans. He begins to apologize again, cutting himself off with a soft groan when you plant a firm kiss to where his happy trail disappears under his jeans.

You tug softly at the button on his jeans. “Can I?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

He blinks in shock, looking down at you with wide eyes and a flushed face, mouth agape. “A-are you sure?”

“Yes,” you chuckle.

He responds with a small nod, still clearly shocked. You make quick work of undoing his pants, tugging them down before looking up at him with a small nod, prompting him to climb to his feet and shed his pants, quickly clambering back onto the bench. You swing your leg over the base of his thighs, straddling them.

You’re quick to feel him up, groping at his straining cock.

Freeing his cock you glance up at him in surprise, He’s packing. Six, maybe seven inches, not too wide – you could probably fit your hand perfectly around it – with a pretty pink tip, practically dripping precum. You test your earlier theory by experimentally wrapping your hand around his cock, eliciting a whine from him.

He swallows hard before looking down at you. “Are you s-sure? You’re comfortable?”

You nod. “I want to do this for you sweet boy.”

He smiles softly, letting his head fall back and his eyes flutter shut. “Thank you,” he sighs happily.

You lean down and kiss the head of his cock, causing him to jolt slightly. After lapping at the slit of his cock you take the head into your mouth. He gasps, bucking his hips.

Without warning you grab him by the hips and force him back against the cot which draws another whimper out of him as he pathetically attempts to squirm his hips closer to your mouth. You tut your tongue and pull away until he stops moving.

“Please,” he whines, struggling.

You decide to grant mercy on the poor boy, taking his head into your mouth once again. One arm forcing his hips against the table, you wrap the other hand around his cock and gently squeeze. He sighs happily, breath hitching as you begin moving your hand. Rotating it gradually as you move your hand up and down, you allow some of your saliva to drip from the head of his cock into your hand.

You use it as lubricant to begin pumping your hand up and down his cock faster, limp wristed as you continue lapping at the head of his cock. He arches his back more and whines.

Just as you begin taking more of his cock into your mouth his hand flies to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair before squeezing, clearly doing his best to hold back from pulling your hair too hard.

“Mmh..” he moans softly, gripping at your hair firmly and applying slight pressure.

Suddenly you take as much as possible into your mouth, deepthroating him without warning. He lets out a sharp moan, gripping your hair tighter before releasing his grip in a slight panic as he realizes what he’s doing– it’s cute how hard he’s trying to hold back.

You use your tongue mostly, swirling it around his cock to the best of your ability as you begin bobbing your head up and down. You use one hand to massage his hard balls, ready to burst already. With that you remember that he’s a virgin, and you probably shouldn’t be teasing him so much.

This whole time he’s been making the most lewd noises, moaning and letting out small whimpers to the rhythm of you bobbing your head. His cock twitches in your mouth, prompting you to go faster to help him through.

You release his hips and meet his eyes when he gives you a confused glance, silently giving him permission. Experimentally, he bucks his hips, moaning before falling into a steady rhythm, his hips rising and falling shakily against your mouth.

He grips your hair even tighter, bringing tears to your eyes as you gag on his cock. After less than ten seconds he releases his load down your throat. Despite your attempts to swallow it dribbles out of your mouth and down his cock.

The low groan he had released had tapered off into a moan, sighing as he finally collapsed from his high. As he lays there, chest heaving, you slowly climb on top of him, collapsing there and cuddling into him.

He turns and kisses the top of your head, his wide smile unknown to you.

“I think I’m less nervous around you now,” he murmurs into your hair.

You smile softly as he places his hand on your waist once again. “Good,”

Thank god for liquid courage.

They cleared the pharmacy of walkers eventually, and by the time they reached you the two of you were cleaned up.

You came out swinging, having to run to the truck.

The two of you ended up so battered and bruised Rick didn’t even think to mention the bruise at the base of Carl’s jaw, and the one on his collarbone, just visible when he wore tank tops.

You saved the whiskey for next time.

[imaginaryf1shots]

Red Line | CL - LH

WC: 5K

Charles Leclerc x reader, Lewis Hamilton x reader

Summery;(REQUESTED) You have had feelings for Charles for years, your best friend. When he fails to return your feelings and a new Ferrari driver joins the team, he shows you attention and care. It is less complicated.

Warning: angst?

AN: i debated who she should end up with, but he's my number 1 driver, and I'm WEAK for him.

Masterlist

Charles Masterlist

Lewis Masterlist

You have been working at Scuderia Ferrari since 2018, you started as an intern under the engineering team, you quickly became a permanent engineer for Charles in 2019 and have continued to develop and grow as the time went on. Maybe it's because you joined the same year Charles did, or it's because you were one of his first engineers when he started working for the red team, but the two of you have grown so close to each other. You consider Charles to be one of the closest people to you, during work hours and out of work hours. You see each other a lot even in the off-season. Charles values your opinion and cares a lot about it, he also considers you one of his close friends. Whenever you’re in the paddock you're always close by, he can depend on you. He prides himself in knowing you, he knows your coffee order, your favourite food, your dreams and hopes, he knows it all.

The moment Charles joined the team, you just clicked, your connection instant and so effortless. You both don't have to overthink it... at the start at least.

On long days, feeling the effect of the jetlag, when you'd almost drop from how tired you are, Charles always brings you coffee for a boost. On days where you're both in Maranello, he'd always offers you a ride back to the small house you have in Italy, he always insists that it's on his way but both of you know that it wasn't. He's always been patient and calm, and that made him a good listener. On plane rides when only the two of you are awake he'd just happily sit down and listen to you vent, his patience seemingly endless.

Even the fans picked up on the bond between the two of you, some speculating you're a couple. Thankfully it wasn't a big thing or it would have affected your job, but every now and then you both get those kinds of comments. And maybe you just had the smallest hopes that you were an actual couple, those feelings you have slowly ate at you every day. You were in love with Charles, the intensity of your feelings scared you. You can never tell him what you're feeling with the fear of ruining the perfect balance of your friendship. And even though he treats you in a way a partner would on a lot of occasions, he acts completely oblivious to it, as if everything he does with you he does for everyone else.

On a late evening, as you looked over the latest numbers and data, Charles came seemingly out of nowhere with two cups of coffee in hand.

"Long night, huh?" He said, offering you the coffee, you smiled, grateful for his gesture.

"Thanks." You take a sip and sigh in content. "You always know when I need the caffeine boost."

Charles leans on the desk beside you and grins. "It's the perk of knowing you so well, how are my numbers?"

"Not good." You tease him, Charles leans over to see what you're looking at. "They're saying you're too nice."

Charles laughs and rolls his eyes. "I'll try to be less nice then, maybe I'll start with you."

"Come on now, I was just joking." You pout at him and he smiles.

"How long until you finish up?" Charles asks and you hum.

"Not long, I'm just finishing up." You tell him, and he nods but doesn't move.

"Do you need a ride?" Charles asks, his eyes not straying from you. "I'm heading out."

"You're staying on the other side of town." You raise an eyebrow, those words you say to him every time.

"It's no trouble, besides it's an excuse to spend more time with my favourite person on the team." Your heart skips a beat at his words and you can't fight the smile.

"Alright, I'll take you up on that."

Those kinds of things your mind wanders to, especially on those sleepless nights while you're lying in bed. Your mind always goes back to the little moments that you shared, the moments that got your heart to flutter, the lingering glances, the causal touches, and the shared laughter. You cherish those moments, holding them close to you like precious and delicate Chinas. But there was always doubt. Did he actually feel the same way? Will he ever feel the same way? Or are you just destined to always be his friend?

Your thoughts all came to a halt when the room buzzed, by the new arrival. The room was alight with anticipation as Lewis Hamilton walked in, his presence commanding attention. His move to Ferrari is sensational, the talk of the paddock all of last year. The move turned F1 upside down. Lewis greeted everyone with a practised charm, a smile on his face, he wanted to seem genuine, he wanted to not come across as a big headed driver and just to get to know everyone he works with, to create a harmonious and smooth working place. Lewis met everyone's gaze as he greeted them, but when his eyes met yours, something shifted.

"Hey there." Lewis said, approaching you with a smile. "You must be the genius behind these impressive numbers."

You laughed, feeling slightly flustered. "I'm not too sure about the genius part, but I try my best. Welcome to Ferrari, Lewis."

"Thanks, it's great to be here." Lewis said and looked around the room before his eyes settled back on you. "I've heard a lot about you, mind if I pick your brain a bit?"

"Not at all, what do you want to know?"

And so you and Lewis stood talking for a bit, before he was whisked away to continue his tour and meet the rest of the workers. But as his presence became permanent in the factory you found yourself spending a lot of time with him. He often sought you out and at first it was just to understand all the data and how the new car will function and he had ideas that he wanted to see if it could be implemented or not. Your conversations flowed easily, from the team, to the car to your role it all went and flowed easily. And you found yourself thinking more about Lewis and looking forward to your time together.

Lewis had a knack of lightening the mood and making everything seem so effortless. It's a trait that you appreciate. It was refreshing.

One afternoon, you were reviewing data together. Lewis leaned over your shoulder, his proximity causing you to lose focus for a moment.

"So what's the secret sauce here?" He asked his tone playful, it was as if he had no idea what he was doing, as if his proximity was not having any effect on you.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret then, would it?" You laughed, nudging him lightly.

"Fair point, but come on, give me something." Lewis smiled at vou. "I promise I won't tell anyone.”

"Alright, alright." You said after rolling your eyes, your smile showed that you're actually okay with it. "It's all in optimising the balance between speed and control, especially in the corners. We've been finetuning it for months."

"See, now I'm learning something, you really are the genius everyone says you are." You blushed and shrugged, brushing off the compliment.

"It's a team effort."

"Yeah, but each team has its MVP." He said and his eyes locked with yours for a moment longer than necessary.

One dqy, you were in the garage with Charles, adjusting some settings to his car, when Lewis came a playful grin on his face.

"Hey, engineer extraordinaire, got a moment?" Lewis asked, his eyes filled with mischief.

"What's up, Lewis?" You looked up at him already amused.

"I've got a serious question for you, it's about strategy." Lewis leaned next to you, his eyes going to Charles with the playful look on his face. Charles watched the interaction with intrigue, he of course noticed how close you and Lewis became, but he never actually saw you interact.

"Go on."

"Pineapple on pizza, yes or no?" This was not what you expected at all, Charles was even surprised, but where you laughed he did not.

"Really? That's your serious question?"

"Absolutely, it's crucial information." He said laughing along with you.

"Well, if you must know, I'm a pro-pineapple." You shrugged, throwing your hands up. "Controversial, I know."

"I knew I loved you for a reason, you've got good taste." Lewis winked at you before he patted Charles's shoulder and left you back to what you were doing.

"That's it?" You asked after the older driver.

"Yeah." With a wave of his hand over his shoulder he was out of sight. You shook your head and went back to what you were doing before he came in with a smile on your face.

"Huh." Charles mutters frowning, things are changing, and it's making him feel some type of way, he has no idea what to feel about it.

As your relationship grew and your banter continued, you found yourself looking forward to these light-hearted moments. Lewis had a way of making the most mundane topics entertaining. He was effortlessly funny, and his humour was a refreshing change from the intense atmosphere of the garage.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you found yourselves alone in the garage. You were finishing up some data analysis when Lewis wandered over, two bottles of water in hand. You got dejavu, as your mind flashed to when Charles would get you coffee and drive you home whenever you had long days.

“Thought you might need this.” He said, handing you one.

“Thanks, Lewis, you’re a lifesaver.”

He took a seat next to her, watching her work. “You know, you’ve got this incredible focus. It’s impressive.”

You smiled, a little flustered by the compliment. “It’s part of the job.”

“Still, it’s something, I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you end up here? With Ferrari, I mean.”

You paused, considering how to condense years of passion and hard work into a few sentences. “I’ve always loved racing. Grew up watching it with my family. I studied engineering because I wanted to be part of this world, and Ferrari… well, it’s the dream, isn’t it?”

“It really is, and you’re amazing at what you do. The team’s lucky to have you.” Lewis nodded, genuinely believing his words.

“Thanks, Lewis. That means a lot.” You felt a blush creep up your cheeks.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned to months, you noticed more about Lewis. His dedication to his craft, the way he treated everyone on the team with respect, and his infectious enthusiasm. He was different from what you had expected, and you found yourself drawn to him in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

There was a particular day that stood out. You had a meeting scheduled and as you waited for it to begin, you were both early. Lewis started telling a story about an adventure he had on a race weekend in Japan.

“So there I was, completely lost in Tokyo, and none of my apps were working. I couldn’t read the signs, and I was pretty sure I was going to end up on the news as the driver who went missing in the middle of a city. Then, out of nowhere, this old lady comes up to me and starts speaking perfect English, asking if I needed help. Turns out she used to live in London. She got me back to my hotel, and we still exchange Christmas cards.”

“Only you, Lewis. Only you.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“What can I say? Adventure finds me.” He said with a wink.

It was in these moments that you started to notice his attractiveness, not just physically, though he was undeniably handsome, but in the way he carried himself, the kindness in his eyes, and the warmth of his smile. He made you laugh, made you feel seen and appreciated. It was a stark contrast to the complicated, often unspoken dynamics you had with Charles.

As time went on the lines between her professional and personal life began to blur once more, but with a new Ferrari driver. You and Lewis continued to grow closer, your bond solidifying with each shared laugh and meaningful conversation. Yet, with each passing day, the tension between you and Charles grew more.

One morning, as you arrived at the garage, Charles was waiting for you, his usual easygoing demeanour replaced with a more serious expression. Something that you picked on instantly, you can read Charles easily.

“Hey.” He greeted, handing you a cup of your favourite coffee. “Got a minute?”

“Sure, thanks for the coffee” You replied, knowing that something big is about to drop. “What’s up?”

He led her to a quieter corner of the garage, away from the prying eyes and ears of your colleagues. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. It’s... about Lewis.”

You sighed inwardly, bracing yourself. “What about him?”

“I’ve noticed you two have been spending a lot of time together.” Charles ran a hand through his hair, a habit you knew indicated he was stressed.

“Yes, we have. He’s new and has a lot of questions. We’ve become friends.” You nodded, keeping your voice steady.

“Friends?” Charles echoed, a hint of scepticism in his voice. “It seems like more than that.”

“Charles, we are friends.” You looked him in the eye, his stare was unwavering, you’ve never hidden anything from Charles, it wasn’t in your nature. You blinked a few times before you continued, your voice dropping a little. “I may have feelings for him and I’m pretty sure he feels the same.

His jaw tightened, and he looked away for a moment before speaking again. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. He’s got a reputation, you know.”

“Lewis has been nothing but kind and respectful to me.” You countered. “I appreciate your concern, Charles, but I can handle this.”

“Alright. Just... be careful, okay?” He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.

“I will.” You promised, feeling a mix of relief and guilt as you walked away.

That evening, after another successful session, Lewis invited you out for dinner. As you sat in a cosy restaurant, the conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself relaxing in his presence.

“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” Lewis observed, his eyes searching your face.

“Just the usual stress of the job.” You smiled, waving him off. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Anything I can help with?” It takes you a moment to answer before you decide to confide in him,

“It’s Charles. He’s... concerned about us spending time together, he thinks I might get hurt.”

Lewis’s expression softened. “I understand where he’s coming from, but I want you to know, I’m serious about this. About us.”

“I know.” You said, reaching out to squeeze his hand, fighting the blush from forming on your cheeks. “I just need to figure out how to manage everything.”

Charles sat alone in his hotel room, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls. The conversation with you earlier played over and over in his mind. He had always thought your friendship was special, but seeing you with Lewis had stirred something deep within him, something he couldn’t ignore any longer.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, a new message from you: “Thank you for understanding, Charles. It means a lot to me.”

He stared at the words, feeling a pang of longing and regret. How had he not seen it before? The way his heart quickened whenever you laughed, the comfort he felt in your presence, the jealousy that gnawed at him every time he saw you with Lewis, it all pointed to one undeniable truth. He was in love with you.

Memories flooded his mind: the late-night conversations, the shared glances across the garage, the way you always seemed to know what he needed without him having to ask. He had taken it all for granted, thinking it was simply the bond of close friendship. But now, faced with the reality of losing you to someone else, he realised just how much you meant to him.

Charles leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his hair. How could he have been so blind? He had always been there for you, and you for him, but he had never allowed himself to consider the possibility of something more. Now, it seems, it might be too late.

On track after that, Charles found it hard to focus. His mind was clouded with thoughts of you, of what he needed to do. He watched you from a distance, your interactions with Lewis emphasising the urgency of his situation. He couldn’t stand by and watch you slip away without at least telling you how he felt. And from then on tension between him and Lewis started to mount.

One afternoon, as the team prepared for a crucial race weekend, the tension between Charles and Lewis came to a head. They were in the garage, going over the final preparations, when Charles finally voiced his frustration.

“Lewis, can we talk?” Charles asked, his tone clipped.

“Sure.” Lewis replied, sensing the underlying tension, and he had a pretty good idea why Charles wanted to talk to him.

They stepped outside, away from the hustle of the garage. Charles turned to face him, his eyes blazing. “What are your intentions with y/n?”

“My intentions? I care about her, Charles.” Lewis raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the directness. “Isn’t that obvious?”

“She means a lot to me.” Charles clenched his fists, struggling to keep his emotions in check. “I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“And you think I do?” Lewis shot back, his voice rising. “I’ve been nothing but honest with her. What about you, Charles? Have you told her how you feel?”

Charles was silent, the truth hanging heavily between them. He hadn’t, and now he feared it might be too late. It seemed that even Lewis knew about his feelings even before he did. Charles gave Lewis a nod and left him abruptly.

His feelings weren’t just affecting his relationship with you, and with Lewis but it started to be felt by the team as well, and it wouldn’t be long before the fans started to spot it as well.

Inside the garage, you could sense the growing tension between the two men. It was affecting the team’s morale, and you knew you had to do something. So you approached Charles.

“Charles, we need to talk.” You nodded to the side for him to follow her.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked once you stood in a quiet corner.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “This... thing between you and Lewis, it needs to stop. It’s affecting the team.”

“I know.” He admitted, his voice unsteady. “I just... I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

“You’re not losing me,” You said gently, giving him one of your smiles that always calmed him down, but it seemed like it wasn’t working at this moment. “But you need to understand that I have feelings for Lewis. And I need you to respect that.”

“I’m trying. But it’s hard.” Charles looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and longing.

“I know it is.” You replied, placing a hand on his arm and his heart skipped a beat. “But we’ll get through this. We always do, as friends.”

This sent a bang to his heart, how many times he’s called you a friend not knowing the effect it had on you, it seemed like now he knows.

”What?” You asked, seeing the look on his face. “You have something you want to tell me.”

”I-uh…” Charles trailed off, his confidence suddenly gone.

”Charles, just say it.”

Charles took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and there’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have said a long time ago, and maybe this is not the right time but I can’t hold it in any longer.”

“Okay. What is it?” Your heart started beating fast in your chest.

“I’m in love with you.” He blurted out, the words rushing out in a torrent of emotion. “I have been for a long time. I just... I didn’t realise it until now. Seeing you with Lewis made me see what I’ve been too afraid to acknowledge. I don’t want to lose you, not like this.”

“Charles... I...” Your eyes widened in shock and confusion, those words you’ve longed to hear for years, and here he is saying them to you, but… it’s a bit late. This just complicated everything.

“I know this is sudden,” He continued, his voice trembling slightly. “And I know you have feelings for Lewis. But I had to tell you. I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. You mean everything to me, and I can’t stand the thought of not trying.”

You were silent for a long moment, your gaze dropping to the ground as you processed his words. When you finally looked up, your eyes were filled with a mix of sadness and uncertainty.

“Charles, I... I don’t know what to say.” You admitted. “This is a lot to take in. I care about you so much, but I also have feelings for Lewis. I’m- I'm just so confused right now.”

“I understand.” He said softly. “I’m not asking for an answer right now. I just needed you to know how I feel. Whatever you decide, I’ll respect it. But I couldn’t let you go without telling you the truth.”

“I need some time to figure this out.” Your emotions were everywhere and you couldn’t make sense of them.

“Take all the time you need.” He replied, his voice gentle. “I’ll be here, no matter what.”

As you walked away, Charles felt a strange sense of relief mingled with apprehension. He had laid his heart bare, and now the rest was up to you. All he could do was hope that, in the end, you would see that he was the one who truly loved her, that with all your shared memories spent together you’d choose him, and that it wasn’t too late.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you. Your mind is spinning, the weight of his confession pressing heavily on your heart. As much as you had longed to hear those words from him, the timing felt like a cruel twist of fate. You needed clarity, and the only person who could help you find it was Lewis.

So that evening, you went to Lewis’s hotel room. The city lights outside cast a warm glow, creating an intimate atmosphere. Lewis welcomed you in with a gentle smile, sensing the turmoil in your eyes.

“Hey.” He said softly, leading you to the sofa. “You look like you’ve had a rough day.”

You nodded, your emotions still raw from your earlier conversation with Charles. “I need to talk to you about something important.”

“What’s going on?” Lewis sat beside you, frowning.

“Charles confessed his feelings to me today.” You took a deep breath. “He told me he’s in love with me.”

“I see.” He knew about his feelings, but he didn’t think Charles actually had it in him to confess. “ And how do you feel about that?”

“It’s complicated.” You admitted, your voice trembling. “I’ve had feelings for Charles for a long time. I thought he only saw me as a friend, so I never said anything. But now...”

“I understand.” Lewis nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “This must be really confusing for you.”

“It is.” Your voice barely above a whisper. “But the thing is, I’ve been waiting for Charles to notice me for years. And while I was waiting, I met you. You’ve been so kind, so genuine, and… I couldn’t help but start to have feelings for you.”

“I care about you a lot.” Lewis reached out, taking your hand in his. “More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. But I don’t want to be with you if your heart is somewhere else. You deserve to be happy, whatever that means for you.”

“I know. And that’s why I need to be honest with you.” Tears welled up in your eyes as you squeezed his hand, it’s all too much for you. “I’ve spent so much time waiting for Charles to return my feelings, and it’s cost me a lot of happiness. I don’t want to waste any more time. I want to give us a chance, Lewis. I want to see where this can go.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured.” Lewis’s eyes softened with relief and warmth.

“I’m sure.” You nodded firmly, your decision made. “You’ve shown me what it feels like to be appreciated and cared for. I don’t want to let that go.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that made your heart flutter. “I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.”

You sat in silence for a moment, the weight of your decision settling between you both. You felt a sense of peace, knowing you had made the right choice for yourself. The future was uncertain, but with Lewis by your side, you felt ready to face it.

After your talk with Lewis, and your decision being made, you were filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Being with Lewis felt right, it was easy and your bond just grew stronger every day. He made you laugh, supported your ambitions and treated you with a level of respect and affection, you hadn’t realised you were missing.

But your past with Charles still haunted you, you saw him every day for work and there was a subtle tension over you and it affected the team dynamic. Charles was professional, as always, but there was a distance and coldness to his demeanour that hadn’t been there before. It hurt you to see him struggling, but you knew you had made the right choice. For yourself.

After a race weekend, that was hard and gruelling on you and Lewis and the rest of the team, Lewis took you out to a quiet restaurant. The conversation was light and filled with laughter, a welcome respite from the pressure that is their work.

“Can you believe how many laps we ran today?” Lewis joked, shaking his head. “I thought my arms were going to fall off.”

You laughed, enjoying the ease of your banter. “I was beginning to think they’d made you a permanent fixture on the track.”

As you continued to talk, you felt a warmth spreading through your chest. This was what you had been missing—genuine connection, unburdened by years of unspoken feelings and what-ifs.

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, Charles sat alone in his room once more, he was staring at his phone. He had been avoiding you, unsure of how to navigate your new reality. The thought of you with Lewis was a constant ache in his heart, but he couldn’t deny that you seemed happier. Unable to bear the silence any longer, Charles decided to reach out. He typed out a message, his fingers hovering over the send button before finally pressing it.

Can we talk? I miss our friendship.

Your phone buzzed just as you and Lewis were finishing dessert. You glanced at the screen, your heart sinking slightly at the sight of Charles’s name. Lewis noticed your expression and raised an eyebrow.

“Everything okay?” he asked gently.

You nodded, showing him the message. “It’s from Charles. He wants to talk.”

“Do you want to go see him? It’s okay if you do.” Lewis took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I think I should.” You said softly. “We need to clear the air.”

Later that evening, you found herself outside Charles’s hotel room, your heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and resolve. You knocked gently, and a moment later, the door opened to reveal Charles’s weary face.

“Hey,” he greeted, stepping aside to let you in.

“Hey.” You replied, taking a seat on the edge of the sofa. “You wanted to talk?”

“I did.” He nodded, closing the door and sitting opposite you. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what I said to you, and I realised I was being unfair. I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”

“Charles, it’s okay.” You said softly. “I’m glad you told me how you feel. But I also needed to be honest with myself. Waiting for you for so long, it was hard. And in that time, I found something real with Lewis.”

“I understand.” He looked down, his expression pained but accepting. “It just took me too long to see what was right in front of me. I don’t want to lose you as a friend, though. You mean too much to me.”

Your heart ached for him, for the years of missed opportunities and unspoken words.

“You won’t lose me, Charles. Our friendship is important to me too. It’ll take some time, but we can find a way to move forward.”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I’d like that.”

And so the tension began to ease, it took time, but you and Charles found a new rhythm. Your friendship slowly mending as you navigated this new phase of thier relationship. Lewis was a constant source of support, his presence a steady anchor in the shifting tides of her emotions.

And so one race weekend, as the team prepared for another race, you found yourself standing between Lewis and Charles, the three of you chatting easily. There is a new understanding between you.

“Ready for this weekend?” Lewis asked, grinning at you.

You smiled, feeling a sense of contentment you hadn’t felt in a long time. “More than ever.”

Charles chimed in, his eyes warm with genuine affection. “We’ve got this.”

In that moment, surrounded by the people who meant the most to you, you knew you had made the right choices. Your relationships weren’t perfect but it was close to it. Most importantly you are happy.

Maintaglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @mysticalpenguinarbiter

[dolene]

ESPRESSO ; max verstappen x singer!reader

summary: after the release and her performance on coachella. who knows that her newest single is hinting an attraction from a certain person.

taglist: @callsignwidow (and for those who commented in my previous deleted post, please re-comment)

yourusername

liked by ameliadimz and 1,936,558 others

yourusername just wanted to put out a little song before Coachella 🤎

Espresso 4/11

8pm EST

view all 31,769 comments

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iheartradio espressOMGGGGG

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yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1 and 1,103,996 others

yourusername Are you thinking about me? ☕

view all 31,847 comments

username YES YES YES WE AREEEE

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laufey 🖐️🖐️🖐️🖐️🖐️🖐️🖐️

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maisiehpeters Not only thinking, BUT LISTENING TOO 🔊🔊🔊🔊

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username ＠redbullracing I'VE GOT MY EYES TO ONE OF YOUR DRIVER

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teamyn Good choice after being starstrucked 🤭

iamrebeccad Yes I ammm

jennaortega Thinking my thoughts in a loud speaker

maxverstappen1 added a photo to their story! · 12m

yourusername

liked by redbullracing and 1,148,577 others

yourusername Have you met your eye refresher yet?

view all 8,461 comments

username WHAT THE HELL

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[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

RUN RABBIT, RUN RUN RUN. ( House of the Dragon x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: DARK! King Aegon ii Targaryen x Common Folk! Reader prompt: Aegon has been watching you from years. Now that he is King, he intends to make his intentions clear. key: Y/n = Your name, R/n = Random name, E/C = eye color word count: 1, 000+ words

He was six and ten when he first met you, well more of, he saw you from a distance. You were a pretty little thing⎯well, for some common folk girl, you were pretty. From what he saw from a distance, you worked as a barkeep, cleaning tables and sometimes serving ale or whatever shitty drink they served at that tavern. 

You were pretty, maybe growing more so in a few years, but enough for the other drunks to take notice as well. He didn’t like it. Even though he had never spoken to you, or really interacted with you at all. You were his pretty little barekeep to gawk at.

It took everything in him to not set Sunfyre upon all of them, burning the shitty little tavern up in flames. So then, he could take their charred remains and show what happened when others touched what was his. But, he digressed. For now. 

Slowly sauntering into the tavern, he searches for you in the crowd of common folk, his gaze predatory and determined. Since his coronation as King, he had been busy, far too busy to leave the Red Keep to go to Flea Bottom. All he wished for now was to have a drink and watch you as he had done a dozen times before. He was sure if he was going to speak to you yet. It wasn’t that he did not have the courage to speak to you. 

He was a Targaryen, and now King, he had nothing to feel ashamed of or worried about. But rather he liked the way you squirmed under his gaze. He liked the way you would grow stiff and then blush a soft pink when you realized that it was just him. It was adorable and a good ego boost to know that he could get you all flustered without even needing to speak. 

“All hail the new King!” Some drunk slurs aloud, “From the King of Flea Bottom to the King of the Seven Kingdoms!”

“Aye!” 

“All hail!”

Rolling his eyes at the drunken babbling that filled the tavern, he sits down at his usual table, kicking his feet up on a chair. Drumming his fingers against the table, he looks around for you, growing wary as he doesn’t see you in the tavern. Clenching his jaw tightly as his temper starts to rise, he holds back at lashing out, his mind running a million miles per hour.

“Where the hell is that damn girl?! Y/n!” A barkeep behind the bar rants, “Oi! You, go get Y/n.”

Not even the other barkeep’s knew where you were at. You weren’t here. You were always on time. Why the fuck were you not here? Where the fuck were you at?

Feeling his temper bubbling with each second that he doesn’t see you, the loud slamming of a door fills the tavern, nobody paying any mind to it. Seeing you walk inside all soaked from the rain, he instantly calms down at sight of you. 

Slowly trailing his eyes over your soaked figure, you look ethereal like this. Hair all soaked and clothes sticking to you like a second skin, accentuating  your curves. Feeling a presence beside him, he snaps out of his daze, seeing some other barkeep trying to speak to him.

“Can I⎯” 

“No, no, her. I want her.” He orders, pointing at you. 

Watching as you dried yourself off with a rag, he smirks at how your linen underskirt was practically sheer. He wondered, if he spilled his seed in you, would a bastard grow in your belly? Would then he be able to whisk you away to the Red Keep, far far away from the drunks and fools that surrounded you both? After all, you would be so grateful for him to do such a thing. You, some lowborn common folk girl, getting the luxury of carrying his child in your belly. 

“Bring me her. I will take nothing but what she brings to me.” He orders.

Feeling a familiar pair of predatory eyes on you, you slowly turn around to see the now King, watching you. He sat at the same table as always, in the center where he and those silvery locks could be gawked at. Furrowing your brows in confusion, you watch as R/n walks away from the table, rolling her eyes hard with a scowl. Cocking her head to Aegon, you didn’t even have to ask to understand that he had rejected her. 

Wiping your hands dry with the rag, your eyes locked onto Aegon’s, e/c meeting predatory violet eyes. Shivering at the gaze, R/n motions for you to go to him with a cock of her head, her iration clear as day at not getting any coin from him. Mustering up your courage, you walk over to him, coming face-to-face for the first time ever. He was a lot more handsome up close. Alluring violet eyes, silvery white Targaryen hair and pouty lips. 

“Do you wish to make your King happy?” He asked, his voice rough and low.

“I do, your grace.” You nod, “ How can I be of service to you?”

“I can think of many ways.”

Growing tense at the lewd comment, you shift in place, unsure if he was jesting with you or if he was being serious. You have never spoken to him up to this point, just watching from afar or in passing. You could not tell. Chewing on your bottom lip a little nervously, he places a hand on your waist, letting out a full belly laugh. Weakly nodding unsure, he slowly trails his hand down to your hip, not quite inappropriate but not appropriate at the same time. 

“Can I get you some ale, your grace?” You ask, attempting to change the subject.

“No.”

“Or mayhaps some bread from the kitchen?” You try again, “I am sure we can find something for you if that is what you desire.”

“No.”

Blushing under his intense gaze, he slowly stands up from his seat, looking like a predator stalking its prey. Tilting your head up as he towers over you, you resist the urge to cower, not wanting him to see your fear. In your time working here you learned men tended to like seeing women cower, it was like a game to them. Softly gulping as he digs his nails into your hip, a voice in the back of your head tells you to run away, that he was dangerous. But, your legs would not let you move. 

“Your grace?” You whisper, your voice weak. 

“Then you will not scream, cry, or protest as I take you back to the Red Keep.” He whispers, “I would hate to have to kill you when I have just gotten you within my grasp. Now walk, my little rabbit.”

----

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

[wyvernest]

hello! i absolutely love your writing could i request smth like fem! reader with miguel where she buys a suggestive nightgown/lingere set or outfit for him and how he’d totally melt when he sees it? thank you :))

for your eyes only

pairing: miguel o'hara x wife!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, established relationship, piv, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, slight body worship, tiddie sucking?

summary: miguel has been overworking himself, and you buy a new lingerie set to help him release some stress

divider by @cafekitsune <3

You and Miguel are on a vacation.

He had been more than stressed lately with the aching duties of leading the spider-society, but the very last thing he intended to do was to neglect you.

So naturally, he thought of ways to spend more time with you, yet every time you two would finally get into the mood, right when he was about to make you his all over again, an anomaly or a system malfunction at HQ would interrupt you, leaving you with your heart racing and him with terribly uncomfortable blue balls.

He had had quite enough.

He surprised you with the tickets several weeks ago, on one of those rare occasions on which you two happened to be alone in the intimacy of his house.

To say that you were overflowing with joy is an understatement. He assured you that while he is gone, Jess would remain in charge so things don't go downhill.

So now, here you are, packing for a long-awaited, honeymoon-replica with your beloved husband. You feel enormously grateful for his effort to make you a priority, even more so when you remember how anxious he was about abandoning his job for a while.

You want to make it worth it.

You want to make him forget about all the stress and worries. You want to be there for him, to help him, to comfort him,

to pleasure him.

After assessing all options, you decide you're more than happy with the results.

"What's gotten into you?" he inquires playfully in between your hurried, passionate kisses as you drag him into the hotel room, excitement evident in your movements. 

He's clearly more than pleased to see you clinging onto him like a lifeline, his ego undeniably boosted by the desperate make out session you just pulled him into right in the hallways. The knowledge of still being able to drive you crazy so effortlessly makes him smirk into the heated kiss.

"Told you." you gasp shallowly, parting from his swollen lips as you pull at his shirt, seeking to take it off. "I have a surprise."

Taking the hem and tossing the shirt out of your way, he bends down slightly, his massive shoulders bringing his shadow upon you, intimidating but so hot.

"Tell me about it." His voice is an octave lower, deep and provoking. You have to actively fight your brain from melting into lust and hunger for him in order to remain conscious and stick with the idea.

"No need.", you push at his biceps and he complies, backing off, an eyebrow raising in slight confusion mixed with surprise.

"You just have to take a shower first."

"Ah." his mood shifts abruptly, his head tilts to the side as if to check if he really needs one.

You can't help but burst into a hearty chuckle. "No, not because of that! I just need you away for a couple of minutes."

Your eyes squint, suggestive. He doesn't fail to catch on to your request, the ideas of what you might be up to already taking form in his mind, making his eyes shine a dark red glow.

Stepping back, he heads to the bathroom, turning back to you before shutting the door.

"Be quick. I won't be long.", He warns, almost threateningly, and you can't stop yourself from growing wet at the thought that he would take you the second he's out, no matter if you're ready or not.

Coming back to your senses, you hear the water running in the shower, yet sense no movement. You know he's listening in, but you couldn't care less. Enhanced senses or not, he wouldn't possibly be able to tell that you're rushing to the luggage to snatch the lingerie set you brought just by the shuffling alone. 

Or can he?

You're fast to discard your evening outfit, slipping into the set. Glancing at yourself in the hotel mirror, a nearly evil smirk takes over your face imagining his reaction. Adjusting everything in place, you look at the bright red straps around your thighs, ever slightly too tight, just to make the flesh look plumper, ready to pop out of its confinement; you look at the thin panties, inviting and bold, leaving your ass bare for his hands to play with. And finally, the pièce de résistance, the bow tie holding your breasts together, the only thing covering them.

Fixing your hair and doing the final touches to the bed, turning the lights off and lighting a couple candles, you take your place on the soft mattress.

You feel your heart racing like it's your honeymoon night, your nervousness not aided by the sound of the water tap falling silent and of him stepping out of the shower.

It only takes him a few seconds to tie a towel around his hips and push the door wide open, the bright light creeping into the room through a barely-there cloud of condensation.

The moment he spots you, he stops dead in his tracks.

"Ay, mierda.." He mumbles, more to himself, his eyes scanning your body up and down, from head to toe and back.

"So beautiful," he concludes, tone heavy with need as he approaches you slowly, eyes still not meeting yours. "And all mine."

Getting up from your spot, you meet him halfway, kneeled on the edge of the bed. Your hands fly to his massive shoulders, moving up his neck to tangle in his damp hair. He grabs your waist, the heat of his palms on the bare skin of your middle sending shivers up your spine like it's your first time together.

Nearly getting lost in the sight of him, half naked with droplets of water running down his chest, you bite your lip, breathing quickened.

"What did I do to deserve this, hm?" He whispers, eyes half lidded and voice low and sleepy. "Eres demasiado buena para mí." (You're too good to me)

He leans closer, his hot breath fanning your face.

You find it hard to gather yourself and focus on what he's saying.

"You've been working so hard lately." your voice drips into an exaggerated praise which he drinks in with the most obvious interest. "Coming home late, barely getting any time to yourself." 

He leans even closer, keen on listening to you.

"You hold it all together so well," you mirror his own past voiced complaints. "You deserve so much more than a vacation."

"¿Ah, sí? ¿Cómo qué?" (Oh, yeah? What do you mean?). He insists smugly, one inch away from tasting your lips.

He wants to hear you say it.

You take his hands from your waist and pull them to slide upwards; he doesn't waste a second before he places them on each side of your breasts, pushing them together softly.

"Anything I can give you." You speak quietly, toying with the superficial knot of his towel. He closes the gap between you, his lips moving against yours with unmatched passion and want, his breathing already hot and laboured. His bare chest rises and falls against yours as he finally pulls away only to get rid of the cloth around his waist, flashing you with the image of his hardening fat cock.

Towering over you, he slowly and carefully pushes you to lie back down on the bed, crawling on top of you.

His mouth latches on to your pulse point, kissing and nibbling the sensitive skin, while his warm hands travel up and down your body appreciatively. 

Your eyes roll back at the feeling of his cursory palm caressing your thighs, the curve of your hips, up to the soft mound of your tit, all the while his lips remain on your neck.

"Miguel-!" You moan mindlessly, and his cock twitches on your thigh, hard and heavy.

Suddenly, his hands grip your waist firmly and he flips you over so that you're on top of him. 

You brace yourself on your elbows on either side of his head, arching your back. He plants a wet kiss on the tops of your breasts, still concealed by the red bow, as one of his hands moves to deliver a slap to your ass.

The hot palm maps your body like a vice, you feel as if the skin will burn and sting once his touch departs from you. He shifts and presses his lips to yours, indulgent and tender. It’s different, not nearly as greedy as before, it’s more intimate, as if you’re trading parts of your souls to each other, never to return them nor want to do so. You arch against him, crushing your chest onto his.

The second you part from him with a gasp, blissed out with the taste of him still on your lips, you shiver at the sight of his half lidded eyes, dark cocoa alight with the crimson tide you know so well, full of need and desperation.

His hands come up to your front, pulling the tie loose with a dumbfounded, sleepy smirk.

Your breasts bounce free from the blood-red ribbon. His broad hands slide to your back, pulling you into him as he takes one tit in his mouth, sucking and kissing, groaning with every breath he stops to take. You feel each sound he lets out, vibrating deep in his chest.

Breathing shallow and quickened, you let your pelvis lower until the girth of his hard cock brushes against the silky fabric of your thong. 

His hips buck into you reflexively, eliciting a soft whimper out of you. 

Detaching from the tender flesh of your breasts, he pulls you down to taste your lips once more, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with the way he swallows every whisper of his name that rivers into the kiss.

Unbeknownst to you, he hooks his fingers around the elastic straps around your ass and thighs, pulling on the strings only to release them, making them whip your skin with a loud smack.

You arch your back further into him, grinding into his erection in the process. He grunts abruptly, no longer able to hold back.

With expert ease, he drags at the straps holding your panties, ripping them at the joints. Before you can yelp and protest, he pushes the mushroom head of his already leaking cock into your folds.

You clench at the contact, anchoring your hands on his stout shoulders as you sink onto his dick. He watches your greedy cunt swallow him, inch by inch, until he bottoms out, his pubes brushing right against your clit.

You start rolling your hips, feeling his whole dick slip out half way only to push back in against your guts, grazing every mind-numbing nerve in its wake. You’re utterly delirious, and so is he.

His vision targets your breasts, softly swaying in his face with every mount of your body on his. He stills you momentarily, his massive arms sheathing you in a spine-tingling hold. 

Muffled, pleased hums resonate in his chest, echoing against yours as he squeezes you into him, your tits pressed flush right above his collar. You let a moan crawl out of your throat as he plants rushed, desperate pecks on every spot he can lay his mouth on; your neck, your shoulders, the tops of your breasts. 

The heat of his profound exhales washes over your skin, kindle to a fire. Heedlessly, you arch your back into his hold, pushing yourself into him, your body marinated into his arms the way he loves so much. He thinks he might come right then and there, no friction, no nothing. Just the feeling of you, soft and tender, mollifying further into his possessive touch with every kiss he places on you.

But soon the need for more friction gets the better of him as he starts thrusting into you from below.

You let yourself fall into his forceful arms as he drives his cock in and out of your weeping cunt, face contorting into pure pleasure, eyebrows furrowed and fucked-out eyes squinting.

The bed squeaks under his weight, the bedframe hitting the wall with ever violent push of his cock into you. You feel his abdomen flex against your stomach, his biceps pulling you impossibly close against his feverish skin.

Burying his head in the crook of your neck, his pants turn into moans as his thrusts lose rhythm and strength. It's the hottest thing that's ever reached your ears, and you moan in tandem with him as you reach your climax. 

When he doesn't stop, your whole body starts burning, a blinding firework scattering on the sky. 

Pushing hard into you, as deep as he can be, with a pained, breathless groan, he comes inside your still fluttering pussy. His cock pulsates into you, staining your insides white, the feeling of his warm seed short circuiting you in an aftershock. 

Both of your heads nestled into each other, feverish bodies moulded together in a suffocating embrace, his lips start ghosting over your neck, a silent praise for taking him so good.

"You should wear this more often, mi vida." he breathes into your mouth.

"I would, if you hadn't ripped it." You tease back, evidently turned on by his antics.

"No te preocupes. (Don't worry.) I'll buy you more."

a/n: yes im obviously in love with the vacation with miguel trope, hope you like this<33 it turned out longer than expected

[hboww2rewatch]

Welcome to HBO's WWII Fandom Rewatch!

You are cordially invited to join us in watching Band of Brothers, The Pacific, and Masters of the Air in chronological order April 29 - July 14, 2024.

We will be watching three episodes a week and will have prompts to boost fandom creation as we watch together!

You can find the episode schedule and prompts below the cut. Individual posts can be found here and here if you prefer shorter posts.

If you are unable to watch the show at the same time as the schedule, no worries. While we are personally planning to liveblog together the episodes per the schedule, we understand everyone has lives outside of tumblr. Watch whenever you are able - our goal is to bond over our love for these shows and experience them again together. Pop in when you are able! :)

Please tag all your posts during this event with #hboww2rewatch and give us a follow for all updates on the rewatch.

Please reblog this post to spread the word!

Schedule:

We are tentatively planning to watch Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturdays, but that is not set in stone - watch when you are able during the week!

Week 1: Mon April 29- Sun May 5

The Pacific E1  (Dec ‘41- Oct ‘42) The Pacific E2  (Oct ‘42) The Pacific E3  (Dec ‘42- Fall ‘43)

Week 2: Mon May 6- Sun May 12

Masters of the Air E1  (Spring ‘43) Masters of the Air E2  (Spring ‘43) Masters of the Air E3   (Aug ‘43)

Week 3: Mon May 13- Sun May 19

Masters of the Air E4 (Oct ‘43) Masters of the Air E5 (Oct ‘43) Masters of the Air E6 (Oct ‘43)

Week 4: Mon May 20- Sun May 26

The Pacific E4  (Dec ‘43) Masters of the Air E7  (march ‘44) Band of Brothers E1  (June ‘44)

Week 5: Mon May 27- Sun June 2

Masters of the Air E8  (June ‘44) Band of Brothers E2  (June 6, ‘44) Band of Brothers E3  (June 7, ‘44)

Week 6: Mon June 3- Sun June 9

The Pacific E5  (Sept ‘44) Band of Brothers E4  (Sept ‘44) The Pacific E6  (Sept-Oct ‘44)

Week 7: Mon June 10- Sun June 16

Band of Brothers E5  (Oct ‘44) The Pacific E7  (Oct-Dec ‘44) Band of Brothers E6  (Dec ‘44)

Week 8: Mon June 17- Sun June 23

Band of Brothers E7  (Jan ‘45) Band of Brothers E8  (Feb ‘45) The Pacific E8  (Feb ‘45)

Week 9: Mon June 24- Sun June 30

Band of Brothers E9  (April ‘45) The Pacific E9  (April-June ‘45) Masters of the Air E9  (Feb-June ‘45)

Week 10: Mon July 1- Sun July 7

Band of Brothers E10  (May-Aug ‘45) The Pacific E10  (Aug ‘45) Saving Private Ryan (Bonus event)

Week 11: Mon July 8- Sun July 14 - post rewatch events to encourage fellow fans!

Reblog people’s creations

Leave comments on fics

Consider making a new friend in someone else who participated

Prompts:

Week 1: Mon April 29- Sun May 5:

Heading Out

First Fight

Friends

Orange

Week 2: Mon May 6- Sun May 12:

Crash

Crew

Superstition

Blue

Week 3: Mon May 13- Sun May 19:

Dancing

Reunion

Kinship

Red

Week 4: Mon May 20- Sun May 26:

Recuperation

Camp Life

Training

Green

Week 5: Mon May 27- Sun June 2:

Tuskeegees

Parachute

Injured

Purple

Week 6: Mon June 3- Sun June 9

Reunited

Replacement

Airfield

White

Week 7: Mon June 10- Sun June 16:

Typewriter

Loss

Cold

Pink

Week 8: Mon June 17- Sun June 23:

Shelling

Translation

Wedding

Brown

Week 9: Mon June 24- Sun June 30:

Discovery

Humanity

Celebration

Yellow

Week 10: Mon July 1- Sun July 7:

Bonding

Adjustment

Sacrifice

Dress Uniform

Black

Week 11 Mon July 8- Sun July 14:

Favorite Crew

Favorite Company

Best Friendship

Humor

Underrated Character

Character + Quote

Headcanons

Crossover

Something Missing

[matramancer]

NARUMI GEN WITH A MITSURI! LIKE READER🌸

🌸Synopsis: Although the elite forces of the first division were known for how strict and stern they are, there stands a girl who seems to act the polar opposite.

Mitsuri! reader masterlist

tags: narumi x reader, fem!reader, reader is similar to Mitsuri from KNY, fluff, reader is kikoru’s mentor sort of, narumi is a loser, can be platonic but might lean into romantic later on

Right off the bat, it’s no secret that the 1st Division is filled with elites. Led by Japan’s strongest, Gen Narumi, it houses some of the most talented, toughest hard hitters the Defense Force could be proud of.

Though most seem tight-lipped and stern, there exists one exception… one whose face full of smiles and bright demeanor seemed to make her shine amidst her more reserved peers.

You were thought of as a sort of spectacle in the Defense Force by newcomers and veterans alike. In a place where certain death came close often, where many souls have been hardened, you still greeted your comrades with a smile, your voice booming and sweet, gushing over delicious sakura mochi and voicing straightforward compliments to other officers with unparalleled excitement. 

You were kind of the exact opposite of what one would envision a strong member of the corps. At least, compared to the serious and foreboding image that belonged to people like Captain Narumi.

In fact, everyone could agree that seeing the two of you next to each other when duty calls always felt jarring. 

Despite his rather unruly, loser like behavior, Narumi was able to keep up his cool image once he suited up, his large and foreboding bayonet casting a large shadow as if to intimidate those who laid eyes on him (no one would guess that he was knee deep in a Yamazon addiction and pushing his rank on shooter games an hour prior). His soldiers were no different.

And there you were, a bright ray of sunshine with red dusted cheeks full of smiles. There was absolutely no way to hide your lively expression as you gushed over how cool Shinonome was, how Kikoru looked absolutely amazing with her axe, how you even complimented Kafka’s determined expression. 

“Shinonome-chan! You’re as cool as always!” “The feel I’m getting from Kikoru-chan is so intense!” “Aaa! Kafka is working so hard today.” Your expression held all that you had to say.

And of course, the compliments you had for Narumi were just as intense, and served as fuel for the fire that was his ego. 

Although you came from a great place, it’d be really troublesome if he got too into his head about it, so before Narumi could ever feel the sweet wave of ego boosts headed to his way, Hasegawa would already be behind him, chopping the top of his head with a hand as he orders the captain to focus (he sulks a bit outside of missions about this, glaring at the other officers who were privy to what he couldn’t indulge in).

“If your personality wasn’t as trashy, maybe we’d actually let you hear (y/n)’s compliments.” 

“ISN’T SHE ONE OF MY OFFICERS? WHY WON’T YOU ACTUALLY LET ME NEAR HER? AT LEAST LET ME HEAR MORE ABOUT HOW GREAT I AM–OI!” sulked a very fussy Narumi being scolded by Hasegawa as Shinonome discreetly tugged you further away from him.

Despite your more unorthodox personality and how you were seemingly airheaded at a first glance–not the best look for a fierce warrior, you had amassed a great deal of respect in the Defense Force. There was a reason you made it in the first division, alive and well-loved by everyone around you. 

Because behind your loveable demeanor and slightly childish antics, you were absolutely merciless in battle.

It was always a treat for the personnel in the control room and your veteran officers when newcomers came in and saw you in battle for the first time, gawking at the clearly unexpected jump between what you were like on and off the field.

It was quickly understood how you had amassed so much respect. How swiftly you cleared the breached areas infested with yonju, how you handled a swarm of them all by yourself, how it seemed like you were superhuman as you bent and twirled around in the air, sticking all of your landings and landing hits with such power.

You weren’t an ordinary fighter. Not when you sped past a group of injured officers and promptly took down a kaiju speeding towards them with your feet, before finishing the job with a large blast that felt unfathomable from the gun you were holding. 

Not with how you tore apart the yonju with what felt like pure strength, even with your high combat power. It largely baffled the people in the control room as they cross checked your initial assessment with your on field vitals, scrambling over the discovery of how your muscles were denser and seemed to display a sense of strength multiple times stronger than the common man. Paired with the grueling training you endured in the first division and the adrenaline from the imminent threat you were facing, you were a beast.

Yet, you never lost touch of your real self. Never let the losses numbed you in the line of work you chose. You mourned, you wept, yet you kept smiling, your touch warm to the new recruits who caught a major loss in their batch after a major kaiju attack, your words of encouragement and gentle smiles receiving more and more appreciation as your time in the first division turned from weeks to months to years. 

By the time battles became commonplace for you, you had caught the heads of many in the upper command, including the gaze of Narumi Gen, who, had he not seen your feats in person, wouldn’t be able to believe that the girl who awkwardly tripped from excitement and owed 50 push ups on her first day on the job was the same girl who was able to hold her own against a daikaiju before reinforcements came.

It was a large fight that required heavy backup in the wake of a sudden daikaiju appearance, following what was initially a smaller operation in a remote landmark. With only the small team from the prior operation dispatched at the time, Narumi was immediately called for backup.

He listened intently on how the mission was progressing. How half the squad had nearly been wiped out. Not injured, gone. Help was still over twenty minutes away by helicopter.

“We’re rerouting your squadron to team B,” one of the operators spoke into his earpiece. “The daikaiju attack separated them several kilometers away. Prioritize the survivors.” 

“Understood.” The loss of lives was unfortunately something you never had the time to grief over in a time and place like this. That was something Narumi knew very well. So, he simply prepares for the drop, listening in to the comms.

And then, the unexpected happened.

“High energy readings detected from zone A!”

“This–this is all from?!--”

A series of giant blasts alongside the roar of the daikaiju ravaged through the air and sea, just at their drop point. Alarms blared as their squad carefully regained their balance, weapons at the ready. “Confirm the other source of the blasts! We don’t know if it’s from another kaiju or something else!”

It had been twenty minutes since the start of the operation. The vitals of the large majority of the remaining officers had been detected near the safe zone they’ve enforced, with Narumi’s team now ordered for subjugation. As Narumi makes his way to the collision zone, he feels a strong, foreboding aura, the same one that must have taken part in that earlier series of blasts.

“It’s…” The comms blare up as the drone accompanying his squadron scans the vicinity. Although he was on high alert from the threat. knowing what they were up against, nothing could have prepared him for the sight he was about to see next. 

“--Officer (L/N) (Y/N)!” As your name rang through his ears, Narumi’s eyes widened as he saw your worn out figure balancing the machine gun left behind by your platoon leader, severely injured–but alive.

And the look in your eyes was merciless.

It was a rare occasion, something that had seldomly ever happened in his time at the Force, where Narumi had internally taken a step back in astoundment. As if the seer desperation and aura you carried manifested physically, telling people a story with no words.

It was you, the officer holding on against a large class Kaiju in those mere twenty minutes all by herself, hoisting the machine gun your platoon leader entrusted to you.

“Captain Narumi,” you spoke with so much respect, even in such a state. The same girl that was so smiley and bouncy in the dining halls, the girl that kept gushing over cute cats and how exciting love could be. The sweet cadet who was akin to sakura mochi. “I’ve led the rest of my team to the rendezvous zone. Please, let me hel…”

All you remembered next was everything fading to black, hearing a final sentence from the captain himself. “You worked hard, (L/N). Leave the rest to me.” 

He later learned that you hacked, slashed, and had fired so many rounds, you weakened the entire constitution of the Kaiju, so much so that you had basically cleared a path for him.

And in doing so, you also caught Narumi Gen’s eye. He even ended up vouching for the clearance of your special weapon himself.

He came to not only respect you, but to learn more about you. 

Your cheeriness was something that was quite new for him to grasp. You were so eager and outspoken, yet at the same time emotional and bashful. He still remembers how you became a flustered mess when he personally came to visit your hospital room after your run in with the aforementioned daikaiju, your hands flailing around in embarrassment as you choked on your food at his presence (was this the same girl that shot that kaiju in the eye at point blank?)

Don’t get him started on when you were to report to the higher ups about the daikaiju, coinciding with the meeting to discuss your promotion.

Could it have been worse? Definitely. But it was certainly still an interesting sight as you attempted to answer the question regarding your fight with the daikaiju.

Okay, maybe you got a bit too excited… “When I saw the daikaiju, it was like GWAHHH and then my heart felt like BAM BAM BAM, but then it went WHOOOOOMMMMM as we ran around the entire forest, THEN THEN THENNNN!!!! GAAAAAAHHH–”

“--and!” your breath hitched as you caught yourself mid burst. There, you could not only feel Narumi, Hasegawa, and some other senior officers staring at you, but even Director General Shinomiya. Your lips pursed into an extremely awkward smile as realization daunted upon you.

“...My apologies,” you bowed with your entire body, your forehead hitting the floor. “I’ll try to explain it again.”

Narumi couldn’t tell if he was mortified or still in disbelief. More mortified than you maybe. It felt like his soul had been sucked out. Even Hasegawa was at a loss for words, glaring at him from the side of his eye. Ah shit. 

“I promise she has potential,” he swore to Isao after in his office, also experiencing second hand embarrassment. “Please… please don’t mind her.”

Present day, you had earned your spot as a formidable part of the first division as a platoon leader, inheriting your late senior’s position alongside their weapon, worthy from strength alone. 

But things were a bit different with Narumi now, even with the man’s result oriented resolve.

Because it wasn’t just your raw power that made up your strength, it was your being—what made you, you. And it was daunting for Narumi, an entirely new avenue of consideration for him.

He never really thought about it, but your personality was the key factor that really placed the significance you had for him. 

It wasn’t like you lacked strength. No, you were definitely on par with Kikoru. If he wasn’t training her, he could find the blonde tagging along with you, with you beaming in excitement as you smothered her in compliments and encouragement. You had your full trust in her and her future, something Narumi didn’t voice out as verbally.

Likewise could be said for Kikoru—she had absolute trust in you and how powerful you were, eager to have you teach her your mid air maneuvers. Narumi encouraged it, actually. You both carried heavy weaponry into the field, packing a particularly mean punch. She could pick up a thing or two.

But he also remembers you as the girl smiling ear to ear as she asked him about his figure collection. The girl who was always honest with her compliments, even though Hasegawa would make sure that your words wouldn’t reach him. The girl who rushed headfirst to comfort a child after defeating a kaiju together with him, a warm smile akin to summer warmth.

“It’s ok now,” Narumi perks up, fixing his grip on his bayonet as he turns to watch you crouch down to some rubble. “The bad kaiju is gone. You can come out.”

The child trembles in fear, seeing Narumi with his big weapon might’ve confused him even more. “It’s okay,” you softly held out your hand, Narumi watching from behind in intrigue. “That’s Narumi-niichan. He got rid of the bad guys. He’s a friend.”

Slowly, the child crawls over to you, and you hoist him up to your arms. “Are you hungry? It’s almost time for dinner. How about we look for your mama and papa together? They must be worried.”

He sniffles a bit. Speaking a few names. You ask again out of curiosity. “My sisters…” 

Narumi stiffens as he feels a few more pairs of eyes around them. Noticing them as well, your mouth forms a small “O”, before smiling again. “I’ll carry all of you to your mom and pops then! I’ll make it super fun!”

Narumi watched in bewilderment as you balanced a total of four kids on your upper body, making your way to the closest shelter. 

“I promise to report back! Kids, say thank you to Narumi-niichan!” A chorus of high pitched voices thanking him broke the silence before you excused yourself, leaving the captain alone.

That was a show of your feats of strength—your true strength, Narumi realizes.

You were certainly a remarkable character in the force, and he’d never change that. 

Slowly but surely, your presence definitely left a mark on him. He also learns about your big appetite, and it became a common sight to see the two of you together at the dining hall, heaps of trays on your side as Narumi gamed on his handheld beside you.

“You know, Narumi-kun,” your voice held that same cheerful note that was as soft as early spring, eyes shining in pure delight. “When I see those delicious fried onigiri they serve in the dining hall, I get hungry again!!” You beam, before regaining your composure. “Ah, don’t tell anyone else ok?”

He secretly puts in the word to make it a permanent meal, alongside your favorite foods. Hasegawa definitely notices.

Narumi enjoys sparring with you. Though he is boastful of his own strength, honed by Isao himself, your midair techniques and combat keep you a fresh and interesting opponent. Likewise, Narumi tested your finesse. Despite the physical prowess you carried, you still had to hone your skill, and Narumi was one of the best players in the game as of now. It kept the rounds interesting.

The two of you also fight really well together.

Which would you rather die from? Squadron Style Bayonet Technique Number Two: Slash Salvo, or Sixth Form: Cat Legged Winds of Love?

Spoiler: both of them. With your high physical prowess and insane flexibility, you’re one of if not the only officer in the first division able to directly tag team alongside Narumi, with his otherwise individualistic fighting preference.

If Hasegawa’s role was to actually keep the division in check, giving orders to the other soldiers while Narumi sped forward, you were the second DPS (Narumi’s gamer terms) following ensuite. You could be beside him, being his second heavy hitter to clear the path, or a reliable tank to decimate other formidable foes that Narumi wasn’t occupied with.

On the occasions where the two of you partnered up together to fight a particularly tricky kaiju, that was when the peak of your techniques used together would come into play. Acting as two heavy hitters, Narumi focuses on taking out the main body, alternating between slashes and shots.

Should the Kaiju be able to handle his regular onslaught of attacks, then it might think it’ll stand a chance, but make no mistake. When its limbs or other means of attack come into play, you’ve already lunged forward with your other special weapon—one especially crafted for you after your innate flexibility—the whip-like sword completely unique to any other weapon found in the force. Its first and only bearer.

 The kaiju lets out a painful shriek as you slice its many tendrils up into ribbons, stopping any of them from even reaching Narumi. With every attempt to regenerate, every attempt in seething anger to launch attacks to your captain, you never failed to get in the way, lodging yourself in between and countering until its regeneration couldn’t keep up. If Narumi wanted an opening, then it’s your job as a platoon leader to get it done. “CAPTAIN!”

Although the two of you work well in battle, Narumi always scoffs a bit at how flashy your techniques are, a reoccuring theme in the 1st Division. “Show off,” he thinks to himself—being completely hypocritical—smiling as he readied his final stance. With Squadron Style Bayonet, the battle was over, the core taken out.

Upon returning to base, Narumi had already fished you for dozens of compliments, to the disdain of Hasegawa.

“Please don’t take advantage of the good and honest nature of our Platoon Leader,” the 1st division officers sigh, watching as Hasegawa scolds him to no end again.

You’re one of the Defense Forces’ officers that Narumi acknowledges and respects, great enough to fight alongside him. A strong feat courtesy of all the hard work and determination you’ve put with your time in the force, which only made you more admirable.

In fact, as Narumi and General Shinomiya convene in a meeting, discussing the future endeavors needed to ensure the future of the Defense Force, your name alongside others came to mind. With your years of service and direct surveillance from him and Narumi, your potential has never ceased to cap itself.

You were essential in the young generation that was to take over.

And maybe, just maybe, when it’s time to break the news…

Narumi runs his hands through the documents in his grip, your photo ID, credentials, and combat assessment printed in fine ink.

You’d rise for the potential of your own numbers suit.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

A/N: Ahhhhh Narumi, Mitsuri!reader and Kikoru’s relationship is so cute… i want to make a part 2 with their dynamics.