#request i did for that thingy
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A lovely Wortox request
#wortox#wortox dst#dst#FOR MY FRIEND MY FRIEND WORTOX#YAAA HOOOOOO YEAAAAH#my art#ask#request i did for that thingy#shitty background practice as per always#but wortox looks cuite pie as always
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Weekly progress report
Reblog rate: 250 per day
Progress: 96133 / 141382
Estimated time: 12th of April 2025
#[trigunpostarchive]#[infotag]#trigun#trigun stampede#trigun maximum#trigun stargaze#I'm looking at the last two weeks#and boy did that first scrapping run miss soooooo many posts#I'm glad I've upgraded it#also friendly reminder that any post can be deleted at the request from the OP#I should try doing that chart thingy again see how it changes
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I wrote a whole ass idea of the first years finding mcs phone and showing it the rest of the dorms did I not press send? I sent the roach message after😭
Yes it did I respond slow to asks homie
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Merman Joseph and Merman Caesar both in the aquarium. Suzi Q is their caretaker
Joseph was later found dead floating in the shark tank and nobody knows how he got there in the first place
#i probably forgot some details on Joseph’s bottom half so uhhhhhhhhhh if i did. pretend they’re there and that im actually always#good at remembering things and never forgetting details ever#(i had to put in caesar’s headband thingies after i finished drawing the whole thing)#thanks for the request!!!! mermen that share a braincell and their endlessly optimistic caretaker will now be rotating in my brain forever#jjba#suzi q#suzie q#whichwevr one works!!!!!!!!!#joseph joestar#caesar zeppeli#my art !! :]#asks !! :]#jjba merfolk au
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"What are we?" "Human, at least I hope we still are."
For TsubaKuro obviously
Me? In a horror mood? Why never ever! Now with more mad science shit!
(TW: Graphic Descriptions of Injuries (Bone Malalignment), Body/Transformation Horror, Past Human Experimentation (Well, Youkai Experimentation, but the sentiment still applies))
The flicker of busted ceiling lights was the hazy sight that greeted Kuroji when consciousness began trickling back to them.
What... happened...? Was the first clear thought that came to their slushy mind. The rest were vague ideas and shards of memories without any sort of coherency. It was like they, the person and the body they inhabit, had turned to mush.
Kuroji hears someone groan. It takes a moment for them to realize that someone was actually Kuroji themself, their tongue lolling out of their mouth like a gaping moron.
It took them another moment to realize they were leaning against some kind of flat surface. Well, lean wasn't exactly the right word. Their mind was too foggy to think of the proper word for being bent into a right angle against said flat surface, so "lean" will have to do.
Another groan forces itself from their lips. Slowly, sensation starts to return to their body. It starts from their jaw and throat, then spreads down to their chest and up to the rest of their head. Their fingers twitch as feeling overflows through them again, the splinters of corroded wood still slightly chilled from...from...
...What caused this? It's all coming back to them now...
They had agreed to help with some kind of...experiment? Study? ...Yes, experiment. They remember being asked to bring someone here...Wherever here is again...For...Some kind of extraction? Of what? The answer floats away from them the moment they reach out to touch it.
Kuroji raises a trembling hand up to their temple, massaging it. Come on...Work stupid brain...
Some kind of explosion occurred. The last thing they vividly remember is the wide-eyed expression on...
...Tsubakura? Oh shit, Tsubakura!
"Tsu...Tsubakura?" They croak out, bleary eyes scanning their filmy surroundings for any sign of the monochrome figure or their top hat, "Are you...Are you here?"
A moment of silence passes. Kuroji is almost convince that Tsubakura is either still unconscious, isn't in the room at all, or...No, they wouldn't perish from this, would they?!
But then, they hear it. A loud cough somewhere across the room, followed by the sound of debris being shuffled about. A small smile forms at the corners of their mouth, all the tension suddenly seizing their body at their earlier fears draining away in an instant.
"Ugh...Yeah...Still alive. I take it...you made it too?"
"...What do you...think...?" Their voice sounded hoarse, parched and sore, like they needed a glass of water. They probably did, if they were out for a long while like they suspect.
"Good... I'd miss your stupid face if you did die from that."
Kuroji can just hear the wry grin they are making in their direction. Their heart skips a beat at what they were implying, but they pay it no heed. They didn't want to think about that when they were barely conscious as is.
"Shut up..." They shake their head gently (more to be mindful of it than to communicate properly), "What...happened...?"
"You mean you don't remember?"
"I do...Details are just...more than a little fuzzy..." Kuroji blinks rapidly, trying to clear their vision. And maybe, just maybe, find the strength to stand.
A groan, "You're no fun...Why can't you be like Yabusame and bounce back from a small explosion or two?"
"Because...I'm not Yabusame-kun? What kind of question...is that?" They try to roll their eyes. This is probably why they're never asked to help out during experiments. They ask too many questions, and can't take as much punishment.
Hell, Kuroji is pretty sure the only reason they got asked to be their assistant for this one was because they were the only one who could reliably catch Saragimaru!
Wait...
...Ah.
If Kuroji wasn't awake before, they were now. Their vision clears away to blinding lights, breath coming in short gasps. Everything was coming back to them now. And with it a very important question.
"Saragimaru...Where is Saragimaru?!"
"Gone, it seems. Must've busted out of their restraints after knocking that vial over," A sigh, followed by more shuffling of debris, "Ugh, inhaling so much pure mana could not have been good. Must've caused that explosion when it touched the bunsen burner too..."
Kuroji swallows hard. So that's what Tsubakura wanted Saragimaru for, huh? They long learned the hard way that you shouldn't mess with magic, but it seems they never got that message, now did they?
And considering how... spectacular, to put it mildly, Tsubakura's failures in the lab typically are...
"You told me...This was a simple venom extraction...Not some kind of experiment with fucking magic!" Kuroji hisses.
"Duh! If I had, you wouldn't have let me get past Step 1. Maybe Step 2 if I was lucky."
Kuroji grits their teeth. They can just hear the half-hearted shrug they were making at them. It made them want to punch the smug grin they knew they were making right off their face.
If only everything wasn't so, so sore...
That's when a hand enters their line of sight. Their eyes naturally follow the hand up to the figure above them.
Sure enough, it was Tsubakura Enraku, only a little worse for the wear. Their hat was crooked and their clothes had more than a few tears, but that was nothing a good patch job couldn't fix. They weren't in fact smirking like Kuroji thought they would be, but only because their eyes were wandering over their body, lips pressed into a feigned neutral line.
"Geez...Can you even move?" They ask, brows drawing together, "You don't...look so good."
Ah, there was the bite. They had a feeling they must've been injured in the accident. Probably in the back or a leg given how much those ache. Kuroji shudders as they take Tsubakura's hand, "I can move my arms at least..."
"That's somethin'. Now here's the better question: Can you walk?"
"That's...A very good question," They admit.
"Well then let's find out. On a one...On a two..."
Kuroji doesn't even get time to prepare themself. Not that Tsubakura ever does anything on three. Two, if you were lucky, and this time is no different. The next thing they know, they were being peeled away from the operating table, and yanked to their feet.
...
...They should not be walking.
"...Agh!" Kuroji bites down on their lip to keep from screaming. All they could focus on was the blinding pain radiating from their leg, impossible to keep on the ground.
When they became aware of their surroundings once more, Tsubakura had slung their arm around their neck, keeping them upright.
"Guess not..."
They help lift Kuroji onto the operating table. The restraints used to tie Saragimaru down were now mere ribbons of leather, some of which are scattered across the whole lab. The whole table is drenched in rainwater mixed with blood (that was probably Kuroji's from earlier). Whatever happened after their slave got loose, they did a damn good job destroying the lab, without ever even lifting a finger to harm either of them.
Which is, quite frankly, rather odd considering how much that snake likes to talk about their future slow, agonizing death. But the stressed look on Tsubakura's face brought them out of their intrusive worries and into their present ones.
Kuroji lays down without much of a fuss. Though they couldn't help themself when they ask, "What? Not gonna bring me back to your room for a...more further examination, as you typically call it?"
A snort escaped Tsubakura's throat, their tongue sticking out, "Oh hah hah. You must think yourself clever for throwing my words back in my face."
They shrug, "Perhaps a little. Like I could ever best you in that department, but I ought to take a little victory every once in a while, yes?"
"...I guess. Although it's kinda hard to take you back to my room with the number your stupid snake did to my lab entrance. So we're sitting ducks until Yabusame or Sensei can dig us out! ...Just to answer your question."
Their smirk doesn't reach their eyes. Kuroji lets their head fall back, letting out a deep breath they didn't realize they had took, "...How bad is it, Dr. Enraku?"
(They won't call them "Doc" like Hoojiro had. This smug ass who bewitched their sister does not deserve that informality, even now. Not that they ever, ever notice...)
"Well let's see..."
Tsubakura gets to work almost immediately. They start by grabbing their injured leg and feeling it up. Kuroji closes their eyes tightly, bracing for when they find the fracture.
"Hm...Mm?"
...The strike of agony never leaves its mark. Kuroji cracks open one eye, catching a glimpse of Tsubakura's pinched expression, a raised eyebrow the only hint as to its cause.
"...Well, you apparently don't have a fracture somehow. In fact, your leg would probably be working just fine if not for the impossible angle and the swelling."
...Huh? "How...?"
"I dunno," Tsubakura lets go of their leg, much to Kuroji's relief, "You have more symptoms of a broken bone healing wrong than an actual broken bone. Hence my confusion."
...That makes literally no sense, even by the madness of this lab's standards. Kuroji couldn't have been out for more than a day at most, and their leg was working just fine when they first came down here. So how could they have such an injury?
"Did you develop some kind of accelerated healing factor or something?" Tsubakura jokes, a wry grin plastering itself on their face, "Cause the only explanation I can think of is 'you broke your leg in the initial chaos and it healed itself wrong while you were out."
"No!" They shout. Then, the fight drains from their body as they stare up blankly at the ceiling, "At least...I don't think I have..."
But now that they had proposed the idea, it made a disturbing amount of sense. After all, now that they are really thinking about it, they didn't have a single scratch on their body besides the leg.
Neither did Tsubakura, for that matter. In fact, Kuroji swears they can see patches of scales on their hand, collar, face...
Kuroji must've made a face or something, because Tsubakura's eyes have widened, their delicate, tactile hands having turned to tight fists. (And were those claws where fingernails normally are?)
"Alright Kuroji, what's with the face? You don't just pale at anything, so what's wrong?"
They were...pale? They went pale? They were usually much better at hiding their more... cumbersome feelings, especially under Tsubakura's hawkish eyes. But they couldn't help it for this. Not when...When...
No...There's no way...
"...Forgive me for this. I just need to test a theory."
"Huh? What do you mean by-" And that's all they manage to get out before Kuroji's hand claws at their arm. Or at least tries to. Fatigue infecting every inch of their body meant only a couple red slashes were formed, but it was more than enough.
"Ngh!" Tsubakura staggers back, clutching their arm, "What the hell was that for?!"
"Testing a theory, like I said I was." Kuroji shakes their head, jaw hurting from how hard they were clenching it, "Watch."
Tsubakura yanks their sleeve down, revealing the red welds from Kuroji's "attack" once again, "What the hell could ever require you to-"
Their grumbling abruptly stops. Now they too are making a wide-eyed expression.
They both watch as the welds shrink, folding away, until all of it has faded back into Tsubakura's normal skin tone, good as new. Well that just proves it then, huh?
Kuroji's breath hitches, "Ah...I knew it. Thanks for being my willing test subject..."
They couldn't even snicker at Tsubakura's irritated snort. They were too busy wishing the operating table would fold in on them.
For if Tsubakura had the same accelerated healing factor they seem to have, and they were quickly...They don't even know at this point, then...
Then what did it mean for Kuroji themself?
Kuroji drags their hands up in front of their face. They look like their hands: normal human hands, with all the same old scars from countless injuries as they invent or dig. But then they notice how their fingernails are tipped, ever so slightly sharp. Hiding razor sharp talons, no doubt.
Just like Tsubakura's.
"...What are we?!" Kuroji asks with no recipient in mind, voice warbling from near hysteria. They knew the answer, but at least a question can be answered with a comforting lie, unlike the blanket statement their mind wanted them to confront.
"Human. At least I hope we still are..." Tsubakura replies, the waver in their voice uncomfortably noticeable. Never have they ever wanted them to be right about anything as hard as right now.
And yet, as they watch Tsubakura itch at their collar, the flaking off of skin to reveal similarly colored scales was going out of its way to prove them wrong. They look at the patch, then their nails, and all the certainty leaves their voice as they mumble a quiet, "Shit..."
If Tsubakura's pale expression was the expression they had pointed out Kuroji had, then that isn't a good sign at all. And to make matters worse, as if watching them do it triggered something inside them, various spots on their arm began to itch like mad, begging them to scratch at them.
They didn't want to, and yet their hand moves automatically to perform the motion. And sure enough, flakes of skins fell away to reveal scales of their own. Kuroji kept scratching at the scales, praying for it to all be a cruel prank, and found only pain and blood for their efforts.
And not even that lingered for longer than a moment. It was enough to drive even a hardened scoundrel like Kuroji Shitodo to tears.
"...What have you done?!"
"I dunno...Heh heh..." Tsubakura pants, their legs shaking. They rub their back, tears forming in their eyes, "I...probably shouldn't have done this...All of this...Should I?
"What...Do you think?" Kuroji huffs out, blinking back tears, "Whatever happens next, I want you to know this is all your fault. Even if you die."
Tsubakura reels back, as if slapped. It wasn't undeserved in the slightest. But even so, the pitiful way their figure seems to shamble back made a twinge of guilt stab Kuroji in the chest...
"Hah...I think...I'd deserve that...There's no coming back from this, is there?" They let out a light laugh, as if this was merely a prank gone awry. The scratching at their back becomes a full blown madness, a struggle to take off their vest and shirt even, "My back...Hurts like hell..."
And then, like someone had flipped their killswitch, Tsubakura falls backwards into an overturned table behind them. Kuroji doesn't have the energy to raise their head up to see, but from the sudden tearing and scratching at the ground, they didn't think they wanted to see what caused that.
And when that morphed into screams and muscles tearing, they knew they definitely didn't want to see.
It's so funny...They think to themself as a throbbing started in their backside, I wanted to see Tsubakura scream someday.
But not like this. Never like this...
They wanted to take those last words full of venom back. Apologize even. But as the throbbing worsened and worsened into full blown burning, Kuroji's remorse left in favor of bracing for agony.
After all, this was only the beginning of a long, long transformation. Days of agony awaited both of them, no doubt.
They close their eyes, sobs echoing as their body prepares itself for its next phase. All they can do is sink into the biting metal of the operating table, and hope someone, anyone, manages to find them sooner rather than later.
And hopefully before both of them lose their minds.
Psst, hey! My requests are still open! Checked these two links here for details in the tags!
#ask and you shall receive (writing requests)#len'en#len'en project#len'en fanfiction#tsubakura enraku#kuroji shitodo#I felt like doing one of those “experiment gone wrong” thingies Len'en writers sometimes do#where Tsubakura ends up hurting themself and/or someone else in the process#of course here they screwed up big time#I'm not really sure how I feel about this one#But I wanted to mess around with my more ''stream of conscious'' writing styles#and actual body horror#So I did#I didn't even edit this properly lol#hope it's decent!#tw body horror#transformation#tw experimentation#tw injury#the supergenius sorta rivalry (tsubakura & kuroji)
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my mom was applying for new teaching jobs recently and apparently in one of her interviews the principal brought up me being trans bc he heard it from my high school vice principal like HUH
#i talked to him about my schedule once bc our guidance counselor quit 2 weeks into my senior year#but I didn't evne know he knew i was trans? one of the receptionists did mention it to me once to say i could request a new diploma#and i uhh semi-illegally wrote my chosen name on my nametag thingy at graduation and had it read out#so it's not like inconceivable especially bc by the time i graduated all my teachers and peers mostly knew but#i just never bothered going through administration and asking for help there bc i knew they'd say no#especially by senior year when it was straight up illegal regardless of their opinions#so i was... surprised. and also it's weird to bring up in an interview but she did know this lady prior & it's a small town#but like AUGH. The Population of my small town now knows me as The Transgender#AND at some point i will need to contact my old internship ppl and tell them my name changed to use them as a reference so#not even just the school board but also the city council will know. and not just bc their kids went to high school with me.
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Well, they weren't wrong. Granted, Tsugumi wouldn't usually describe "looking like a walking corpse" to be "better", but then again, they've never been resurrected either. Just seeing Iyozane back up to their lively self after all the sickness and pain was a major improvement, all things considered.
But while they meant it as a small joke, Iyozane had the truth and the lie switched around. The aura of Iyozane's magic was no longer a dull, everpresent hum of shallow waves, but a crashing tide that chills them to their bones (literally; the temperature of the room had plummeted the moment they walked in). Their place in the hierarchy has changed. Newborn youkai, Their instincts told them.
And while Fumikado, still that themself, may not realize it, they definitely sensed it too, going by their loud gasp.
"Iyozaneee, you have fangs now!"
Iyozane's eyes widened slightly, a couple fingers pressing into their sunken cheek as if to check. Those fingers soon waved away their concerns, "Fangs? Oh don't be ridiculous! I feel like I could run a marathon, not eat somebody!"
"Really?! I could've sworn you smelled different! More like a youkai!" Fumikado took a step forward, folding their arms as their nostrils flared, inhaling deeply.
"Nope! Just little old me here! Nothing strange at all!" Iyozane let out a nervous chuckle, their lips parting just enough to reveal they did, in fact, have fangs now, "Although I actually don't feel too hungry right now. Strange, huh?"
O' trust me, ya will soon enough, Tsugumi wanted to say, but didn't. It's only a matter of time before Iyozane realizes their body is their own unique magic, not the fleshy, very unmagical vessel humans were supposed to have. And hopefully, that moment shall be when they knick their lip on their fangs or find they no longer need to breathe, like all undead. Preferably before they had the chance to go feral, lost in the red haze of starvation, and do something they'll regret. Tsugumi wouldn't wish that on anybody.
But perhaps out of some sentiment, perhaps because they wished to spare themself a headache and lecture, Tsugumi chose to do nothing to correct this, let them assume their humanity wasn't anything more than uncanny mask now. Fumikado and Iyozane looked so... stupidly happy and relieved that shattering it felt more than a little cruel. And in Tsugumi's long life, this revelation tends to bring human turned youkai to tears.
So for now, Tsugumi drank their tea quietly, observing ans listening to the loud excited banter of their bosses. But deep down, this happiness is transient and they'll have to break it to them. Newborn youkai are especially unstable, after all. They could only wonder when.
“What happened to you?”
“I thought I became a monster at first. Turns out I was just getting better.”
#prompts I actually did use in the future (prompt fills)#tsugumi umatachi#fujiwara no iyozane#taira no fumikado#when being a dumbass intersects with becoming a youkai...#...yeah I got nothing#I wrote this while half-asleep lol#I will say though that man youkai! Iyozane needs to be more of a thing#considering their companions and the penchant for resurrections have unfortunate side effects#I really would love to devote a full thingy to these three as youkai#but I have no plot ideas for it...#...when I open up my requests this summer#please don't forget to remind me and give suggestions#so that I have to do it lol#forming an empire is hard (new emperor team)
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can i request a reader who can’t admit she’s upset with one the marauders (or all)? like refuses to cry…only if you’re comfortable of course. thank you :)
Thank you for requesting gorgeous!
modern au
Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
The smell of smoke coming from the kitchen is the first sign that Sirius has tipped over from resentment into remorse.
“Jesus,” you open the front door on your way into the kitchen, eyes watering, “what are you doing?”
“I was trying to make rice,” he says, fanning desperately over your pressure cooker, “but I think I’ve fucked it.”
“Do you think so?” Any other day you’d both grin at the harmless snark, but now Sirius’ expression pinches and you think your own must look the same, your tone more biting than you meant for it to be. “It’s fine, it’ll be fine once it airs out. Help me with the windows?”
Sirius acts like it’s a competition, opening three windows before you’ve finished two and looking at you like he’s expecting a pat on the head for it. You try to give him a smile, and his expression clouds over.
“Sorry,” he says, voice not quite cool but oddly remote, “the idea was to surprise you with dinner, and I’ve broken your rice thingy instead.”
“It’s not broken,” you reassure him. “I’m sure it’ll be fine once I clean it out. Why were you trying to make dinner?”
Sirius grimaces. It’s a full body motion, his eyebrows hooking in the middle while the muscles in his forearms shift uncomfortably and his shoulders migrate upward. “Sort of a shitty attempt at an olive branch, I guess.”
Some of the smoke has cleared, and you brave the kitchen. “I don’t need an olive branch,” you say. “If you say we’re good, we’re good.”
“Don’t do that.” He follows you into the kitchen. “I can tell you’re upset, just because—” Sirius hisses when you take the bowl out of the pressure cooker, transferring it swiftly to the sink “—fuck, baby, don’t burn yourself. Let me take care of that later.”
“I’d rather handle it now,” you say, turning on the faucet. “I’m just letting it soak anyway.”
“I’m trying to handle this.” Sturdy hands wrap around your shoulders, turning you to face your boyfriend. He looks at you steadily. “Don’t pretend you’re not angry with me, because I know that you are.”
A spark of annoyance tingles up your spine as you shrug, reaching behind you to turn off the faucet. “I’m not.”
“Can you stop trying to make me feel like an idiot? I know you. You’ve been all stiff since last night.”
“You were angry last night. Not me.”
“Yeah, well it seems to have caught on.”
You turn away from him and back towards the sink, swishing your hand in the cold water of the bowl to dislodge the charred rice sticking to the bottom. You don’t know where Sirius gets off, acting like you’re holding a grudge when he’s the one who shouted at you last night. Your phone had died while you were out with friends. That was all that had happened. You didn’t think anything of it, because Sirius, the only person who would really worry about not being able to reach you, knew you were out and that you’d be home late.
But when you had gotten home, he’d been furious. Gone on and on about how he’d been trying to get a response from you all night, and how dangerous it was to get drunk when you couldn’t call anyone (nevermind that you’d been with your friends), and how freaked out he’d been. He wouldn’t listen to you. He’d only wanted to yell and rage, and make you sit in your heels on the couch while he did it. He’d even seemed like he might be tearing up a couple of times. And you hated to think of him being scared for you, but since when was it your responsibility to answer every time he called? He knew you were with your friends. You hadn’t asked him to check in on you.
He’d gone to bed still fuming and you’d stayed on the couch rather than try to sleep in a hostile bed. Now, inexplicably, his tune seems to have changed.
“So,” Sirius sighs, “this is you not mad, huh?”
“Yup.” You scrub at the bowl with your fingernails.
“I just want a chance to apologize.”
“You can if it’ll make you feel better, but I don’t need it.”
“Why can’t you just admit it?”
“Because I’m not the one who gets pissy about stupid things.” You dislodge a chunk of rice and your hand slips across the bowl, splashing water onto your shirt. “That’s you.”
There’s a second of dense, oppressive silence. When Sirius breaches it, you can hear the smirk in his voice. “There’s my girl. Tell me about the stupid things I got pissy about, would you?”
“It’s nothing.”
“No, it’s not. It wasn’t nothing to me, and clearly it wasn’t to you either. Go on, doll.”
“I don’t want to argue with you.”
“Sure you do.”
“Why do you want to fight so bad?”
“Because,” Sirius says, and you can hear him moving behind you, can all but see him leaning against the counter, the picture of insouciance, “I think you need to get it out of your system.”
You scrub harder at the bowl. Blackened bits of rice float to the top of the water. “Like you do?”
A pause. His voice softens. “It’s not always a good thing. I shouldn’t have shouted at you, last night.” Something in your chest tightens painfully at this new gentle tone. “I’m sorry. I let my temper get the better of me. I was just worried about you.”
“I don’t think that’s my fault,” you say, managing to sound mostly normal. You dump out the contents of the bowl, filling it again with warmer water. “My phone was dead, and I was with my friends. I didn’t need you to worry about me.”
“I just do, when I know you’ve all been drinking, and I can’t talk to you to know you’re okay…” Sirius takes in a breath, breaking your heart with how it sounds like he’s trying to steady himself. “But you’re right, okay? It wasn’t fair.”
“I didn’t know I was coming home to be shouted at.” This time, your voice betrays you, a pitchiness that makes you go quiet fast. You hear Sirius move.
“Sweetheart?” he asks softly. There’s a touch at your elbow. “I’m sorry, baby, please look at me.”
You don’t want to, but you don’t want your embarrassment interpreted as ire. You take a quiet breath before pivoting from the sink. Sirius’ eyes are waiting, sad and fretful as they probe at yours.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, impossibly quieter, and runs his fingers from your elbow up the back of your arm. “It wasn’t your fault, I wasn’t being fair. I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”
You press your lips together, hard. His eyebrows hook up in the middle.
“You can cry, sweet thing. It’s okay.” You shake your head mutely, blinking, and Sirius makes a terribly lovely cooing sound, snaking an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. You hug him back as the first hot tear rolls down your cheek. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Your shoulders jump with a stilted, poorly repressed sob, his grip on you tightening. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby. My temper tantrum really did a number on you, huh?”
You laugh wetly. “Guess so,” you squeak. “Sorry.”
“If you apologize for this, I may shout at you again,” he warns fondly. “You haven’t done anything wrong, lovely girl. Just let it out, if you need to.”
You know that’s not easy for Sirius to say. Know he’s likely close to tears himself, from how agitated seeing other people cry makes him. You appreciate the offer.
You fall into a silence less heavy than any that’s suffocated your home since last night, broken up only by the steady, quiet thumping of Sirius patting your back and the intermittent smooching sounds as he kisses your shoulder or your cheek or the side of your neck. You stand still in your smoky kitchen, wetting your boyfriend’s shoulder with tears and snot, and he lets you.
#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x fem!reader#sirius black x y/n#sirius black x you#sirius black x self insert#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black fanfic#sirius black fic#sirius black angst#sirius black hurt/comfort#sirius black drabble#sirius black imagine#sirius black scenario#sirius black blurb#sirius black oneshot#sirius black one shot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders x reader
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this isn’t a request but you’re the only writer i know who writes the monster!au so
dragon!reader and dragon!price are haunting my thoughts. dragons usually have to hold themselves back when sparring because they’re so much stronger than other monsters but with price & reader they don’t need to, to the point where the other members of the 141 are kinda wondering if they need to intervene.
what they do or don’t know is this is you and price courting, testing each other’s strength to assess whether you’re suitable mates. once you have decided you’re suitable it continues in the bedroom, fighting for dominance and testing each other’s stamina as price rides you or you pin price down and see if he can take all the strength behind your thrusts.
OH god I LOVE the way you think! I know @rodolfoparras also did a dragon price some time ago but I'm happy to let my monsterfucker out lol :D I'll consider this a spitball thingy but GOD DAMN did my hyperfixation hyperfixate on this :Ddd kinda rushed at the end but it's 3AM :/
CW:NSFW
What about if dragons measure not just raw strength, but all other aspects as well? They're prideful by nature and with so little of them remaining no self-respecting dragon will settle for a witless brute or a powerless scribe.
Price had lost hope in finding a mate centuries ago because he's even pickier than most of his kin; in his view, a proper one needs to be strong enough to completely pin him down, needs to be smart enough to see the insults in his honeyed words and give back as good as he does, needs to be clever enough to lead men as good as he does.
A proper mate needs to keep up with him on all levels.
And for a dragon of his age, that's an unachievable set of criteria. Oh sure, many of the dragons he's met over the years have tried to match him, but all fell short, leaving him lonely and unsatisfied.
Then he met you, a fellow Captain, a fellow dragon. Though only a few centuries younger than him, you're a wyrmling in his eyes, your scales like shining metal compared to his muddled gemstones. An arrogant wyrmling if the way you peacock for him the first time you enter the training room has anything to say about it— your wings spreading out and muscles rippling, back straightening out to make you taller, scales glinting in the artificial light; little details that anyone else can brush off as a simple stretch but to a dragon it screams of your interest in him.
His slitted eyes roam across your body, both equal parts disdain and curiosity. "Got somethin' ta say there boy?" His words are rough like sandpaper.
"No, no." You hum as you get into the ring, every little movement purposely done to showcase your hard earned musculature. "Just that you should skip out on this fight. Wouldn't want you to throw your back out old man."
"Old man huh?" His eyes blaze with the same fire at the end of his cigar, your words igniting something in his chest that had long been extinguished. "I'll show you old."
And suddenly he's in the ring, both of you trading blow for blow with the same savagery your progenitors had frightened mankind with for millennia, your claws leaving deep grooves in the concrete when you miss his side, his tail smashing a portion of the ground into dust when you avoid it, the ground between you cracking when you try to push the other away, loose scales and dust and debris littering the ground as you and Price wrestle on the ground.
Both of your teams watch from the sidelines, your team calming the other members of TF141 that this is just how dragons are, pointedly ignoring your victorious snarl when you pin Price down to the ground, your clawed hand harshly pushing his face into the concrete to the point you might break his nose as you bite the back of his neck, forcing him to submit. "I win,"
"Not fer long." He snarls back just as deep, feeling alive for the first time in who knows how long. "Best two out of three." And with that he jerks, remaining wing slamming into your side and knocking you off balance long enough for him to fling you into the wall opposite of him.
You don't know how many rounds you go before you're forced to stop by a very pissed off Laswell, who also pointedly ignores the obvious bulges in what remains of both of your pants, giving both of you a stern talking to about wrecking the damn training room.
You're ready to leave after being chastised like a child but Price is quicker, passing you with a "Good fight back there." rumbling in his throat, the soft scales of his wing brushing along your jaw. Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you meet his gaze, and Price has a good poker face but the smoldering look in his eyes and the low grumble in his chest makes it's obvious you've peaked his curiosity.
But that's just the start, the hard part is keeping it. While regular dragons may spend time with a potential mate conversing on scholarly subjects or having philosophical debates, you and him have a more practical way of assessing the other's intellect — Battle plans.
To your teams it sounds like a harsh argument, ideas thrown around and sharp insults tacked on top, their heads ping ponging between you and Price as you look over maps, trying to one up the other. Eventually your teammates leave you to settle this on your own.
"And I'm telling you, old man," You growl, both of you so close there's barely any space between you as you point at the map. "We can push a smaller team through the forest while we lead the frontal assault, our wip's not going to have anywhere to go then." You huff, holding your head up high to make it obvious you're proud of your idea.
Price gives you the stink eye, before he scans the map again, humming to himself. After a few seconds he lets out a scoff. "We don't have enough men for that." He says, but the sharp edge in his tone is dulled. "But—" His tail moves to brush against your own, your rough scales brushing against his smoother ones. "—It has some merit."
Price doesn't draw attention to the way your tails intertwine, wrapping together like two snakes, and neither do you. But the short purr that bubbles out of your chest says everything he needs to know, growing louder when he answers with his own, your shoulders brushing together. "Aight, back to work." He cuts your purrs short, but you can't hide the pleased look on your face as your tails remain coiled together.
Then comes the actual courting dance.
One late evening spent looking over documents in the privacy of his office, your tails once again coiled beneath the desk after successfully having proved your wit to him again, absentmindedly telling embarrassing stories of your respective teams. . . Price has a revelation. You might be it. "Hey lad."
You look up, your full attention on him. "Yeah?"
With a mumbled grunt too quiet for you to hear Price slides a hand beneath his shirt and pulls a large green scale from the meat of his shoulder blade, the wound healing before it can even bleed.
Instinctively you know what this means, for knowing how a prospective mate treats an extension of you will show how they'll treat you. But you still speak up, needing proof for your own mind that you're not insane and haven't been burning the wrong tree. "What?"
Price glares at you, "Don't play dumb," He says as he slides the large scale across the table to you. "It doesn't suit you." There's an underlayer of heat in his words, blue slitted eyes looking you over in a much more appreciative light.
You can't control the big grin that spreads across your face, "Oh, then what does suit me?" You ask as you follow his lead, yanking out one of your larger scales from your own back and sliding it to him. It makes the difference between you two obvious, his green scale muddled with age compared to your shiny one.
"Arrogant muppet." The gentle way he picks up your scale clashes with his harsh words, cradling it in his hand like it'll crack at the slightest of touches, his face reflected in the surface.
You grin, "Just confident." You feel his sharp eyes judge every minute twitch of your fingers as you pick up his scale. Price's poker face hides the way his heart melts at the loving way you brush a thumb across the surface, how it throbs when you don't immediately attempt to make it shine like some whelps once did, accepting him for how he is by putting it in your breast pocket.
God, he doesn't even know how much he'd fantasized about something like this when he was still young, vestiges of a purr escaping his throat at the tender way you treat his scale. "Right." He shakes his head and places your scale in his own breast pocket, handing you another stack of papers. "Get back to work."
You grin and do as he says, wings twitching as a sign of joy, your tail squeezing down on his and receiving a squeeze in kind.
Price feels like a horny teen when he lays awake in bed late at night with your scale held between his claws. He feels stupid for feeling so giddy at the thought of having a mate, a proper mate, yet his body thinks differently. Just holding it in his hand is enough to make him grow hot, your scent still clings to the scale and Price finds himself holding it close to his nose to familiarize himself with it and Hell his body loves it, cocks growing hard in record time and his thighs wet with slick. The poor thing doesn't even know what to relieve first, his free hand constantly going between stroking his cocks and fingering himself, mind craving the heat of another dragon that he'd been deprived of.
What Price doesn't know is that you're in the same boat, biting your arm to silence yourself as you imagine it's Price you're breeding instead of a pillow, splintering the headboard from how hard you're gripping it in an attempt to not damage the scale.
Then shit hits the fan when during a routine mission you two are ambushed, and while two dragons are no easy prey for mankind, humans have long since gone from using rocks and sticks. You catch sight of a sniper's scope glint seconds before the bullet targets Price, and in only a few seconds to think you throw yourself in the way, Price's scale in your breast pocket puts enough resistance to make you survive the bullet, but you feel it crack, and that. . . that sets you off.
Price doesn't even have the time to lift his gun before you're tearing through the battlefield like a man possessed, anger burning like a volcano in your chest for trying to hurt him, elemental breath and draconic strength unleashed to it's fullest potential.
And Price? Price watches the show with that same heat burning in his belly, forced to bite his lip to silence the pleased purrs as he rubs his thighs together while you tear flesh from bone, mate flashing in his mind. Look how he protects you His mind purrs, Good mate. Perfect mate.
"I'm sorry." You whimper when you've finally calmed down, the battlefield nothing but a ruined crater and the shards of his scale held tenderly in your cupped hands. "I failed, I-"
"Come here." Price cuts you off quickly and pulls you down into a harsh and desperate kiss, all teeth and tongue and need. He parts just a fraction of an inch, "You passed." He growls and only then do you notice the sharp arousal in his scent, your animalistic hindbrain jumping for joy as you kiss back because holy shit he considers you worthy.
And now that he's found his mate? You best believe his body is going to make up for all the centuries he'd spent alone.
It doesn't even take a week for him to enter heat, waking in a daze with his twin cocks hard and his thighs glistening with slick, your scent lingering in the sheets and your side of the bed still warm. The walls almost shake from how deeply he growls when he registers that you're not next to him, just enough sense in his head to throw on a towel around his waist before angerly stomping through the halls to find you, sniffing you out like a bloodhoud.
"Bloody muppet." Price growls as he yanks you by the horns back to his room, the scent of his arousal so potent you're struck dumb, letting yourself be pushed down. Price's claws slice through your clothes, his hole so slick and eager for you he doesn't even need to stretch, just jumps onto your lap and in one fluid motion takes one of your cocks to the root. "Fuckin' finally." Price hisses, instantly setting a harsh pace of bouncing on your cock that would have had a lesser race end up with a crushed pelvis.
You grip his hips for dear life, surging up to mark his neck and shoulders with bites as he does the same, his ass clapping against your thighs. "Mate." Price moans, hole clenching around you, his cocks leaking against your stomach. "My mate." He grips your hair and pulls you into a bruising kiss, "Going to last long for me yeah?" He asks, a bit of mockery on his flushed face as he feels you cum inside him, riding you through your orgasm as the sudden onslaught of sensations frazzles the intelligent parts of your brain. "Not going to disappoint me now are you?"
Good thing dragons have really short refractory periods.
"Not a chance." You snarl and flip him over suddenly, rumbling purrs escaping your chest from the surprised sound he makes. You attempt to pin him down and he squirms out of your hold, another bout of wrestling breaking out between you that has you two tumbling off the bed and onto the ground.
"That so whelp?" Price breathes out when you manage to pin him down, your strong hand keeping his face flush with the floor. "Do you really think you can keep up?" A pleased thrill runs down his spine from the sensation of your weight bearing down on him, his knees automatically locking up to hike his ass up, tail flipping up to display his slick hole for you.
"Do you?" You counter, one hand on his head, the other pressing both of your dicks together, your two tips pressing against his ass. "You're so wet and desperate, should have just pinned you down the moment I saw you instead of courting you." With one sharp thrust you push in, a pained and elated moan tearing out of his throat at the sensation of your twin cocks spreading him wider than any toy ever could, scratching that itch he'd had for who knows how long.
The stretch and burn and pleasure muddles his mind, reduces him to low animalistic snarls and growls as he does his best to push his hips into yours. "Hurry the fuck up." Price orders, whole body shaking from the way you set a harsh pace, bashing on his prostate, your balls slapping against his own, each hard thrust pushing and pulling his face across the floor. "I'll- fuck- fall asleep."
"You sure about that?" You push your weight further on him, forcing his wing to spread out, your own partially wrapping around him, "Seems to me like-" A bit of elemental breath leaves your throat when one particularly strong thrust has his hole clamping down on you, his back arching to push his hips as close to yours as one of his cocks spews cum on the floor, "-like you're not in a place to order me around."
"You- ah-fuck-ah- wanker." His insult would be a lot more hurtful if he didn't whine like a bitch in heat, both of you devolving into primitive snarls and growls with the only thought on both of your minds being the need to fill Price with as much of your cum as you physically can.
#Spittballs with Gnome#Idk how this happened#my hyperfixation got wayyy out of hand#n my monsterfucking got out of hand#cod mw2#gnome correspondence#x reader#trinkets from the hoard#male reader#top male reader#captain john price#john price x male reader#john price x reader#top dom reader#cod modern warfare#cod smut#cod x male reader
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BIRTHDAY WISHES ★ F1 GRID
PAIRING ✦ f1 grid x platonic fem!wolff!reader, max verstappen x fem!wolff!reader
SUMMARY ✦ it's your birthday, and some of the drivers of the f1 grid take to instagram to post you on the day. [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ none, i think!
REQUESTED ✦ here!
NOTES ✦ i didn't include all of the f1 drivers but i included as many as i felt were suitable! reader isn't susie's biological daughter, but they're still very close!! the fc i've used is blanca soler, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
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liked by maxverstappen1, susie_wolff, and 1,581,099 others
yourusername finally 22, might get a tattoo idk💜
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user1 AHHH HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N
user2 PEOPLE'S PRINCESSS HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
susie_wolff happy birthday y/n!! love you ❤️
yourusername love you mama 💜
user3 THEY'RE SO CUTE WTH
user4 i literally can't wait to see all of the f1 drivers post her.
user5 NO FR so excited
sabrinacarpenter MY GIRL FOREVER HAPPY BIRTHDAYY 🥳💗
yourusername LOVE YOU SAB THANK YOU SM💜💜
user6 this friendshippp omg
lewishamilton HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO YOU Y/N love you lots kiddo ❤️
yourusername love you lewis!! 😘
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mercedesamgf1 It's a very very special day today...happy birthday Y/n! From all of the team at Mercedes ❤️
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user7 happy birthday y/n!!
user8 she is glowingggg
yourusername 💜💜
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user9 i just know toto went to admin and said 'WISH MY DAUGHTER A HAPPY BIRTHDAY'
user10 their father daughter dynamic is everything to me
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georgerussell63 throwback to 2022 where me and y/n went on a day trip around paris and she changed outfits THREE TIMES in accordance with where we were. anyways happy birthday y/n have the best day!! 🥳
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yourusername CALLING ME OUT IN THE CAPTION HELLOOO?
yourusername I SWEAR IT WAS IMPORTANT I HAD TO CHANGE
georgerussell63 WHAT WERE THE REASONS.
yourusername 1) we had gone into that dusty vent thingy and i had to change my top 2) someone (naming no names) spilt WATER DOWN MY NEW TOP so i had to change 3) we were going out at night i was not about to wear that green shirt.
yourusername *y/n and i, not me and y/n
alex_albon oh dear the grammar police is back
yourusername year older but still not shedding the role 🤷♀️
yourusername thank you curious george very much appreciated 😘
landonorris how many nicknames do you have for him??
yourusername g-man, curious george, georgie porgie
georgrussell63 you can tell she truly values our friendship!
user11 i actually haven't stopped laughing why are they so siblings
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landonorris happy birthday to the girl who introduced herself to me by spilling her pepsi max over my fire suit. never change y/n 🔥
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yourusername AW LANDOOO THAT'S KINDA SWEET
georgerussell63 and mine wasn't??
yourusername lando's my fav 🤷♀️
charles_lerclerc @/landonorris thoughts on this??
landonorris y/n is a woman with taste what can i say?
yourusername wait when did you take the first pic...
landonorris at that bar in london
yourusername LOVE YOU NORRIS 😍
landonorris LOVE YOU WOLFF 😁
georgerussell63 the bias is actually crazy i'm in tears right now
yourusername awww georgie i love you too!! 💜
maxverstappen1 no one can separate y/n from her popcorn
yourusername he speaks the truth 🤷♀️
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alex_albon happiest of birthdays to the best third wheel money can buy ( please let me out of your basement 🙏 )
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alex_albon ALL JOKES ASIDE love you y/n have the best day!! 😁❤️
yourusername AW ALBONOOOO
yourusername you and lily are my parents😘
lilymhe i prefer you to alex ❤️
alex_albon HUH??
yourusername i will always take my mother's side 💜
yourusername best third wheel money can buy is CRAZYYY YOU KNOW FULL WELL.
alex_albon well you did third wheel at one point, not now you're with him 🤷♀️
user12 WITH HIM? MY WIFE IS TAKEN?
user13 NOT ALEX BEING CRYPTIC W IT.
logansargeant the american flag in the last pic RAH 🦅
yourusername relax logan babe it's a brandy melville sweater 💜
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carmenmmundt MY Y/NNNN!! meeting you in the mercedes paddock back in 2022 was truly the best thing that could've ever happened because now you're stuck with me!! my little sister forever, hope you have the best birthday ever ❤️❤️
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yourusername CARMMM IM CRYING WTH
yourusername MY SISTERRR I LOVE YOUUU
carmenmmundt I LOVE YOU MORE ❤️
user14 the way they get on so well acc warms my hearttt
yourusername you're the only reason i can tolerate george 😊
georgerussell63 i beg your pardon??
yourusername oh dear the british dialect came out
charles_leclerc understandable 🤷♂️
georgerussell63 NOT YOU TOO??
user15 y/n honorary wag confirmed
alex_albon or real wag 🤷♂️
this comment has been deleted
user16 SO NO ONE SAW ALEX'S COMMENT?? WAG ALERT HELLO??
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alexandrasaintmleux the only girl i trust to go to galleries with me ❤️ happy birthday y/n love you sm!
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yourusername ALEXXXX I LOVE YOU SM
yourusername MY ANGELLL
alexandrasaintmleux ❤️❤️
yourusername forget charles run away w me 🙏
alexandrasaintmleux @/charles_leclerc sorry baby i'm leaving you for y/n!!
charles_leclerc how have i been replaced...
yourusername with ease 😘
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charles_leclerc she might prefer my girlfriend to me, but she will forever be my baby sister 😘 happy birthday y/n!!
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yourusername MI HERMANOOOO!!
charles_leclerc that's not french??
yourusername i know carlos was teaching me spanish so have that instead
carlossainz55 viva la españaaa! 🇪🇸
yourusername i definitely do prefer alex but this post is very much appreciated!!
charles_leclerc why must you replace me.
user16 WHO DOESNT PREFER ALEX?? SHES STUNNING
yourusername LOVE YOU ECLAIR
user17 HELPP SHES A REAL ONE
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lance_stroll "if you post any ugly pictures of me lance i'll kill you" - y/n today when i wished her a happy birthday. have a good day loser 👌
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yourusername WHY ARE YOU CALLING ME OUT AS WELLL IT'S MEANT TO BE MY SPECIAL DAY
georgerussell63 y/n when something doesn't go her way:
yourusername GO AWAY PISS FACE ☹️
yourusername my favorite canadian 😊
yourusername also the only canadian i know but wtv
lance_stroll i appreciate the sentiment y/n??
yourusername THANKS LANCELOT LOVE YOU BBG
lance_stroll maybe it's time to retire the nickname now??
yourusername noooo i don't want to! and it's my birthday sooo :)
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oscarpiastri happy birthday y/n!! have the best day ❤️ ( last slide is from when you took my phone and sent lando pictures of yourself saying you were under his bed. good times as always )
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yourusername OSCAHHH THE FIRST NICE-ISH CAPTION!!
charles_leclerc mine was nice as well???
yourusername yes but oscar's just nicer in general so it sort of evens itself out
user18 HELPP
yourusername i KNOW lando appreciated the pics of my flared nostrils😘😘
landonorris yes thanks y/n ❤️
alex_albon bet your boyfriend didn't appreciate that one 🤷♂️
yourusername DO YOU EVER SHUT UP ALBON. and for ur information i forwarded them to him as well so.
user19 okay but WHOOO IS THIS BOYFRIEND WHEN'S THE REVEAL
user20 NO REAL IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE
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carlossainz55 y/n in her natural habitat: on a farm 👩🌾 happy birthday mi hermana!! ❤️
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yourusername VIVA LA ESPAÑAAAAA
carlossainz55 SIII SIEMPRE
yourusername THANK YOU CARLOSSS 💜💜
carlossainz55 ❤️
georgerussell63 she's one with nature ❤️
landonorris HAHA
yourusername I KNOWWW YOU ARE BOTH NOT TALKING WHEN I HAVE KILLED SPIDERS FOR BOTH OF YOU.
user21 THE RECEIPTS
maxverstappen1 picture credits for half of these??
carlossainz55 i took the first one though?
maxverstappen1 but i took the others??
yourusername guys stop fighting this isn't you ☹️☹️☹️
maxverstappen1 yeah yeah whatever
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maxverstappen1 forever thankful for the day you accidentally ran into the red bull paddock and i fell head over heels in love 🙏 happy birthday to the girl who makes it all worth it, love you always ❤️
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user22 THE HARD LAUNCH????
user23 WAS NOT EXPECTING THISSSS
user24 SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP
user25 MERCEDES GIRL X RED BULL GUY
yourusername MAXIE AW
user26 MAXIE MY HEARTTT
yourusername LOVE YOU FOREVER 💜💜
alex_albon ew get a room
yourusername as third wheel of you and lily for basically the past two years, LET ME HAVE THIS ONE.
landonorris so like is it just me who's single now??...
yourusername keep enjoying the bachelor lifestyle norris 💜
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yourusername thank you all so much for the birthday wishes!! decided to get me a tattoo, and woke up to my boyfriend hard launching us on social media! love you max, but please stop winning races so my dad doesn't get angry 💜
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maxverstappen1 unfortunately, i have to keep winning the races to win your respect. thanks for the request, though! 🙏
yourusername papa wolff will NOT be happy.
maxverstappen1 ❤️❤️
user27 THE LITTLE WOMEN TATTOO??
user28 I HAD NO IDEA SHE WATCHED LITTLE WOMEN
user29 she mentioned on live once that it's her favorite movie!!
mercedesamgf1 If he hurts you Y/n, we'll be at his door 🦅
yourusername you'll be the first ones i contact x
user30 Y/N DEFENCE LEAGUE HAS ARRIVED
georgerussell63 *get a tattoo, not get me a tattoo
landonorris shhh let her have this one it's her birthday weekend
yourusername damn right it is mr russell remember ur place here. which of the two of us is the boss' daughter??
georgerussell63 🤐🤐
yourusername exactly what i thought!
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#f1 x reader#f1#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 smau#f1 x you#smau#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 social media au#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x female reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x y/n#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#f1 x female reader#mclqren
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the fake dating u did was so good, like, ate and left no crumbs?? and i feel like its so spot on?? you did amazing thank you so much for ur writing
could u do a follow up on it?? i need to see the angst and confusion of the reader and the fluff at the end 🥹🥹
have a good day!!
OMG thank you for the shower of compliments 🫶😭
As i said in another ask, i wrote those HCs as a one shot thingy, and i’m still shocked so many wanted a part 2 so here it is!..FINALLY!
with a dash of misunderstandings, a sprinkling of pent-up desires and a spoonful of angst with a happy ending.
APOLOGIES FOR THE LONG WAIT. HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT! ♡
Fake Dating the Love and Deepspace men but you catch feelings pt. 2
new readers make sure to read [PART 1] before you read this..
ZAYNE
❄️ You know you crossed a line when you requested Zayne to kiss you.
❄️ That one kiss led to the start of many more. Now Zayne kisses you whenever he drops you off at work and whenever he comes by to pick you up. And before you can even realize, they've become a part of your normal routine.
❄️ Speaking of kisses, they aren't merely innocent pecks anymore. Now they feel passionate and longer, involve a little tease of the tongue here and there, and always leave you weak in the knees.
❄️ But this controlled manner of feeding off of his generosity is proving to be quite difficult for you. If anything, the kisses have made you greedier. Every time his lips touch you, you hope that it doesn't simply end there. That he doesn't stop. You desire more than you should out of this fake relationship. You desire more than you deserve.
❄️ But before this desire of yours can take over and make you do something you can never take back, you decide to end things with Zayne.
❄️ It's a normal evening in his office. He's sorting through his patients’ files when you call out to him.
❄️ He looks up and patiently awaits whatever it is you have to tell him.
❄️ You feel your lips quiver.
❄️ Zayne may have agreed to be your fake boyfriend because you had practically begged him to but he isn't obligated to give you anything that isn't needed. Him picking and dropping you to and from work, sharing meals together and kissing you in front of others is already so generous of him.
❄️ That is all it should've been. Only you ended up developing real feelings.
❄️ But if you let this farce run any longer, you'll end up mistaking his kindness for genuine affection. You'll end up fooling yourself into thinking its real. Not just for you but him as well. That your feelings are reciprocated.
❄️ Your mouth opens and shuts, as you try to muster the courage before softly murmuring. “I think we should stop.”
❄️ For a moment, he stares at you, unmoving as ice. Then his mouth motions but you don't hear word. You run away.
❄️ Days pass with you ignoring Zayne's calls and texts. You skip work as well in order to avoid him.
❄️ Your doorbell rings one night and you almost jump. Dread instantly begins pooling in your belly. What if it's Zayne?
❄️ With anxious limbs, you answer the door only to find your friend Tara.
❄️ Tara tells you that she was only trying to set you up on dates because she hasn't seen you genuinely whole ever since you lost your family. That she wanted you to have someone who could complete you. But now that she's seen you with Zayne, her worries have faded into thin air. She is happy for you two. She is happy to see you happy after so long.
❄️ Though her words may have been supportive and full of warmth, they only make you feel worse. You end up crying and spilling the truth– the entire truth about the fake dating arrangement.
❄️ To your surprise, Tara is as kind as Zayne and instantly empathizes with you. She understands. And she apologizes for being so forceful in her attempts to look out for you by finding you dates.
❄️ Tara comforts you for a while but before departing, she suggests you come clean to Zayne and confess. She believes that it will all turn out fine in the end.
❄️ Well, its easier for her to say that. You're the one who actually grew up with Zayne. You know he's always been an honest man and how much it will hurt him when he learns that you've been taking advantage of your arrangement to enjoy his affectionate gestures. That after a while, you began deliberately prolonging the kisses in hopes of getting something more..
❄️ You wake up the next morning to incessant knocking at your door, and wonder if it's Tara again, come all this to check up on you.
❄️ Sleepily you answer the door. And the drowsiness dissipates from your eyes the moment you find the familiar tall figure of your childhood friend clad in his tight black shirt and dark trousers.
❄️ Dread seeps into your being once more and you lower your head in shame. If Zayne is here then it can only mean one thing. You knew this was bound to happen. But you are a coward nonetheless, and you can't bear to look at him as he breaks your heart.
❄️ Zayne let's out a breath and speaks. “That evening in my office..I’m sorry if its because of something I did..”
❄️ His apology makes you feel sick. You will not let him take the blame for your own misdeeds.
❄️ “No Zayne, I’m the one who asked for your help. And I didn't even consider the fact that I might catch feelings for you.” You pause to collect your thoughts. “But I know how wrong and stupid I was for it. And that is why I ended things between us. Before I could do something worse and spoil our—”
❄️ You stop abruptly as Zayne pushes the door further open and steps up on the threshold, hovering intimidatingly over you. He tilts his head low and speaks. “The arrangement wasn't just yours. Any decisions related to it should be reached only after proper discussion between the parties involved.”
❄️ His statement takes you by surprise and you finally move your lashes to hesitantly look up at his face. “I didn't think it mattered to you. I thought you were merely being kind and helpful..like always.”
❄️ “On the contrary, I was enjoying our little arrangement. After all,” Zayne inches even closer, his voice an octave lower. “it allowed me to spend more time in the company of the person I yearn for.”
❄️ It isn't his statement but the intensity of his gaze that arouses a tiny flicker of hope within you. “Zayne..you..I thought..I was the only one taking advantage of the situation..”
❄️ He chuckles lightly. “Apparently we both were. It seems our arrangement stopped being fake the moment we kissed.”
❄️ That tiny flicker of hope bursts into a lively flame of desire. “Then, you also wanted it to be real?”
❄️ He gives no verbal response but his lips quirk up into the barest hint of a smile as he nods.
❄️ For a moment, you stare at each other, processing all the words exchanged; the next, Zayne takes off his glasses and and tucks them in his pocket. And your lips find his, like many times this past week. Only now, neither of you stop just there for this isn’t pretense anymore. It's mutual, and it's real.
❄️ His hands slip beneath your shirt, cold fingers leaving a trail of warmth along every inch they touch.
❄️ And he kisses you harder, his tongue prying your lips apart as he pushes you inside the house and shuts the door behind him.
XAVIER
⭐ Things have been going pretty well ever since that “incident” in front of your apartment door. The creepy resident has stopped showing up.
⭐ You can freely enjoy the gym and pool in your apartment complex and everything else without the constant intrusion of that weirdo.
⭐ And although Xavier still goes out for morning laps and evening walks with you, accompanies you for the exercise sessions and even checks up on you at your apartment, he has cut-down on everything else. He is holding your hand a lot less and doesn't slip his arms around your waist as much.
⭐ It’s only fair though. Since the strange man isn't hitting on you anymore, there isn't much need for Xavier to act either.
⭐ You can live with it. Bear with him not engaging in any sort of skinship anymore. But your mind simply cannot forget the way his lips had felt against your own.
⭐ In the loneliness of the moonlit nights, you often find your fingers tracing the same spot his lips had sucked on your neck. You close your eyes and revisit the memory of his lips pressed gently upon yours. The memory of him kissing you a second time but with much more impatience and fervor. And you wish he'd do it all again.
⭐ It's not even surprising that you like Xavier. The guy has been nothing but helpful, protective and co-operative. And he indulges all your requests– from hanging out at the claw machine or playing kitty cards to something as unnecessary as a late night walk– when he could be spending that time reading a book or dozing-off.
⭐ You have found Xavier attractive ever since your first encounter. It's just that only now his searing kisses have left a mark upon your heart. Made you realise that you harbor an emotion far deeper than mere attraction for this man. And it's quite vexing how quickly he seems to have moved on from those shared kisses.
⭐ How can he smile at you with the same lips that nearly stole your breath away? How can he simply go on with his life while you lie awake in bed at nights, reminiscing those moments over and over?
⭐ Xavier has completely ruined you.
⭐ You can neither focus on work nor are you interested in gossiping with Tara and Nero. And to make matters worse, you get assigned to a mission with the last person you wanna face right now— the eccentric, silver-haired neighbor who claims to have killed more than 70,000 wanderers. The same man who had you pinned against a door just a week ago.
⭐ The mission starts smoothly. You and Xavier arrive at the location of a forest with high protofield fluctuations. You are synced as ever, efficiently taking down wave after wave of wanderers.
⭐ But there's a tension radiating between the two of you. It distracts you momentarily, resulting in you almost getting struck by a wanderer swerving it's blade towards you.
⭐ Fortunately, Xavier steps in at the last instant, slips an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. With his other arm, he effortlessly swings his blade and deflects the wanderer's blows.
⭐ He is saying something now, his expression full of concern. But you can barely hear a thing due to the loud drumming of your heart. You are too lost in the sensation of his strong arm firmly holding you in place.
⭐ When you give no response, he tilts his head adorably in confusion and stares at you. And for the briefest of moments, his eyelids lower, his gaze seemingly lingering upon your lips before he licks his own and lets go of your waist, flexing his gloved fingers as he does so.
⭐ He clears his throat, tightens his grip around his sword and resumes his battle stance.
⭐ By the time you've cleared out the wanderers, you want nothing more than to go home. However, Xavier is already approaching you.
⭐ “You seem a little preoccupied. Is that creep bothering you again? Do you need me to beat him up?” He asks.
⭐ “What!?— No! I told you that you can't beat him up!” You wave your hands frantically.
⭐ “Then,” He pauses, his eyes narrowing. “it’s that kiss, isn't it?”
⭐ Your face instantly heats up at his direct mention of the kiss. You aren't good with confrontations, especially not when they involve the very man responsible for the sickness of your heart. So you bite your bottom lip and and try leaving again, hoping this is enough of a response.
⭐ But if there's one thing you've come to learn about Xavier, its that he can be very assertive when he wants to be. And right now he's unrelenting. He grabs you by the wrist, gently making you face him again. “I went a little too far, didn't I? I should've asked you before doing something like that. Let me make up for it.”
⭐ The sincerity in his eyes melts your heart. You're the one who had come to him with such an unusual request. You're the one who said he wasn't convincing enough, so he tried to make it feel more genuine. And yet here he is, not even questioning you for a second but already striving to make up for it.
⭐ You can't let him punish himself for it, especially since he didn't hurt you at all. Only left you wanting for more. “Xavier, you didn't go too far. And I don't want you to make up for it.”
⭐ His thumb runs over the back of your hand. “What do you want then?”
⭐ There's a conviction in his eyes– the same one he has before promising he'll win all the plushies for you at the claw machine, the same one he has when slaying wanderers. And you can't help but be honest with him. “I..I want you to kiss me like that..again..”
⭐ There! You've said it now. To hell with shame! And to hell with frustration! You're too tired to hide your feelings any longer.
⭐ Yet at the same time, the anticipation of his response is stressful. You try to pry your hand free of his hold but it only grows tighter now.
⭐ “You– You didn't mind it?” Xavier's eyes darken. So does his demeanor. He takes a step forward, and you take two back. “You’ve been wanting me..to do it again?”
⭐ You nod slightly, and he exhales a breath.
⭐ Xavier draws you closer, his eyes wordlessly asking permission this time. You nod again.
⭐ The next moment, his lips press softly against yours. And for the first time this week, you feel a little sated. It's not all you have ever wished for. Barely anything at all. But it gives you enough strength to live with your feelings for him.
⭐ The kiss deepens as he pushes you against the nearest tree branch, his lips parting your own. You gasp and turn your face away.
⭐ “Xavier, you don't need to do more.” You whisper breathily. “This is enough.”
⭐ He leans his face down, lips moving along your neck. “It’s hardly enough.”
⭐ Even with the pleasure clouding your thoughts, you remind yourself that you can't keep taking his willingness for granted. You can't let him go on. “Xavier, you don't need to pretend for my sake.”
⭐ “I’m not pretending. I want this too.” His response is immediate. “I’ve been wanting this for a very long time.”
⭐ His words hold weight, unlike any declaration made in the heat of the moment. So you give in. Let his hand guide your thigh around his waist as he kisses you again, under the evening quite of the forest.
RAFAYEL
🌊 “Keep up the act for some more time?” Rafayel asks, surprised.
🌊 It's the day after you'd attended that fancy gala with him. You're both sitting on the couch in his studio and you're the one who give this lame suggestion.
🌊 He rests his chin on the back of his palm and smiles mischievously, a twinkle in his eyes. “Don’t tell me, Miss Bodyguard..have you caught feelings for me?”
🌊 If you were drinking something, you would've probably sputtered it all over by now. But thankfully, there are no refreshments in your hands, and you will not embarass yourself by admitting how accurate he is in his guess (even if made only in jest).
🌊 You school your face into a stern expression as you look back at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. If we break up right now, after you've been parading me around in everyone's faces, then people will talk. Critics will latch onto this opportunity to write think pieces in hopes of sullying your name. I'm only being cautious as your bodyguard.”
🌊 Rafayel puts a hand over his heart and feigns a hurt expression. “And here I thought you've finally fallen for my irresistible charm.”
🌊 You scoff and roll your eyes. “Don’t think so highly of yourself.”
🌊 “I don't need to think so because its a fact. I am amazing.” He sits up straight. “Anyways I don't care much for critics. I don't care if people misunderstand or hate my art. But I know Thomas will be pulling his hair out if I get a bad name right now.”
🌊 “So,” He pauses for effect as you edge closer to him in anticipation. “I guess we'll keep running this charade for some more time.”
🌊 Before you can even realize, your lips are stretching up into a small smile. You know this is a foolish arrangement. One that is bound to end in nothing but pure agony for you. Yet you insist on dragging this along because you are desperate for a little more time with him. You cannot imagine going back to simply being Rafayel the painter's “bodyguard”.
🌊 You may have developed feelings for him a long time ago but its that kiss that made you realize how far gone you are for this man.
🌊 And you foolishly hope and believe that not all of it had been a mere act for him either. That there's a possibility of him liking you just a teensy bit. And this crazy belief has deluded you into entertaining fantasies you should not.
🌊 Now that you've had a taste of what it's like to have him as your lover, it's impossible for you to settle for anything less. You want him, and you wish for him to want you too.
🌊 The snap of a finger in front of your face draws you out of your juvenile daydreams. Rafayel is assessing your face. “Where are you? Come back to the real world, Miss Bodyguard. We're discussing some important things here.”
🌊 Your cheeks heat up and you apologize for getting distracted. “Yes, I'm listening. What is it?”
🌊 Rafayel shakes his head but begins explaining. “I’m saying that since we can't break up abruptly, then let's do it,” He pauses again, spreading his arms out and staring up at the high ceiling dramatically. “publicly.”
🌊 Your hear a crumbling sound and feel an ache in your heart. “What does that mean?”
🌊 He grins excitedly. “If we break up publicly, in the presence of a huge crowd with big names and paparazzis around, then surely it will leave little to no room for speculation and criticism.”
🌊 You feel fissures steadily forming on your heart. This isn't what you had expected when you had suggested him to continue on with this charade. A sinking feeling looms over you yet despite that you try your best to force a smile upon your face. “That..seems like an interesting idea.”
🌊 From that point onwards, any time to you meet Rafayel, the passionate kiss you had shared at the gala plays in the back of your mind. And you wonder if you'll ever get to kiss him again, even if only for the sake of this temporary farce.
🌊 Now every time Rafayel steps even an inch closer to you or lowers his head, you find yourself expecting– and hoping for– a kiss. A kiss that sadly never comes.
🌊 And the worst part is that you can't get mad at him. He merely asked you to play pretend. He never asked you to catch feelings. If anything, you should've been just as professional as he is. At least it would've saved you from experiencing the heaviness you feel within your chest.
🌊 But lets ignore all that because today you are at Rafayel’s place to discuss how the two of you will publicly carry out a fake break-up of your fake relationship during an upcoming exhibition.
🌊 Rafayel explains how you are supposed to yell at him during the exhibition, and make sure everyone around hears how difficult it is for you to date someone well-known. That it is becoming impossible for the two of you to make time for each other.
🌊 You scoff. “And then what? You'll say how I've always been nothing but a gold digger, chasing after you for your money and fame?”
🌊 Rafayel claps his hands. “Actually not bad. And then you can say how I am just as rotten as the rest of the celebrities.”
🌊 You can't help but laugh despite the ache in your heart. “This is so trope-y and predictable. No one will buy it.”
🌊 “Oh trust me they will. Everyone loves a little drama.” Rafayel tries convincing you. “You can add a few more insults and break my heart. And I can dedicate my next art piece to you, my cute but cruel ex.”
🌊 You laugh some more and he laughs with you.
🌊 Rafayel may act a little arrogant and childish at times but he is a good person by nature. Whether intentional or not, he always makes you laugh. The time spent in his company may not always be relaxing but it is certainly always entertaining.
🌊 And you realize how these moments will be gone forever after this so-called “break-up”, and how truly unprepared you are to endure it.
🌊 The eve of the exhibition finally arrives.
🌊 Rafayel keeps repeating the things you are supposed to say and do if you are to end this arrangement tonight. But you can only focus on the unease bubbling within your belly.
🌊 He quirks his chin, signaling for you to begin but you find yourself rooted in spot, unable to utter a single word. The unease in your belly grows and you take a deep breath before finally speaking.
🌊 “I’m..I’m getting tired of this.” You mumble softly. You aren't sure if anyone heard that but you continue. “You’re the one who asked me out yet now I feel as if you don't even care.”
🌊 Your voice is shaky now. You're taking in more breaths with every word you speak. Rafayel's calm expression falters as he watches the way you ball your palms into tight fists. “I..I don't think I can go on any longer!”
🌊 Your words resonate with your actual feelings. You really cannot go on like this much longer. You will miss the silly moments spent with him. You will be unable to genuinely smile with him after this. It will become impossible for you to even be his bodyguard. And you don't want that. You don't want any of it!
🌊 The unease in your belly spreads all over your skin like a wildfire. You feel tears streaming down your cheeks as you shake your head at him. “I can't do this.” You choke out before running off, the crowd of people around gasping in shock.
🌊 Rafayel follows right on your heels, grabbing you by the waist before you can trip on the stairs and fall.
🌊 “Let me go!” You yell but he's pulling you into a secluded room.
🌊 “Hey..calm down.” He tucks the loose strands of your hair behind your ears and gently wipes your tears with his thumb.
🌊 But you can't do this. You can't tolerate him being so tender with you right before he mercilessly breaks your heart. You step away from him and his eyes widen, a hint of anguish now swimming in them.
🌊 “What's wrong, Y/N?” He asks, calling you by your actual name instead of the nickname he loves so much.
🌊 And you actually respond, words flooding out of your mouth like a crumbling damn. “Rafayel, I can't do this. I am drowning in my feelings for you. And I know it's not your responsibility to feel the same way just cause I do but I..” You sob, unable to say anymore.
🌊 He stares at you for a moment, an unknown emotion alight in his eyes. Then he breaks into a shrill laugh, the sound of it echoing loudly in the silent room. And he wraps his arms around you in an embrace, his shoulders shaking as he laughs some more.
🌊 “Look at you, falling for me just when I try to distance myself from you.” He strokes soothing circles on your back. “When I try to end all this to run away from my own feelings for you..”
🌊 Your own eyes widen now and you pull away to look at him, waiting for him to affirm what he just said. He chuckles, wiping your tear-stained face before leaning in to rest his forehead against yours.
🌊 “Yeah yeah I'm madly in love with. And it seems you did, after all, fall for my irresistible charms.” He drawls out as if talking about something insignificant.
🌊 Then he leans closer, his breath tickling your lips. “If you wanted us to date for real, you should've simply asked. Instead you made me chase after you like some besotted prince in a fairy tale.”
🌊 You find yourself laughing at that and he lets out a breath.
🌊 “There’s the laugh.” He murmurs, sealing his lips with yours, his fingers carding through your hair as he tilts your head and deepens the kiss.
Hope it was upto your expectations or atleast as enjoyable as part 1 of this ♡ It's unedited so i apologise for any errors (i'm a little sleepy and will edit later). And thank you for all the love and support on all my LADS headcanons so far 🥹🫶
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birds of a feather | daniel ricciardo
face claim: N/A ♡
request: here !
pairing: daniel ricciardo x british!reader
cw: mentions of chr*stian horner, singapore gp 2024
a/n: sorry for the long hiatus but i just had to come back and make something for danny. i've loved that man since i got into f1 and the idea that i won't see him on track anymore hurts so deeply. thank you for the memories honey badger, you will always have a place here on tinycoffeeroom <3
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Hi baby.
Hi love.
You sound exhausted, did you not sleep well last night?
Not really, I've been trying to go over strategies with the team, but nothing seems to be working. There's no way I'm getting in the points this week.
I'm sorry Danny, I know how much you've been working on this...
Have you asked them about that power unit thingy you were talking about?
Yeah... they don't have the time to test it and add it in before this race or even COTA.
What about the new rear wing?
Well...
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Anyway, enough about this shit show. How are you, darling? I miss you.
I miss you too, pretty boy. It sucks that this conference overlaps the race, I wish I was there so bad. Just wanna hug you.
Me too, y/n. Me too. I'm coming back as soon as the race is over. At least we have 4 weeks before the next one. Did you manage to book time off?
I did! 2 whole weeks to follow you across the globe watching you strut your stuff! Hopefully we can get Horsey back for the memories.
Blake's been emailing the owner, so hopefully Horsey will make a reappearance. (LAUGHS)
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Oh wait, Helmut's calling me, I'll call you back babe.
Ok! Lemme know what he says!
Always do. Love you.
Love you too pretty boy.
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It had been a last minute decision, choosing to fly out to Singapore. You knew Daniel would never put his own needs above yours, and while the conference was important for your career, he was important to you too.
It had been easy getting everything sorted. By the time you were texting Blake about flying over, he had already sent you a message, a simple "you know?".
A quick email to your boss, a semi lie spun about a family emergency, and a whirlwind of packing bags later, you found yourself sitting in Heathrow.
Your fingers twitched nervously as you checked the time differences between England and Singapore, double checking Daniel wouldn't find it strange if you didn't respond to his texts for the next 13 hours.
Your flight left at 8PM Singapore time, that gave you at least 10 hours before he would wake up for the race.
Blake had sneakily upgraded your tickets to first class so you could sleep comfortably on the flight and be ready to go straight into race day, or night, when you landed.
Tapping your phone awake, you smile at the lock screen staring back at you.
You and Daniel had gone away with a few other couples from the grid, a well needed break from the stress of Formula 1. In the midst of a late night beach walk with Charles and Alex, Daniel had grabbed your thighs, hoisting you over his shoulder.
Your shrieks of laughter had drawn some weird looks from those around you, but neither of you cared. You'd clawed your way back, legs settling tightly around Daniel's waist as his arms wrapped tightly around yours.
You didn't even notice the flash of Alex's phone, too enthralled in the wide smile encapsulating the man holding you, all teeth and gums and happiness dripping from him like sweet honey. A quick peck to the bridge of his nose and then the corner of his mouth was enough for him to lower you gently to the ground, arms still encompassing you tightly.
The sound of Charles fake gagging beside you finally pulled the two of you out of the lovesick stupor you'd been caught in, eyes roaming the shadows cast across your lover's face from the fading sunset.
When Alex had texted you the photo once you were back in the hotel room, limbs wrapped around one another in the cool, air conditioned room, you'd chuckled lightly, drawing Daniel's attention.
"What's so funny?" The hand gripping your thigh draped lazily across his lap squeezed once, thumb rubbing back and forth soothingly.
Turning the phone to face him, you watched his eyes light up, that same dazzling smile spreading as he took in the photo.
"Send that to me."
You hummed in response, airdropping the photo to him as he pulled your thigh higher up his lap. As he leaned forward, lips searching for yours under the dim lamp light, you quickly set the photo as your lock screen, no doubt in your mind that Daniel would soon do the same.
A tannoy drags you back to the present.
"All passengers for flight SIA324, please make your way to the gate. Boarding will begin in 15 minutes."
Typing out a quick goodnight message to Daniel, you pocket your phone, sighing as you make your way towards what could be the last time you see Daniel in a Formula 1 car.
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ynstagram uploaded three stories to their close friends
replies:
lilymhe 💔 if i knew you were coming to singapore, i would have come too! ↳ ynstagram was a last minute decision sorry babe xx ↳ lilymhe ... don't tell me ↳ ynstagram 🙃
maxverstappen1 how did you get time off?? i thought you were super busy with work ↳ ynstagram claimed a family emergency, even if danny doesn't want me here, i needed to come ↳ maxverstappen1 he needs you y/n, more than i think even he knows
landonorris does dan know you're coming? ↳ ynstagram nope, blocked him from my close friends for a bit ↳ landonorris sneaky, i like it ↳ landonorris see you soon y/n, glad you'll be here :)
iamrebeccad you're coming to the gp??? come to ferrari hospitality if you can!!!! alex misses you 🥺 ↳ ynstagram don't think i'll be leaving vcarb this weekend, we can meet up for brunch soon though 🩷 ↳ iamrebeccad oh... yeah sure, just let me know 💜
blakefriend hope you got to the hotel alright, me and dan are out for his training session, did you get the keycard ok? ↳ ynstagram i did, and the paddock passes. thanks for this blake, i know with everything going on, last minute admin is the last thing you need ↳ blakefriend if it means dan can have some sense of calm in this mess, i'd do it 10 times over ↳ blakefriend we'll be back at 1pm, see you in a few hours ↳ ynstagram 🫡 see you then
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Getting from the airport to the hotel had been easy enough. Piling the bags you had brought from Monaco to London and now to Singapore onto the only trolley remaining, you make your way down to the Arrivals.
Stepping through the automatic doors, your eyes dart between the people around you. Families reuniting with bright laughter and happy tears, lovers sharing intimate kisses under the harsh airport lights. Businessmen already glued to the phone in their hands as they weave through bodies with ease, their bodies twisting and turning like a well rehearsed waltz.
A man in a black suit jacket and oversized chauffeur hat catches your eye, his eyes following your figure as you try to move around the other passengers. You glance down at the large piece of paper held just above his waist.
“Y/N L/N” is scrawled in large black letters across the paper, chicken scratch that looks very much like Blake’s.
Making your way over, the man tips the edge of his chauffeur hat slightly, reaching a hand out to shake yours.
You want to apologise for the clamminess of your palms as you accept his welcome, but before you can speak, he’s reaching across to take the trolley from you, his head tilting briefly in the opposite direction.
You follow behind him, feet double stepping to keep up as he expertly navigates the sprawling grounds of Singapore Airport.
By the time you reach the car out front, a sheen of sweat covers your upper lip and you cringe, feeling your t-shirt slowly cling to your back.
The man opens the boot, then the back door and ushers you in. The cold air conditioning feels like a welcome home kiss, brushing away the humidity that clings to your skin from the small journey between the airport and the car. By the time the man sits in the driver's seat, your eyes are slipping closed, head lolling against the headrest behind you.
You didn’t mean to sleep for the entire car journey, but you’d barely been able to rest for more than 20 minutes on the flight, opting instead to cycle through nonsense films to play in the background as the thoughts in your mind waged a war on your emotions.
It had been a tense 13 hours, trying to work out what had happened on that phone call between Daniel and Helmut. You knew there were talks of him not extending his contract, but leaving mid season?
Your Danny? The self proclaimed and well known Honey Badger, king of late braking and divebombing his grid mates. You’d been with him since the Red Bull days, and even if he wasn’t winning podiums, or even points sometimes, you thought there would be more of an uproar about this from him.
This wasn’t the same man you’d watch nearly fight a waiter because he refused to bring you a new meal after they’d brought out a completely different dish, the same man who left everything on the tarmac and often dragged you to his trailer post race interviews for a well deserved nap.
His texts had been despondent, almost like he believed this was the goodbye he deserved.
That’s the part you couldn’t move past. The idea that he was going to finish his last race without the flair of Daniel Ricciardo, no doughnuts, no grid walk, no party to celebrate the last 13 years.
After the McLaren debacle, you understood why he chose to fly under the radar. With COVID and the situation with Oscar, he’d been more than willing to slip away peacefully but this was different.
This was Red Bull. Or the subsidiary at least. The team he’d spent the longest time in Formula 1 with. The team who took him in as a junior, that he’d won 7 Grand Prix’s with, scored well over 1000 points racing for.
You would have thought that they would have wanted to give him a goodbye worthy of what he had brought to the team.
By the time the chauffeur shakes you gently awake, your mind is no clearer but one thing is for sure. Daniel will not face this storm alone.
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The time of Daniel getting back from his workout was looming slowly. Since entering the hotel room, you’d hopped in the shower, scrubbing the aeroplane smell from you. The suitcases were lined up against the wall and you were currently lazing on the bed, scrolling mindlessly through Tiktok. Every so often, you’d flick to the notification screen, just in case Blake’s incoming text had somehow slipped past without you catching it.
Your eyes flutter slowly closed, maybe a 10 minute nap wouldn’t hurt. Before you can lock your phone and settle into the plush pillows, a notification pings through. Eyes darting open, you catch the banner notification before it slides up.
They were in the lobby.
“Fuckin’ hell Blake.” Scrambling up from the bed, you round the corner and make sure there is no sign of you in the living room section. Your shoes are tucked away in the bottom of the closet, jacket strewn across the chair in the corner of the bedroom.
The telltale ring of a keycard being swiped rings through the air and you slide to hide behind the wall, heart thumping against your chest. Doubt begins to swirl through your mind. What are you even doing here? What if he didn’t invite any of his family or friends because he didn’t want them to see him go out like this? Would he want you to?
Loud voices echo through the hallway, Aussie slang thrown about but you focus on the one thick with a Perth twang.
Your Danny.
“Mate, I’m just gonna go point Percy at the porcelain.” Blake’s voice grows louder as he walks through to the bedroom. He locks eyes with you, giving you a quick one armed hug as you exchange quiet greetings.
Once enough time has passed, he gestures with a finger to his lips to be quiet, head popping around the corner to Daniel.
“Did you bring Y/N’s jacket with you by mistake?”
A confused “No” comes from the living room before Blake leans across you, grabbing the clothing from the chair. He holds it aloft, in Daniel’s line of sight.
“No idea what that’s doing here, mate. You know I always bring a t-shirt of Y/N’s which should be under the pillow.”
Your heart swells at the statement, you had no idea he’d sneak something of yours with him whenever you couldn’t attend races. The earlier doubts dissipate, you knew right here, with Daniel, was where you were supposed to be.
“Strange… oh! I know what’s happened.” Blake shoots you a grin before wrapping a hand around your arm, pulling you into the doorway.
Smiling softly at Daniel, you huff lightly at the way his eyes widen almost comically as he takes you in. Silence spreads through the room, the two of you locked in intense eye contact as Blake slowly moves aside to let you reunite.
“Hello, my love.”
Daniel’s bottom lip wobbles slightly and before you can process it, he’s launched across the room, almost body slamming you with the force he runs at you with. Arms latch tightly around your waist, his head tucked tightly into your neck, trembling lips resting against your pulse point.
“What, I, how?” The words are muffled against your skin, the edges of them tear soaked as the collar of your t-shirt dampens to match.
Carding your hand through his still sweaty curls, you scratch lightly against his scalp. “As soon as you told me, Blake texted me. He booked me on the next flight.”
Daniel’s head pops out from his hiding place, all three of you ignoring the tears smattering his cheeks. He looks across to Blake, who simply shrugs his shoulders, reaching down to grab his gym bag.
“You needed them, and they needed you. It was a no brainer. Also, don’t get sappy with me, I charged the flight to your business card.” A chuckle follows and he claps Daniel on the back once, nodding in your direction before heading out the front door, the sound of it closing echoing slightly.
Daniel’s eyes track from the closing door back to you, wide in wonderment. “But your conference?”
Shrugging, you lean forward to press a soft kiss to the apple of his cheek. “Called in a family emergency. There’s no way I was letting you go through this alone.” You lift your hand up to his face, tracing a path across the same cheek you’d just kissed. “I know your parents or your friends can't be here, but I couldn’t bear the thought of you having to deal with everything going on with no kind of support. I know Blake’s here but-”
You’re cut off by his lips covering yours, desperation seeping through as the words die on your tongue. The taste of salt blooms, the tears still dripping slowly from his eyes. Yours join in quick succession. A rushed “I love you” slips from your mouth the moment you part, his own coming straight after.
The slide of his lips against your own turns molasses slow, the cooled sweat on both of you soon making way for its heated counterpart as you gravitate closer to one another. Warm hands sneak under your t-shirt, the palms cupping the swell of your hips as Daniel whispers words of gratitude through stolen breaths. Your own hands rest against his neck, nails creating slight grooves under the pressure.
Knowing what will come tomorrow, you take in this moment, second by second. The feel of his sweat slick skin under your palms, the slight stubble on his jaw scratching at your chin, the way his heart beats erratically in his chest pressed close to yours.
Every part of this Daniel you memorise, capturing each memory in a gold plated frame. You store them away in the evergrowing gallery of your brain dedicated to the man before you, seal them under lock and key for your eyes only.
You always knew that one day, you’d share them with him. When all the racing was over and the two of you had the house with the white picket fence, or more aptly, the farm with the white picket fence. You’d dissect every moment of him you stored away, stacked one by one for safekeeping. From the moment the two of you met in that busy London street, every grand prix win, every high followed by every low. Just in case he began to forget the man he was, the man he would still be.
You just didn’t realise that day would be coming so soon.
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ynstagram danielricciardo
[caption 2: gorgeous boy xx]
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After the race, you’d left Daniel to his own devices. You knew he would want to spend his time wandering around the track, soaking in every moment of what could be his last ever race.
Grabbing a ride back with Blake, the two of you stick to small talk, neither able to formulate the words you truly wanted to say.
He’d given you a brief goodbye in the lobby, arms wrapped around you in a tight squeeze before the two of you separated, him taking the stairs and you choosing to ride in the elevator.
Shuffling through the front door, you kick your shoes off, nudging them next to the other pairs in the entryway. On the way up, you’d sent Daniel a quick text to let you know when he was on his way back.
Expecting him to respond around midnight, you slowly work through your nighttime routine, opting to wear one of his shirts to bed instead of the pyjamas you’d neatly packed.
Slipping into bed, you unlock your phone, squinting at the brightness. Still no messages from Daniel, the 1:27am at the top of your phone making you sigh deeply. Reaching over, you plug your phone onto charge before starting up a well loved podcast, choosing an episode you could probably quote from memory with how often you relistened to it.
As the dulcet voices fall away to background noise, you settle in for the night, head half shoved into the pillow beside you, Daniel’s scent still lingering from this morning.
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Blearily opening your eyes as the other side of the bed dips lightly, you quickly tap your phone to see the time. A bold 3:57am blinks back at you briefly before the screen goes dark once more.
“Didn’t mean to wake you, sorry babe.” Daniel’s voice whispers in the darkness, hand winding its way around your waist to pull you back to his chest.
Resting your hand over his, fingers interlocking in the open spaces, you squeeze twice. “s’ok, wanted to see you when you got back anyway.”
Silence follows and before you can roll over to look at Daniel, his face presses into the centre of your shoulder blades, the skin warm through the fabric of the shirt.
“Danny?”
He stays quiet, the hand on your waist gripping tighter. You can hear the way his breath starts to shake on the inhale, the tears from his eyes slowly dampening the back of his shirt currently wrapped around you.
“Danny, lemme see you.” A shake of his head rustles the shirt. “Baby, please.”
His grip on your waist loosens and you shuffle around carefully, trying to avoid shoving an elbow in his ribs and adding further insult to injury.
You can hardly make out his face, the small amount of moonlight shining through the haphazardly closed curtains barely illuminating the curve of his cheek. It does catch the glint of his honey brown eyes, tears shimmering along his lash line.
“Oh, my love.” Your heart breaks at the sight of the man in front of you, a shell of who you’ve come to know and love. The pressure behind your eyes builds, tears threatening to mirror Daniel’s. “C’mere.”
One hand wrapping around the back of his neck, you pull him to lay against you. He burrows in, head pressed tight into the junction between your neck and shoulder, a sombre juxtaposition to this morning.
“This is the end. Everything I’ve worked for, over. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” His arm wraps tight around your waist once more, his leg coming to rest between yours. “I’m officially a has-been.” A wet chuckle escapes him, the noise too loud in the surrounding silence.
You can’t stop yourself from tapping the back of his neck lightly. He knows you hate when he talks like that. “No one’s allowed to talk about the man I love like that.”
His head lifts from your neck to throw you a quick glance. “Even if it’s the man himself?”
Pulling him back to rest against your neck, you run your hands through his hair gently, twirling the longer strands around one of your fingers. “Especially if it’s the man himself. You’re not a has-been, never will be. You’re so talented in so many different ways, there will never be a time you can say you’re past your prime or whatever stupid shit is running around that gorgeous head of yours.” Your fingers tap against his scalp to drive the point home. “Even if you never step foot in one of those cars again, you’ve got your dirt biking, the wine company, Enchante, the 17 other high intensity sports you do that raise my blood pressure every time I watch. You’re smart enough to know how to adapt, and that is what you’ll do. I know it.”
“You seem very sure.” His voice comes out muffled from its spot against your neck, his breath tickling your skin.
“That’s because I am. I was by your side during the papaya setback, I saw how you came back stronger. That’s what this situation is too, a setback. You’ll find a way through, even if I have to stand by the solution with a flashlight to guide you that way.”
He chuckles, the edges of his voice no longer tainted with sorrow. “Can you still not say their name?”
You join his laughter, remembering the last time you’d spoken about McLaren. “Last time I mentioned that company, I got a cease and desist. Don’t think Zac was too happy with the way I was deservedly slagging them off.” Your nose wrinkles as you think back to the snottily worded email and attached letter that dropped into your inbox a few days after your last public comment about their shitty management. “So I promised to never let that name slip from my lips again.”
The room falls silent again, just for a moment. The two of you still tangled in an embrace, even as the first prickles of sweat bead against your hairline from the heat of your bodies in the warm Singapore evening.
Daniel sighs, shuffling minutely to run a hand up and down the length of your side. “I just… I remember when I was 20. Being so excited to get into an actual F1 car, even as a tester. I remember jumping out, seeing that I was the fastest and thinking ‘this is it. This is my chance.’ I wanted to be a Red Bull driver so bad, with every part of me. To win a race, maybe even win a world championship, leave a legacy behind. And now I’ve wasted over a decade of my life with only 8 race wins to show for it. Not even a championship. What kind of legacy does that leave me?”
The sorrow creeps back into his voice, and you have to clear your throat before responding, willing the tears back once more. “A legacy doesn’t have to mean winning a world championship. Or even a race. Think about Jacky Ickx, Stirling Moss, Juan Pablo Montoya. All legends in their own right, but none of them had a world championship. If this was your last race in Formula 1, you leave behind a legacy in your own right. People will know your name for years, even decades to come. King of the late brakers, the guy who always had a smile and a kind word to say about everyone he ever met; even if they didn’t deserve it, the aptly named Honey Badger. Just because you don’t leave behind a legacy in being number 1, doesn’t mean you won’t be up there with the greats.”
Daniel hums, taking in your words, dissecting them one by one. “I’m scared. Where do I go now? Do I even try to come back? Move to a different company entirely? Retire officially and retreat to the farm? I don’t know who I am without Formula 1.”
You take a moment to think about the situation for yourself. A world where Daniel Ricciardo is no longer a Formula 1 driver. It always seemed so impossible to you, the company so deeply ingrained into his being that the very idea of him would cease to exist without it in his life.
“Truthfully, I don’t know.” Your hand continues to card through his hair, a soothing gesture. Whether it was meant to soothe him or you, you weren’t too sure. “I wouldn’t even know where to start with advice, I’ve never had to walk in your shoes. But that doesn’t need to be something to think about right now. Enjoy some downtime, go home and spend time with your family, race dirt bikes around different parts of the world, go see Scotty and Chloe. The future is still so bright for you, Danny. And I’m just happy that I get to be beside you through it all.”
Slowly, he raises his head from its perch, bright eyes finding yours. Despite the situation, you swear he’s never looked more beautiful than in this moment. Teeth bitten lips find yours in the dim light, clumsy and fierce, but perfect in its own right.
“I love you. So fucking much. From the first day we met and you shouted at me for splashing you with a puddle, I knew you were the one. Thank you for never leaving.”
You laugh aloud, remembering how you’d been late for university, umbrella thrashing in the England wind, when a bike had come up dangerously close beside you, running straight through a puddle and covering your jeans in muddy water.
After a long rant at the rider, you’d looked up into apologetic golden eyes and high cheekbones, and immediately the anger had dissipated. “And I love you. Maybe not from the puddle moment, but you won me over nearly immediately after. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here, with you.”
This is the moment. The moment to open the gallery in your mind to the man in front of you. To recall each and every moment you’d captured in glossy oils and remind him of who he is, who he always has been.
And then Daniel lays his head back down to your chest, lips pressing an appreciative kiss to the shirt underneath, warmth blossoming through the fabric to your skin below. And the moment passes.
Pressing your head back into the pillow below, you listen to how Daniel’s breathing slows, settling down as he drifts off to sleep. The perfect moment will come back. There’s still time.
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formula1 BREAKING: Daniel Ricciardo to leave RB, the team have announced
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fan what the fuck
fan not danny ric 💔💔
fan we just got him back😭😭😭
fan helmut marko watch your back.
user lol not surprised, we all knew he was washed ↳ fan 123.456.789.012 ↳ user did i just get doxxed?
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👤 danielricciardo liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 890,274 others
ynstagram the man of many names. danny ric, ricky bobby, honey badger and most importantly, the love of my life. i've loved you for 6 summers and i'll love you for 600 more.
in the words of our favourite musical, wherever you go i won't be far to follow. whether it's in the navy of the bulls, papaya of [REDACTED], the bee striped renault or the dazzling white of vcarb, you bring so much light and happiness everywhere you go, and i've been privileged to bask in the warmth of you.
and until the next adventure, i will always be here to remind you of the power and strength you inhabit, the souls you've breathed life into and the happiness you've brought to the sport you love (sometimes more than me) for over a decade.
always and forever, your y/n x
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fan anyone else absolutely sobbing right now?? ↳ fan as if his post wasn't enough to make me bawl, ofc y/n drops this
fan to have a love like y/n and danny...
fan not y/n censoring mclaren, they hate that damn team so much ♥️ ynstagram
danielricciardo my darling, i love you, always and forever ❤️ ↳ ynstagram so excited for our future, whatever it holds ❤️
landonorris thanks y/n max is crying now 👍 ↳ ynstagram 🤣 which one? ↳ maxfewtrell both ↳ maxverstappen1 both
alexandrasaintmleux 🩷 we need another double date when you're back in monaco x ↳ ynstagram do we have to bring them? ↳ danielricciardo on my own dedication post... wow ↳ ynstagram 🤷 gotta show my girl love whenever i can
fan helmut better hide, y/n doesn't play when it comes to their man ↳ fan fr don't let the sappy post fool you, ik they have a hitlist in their notes
fan him leaving before COTA is so messed up, he loves that track 😭😭😭 ↳ ynstagram wish you guys could have seen the special helmet :( ↳ fan OH HELMUT MARKO WHEN I CATCH U!!!!!!! ↳ fan special helmet... pls we need to see i BEG
lewishamilton with you by his side, the future is bright for the honey badger 🤍 ↳ ynstagram thanks lew 🩷 ↳ danielricciardo thanks man :)
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a/n: this is not proof read, so ignore any mistakes. i can't wait to see what danny does in the future, whatever it is, i'll be supporting him all the way <3
#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo fanfic#daniel ricciardo fic#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic
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Lay all your love on me ! | Don’t go, wasting your emotions.
Lil thingy I did, KillerDust being homies ( requested by @chasani hi sani ) while being chased by Dreamberry gang ! ( my own addition sort of )
I was supposed to doodle how it ended up finishing, but I’ll write it instead — DreamBerry ends up crashing against the wall because Dream Can’t Drive and KillerDust kiss… the end 💕
➽───────────────❥
➽ Credits.
Dream belongs to | Joku.
Swap belongs to | The au community
Killer belongs to | @/rahafwabas
Dust belongs to | @/ask-dusttale
➽───────────────❥
#mdraw#killerdust#dustkiller#killertale#killer sans#dusttale#dust sans#killer x dust#dust x killer#ship art#requested#dreamberry#bleam#swap x dream#dream x swap#dream x blue#blue x Dream#tw gun
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Hi sorry for asking but I read your request thingy and I'm curious if you could do a vanessa(fnaf movie) x female reader smut maybe dubcon or noncon idk but I would appreciate it or even just smut .
thank you for reading this even if u don't write it -▫️
a/n: hhhhhsvshshshsh yes. Wait I also just realized yall signed off with emojis let me know if you want me to tag your asks as that or smth.
Trigger warnings: smut, legal age gap (reader is 20 and Vanessa is 29/early 30s), reader is Mike's little sister, vaginal fingering, dubcon, stalking.
Vanessa told herself to stay away.
You were Mike's little sister, in college from the information she managed to get from the small talk she had with Mike. And you were off limits.
But she couldn't stop thinking about you.
Running her hands all over your body, making you moan and whimper, she'd make you see stars if she wanted to.
But she wasn't allowed anywhere near you.
She couldn't even breath around you without having Mike scold her.
She understands why he's so protective over his two sisters, after all, he did loose his brother when he was 12. That would have definitely been traumatic. And she knows he wouldn't want to let that happen again.
But still.
He was annoying, she couldn't ask you how your day was without feeling Mike's gaze on the back of her head, he knew she was gay, that was no secret she kept, she was open and proud, and made it clear she didn't like men.
It just wasn't fair, she just wanted to talk to you, make you smile and laugh, make sure you're safe, she cares about you too, even abby, she liked all of you three being around the restaurant working late hours. You bad joined your brother in sharing some night shifts together as you had told her you wanted to save up and one day get out of this boring town, she was supportive of that, since she knew how you felt.
She also knows all of your schedules including when your brother is off for the night.
Luckily he had abby to look after since he knew you can take care of yourself.
She watched you say your goodbyes to your siblings as you hugged them and they saw you off in Mike's car, you blasted your music, Fleetwood mac as she smiled, imagining her sitting next to you in the car as she listens to you sing along.
She followed you all the way to the pizzaria, you grabbed your energy drink, a book, your walkman, and you were off to work.
She'd usually visit you when you worked alone, since that was the only time she could see you without him around.
Vanessa got out of her car, shutting the door behind her as she walked inside the pizzeria.
She saw you sitting in the security room, looking at the monitors as she smiled, leaning against the entrance.
"Hey."
You jumped, startled. Letting out a gasp as you looked around only to see a familiar blonde.
"Shit, you scared me!" You said.
"Sorry" Vanessa chuckled, looking amused by your reaction. "I just wanted to check up on you."
"I'm doing okay, it's not that bad" you said, Vanessa stepped into the office, shutting the door behind her as you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
"What are you?-"
You were cut off from your words as you felt her grab you by the arms, pushing you up against the wall as she pressed her lips to yours, knocking the air out of you.
"Just shut up" She mumbled, you froze, unsure of what to do. Sure, you felt attraction towards her, but your brother said to stay away from her, you didn't understand why since she was always kind towards you and your sister and even him. You wanted to get to know her better, maybe even become friends. "Stop talking."
You felt her hands roam your body, touching you as you felt your cheeks heat up, you wasn't sure if you should scream or try to push her off because you didn't even feel that uncomfortable.
She was pretty after all.
You were a sucker for pretty blondes.
Ans she happend to be one.
You just kept your mouth shut, letting her touch you as you could hear her breathing turn ragged.
"God that annoying brother of yours" She muttered, moving her hands to get rid of your belt on your jeans. "So fucking nosy, always around you. I just wanted to talk to you. See you."
You gasped, feeling her cold fingers rub against your clit, you bit back a moan, as you gripped onto her.
"I know you like me to" She moaned, feeling how wet you are, "always looking at me when you think I'm not watching. I'm always watching."
You bucked your hips onto her hand, chasing your high as you were desperate.
Vanessa grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to stare at her.
"Now I've got you all to myself" She smiled.
#fnaf x you#fnaf x y/n#fnaf x reader#fnaf smut#fnaf vanessa x reader#vanessa shelly x reader#stuff i wrote
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Saw your drabble list challenge thingie, here's my request, absolutely no pressure or whatsoever though.
Wanda + hugs + no. 24
Your writing makes me so giddy and warm, like a school girl kicking her legs while reading dork diaries.
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
prompt: hugging with height difference | warnings: none.
The team had thrown a big party to celebrate your return.
Wanda was feeling a bit out of the loop. Of course, she was relieved and genuinely happy that you were back, safe, and with little more than a few scratches on your face. But the setting, a room full of Avengers and anyone else Tony Stark could get at such short notice, wasn't exactly her scene.
Besides, Wanda barely had time to see you. Your sudden arrival at the compound was as quick as your departure - Shield had a lot of questions about your last mission. And the brief wave and a whisper of "see you later" was the only greeting Wanda received.
She forced herself to go to the party - Out of consideration for you and also because the Black Widow had politely persuaded her to attend.
But going didn't mean participating, and Wanda spent most of the night hiding in the bar while you told people all about your adventures in space with Captain Danvers and the God of Thunder - the latter seemed quite happy to have the attention stolen since he could focus on his fiancée Jane, instead of fawning guests.
Wanda hadn't seen Carol since she arrived, and she wished you had been as quick as the captain in escaping the guests.
Her patience grew thin as the night went on. In fact, Wanda could have stopped pouting at any moment and gone to greet you (Natasha's words, not hers) but she ended up being overcome by introversion, and the pain in her feet from the heels she chose, so just before they cut your cake - a birthday lost due to your time out of the planet - she sneaked out.
She could talk to you tomorrow. Or any other day, when she no longer has that nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach every time she imagines herself under your attention, talking directly to you, or being alone in your presence.
The path to the room is lonely since that side of the compound is empty due to the party. She holds her heels in her right hand but almost drops them on the floor when the elevator at the other end of the hallway opens, and you stumble out, breathless as if you were running to catch up with it.
"Hey, Wanda!" Your face lights up with a mix of happiness and relief, having managed to find her, so close to her bedroom door. She shifted her weight between her feet, smiling awkwardly. You tried to seem less flustered. "I can't believe you ran away from my party."
Wanda only realized how much she missed having you torment her when you did it again. She felt a lump form in her throat, surprising herself with the sudden urge to cry. You sighed immediately, as affected to see her again as she was.
"Sorry." She murmurs hoarsely. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”
“I know.” You give her a small smile, and Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she notices your footsteps toward her. “I guess I’m the one who should apologize. For not coming to talk to you sooner.”
She shakes her head. “You seemed busy.”
“Busy for my best friend? Never.” You assure her, earning a tearful laugh from her. Wanda isn’t surprised when your hands find her cheeks, wiping away the tears she hadn’t even realized she’d let fall. It was the first thing you did for her so long ago, back in a cell in Sokovia when you first met her, and something you’ve done ever since whenever she thinks of Pietro. You frown, worried about her tears, and Wanda sniffs softly, trying to control her emotions. “Did I say something wrong?”
She brings her free hand to your left wrist, massaging your skin with her thumb, while your hands linger on her cheeks, caressing the damp skin. “It’s just… so good to see you again.” She confesses, smiling through her tears. "You took a while."
"The longest months of my life, believe me." You comment, offering her a small smile. There's a quick exchange of glances between you. Wanda thinks she imagines your eyes falling to her lips before you sigh and look at her with such affection that she feels her heart swell. "Come here, Wands."
She doesn't need to be told twice. It's not the first time she's hugged you, but it's only the third. The first time, you carried her in your arms away from a fallen city, and Wanda let her arms wrap around your neck. She couldn't even tell if it could be considered a hug, but it meant the world to her. The second, the first real hug, was on impulse after long training sessions in the tower and you were on enough adrenaline to forget about your super strength. Wanda complained softly, and you never hugged her again after a series of apologies.
But tonight, you wrapped your arms around her. Gentle at first, then as tight as you could. Wanda let her heels slide to the floor, her hands moving up to your back. The height difference between her and a Kryptonian was considerable, but it only made everything more perfect. She didn’t think much, just buried her face against your chest, inhaling deeply and letting her body relax into your hold.
Your fingers wrapped around her hair, massaging her scalp and running through the strands as she felt the heat from her cheeks spread throughout her body. She could no longer tell if it was emanating from you or her.
"I really missed you, witchy."
She nodded softly at your words, her heart racing in her chest. She realized at that moment that there was no way to put into words the feeling that your absence caused her. She sighed, tightening the hug a little. You seemed to understand exactly what she meant.
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#writing challenge#wanda maximoff imagines#marvel imagines#elizabeth olsen x reader#what do you mean i forgot to post idk what you are talking about
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Paint Me A Picture
Pairing- Luke Castellan x Artist!Reader
Warnings- Showering together (no smut tho), mentions of trauma.
A/N- SEND ME REQUESTS PLEASEEEEE
“C’mon baby, please just try.” Luke practically whined, he had been begging you to sketch him, but you had refused.
“Luke, it’s not gonna turn out well and it’s gonna be disappointing.” You reply, shading a section in with the mechanical pencil in hand. You’d been sketching the scenery as the two of you sat beside the lake, enjoying the warmth of the water. Luke had dragged you down to the lake to hang out, now you were here, his head resting on your stomach, body slotted between your legs.
“I’ve seen your drawing of Annabeth, it’s amazing baby, I know you can do it.” He insist, reminding you of a drawing that you hated.
“God, it was awful, the shading was all wrong and so were the nose proportions.” You groan, setting down the drawing of the scenery you were working on to tangle your hands in his hair. He hums softly, moving a hand to rest on your knee.
“I don’t know why you’re so hard on yourself, babe, you’re so talented.” He reassures, voice drenched with admiration.
“Thank you, I love you and how much you support me.”
“I love you too, baby.” He responds, closing his eyes and enjoying your warmth. Before he could enjoy it for long, you looked at your watch and realized the time.
“Luke, c’mon, you’re supposed to be helping some new kids with sparring.” You take his hand, helping him up and walking him toward the sparring grounds, listening to him grumble about his cuddles being interrupted.
Later that night, Luke and you found yourselves sitting in your usual spot beside the bonfire, his head rested on your shoulder. Your fingers carded through his curls, enjoying the soft texture of them against your rough hands.
“Mmmmm, I need to wash my hair tonight.” He hums, his voice vibrating against your chest. “Maybe you could draw me then.” He persists, and you let out a long sigh.
“Luke, I can’t draw you and help you wash your hair at the same time.” You remind, his face flushing red in embarrassment.
“C’mon, not everyone needs to know we shower together.” He whispers, earning a soft giggle from you.
“I don’t think anyone heard.” You reassure, smoothing a hand over his curls. Before he could reply, more people began to settle in beside the bonfire, causing the both of you to quiet down and pay attention.
You and Luke found yourselves back in the showers after the bonfire, your hands smoothing the conditioner into his hair. He began doing the same for you, pulling your warm, wet body to his once he finished applying conditioner to the ends of your hair.
“Can we use that fancy exfoliation thingy or whatever?” He asks quietly, making you smile a bit at his request.
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You say, reaching for the container of sugar scrub behind you.
“Need to look good so you can draw me.” He murmurs, taking the container from you and scooping some of the scrub out. Rather than using it on himself first, he opted to scrub your chest with gentle circles.
“I- fine baby, I’ll draw you, only if you stay in my cabin tonight.” He groans as you speak, you knew he didn’t like staying in your cabin, since the girls tended to tease him.
“Fine.” He grumbles, continuing to wash your body as you did the same to his. You would never get tired of seeing him like this, warm droplets of water dripping down him as he took care of you so gently. You knew how he was one to give more than he could ever receive, his past trauma playing on how he acted in your relationship. You tried your best to show him the love he deserved, the love he never had.
The two of you were now snuggled down in your bed, changed into pajamas, bodies warm from the shower. Luke was in simple grey sweats, tugged down just enough to give a tantalizing view of the tanned, muscular planes of his stomach. Luke rubbed a hand along your hip and thigh, watching over your shoulder as you began the sketch.
“It looks good already, baby.” He murmurs, chin hooked over your shoulder.
“I’ve barely started.” You mumble, focused on capturing the sheer beauty of your sweet boyfriend. He closed his eyes, ready to rest. As he began to fall asleep, the girls from your cabin began to filter in, giggling as they saw Luke in your bed.
“Awww, Y/N’s got her little boyfriend over again, I hope everyone has earplugs tonight!” One of the girls giggles, causing Luke to groan in frustration.
“You can’t be talking when we can hear you and your boyfriend in the showers all the way over here.” You shoot back, causing the girl to flush red, turning her face away and muttering something as she made her way to her bunk.
“Thank you.” Luke hums, pulling you a little closer and pressing a kiss to your neck.
“Anytime.” You reply, voice low and soft as you pick up a pen to finalize the outlines.
“That looks amazing.” He murmurs, reaching over to smooth his thumb along the drawing, as if he didn’t believe it was real.
“Thank you.” You hum in response, continuing on the drawing.
Somewhere in the night, Luke eventually fell into a deep sleep, giggling occasionally to yourself when he’d snore or mumble something in his sleep.
“Lukey baby, wake up, I’m finished.” You whisper, shaking his shoulder softly to rouse him.
“You drew me?” He asked quietly, sleep drenching his voice like honey.
“Yeah, look at it baby, I think it’s pretty good.” You hand him your sketchbook, and his eyes widen, mouth dropping open.
“Wow, baby, this is incredible.” He whispers lazily against your skin, his lips tickling your neck. “Is this really what I look like?” He asks, running his thumb across the scar on his cheek in the drawing.
“Is- Is it bad?” You immediately reply, worried that it didn’t look like he wanted.
“No, no, I just didn’t think I was actually this attractive.” He murmurs.
“Oh baby, of course that’s what you look like. you’re like an angel to me baby.” You reassure, carding your finger through his still-damp curls.
“Oh- well, thanks for drawing me baby, I- I really really love it.” He murmurs once more, before tucking you down beside him in bed, quickly falling fast asleep.
#luke castellan x reader#charlie bushnell x reader#luke castellan fanfic#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan smut#luke castellan x you#luke castellan x y/n
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