#she was like when was the last time you cut. and i was like. um. yesterday. and i SWEARRR she had to stifle a laugh

[ennabear]

BAE. i absofrickenlutely NEED you to write something along the lines of decorating sevika with crimis boas and lights and whatever, maybe while she's sleeping idfk- and have her be like 😠 butt because reader is so cute and sev loves them sm, she can't hide her smile OR WHATEVER THE FUCK I SAID U KNOW WHAT I MEAN😭😭

i also made this for you. um. idk. it's not very. crimis sevika, but more crimis if it was sevikamas. imagine her trapped in an ornament ok plu shut ya face now bai luv u o masterful sevika writer

HAIII PLUTOBAE HEHEHE thank you for this idea, you cooked fr!!!! i’m featuring jinx in this because i’m a sucker for the found family trope and also her ass would LOVE to prank sevika LMAOOO 😭 AND THANKS FOR THE ORNAMENTS I’M HANGING THEM ON MY SEVIKAMAS TREE!!!!

one last thing, idk if they celebrate or even know about christmas in zaun so just pretend they do for a sec… thanks guys!!!

potential s2 spoilers under the cut!! read at your own risk!!!

sevika’s been stressed out of her mind. she’s not used to having this much power, but with silco gone it’s necessary. she’s also had no choice but to take jinx under her wing, which she’s not exactly thrilled about, especially now that jinx has taken her own little cub under her wing too. exhausted is an understatement. she’s got no clue how to lead a rebellion, and much less how to parent.

so you feel a little bit mean for what you’re about to do, but your wife deserves some giggles in these hard times, no matter how pissed she’ll initially be. jinx giggles as she tiptoes toward sevika’s slumped over form, her snores echoing through the room. you hope your wife enjoyed her sleep while she could.

jinx pokes her a few times to make sure she’s sound asleep, and if anything it only pushes sevika deeper into her slumber. you coo at your wife, she finally looks so relaxed after these past few weeks. jinx sticks her tongue out and pretends to gag at the affection you show to your wife, but she quickly switches back to excitement when you hand over a long rope of sparkly red tinsel.

she wastes no time in wrapping it around sevika and tying it to the chair with intricate knots. sevika doesn’t wake up as she gets restrained to the chair, not as you lift up her heavy new arm and wrap it in brightly colored lights, not even as jinx sticks a few shiny bows to her head. “ready?” she asks.

“ready.” you laugh, preparing yourself for the way sevika’s gonna bitch and moan when she wakes up. once jinx presses a few buttons, the loudest version of ‘get jinxed’ booms through the room, and you jump back in surprise. it’s so loud you swear the whole building shakes, and sevika’s awake in an instant with her arm rattling to the sound of the bass.

“turn it off, jinx!” she shouts, wiggling against her restraints in an attempt to cover her ears. “JINX?”

as soon as she catches sight of the blue-haired girl clutching her stomach in a fit of laughter, she looks like she’s about to smash the kid to pieces. “JINX!” she shouts over the music, “TURN IT OFF.”

jinx rushes over and shuts the music off before her own eardrums blow out, but quickly returns to giggling hysterically. “merry christmas, sevika. you’ve been jinxed!” she laughs. “you should’ve seen your face! i didn’t think you could look any angrier than you already do!”

“what the fuck is this!?” sevika shouts with that deep growl that you love in her voice. “what the fuck is wrong wi—” and then she sees you. you’re laughing nearly as hard as jinx, and she can’t help but gawk at you. your smile is her favorite thing in the world, and it’s the only thing that’s keeping her going lately, but how could you be so cruel?

taking advantage of sevika’s surprised, annoyed, and offended state, jinx ties a new string of white lights to the back of sevika’s chair and starts running around her in circles. “you’re in on this?” sevika asks you.

“well, yeah.” you admit, stepping closer to her. your wife gasps and blinks at you blankly. “how could you?”

“you were asleep,” jinx cuts in. “that’s what you get for falling asleep on the clock.” sevika sighs at this, closing her eyes to keep herself under control before she can spew insults at jinx. “i’m not ‘on the clock’ you brat. it’s early in the morning, and i wouldn’t be so tired if you knew how to clean up your own messes.”

you settle yourself on sevika’s lap, slinging your legs over her as she tries and fails to wrap you in her arms. “you look cute.” you say. “i don’t look cute. untie me.” she demands. you ignore her, instead picking up a few ornaments and hanging them from the little half-ponytail in her hair. jinx notices this and practically flies over, sticking a few snowflake shaped hair clips in sevika’s hair.

you can’t help but laugh at your wife, she looks exactly like a christmas tree. if trees could scowl and pout, that is. jinx joins you, stepping back to admire her work beside you. sevika’s lips twist into a flat line, her eyebrows so low they’re about to make contact with her eyes. it’s been a while since you’ve felt a true familial love, but this feels real and warm to you. you giggle even harder as a sudden love for your girls floods your heart, and sevika shakes her head at you in disapproval.

jinx shoves a mirror in sevika’s face, and this time her lips slightly twist up in the corners as she tries her hardest not to smile. she’s glowing with the amount of lights on her, and the amount of sparkly ornaments and clips hanging from her pisses her off even more. it’s ridiculous. and hilarious. and she loves you guys so much, no matter how unwilling she is to admit it.

“don’t smile…” you tease. “don’t you dare smile, sevika. don’t do it.” she shakes her head again, refusing to make eye contact with either of you and instead staring at the floor.

“i’m not… smiling.” she says, holding her lips as straight as she can. you sit yourself in her lap again, holding her close as she muffles her not-smile in the crook of your neck. “you love us.” you accuse. she sighs with a defeated giggle, a smile brighter than the lights wrapped around her body finally settling on her face. “i guess you’re right. get over here, you fucker.” she mumbles, gesturing with her head for jinx to join in the group hug.

jinx reluctantly walks over and wraps her arms around sevika as loosely as she can, although you know deep down that they both love each other more than they pretend to. you smile, pressing a kiss to sevika’s head and ruffling jinx’s bright blue hair.

“pull anything like this again, and my arm will chomp your heads off. both of you.” sevika threatens, although she means it in the most loving way possible. “that’s my arm.” jinx corrects, flicking her in the forehead. “and maybe next time you should try falling asleep in a bed.”

[strnilolover]

ditzy!reader and player!chris first date 😔

i could definitely see player!chris taking ditsy!reader to a place she’s been wanting to go to for a while because he just likes seeing her happy.

(i suck at writing in third person, so y’all are getting second person)

Your hands nervously smoothed over your outfit, your frame standing in front of your mirror. Earlier in the day, chris had asked you if you wanted to go somewhere with him. And you hesitantly agreed, but were happy he asked you to go somewhere.

When you felt like you were ready, you made your way out your front door — quickly locking the door. When you turned back around, chris was already there. His body leaning against his passenger side door.

“There ya are angel — thought you bailed on me last second.” He said, smiling as he opened the car door for you. You laughed nervously, ducking your head as you tucked yourself into his car. “Sorry… I just… um…” your words tampering off.

“Relax,” he said, leaning down in the doors frame as he watched you buckle yourself. “no need to be nervous, you know me.” he stated before closing your door and swiftly making his way to the drivers side.

Once you were on the road, you couldn’t help but wonder where he was taking you. You wanted to ask, but every time you opened your mouth, your nerves got the best of you. After a few minutes of silence, chris glanced over at you, grinning.

His hand reached over, placing it on top of your own before giving it a gentle squeeze. “You can ask where we’re going, you know.” You flushed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh… right. Where are we going?”

He chuckled, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “It’s a surprise. But I think you’ll like it.”

He drove a little longer, the city lights giving way to quieter streets until he pulled up to a cozy little bookstore nestled between two cafes. You eyes widened in surprise, a small gasp escaping your lips as you recognized it.

“This… this is a place i’ve been wanting to come to for a while.” you exclaimed, turning to him, your eyes sparkling. “How did you…?”

He shrugged, trying to look casual, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You might’ve mentioned it once or twice. Figured it was worth checking out.” he said, getting out of the car as he made his way to your side, opening the door for you.

The bookstore was small and dimly lit, shelves packed tightly with books of all kinds, from fantasy novels to historical memoirs. The smell of old paper and coffee filled the air, instantly making you feel at home. You glanced at him, still in awe, and he just nodded toward the door.

“After you, darlin’”

Inside, you wandered through the aisles, fingers brushing over the spines of books. You stopped at a shelf lined with fantasy novels, picking up one you’d been wanting to read. You turned it over in your hands, momentarily lost in the synopsis.

When you looked up, chris was leaning against the shelf, arms crossed, watching you with a smirk. “You’re seriously just going to read? Didn’t know you’d ditch me for a book.” he said, faking a pout.

You blushed, hands fumbling with the book. “No! I just… I really like this one. I’ve been wanting to read it for a while.”

“Then get it,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. When you hesitated, he rolled his eyes and snatched it out of your hands, heading toward the counter. “Consider it a gift, yeah?”

Your cheeks flushed a deeper pink. “Chris, you don’t have to—” He gave you a look, cutting you off. “I know. But I want to.” and you stopped, figuring he probably wouldn’t budge.

While he bought the book, you wandered toward the small coffee shop section at the back, feeling her heart race. You weren’t sure if it was because you had never been here before or if it was because he had brought her here. Chris, who you thought barely listened when you rambled about books, had actually remembered something you’d mentioned in passing. It was more thoughtful than you’d ever expected.

When he returned, book in hand, he nodded toward the coffee counter. “Go on, order whatever you want.” you opened your mouth to protest, but he gave you another ‘don’t start’ look and quickly dropped it.

So you picked a simple drink, something warm and comforting, and you sat down in the corner by a small round table, surrounded by shelves of books on all sides. You took a sip, feeling the warmth spread through you, and looked up to find chris already looking at you.

“So,” he said, leaning back, his arms folding behind his head. “have you been wanting to come here for a while? i know you mentioned it like, oh i don’t know, a billion times.” He teased, smirking.

You nodded, glancing around. “I saw this place on a post a friend of mine made… it looked so wonderful and it honestly doesn’t disappoint.” You admitted.

He chuckled. “I can tell. You look like you’re in heaven.” You looked down, blushing. “I just… really like books. They’re like… little worlds, you know? Places you can escape to.”

“Can’t say I get it, but… I don’t mind seeing you happy,” he said, his usual teasing tone gone. You glanced up, “So, what’s that one about?” he asked, nodding toward the book he’d just bought you.

You started to explain, describing the plot with growing excitement, your nerves forgotten. You were so absorbed in telling him about the story that you didn’t notice the way he was watching you. His usual smirk was now a smile. Something that only you really did to him.

As you finished, you glanced up, catching his gaze, and felt your face grow warm again. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to go on like that.” He shook his head, a faint smile still lingering. “Nah, it’s cute. Always seeing you get so excited over some books.”

You looked down, biting you lip to hide your smile. “I’m just… really happy you brought me here. I didn’t think… I mean, I didn’t think you’d even remember.”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just because I don’t spend all day reading doesn’t mean I don’t listen. Besides,” he added, leaning in closer, “I like seeing you like this.”

Your breath caught, heart pounding as you managed a soft, “Thank you… really.” He reached over, taking the book from your hands and flipping through the pages casually. “Guess I’ll have to read it, see what all the fuss is about.”

You laughed nervously, unsure if he was serious or just teasing. “I… think you might actually like it.” He smirked, setting the book down, his gaze steady on you. “Maybe I will. Maybe you’ll just have to tell me more about it.”

You stayed a while longer, sipping coffee and talking in quiet voices, surrounded by books and the warm, cozy ambiance of the shop. When it was time to go, he held the door open for you, walking you back to his car. You hugged the book close to your chest, a smile lingering on your face as you drove back in comfortable silence.

When you got home and reached your doorstep, he turned to you with that familiar smirk.

For a second, you thought he might lean in — and when he did, you froze. Quickly putting your hand up to rest on his chest. He stopped, a puzzled look coming across his face — but he just smiled. Opting to take your hand and press a small peck to it.

“s’okay angel.” he said as he pulled back. When he turned to walk away, he looked back at you. “see ya tomorrow, yeah?” and at that, all you did was nod.

© strnilolover

[ma1dita]

heyyyy! can i get a ticket for the graveyard smash! starring steve harrington with chocolate and ice cream??

1980s horror film

[STARRING: STEVE HARRINGTON x reader ;  “Really? Now? God, you have terrible timing.” “How long have you been watching me?” ] wc: 1.3k warnings: MDNI- mentions of unspecified drugging, kidnapping, dubcon, light bondage, biting biting biting, slight p in v at the end; hot topic was first opened in 1989 but i couldn’t care less about accuracy rn okay go be horny and enjoy

monster mash-terlist

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

This happened because of an ice cream and an offer.

It was after 9pm already with Starcourt void of mindless Hawkins crowds, and the building dimmed to help the few poor souls who close up shop on $3.35 an hour.

You were a pretty thing that walked by every so often and quite frankly the only reason he’d always find himself looking in the direction of the brand new Hot Topic that opened up three stores down—powdered skin and blood red lips dressed straight out of a dark fantasy. Pretty weird—Dustin swore he’s seen a picture of you in the Dungeons and Dragons handbook. But something about you was captivating; Steve would choke on air every time your eyes would meet over the register on days his friend would drag him in to look at collectibles and game pieces. This looks like a store the freaks he used to bully would frequent more, but as he moseys around the aisles pretending to look interested in merch from bands he’s never heard of and a wall of different fishnet stockings and nose piercings—he doesn’t realize you’ve snuck up next to him.

“Find what you’re looking for?”

Steve flinches slightly when your voice cuts through a lull in the incomprehensible screamo music that reverberates through the store. He’s an oddity here, the all-American sweetheart standing against your rack of black lace and ripped jeans.

“Um, I’m not…sure,” he stutters, suave confidence quickly broken at the sight of you smirking at his discomfort. He booked it quickly after that, opting to stand outside and stare through the window while Dustin’s gummy grin greeted you with his purchase.

You haven’t left his mind since—so his way of coping was to lean against the counter of his workplace keeping his eyes peeled for a cloud of darkness to walk by.

“You’ve always wanted things you can’t have, huh dingus?” his best friend said, nudging him roughly as she chucks her sailor hat at him and swivels toward the exit, “See you tomorrow!”

“W-what? You’re not gonna help me close up?”

Robin smirks as she walks backwards, pointing in the direction of your store and grinning at his dumbfounded expression, “You got it, tough guy. Here’s your opportunity!”

And it came in the form of watching you throw your whole weight on the rolling storefront gate, grunting as it bounced back to the midway point.

Thankfully Steve was always a helpful guy, especially with pretty girls in need.

“Need a hand?”

“God, how long have you been watching me? This is embarrassing,” you laugh—and the sound of it sounds cool to the touch. Your platform boots thunked against the tile floor, his attention gravitating upwards from your stockinged legs up to the corset that pushed your ti–what is he doing here again? Steve clears his throat, looking in any other direction, licking his lips as his hands pressed against yours to push the gate shut, and it felt like magic. Electric, he thinks, and he looks at you with bated breath before asking if you want an ice cream before he closes the shop.

What a treat, right?

The last time Steve had a headache this bad, Billy Hargrove had beaten him to a pulp and given him a mild concussion.

He’s laid out and completely bare, hands and ankles bound with ropes to the posts of your bed. Blinking slowly, he realizes he can’t see much in the dim candlelight that fills your bedroom, twinkling through the gauzy fabric that hangs from your canopy. Your weight is almost comforting against the firmness of his torso if it weren’t for the fact that goosebumps cover every inch of his skin. And you’re looking down at him with your canines bared in a toothy grin.

“Been waiting for you to wake up, pretty boy,” you coo. Steve groans at the sight of you wearing nothing but moonlight, sitting atop him like a queen on her throne. He can feel his cock standing at attention and resting against the plump of your asscheeks, soft and smooth like the rest of you. Steve can’t tell if this is his worst nightmare or biggest dream come true, still in a haze as he watches your black claws for nails rake slowly up his hairy chest, index finger grazing a nipple and he hisses— a sound you’ve pulled out from deep within his core. You laugh at his utter desperation; it’s a funny thing to be wanted by someone so completely opposite of you, so good it almost feels wrong. But nothing about the way your lipstick marks dot his skin could ever feel like this was not meant to be.

“How…what ha—” he slurs, until a perfectly manicured finger taps against his open mouth, dragging the digit down towards his Adam's apple. It almost scratches at him, the stiletto shape sharp enough to pierce his jugular if you pressed down with force. Your tongue peeks out from behind your plush lips, messy and stained dark red which is now becoming your favorite color with how good Steve makes it look.

“Shhh….” you pout, “Don’t ruin it baby. Gonna make you feel good, okay?” There’s a breathiness to your voice, sounding like something out of a black and white film. Your makeup is smearing further when you bite your lip like that, staining the front of your teeth as you languidly kiss and lick at the sensitive spots on his neck, to his collarbones, and down to his nipples. Spit gurgles in his throat as Steve moans, writhing against his restraints at your actions.

And then you bite him.

Teeth sinking into the meat of his pec, Steve Harrington howls in surprise as you mark him, fingertips soothing over the indents as you place your mouth onto his open one, remembering to grind your wetness onto his cock and he’s gasping for air between kisses. The sensations are overwhelming—his brain short-circuits before kissing you back, opening up to let you devour him, teeth and tongue and spit. The balmy texture of your lipstick has made its way onto Steve’s taste buds and he swallows it whole to try and remember you in case this isn’t real.

But the hood of your clit catches on his cockhead after you swipe your hips against his and the both of you moan into each other’s throats. He has a hold on you too, even if you can’t see it. You bite his bottom lip before detaching from it, watching it swell under your constant attention. Leaning over him once more, he croaks at the feeling of your tits pressing against his chest, someone pinch him if this isn’t real—but the pain spikes through his system when you bite the soft of his neck. Again, and again, and again, hickeys mapping down his pulsepoint at your insistence. 

Steve doesn’t see it coming, the pain building at the heat in his stomach until his cock physically throbs against your folds and his vision blurs at the sensation until he feels your palms against his chest and hears you clicking your tongue.

“Really? God you have terrible timing, Stevie. I’m still having fun.”

Cum leaks between your thighs as his body twitches beneath you and you sigh, “That just won’t do, baby. You can handle it can’t you?” Your hand slithers down to cup his balls, massaging him as he spurts onto his lower stomach. There’s tears in the corner of his eyes as he pleads, “Wait…” The blood pools to the surface of his skin, sensitive to the touch. Steve’s a pretty thing underneath you, decorated in blooming bruises, and you decide that red must be his color.

He looks good enough to eat.

You hitch your leg over his hips properly mounting him as you sink yourself onto his overstimulated cock. The way your eyes roll into the back of your head, he’s not sure if he’s hurt you—and then your mouth pulls into a smile, almost as if a form of self-destruction as you lift up onto your haunches again, about to strike.

“Ready?”

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ma1dita's monster mash is closed for requests but ongoing for the rest of october!

[iinterstellars]

" ⸻ what do i like... about sex? " the amusement is clear in his features. for a moment he actually considers telling her, how he likes it, what he prefers, the kinks he's acquired. not because he WANTS to talk about that, but just to see her reaction; she was always so enthralled whenever the bits and pieces of his life made their way through conversation. thomas, so painfully dense, couldn't understand why she found it fascinating but, in turn, he also found her receptivity to be refreshing. still, the little common sense that was still hanging on for dear life was REALLY packing a punch and he doesn't. instead he just tilts his head to one side, and looks at her. " i don't think it's interesting if i just tell you. do you have any theories? " for once the flirtatious tone she is SO good at using doesn't bother him, mostly because his is almost there. bordering the line between teasing and playful. NOT GOOD in normal circumstances but he couldn't care any less right now. oh. her laugh, so real and unrestrained manages to disarm him in a way he wasn't ready for. he wishes he could freeze this moment FOREVER, live in it until he takes his last breath. she's so goddamn gorgeous he's finding it hard to focus on what she says. all he knows is that it's a question. " hm? " when he comes back to his senses he has to think, try to recall what they were talking about. " um... it varied depending on how much energy i had left to cook. egg fried rice, hearty salads, steak if i was particularly hungry and had the patience for it. " there were other things too, obviously. but all things considered, despite knowing HOW to cook he didn't spend that much time in the kitchen. most of the time he ate at the hospital or got it delivered. " oh you're gonna make me even more hungry... middle eastern food was one of my favorites. " he didn't have it often but when he did it was always out of this world. " mostly, yeah... i wouldn't go out of my way to get it though. " now this does make him feel a little dumbfounded. he's only slightly aware of how... dense he is. though he'd probably say it's because he has other things in his mind, which wouldn't be wrong at all, but if there's something deeper than that he'd be none the wiser. blissfully unaware and all. " well, i wouldn't know. so... " the accusatory gesture does make him chuckle, sound that is cut off with her next statement. thomas CAN tell she's getting bolder with the questions now, somewhere in the back of his mind there's a voice saying he should put A STOP to that immediately and he knows, drunk and all, that it's true; that voice is right but... he drinks. the embarrassment pushes past the comfortable haze the booze provides and he HAS to look away, takes the time to think of something else. " never have i ever... gotten a tattoo. " that has to be innocent enough.

I'M DRUNK . defne realises it like a light's been turned on inside her . it makes her want to giggle but that'd be a VERY obvious sign that she's drunk . a foggy part within her wonders if thomas is drunk too . he seems slightly more chatty . more smiley . SHE WANTS TO KISS HIM . the feeling is unreal . it's a desire she's never had before , not this strong . she's staring at him and all she wants is to lean against him . she likes this moment with them . every moment with him really . it shines so bright . it leaves her feeling warm and fuzzy and SATED . defne's grin only gets bigger at how he endears her over the condom talk . her eyes flick down and over him , trying not to check him out as painfully obviously as she wants to . she's sure her tipsiness only makes it more clear than ever , but the alcohol thrums within her and ensures she doesn't feel it . not yet . that's a tomorrow problem . he looks both laidback and shy all at once . " so . . . what else do you like ? or not like ? " defne drags the words out , her tongue slightly heavier than usual , making her words sound flirtatious and suggestive and mortifying all at once . she doesn't care if he won't answer . she likes that she got this far .

defne laughs loud and hard , her eyes squeezing closed as she does . she can't imagine ever doing ANYTHING without thomas by her side . let alone TO thomas . she's not ready . she doesn't think so anyways . defne reopens her eyes , eyeing him up and down yet again but this time more discreetly . she tries not to linger on any part of him but it's hard when he's so strong and sturdy and BUILT . the clothes fit him well - it's not fair . " what did you usually cook for yourself ? " she asks . she can't quite picture a thomas in the kitchen . she wants to see it but can't just yet . mainly she only sees thomas she knows him . she'd love to know him in any other way as well , though . him in a kitchen . him with a car . him with her . " HMM " defne considers his question back to her . " anything with rice i could do a good job at . " she admits , and tries to ignore the way her stomach wants to grumble in desire . she misses warm rice , slivered almonds , meat falling off the bone and warm , thick sauces . she misses being in a kitchen . " middle eastern food was my thing. mansaf . tagine . " she smiles to herself , unable to stop the memories flicking through her brain like a picture book . " are you good with spicy food ? " defne asks , trying not to imagine a world in which she'd cook for him and they'd be in a kitchen together and it's NOT the end of the world .

THE WAY THOMAS LAUGHS . he has no idea . she's never met someone so frustratingly clueless , yet smart all at the same time . " you're humble . " she retorts , with a playful eyeroll . how can he not know the effect he has on people ? how he makes her feel ? NOT JUST HER , EITHER . it's so painfully obvious . " you're the kinda guy who never knew when a girl had a crush on you . " she's speaking from experience as she points her index finger at him . defne's eyes can't stop drinking in his every move . his hand on the glass . the way he sits . she wants to memorise him , paint him , sing and talk about him . it's such a lame crush that she even wants to cringe at herself . defne tries not to feel happy at the way he dismisses ghosting people . she wants to dig more and ask if he's a ONE NIGHT STAND GUY . but that's not quite part of the game . she doesn't care that it's not her turn . she picks up her glass again , body fully turned to him , leaning in slightly closer . " never have i ever . . . " ok the alcohol is VERY clearly working now . she pushes the envelope more . " had sex in public . "

[gent]

trying to convince my psychiatrist to not institutionalize me

[mossyflowers]

*gets possessed* okay anyways

[silverselfshippingchaos]

goodness I love him so much

[starkwlkr]

happy life, happy wife | hugh jackman

an: “you attract what you fear” GUYS IM SO SCARED OF A 55 YEAR OLD AUSTRALIAN 😭 definitely thinking about making marvel actress!reader x hugh an actual series… i have ideas

marvel actress!reader

Deadpool & Wolverine Press tour - Hot Ones

Hugh felt like he was going to die. Each wing was getting hotter and hotter, but immediately when he heard his wife’s name he forgot all about the spice.

“Hugh, your wife is part of the Avengers, how does it feel having your wife be part of such a huge franchise? Have you two talked about a potential team up with the X-men and the Avengers?” Sean asked.

“My wife . . . Oh god, I think I’m crying-”

“I can’t tell if you’re legitimately dying or completely in love with your wife.” Ryan told Hugh.

“Wait . . I am completely in love with my wife and I would legitimately die for her.” Hugh gasped as he rearranged Ryan’s words.

“Is that in the contract she made you sign when you married her? ‘I vow to die for you’. My contract said I had to give all my money to my kids and wife.” Ryan said.

“No, she’s amazing, um, if I start talking about her I think I might go on for hours,” he laughed. “Our kids do want to see their parents fighting the bad guys together. We would love to team up, maybe it could happen.” Hugh smiled.

“The entire movie would be them making out and her beating the shit out of you. I’d pay to see that.” Ryan added.

•••

Comic Con 2024

Like RDJ, your last Marvel movie had been Avengers: Endgame. After being in ten mcu films, it was time to say goodbye to your character.

But that was in 2019.

At this years comic con, you were back. The cast of Deadpool & Wolverine had taken the stage and showed their appreciation for the fans. After their panel, it was time to announce Marvel’s upcoming projects. Kevin Feige announced the Fantastic Four, Thunderbolts, Captain America 4, and finally the new Avengers movies, which everyone was extremely excited about.

After showing the title card for the upcoming Avengers film, Kevin turned to the audience.

“Something people have been asking, as of late, is who the heck is going to direct these two movies?” The audience clapped.

From the side of the stage, you were nervous. What if the fans didn’t like the idea of you directing the next two Avengers films? Your worrying caused Hugh to come to your rescue.

“Hey, they loved you as an Avenger, they will love you even more.” Hugh kissed your forehead. “If anyone says anything about this decision, they have me to deal with.”

You laughed at his words. “I really love you so much.”

“Love you too, bub.” Hugh was about to kiss you when Ryan cut in.

“I really love us too. I convinced half of the people here that we’re a throuple.” He said in the most serious tone ever.

Kevin announced you as the director. Your doubt of the fans not liking the announcement was proven wrong when you walked the stairs to the stage and stood next to Kevin. They cheered when they saw you were back.

As you said a few words, thanking Marvel, Kevin and the fans, you were being recorded by Hugh, who was being recorded by Ryan.

“That’s my wife!” Hugh cheered from backstage, holding his phone in his hand.

“She’s Marvel Jesus now, holy shit!”

•••

WIRED autocomplete interview

“Is Hugh Jackman married?”

“Yes, to me, Y/n, probably to half the population,” Ryan answered. “He’s Australia’s biggest slut.”

“All the times, I proposed.” Hugh laughed. “But yes, I am married and I love my wife very much. She’s stuck with me forever.” He lifted his hand to show off the wedding band.

“Funny, because she texted me right now. Her and Blake are in the courthouse getting married. So Deadpool three was actually made so our wives could divorce us and marry each other.”

[dcxdpdabbles]

Oh my god, you laid out freelance inventor perfectly for the justice league to mistake Danny for Batman, especially with John Jones already making his thoughts known that Bruce wayne would be the perfect himbo for Batman lol. Does the entire league pull together to make a beach day seem intentional and end up making so many mistaken assumptions along the way? Either way, I adore what you have going. I'm kinda curious if you had any thoughts on Damians' first reaction to meeting Danny? If not, that's okay. I just love the thought of Danny bonding with Damian in a feral way or through sparing like ghosts tend to in this fandom

The first time Danny meets Damian Wayne is when he comes to the Manor for a surprise visit. He usually would have called ahead or messaged Alfred, but it was a last-minute decision to stop by Gotham on his way to Metropolis.

Initially, Danny was going to a technology expo hosted by Lexcorp, but it was delayed due to a giant fight. A robot had flung Superman through the convention hall, causing severe damage.

Since he now had a weekend free while Lexcorp searched for a new venue, he figured he would spend it with his favorite one percent. Imagine his surprise when he noticed the first thing he noticed was that Bruce had a biological son, one he had told to stay hidden.

He had told his displaced son not to venture out of the manner because he didn't want the public to know about him. Danny hadn't felt this angry in a long, long time.

The glare he sent Bruce had the man flinching, causing Damian, fresh to the Manor and not used to seeing his Father as anything but commanding, to raise an impressed eyebrow. "Kids. Bed. Now. I want to talk to your Father."

"No." Bruce cowered. "Please stay, kids."

"Sorry Bruce, I actually have to touch up some photos for this month's photo op," Tim was quick to say, jumping from his seat.

"I also really need to get started on some paperwork for the gymnastic gym." Dick laughed nervously, dropping out of the handstand he was in. Danny never understood how the young man could randomly spring into flips and handstands.

Damian did not inch from his chair, though. He meets Danny's gaze with a cool upturn of his nose and crossed arms.

"You have no control over me or my actions, Harlot," Damian hissed, but a pale Dick and Tim pushed him out. Jason had been out on some far-off island trip with his friends- Roy, Kori, Artemis, and that delightful Bizzarro who spoke like it was an opposite day every day.

He was the only person to whom he would not talk to Damian. Everyone else would look Danny in the eye and justify why they would assume that a child should be treated as a secret was the correct thing to do.

"Well?" Danny asks when all Bruce does is sit there, hands on his lap and sweating. He narrows his eyes, crosses his arms, and watches the sweat drip down Bruce's head. "Explain yourself."

"Danny, I swear I wasn't aware of Damian. His mother told me she had a miscarriage. If I had known, I would have told you-" Bruce started but was cut off by Danny marching across the room and practically snaring into his face.

"That's not why you're in trouble, Bruce. Why are you treating a nine-year-old boy like a dirty secret?!"

"um..well, that's...you need to understand he's a bit unstable-"

"Choose your next words very carefully, Bruce." Danny cuts him off, recrossing his arms. Bruce swallows before he seems to gather unknown courage and straightens out his back.

"Danny, I don't think Damian needs to be a secret forever, but he needs to adjust before he can go out. He had a hard life with his birth mother and tends to lash out in violent outbursts. Just last week, he pushed Tim off the stairway!"

That's alarming. In fact, it isn't very good to think Tim would not be safe in the same household as Damian. They talk more about it, especially the part where Damian makes clear he wishes to replace Tim and would do nothing to remove him.

Damian is a threat to Tim's well-being. He mentions this to Bruce, who waves it way like a damn fool.

"Tim can handle it."

"Just because he can doesn't mean he should," Danny growls, throwing his arms into the air. "I can't talk to you right now. I can't even look at you."

"Danny, please-"

"Nope. I will tell Tim to stay with me, and I will make plans to take Damian out and about. If you treat someone like a criminal, they will act like one. I'm going to help that young boy settle here, but I will not do it at the expense of another. Don't call or message me." Danny growls, strutting out of the room only to practically run into Damian.

The boy raises his chin as if daring Danny to tell him off for eavesdropping. For one second, Danny is reminded of Jazz, back when she had been so insistent that she was an adult.

His eyes soften, and he knows Damian can see based on his surprise blink. "H kid have you had the chance to go into Gotham yet?"

"Why would I waste my time with the peasants? I am an elite warrior, destined to rule over them."

Huh. He reminds Danny a lot of Jazz now, with her anti-social tendencies- not that she refused to be around people, more like she refused to make friendships with people her age because she thought herself too mature for them- and a little of the battle-hungry ghosts in the Zone.

He can handle that.

"You are to be a general, right? Why are you acting like a common foot soldier?" He asks, watching the boy's entire demeanor freeze over. "A good ruler is not just combat strength. They can take command and can easily step among their fighters. How can you do that if you do not understand the common folk's way of thinking?"

Damian opened and closed his mouth before narrowing his eyes. "You mock me."

Danny shakes his head, falling to his knees so Damian won't need to strain his neck. He keeps the baby talk out of his voice but only barely. He gets the sense that like his sister, Damian would prefer to be treated like a mini adult. "Never. I'm genuinely interested in your thoughts, but you must know that all knowledge is power. Know thy enemy..."

"...as one knows thyself," Damian finishes his quote, looking vaguely intruded. He considers the offer before nodding. "I shall accompany you on your outing and gain valued observations of the average American child."

"Only after you apologize for attacking Tim and tell him to his face how you will not be doing that again," Danny warns, raising a finger at Damian's clouded face. "A good leader does not want insubordination. Attacking Tim did not prove anything but how unreliable you are and how much you fear Tim."

"I do not fear Drake!"

"Then why does his presence so threaten you? Bruce told me how out of all his kids, you seemed so sure you could take him in a fight but not a battle of wits."

Damian's eyes grow cold before he lashes out a hand. Danny catches it quickly, much to the boy's shock. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "Not bad, but not what a regular American child would behave. You would have been singled out as a spy the second you stepped in the street."

"....I shall work on my reaction and emotional regulation." Damian yanks his arm free, striding away but not before glancing back at Danny. "You are strange."

Danny smiles. "Thanks, kiddo."

The boy vanishes from sight, and Danny sighs. He must now find Tim and help him pack to stay with him. He also needs to yell at everyone in the Manor, including Alfred. Honestly, that man enables Bruce far too much.

[kazuhaiku]

love story

summary: kinich makes a surprise visit to fontaine and wants to spend the entire day with you, no excuses.

warnings: gender neutral reader, fluff, might be ooc kinich (it's just my interpretation on his personality as of now).

notes: silly little kinich fic as my first post >< reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)

“kinich!” you exclaim from the hunters’ guild, a huge smile on your face as you see him walking towards you, a nonchalant look on his face as usual. “hey! i didn’t know you were visiting fontaine. you should have told me!”

“it wouldn’t be a surprise if i tell now would it?” kinich replies, ajaw beside him nodding in agreement. “what are you doing in the hunters’ guild? did you receive a new commission?”

“mhm,” you hum in reply. “lumine and paimon are taking a day off so i’m taking over their commissions for today!” you hand him the list of commissions that are currently available to do and you swear you can see a faint glint of disappointment in his eyes when he sees how many commissions there are to do. “i’m-”

“let me help.” kinich abruptly cuts you off. “you’ll get this finished faster when i’m helping. i’m allowed to help, right?” his eyes flicker over to katheryne who is smiling amusingly. 

“yes of course, if that’s okay with y/n?” katheryne eyes you knowingly. despite katheryne being a robot, she has a clear understanding of the tension between you and kinich (a little too well, if you must say).

you clear your throat. “oh um- yeah of course you can help!” kinich smiles at your answer. he keeps the piece of paper containing the commission details inside his pocket.

“come on, no time to waste. we have lots of things to do today.” kinich exclaims almost excitedly, and you can’t help but wonder what plans he’s got for you today (because why else would he come all the way from natlan to fontaine?).

kinich indeed wasted no time because as soon as there was a fight, he jumped straight into it, killing the enemies almost instantly. before you know it, the commissions are all done hours before your predicted finish time.

kinich wipes the sweat away from his forehead, acting as if he didn’t just do all the commission for you. he turns around and gives you a big smile. “we’re done now, yeah? you’re finished with work?”

“um, yeah…” you stare at kinich as if he just ate a spider.

kinich tilts his head to the side. “what? why are you staring at me like that?”

“no it’s just,” you let out a small laugh, suddenly finding kinich’s actions a bit funny. “aren’t you acting a bit too… desperate?”

“d-desperate?” kinich stutters, a red hue filling his cheeks. “i don’t- i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

you raise your eyebrows. “really? so you did all my commissions in under ten minutes, used every single teleport waypoint instead of exploring the land like you always do, and made me watch you do the commissions instead of letting me help?”

kinich’s cheeks turn darker as you speak, and he immediately covers his face, as if his plan has been busted. “okay, you’re right. i’m… desperate.” he removes his hand from his face, pulling you into a tight hug. “i missed you so much, okay? my work lasted much longer than i had expected, and there was no time for me to write a letter to you.”

you can practically hear the pout in his voice. you gently pat his back, consoling him. “i missed you even more, kinich. how long has it been since we last met?”

“four weeks.” kinich says almost instantly.

you hum. kinich lets go of you, however, one of his hands is still holding one of yours tightly. he doesn’t say anything, and only focuses on caressing your hands, as if you are going to disappear when he lets go.

“kinich,” you call out, and his head whips up. “i’m not going anywhere.”

“i know, i’m sorry,” kinich sighs. “i had so many plans for us today but now i can’t even think of what we should do first.”

“well, considering i- we finish the list of commissions earlier than i had expected… why don’t we start from the top of the list?” you suggest. kinich’s eyes lit up, however, there is a glint of confusion behind it. “of course i know about the list. we’ve been dating for, what, four months now? i know you keep a list whenever we go out.”

kinich makes a sound of surprise and he lowers his head, slowly grabbing the piece of paper from his pocket. he hands it to you silently. “you know me too well, y/n.”

you smile, opening the paper. there aren’t many things on the paper, considering that he listed only five things; explore the court of fontaine, stop by the cafe there and have a nice little coffee date with y/n :), ride the aquabus (seems like fun), visit the opera epiclese, visit the chioriya boutique and gift y/n an outfit!

“wow…” you gasp in awe. “chioriya boutique? how’d you know i like her outfits?”

“remember the letter we last sent out to each other?” kinich asks and you nod. “well, you briefly mentioned her. how you love the outfits she makes and you made a little note on the side saying how you really want an outfit from her but you don’t have enough mora to buy one.”

“that- kinich that letter was probably sent a month ago! how do you still remember that?” you ask, surprised that he remembers the small detail.

kinich only smiles in response. “well, no time to explain. come on, let’s ride the aquabus! i’ve been dying to ride them ever since i got here.”

he pulls you and starts running, almost making you tumble. well, since he’s really excited, you can’t really complain. a happy kinich is a sight to behold.

[luveline]

Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3

ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k

“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 

“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 

“I understand, but–”

“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 

You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?

“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 

The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 

“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 

You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 

“Did you call them?” 

Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 

Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 

“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 

You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 

Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 

“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 

You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 

“We really don’t have time to waste.” 

“I know, but my blood sugar–”

She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”

“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”

“Clearly not!” 

“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 

The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 

You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 

If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.” 

Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 

“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 

He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 

He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 

“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.

“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 

He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 

In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 

You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 

“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 

“No,” you say apologetically. 

“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 

Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”

“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”

“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.

“How did you get so low?” he asks.

“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 

“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 

“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 

“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 

“Don’t know,” you mumble. 

Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 

He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 

You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 

By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 

You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 

“I understand.” 

You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.

He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 

“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 

He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 

“What do I get in return?” 

He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 

[ohbueckers]

YOUR SECRETS ARE SAFE WITH ME. she a good girl, for me she a slut.

ONE-SHOT! pairing, paige bueckers x reader. notes, march madness p has been heavy on my mind, like the EDITS and when this song was trending mmm so mayyybe you can expect some stuff. this is also her song idc idc. warnings, cheating, sexual content 〔 absolute filth i’m sorry. 〕

your heart stutters. you’re not ready for this. not with her eyes on you like they’ve always been—hungry and knowing. but there really is no avoiding it now. you’ve put it off for too long.

he’s already pushing himself off the bar, motioning for you to follow. you catch sight of paige from the corner of your eye—leaning against the far wall, her broad, all worked-out shoulders relaxed, fingers tapping against the neck of a half-empty beer bottle. she’s surrounded by her teammates, some friends, but it’s like none of them exist in her orbit.

she sees him before she sees you walking toward her, but once your boyfriend’s hand finds its place on the small of your back, her eyes lock on yours, and you could’ve sworn they flared darker. she looks like she’s been waiting all night, lips curling into that slow, lazy smirk—the one that knows exactly what you’re trying so hard to forget.

shit. you swallow thickly, feeling the heat crawl up your neck. you’re steps away now, too late to back out.

“yo, bueckers!” your boyfriend calls out as you approach, his hand squeezing your hip like a casual claim. he’s smiling like there’s nothing in the world wrong, like this is just a chance meeting with one of uconn’s basketball stars, particularly onehis girlfriend has been spending so much time with. he doesn’t know. he doesn’t have a clue.

he’s pure. too pure, and too fucking oblivious.

“what’s up?” her voice is calm, and you hear the smile in them as you avoid her gaze. she sounds way too happy. when you look up, you see it. it’s the same look she gave you hours ago, right before her hands had your legs shaking.

you try to stay steady, plastering a neutral smile on your face. “this is, uh… this is paige.” you clear your throat, hating how awkward you sound, but you can feel her sizing you up. “paige, this is, um—”

“nylan,” your boyfriend cuts in, extending his hand, all confidence. paige stares at it for a second, like she’s deciding whether or not to play nice, before finally gripping his hand. her grip is firm, controlled, but the look in her eyes tells a whole different story. azzi and kayla wave at you, and you wave back, silently wishing by the grace of God they’d come interrupt this conversation.

“the paige bueckers,” he laughs, pulling his hand back. “she’s always talking about how great you are, but i was starting to think she was hiding you or something.”

paige’s eyes move to yours, then back to him. “she says i’m great?” she leans forward just slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching. “that’s funny. she’s never mentioned you.”

your stomach drops at the lie, a cold sweat breaking across your skin as you throw her a sharp look, willing her to shut up. but paige just shrugs, like she’s enjoying watching you squirm. you’re glad nylan’s too pressed into the moment to notice.

“how’d y’all meet?” he asks, taking a sip of his drink, curiosity growing. “i mean, you never really told me,” he mumbles to you more than anyone else.

paige shifts her weight, tongue swiping across her bottom lip before she starts speaking. “we met at a party last semester.” she pauses, letting the words sink in as her eyes shift to you. again. “she was a good girl back then, real sweet.” you feel like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff.

your boyfriend laughs, slinging a tipsy arm around your neck.“yeah, she’s always been a good girl.”

paige’s crosses her arms over her chest, eyes boring into you, and it’s like they’re trying to make sure you haven’t forgotten. how could you?

earlier that evening …

the room is warm, and your initial visit to past some time before seeing your boyfriend had turned absolutely filthy. the scent of her sweat mixing with yours, your legs tangled in the sheets. paige’s fingers press into your stomach as she thrusts into you, lips pressed against your neck, her breath hot and heavy against your skin.

you were trying to keep quiet, but it was worth nothing. paige didn’t care. she was relentless, her hips grinding into yours, her hand sliding between your legs to rub circles over your swollen clit in order to get you off quicker. for the third time. the pleasure was too much, too intense, and you couldn’t help the moans that escaped you as she filled you over and over.

“fuck—paige—” you whimpered, gripping her biceps, manicured nails leaving crescent shaped indents in her skin. you try to push her away, hands pressing weakly at her chest, but paige isn’t having it. she furrows her eyebrows, lifting her body to hover over you as her grip tightens, keeping you pinned right where she wants.

“i can—t.” you try to remind her you’ve got somewhere to be—nylan waiting for you in just a couple of hours—but it’s useless. paige knows you. knows exactly what your body craves and how you can’t resist her, even when you want to. especially when you want to.

“sure you can,” she replies, easily able to make out your words. she thrusts into you again, deep and slow, and you catch sight of the veins in her hands—the way they bulge under her skin, tensed with the effort of holding you still. she’s holding one leg up now, hitting you at an angle. “i’m right there, ain’t i, baby? give me one more.”

your back arches off the bed as you nod, even when your body’s screaming that you can’t, a choked cry slipping from your lips before you can stop it, and paige’s lips curl into a smirk, her eyes dark as she watches you fall apart.

it’s too much—you’re so close, and she’s not letting up, not giving you a moment to breathe. “such a slut. take that shit.” she’s biting down on her bottom lip, eyebrows knitted together as she takes in the wetness between your legs. she swears she can feel you, past the vibrations coursing through her on her end.

you’re mumbling something, but you can’t even remember what it is—your mind’s too scattered, too fucked out to form any coherent thoughts. her thumb brushes over your bottom lip, almost teasingly, before slipping two fingers into your mouth. “suck,” she orders, and you do. without thinking, you’re sucking on her fingers like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. and even if you were thinking, you’d obey anyway. you’re sure you’d do anything she said, because before you met paige, you’d never once questioned your sexuality. never thought twice about how a girl could make you feel.

but paige? paige has made you feel things you’ve never felt with a man in your whole twenty-two years of life. nobody could fuck you this good. you’d said it before and you’d say it again.

she chuckles low, clearly satisfied, hips still moving against you. “my good girl. go ‘head and gimmie that,” she orders, clearly referring to your orgasm.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” before you know it, you’re coming hard—too hard—your entire body shaking. her blonde hair forms a curtain around her face, falling gracefully over her shoulders as she’s right there with you, quieter, but feeling it just as intensely.

you’re biting down on her fingers, moaning around them, as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you. paige pulls her fingers from your mouth, slipping them to your jaw, forcing you to look at her. “fuck, y’look so good like this,” she breathes, breathless, moving her digits between your legs to collect some of your slick, bringing it to her lips for a taste. “messy as hell.”

she finally collapses next to you, the bed shifting under her weight. you’re still catching your breath, chest heaving as you stare up at the ceiling, trying to ground yourself. after a moment, you roll your head to look at her. “p,” you start, your voice soft, a bit raspy. “if you meet him later… you can’t…” you trail off. “—tell him.”

paige lets out a chuckle, her head lolling to the side as she grins at you, like the thought had never crossed her mind. “you think i’m stupid?” she teases.

your eyes trail over her, letting out a small, relieved breath, your lips twitching into a smirk as she reaches out, gently brushing some of your disheveled hair out of your face. her touch is almost tender, a definite contrast to how she’d just wrecked you.

she leans in closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear as she murmurs, “i won’t tell, baby. y’secret safe with me.”

at the bar …

she’d kept her promise, precisely.

nylan presses a kiss to your temple, but you don’t feel the lingering wetness of it like you normally do. not when every inch of your skin still burns with the memory of paige’s touch.

paige stands there, staring at you with a smirk, still leaning against the wall like she’s done absolutely nothing wrong.

and maybe she hasn’t. because after all, she’s the only one who knows just how good you can be. not to mention how well you both can keep a secret, too.

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely I wanna start by saying how fricking talented are you, you are truly amazing. I LOVEEEE reading your works, they seem so so real and just so wonderful, I love them🫶🏻. So I went to the cinema tonight with my friend and I wore a pretty low-cut t shirt (is that how you say it? English is not my first language so idk if it the right word) and like the popcorn kept falling out of my hands and into the neckline (?) like between my bOobs (I don’t have big boobs so there is a lot of space down that lol). And idk I thought it would be so funny seeing how the marauders would react ahaha. So something along those lines would be great🫶🏻

Hi gorgeous, thank you for requesting!

cw: pg-13 behavior, the boys are a tad immature but it's silly

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 369 words

“Dove.” Remus’ tone is that idiosyncratic sweet spot between exasperated and entertained. “How do you always make such a mess?”

“I don’t mind,” says James, picking up a piece of popcorn from next to you on the couch. “She eats quick, but at least there’s always plenty left over.” 

You lift your thigh, half sheepish when it reveals three more kernels tucked between you and the cushion. “It’s not my fault,” you argue as James swipes them up. “You guys hog the popcorn over there, I have to take big handfuls or I’d be reaching across the whole time.” 

Remus gives you a dubious look. “You’d be just as bad if you had your own bowl.” 

“Jamie, you’re scavenging in the wrong place,” Sirius says, leaning around Remus to grin at you. “Didn’t you see where it was all going during the film?”

“Oh, I know, I was just saving the best for last.” James reaches into your top, pulling out a few kernels and pecking you on the cheek in thanks. It burns where his lips touched. 

“You guys are disgusting,” you say, fighting to keep from smiling. 

James tilts his head, crunching. “Why?” 

“Those were between my boobs! It’s like eating them off of me.” 

Sirius leans around Remus to raise a brow at you. “Um, I’d do that,” he says, “happily. Actually, James, I think you’re still using the wrong technique there. Let me show you.” 

Remus sighs as Sirius crawls over both of the other boys, making his way towards you. James steadies him with a hand on his back when he almost slips off the couch. Knowing Sirius, you really should be expecting it, but you still gasp when he hooks a finger in the neckline of your top, pulls it wide, and buries his head in your chest. 

Remus chuckles at your expression, and James asks, “Find anything?” 

“Yeah,” Sirius says from between your tits. You make a squeaky sound when you feel him lick briefly over your skin, and then he emerges, crunching satisfiedly on a piece of popcorn. “See? Told you.” 

You let your head fall back onto the couch cushions in defeat. Remus reaches over to pat the top consolingly.

[avis-writeshq]

Hi! Can I request track one? :)

Spencer Reid being so shy to ask Fem! Reader out so Morgan flirts with them to push him to do it?:(

pairing: early seasons!spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: friends to lovers warnings: not proof read :( a/n: thank you for requesting lovely <3 wc: 700

Spencer isn’t entirely sure why he’s so upset. He’s got his lips drawn to a pout and his eyes are set on the computer in front of him. He chalks it up to the fact that his contact lenses have been drying out. That must be it.

“Stare any harder and you’ll break the screen.”

You’re giggling at his unhappiness, but he doesn’t feel an ounce of annoyance. In moments you’re placing a steaming cup of tea onto his desk with a tiny pitcher of milk, before swiping a few of his files off his pile. 

“You don’t–”

“Hush, Spencer. You probably have filled more overtime hours in the past week than I have in the last four years. Let me take these off of you, okay?” You smile at him before leaning down to murmur into his ear, “They’re probably Morgan’s anyway, so don’t worry about it.”

Spencer flushes, his cheeks warming to a pretty pink at your closeness and he can smell your vanilla perfume. Every thought in his brain vanishes and he’s pretty sure that he won’t be able to think for the next hour or so. His mouth opens and closes like a broken hinge and you walk away to sit at your own desk. 

“When’s the wedding?” Derek asks through a snicker, reaching a hand out and ruffling Spencer’s already unkempt hair. 

“Wh– stop,” Spencer manages weakly, pushing his bangs out of the way and huffing. “Keep your voice down.”

“Didn’t you say that you wanted to ask her to see that Russian film festival or something?” Derek asks, unrelenting. He gestures to the two tickets poking out of one of Spencer’s book. “You already bought them?”

“I won them,” he corrects, scowling. “Stop laughing!”

“Dude, you have to ask her out,” Derek tries again. “Kid, I’m serious. A girl like that isn’t going to wait around forever.”

Spencer’s annoyance is quick to dissipate into flusteredness, and he avoids his friend’s gaze. “She shouldn’t have to.”

“Come on, don’t beat yourself up. Just go talk to her.”

His efforts are in vain as Spencer huffs again and turns back to his paperwork. Morgan shrugs, flexing his arms. It’s far too early to be dealing with Spencer’s shyness and pining. Morgan watches as he sneaks yet another look in your direction, and it takes a lot in him to not throw the two of you together. Emily keeps reminding him to be patient. Penelope keeps informing him that ‘they’ll get together in their own time’. Hotch would spare him a stern look. 

They’re not in the room, though.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

Morgan’s call out is enough for you to raise your head and for Spencer’s face to morph into look of genuine betrayal. He’s frantically moving his hand across his neck as a very obvious sign to cut it out. Morgan pays him no mind.

“What’s up?” You ask brightly, finishing your sentence before turning to look at him. “Did you need something?”

“You’re looking particularly gorgeous today, you know that?” Derek wears a lazy smirk as he looks at you up and down, and you only manage to laugh.

“Ha ha.” You roll your eyes, glancing briefly at Spencer who could have been mistaken for a cherry. “What are you playing at, Morgan?”

The man claps his hands together, rubbing his palms. “Are you free tomorrow night? I’ve got a bottle of wine that has our names on it.”

Spencer looks aghast. He recalls the information on the tickets he had won, and– tomorrow night. That’s when the film festival is happening. 

“She doesn’t drink,” Spencer butts in before you can respond, snatching the tickets from the inside of his book and getting up from his seat to make his way over to you. “I was um– I’ve got these tickets for a film festival tomorrow. It’s in Russian, but I can whisper the translations to you so you understand. You don’t– you don’t have to go. I know it might not be your thing–”

“I’d love to go, Spence.” You smile at him, plucking one of the tickets from his hands. “A whole evening with you? Who wouldn’t enjoy that? Sorry, Derek.”

Derek raises his hands in surrender, and when you aren’t looking, shoots Spencer a thumbs up. Penelope would be proud. 

reblogs are always appreciated !

events page

[cameronsprincess]

Formal request for blodemulletmustacheprettyteethandeyessexysouthernaccent!rafe x reader baby

blondemulletmustacheprettyteethandeyessexysouthernaccentrafe has me on my kneeeees. we’re imagining a scenario here that @oceandriveab put in my mind! seduce. the. tree. man.

CW: smut! 18+ only! blue collar!rafe, slutty!reader, protected sex (shocker!!), fingering, nipple play, sex with a stranger (don’t do that fr).

rafe masterlist | requests | taglist form

you’re sitting on your front porch, enjoying the weather outside when your phone loudly ringing from inside catches your attention.

sighing, you stand from the swing and make your way inside to see who’s calling. 

828-756-2798… you look over the number, not sure who it is, but you are expecting some workers to come by and deal with some trees in your yard, so you quickly answer.

“hello?”

“hi, is this y/n y/l/n?”

your body heats up at the sound of the deep, raspy southern accent at the other end of the line. you quickly shake the thoughts in your head and reply.

“yeah this is she, who’s this?”

you hear rustling from the other end before the man speaks again.

“my name’s rafe. rafe cameron. i’m calling about the trees you need cut down. i’m just letting you know i’ll be there in about an hour, my last job has run a little longer than expected.”

rafe cameron sounds sexy. you quickly squash the inappropriate thoughts about the man once more, clearing your throat as your thighs rub together.

“oh, yes, i forgot you’d be coming today,” not a total lie. “that’s perfectly fine, i’ll be home all day, just whenever you can get here is fine! thank you!”

“not a problem, darlin’, see you in an hour.”

he hangs up before you can say anything else. your mind begins reeling with inappropriate thoughts of the man who’d just called you. have you ever met him? is he as sexy as he sounds? fuck. you have serious problems, and you definitely need to get laid. and no, not by the man who’s coming to cut down some fucking trees for christ’s sake.

you shake your head, deciding you need to go inside and take a long, cold shower. hopefully it’ll help clear the thoughts running rampant through your mind.

—

an hour later, you’re sitting at the bar in your kitchen, glass of wine in hand— what? it’s five somewhere, right?— and scrolling through your phone when a knock sounds at your front door.

taking a quick sip of the wine, you set it on the counter and stand from your high top chair. you slowly approach the front door, running sweaty hands down the front of your tiny tank top before turning the knob and opening it. jesus fucking christ. you’re greeted by the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your life. tall— probably 6’2, 6’3 give or take— straight nose, sharp jaw with a slight stubble to it, a perfectly groomed mustache that looks like it’d feel amazing between your legs, messy dirty blond mullet that’s settled beneath a hat, and gorgeous fucking bright blue eyes. lets not even get started on his fucking arms, fuck.

“uh.. miss?”

the deep sound of his voice startles you, and you look up to meet those damn blue eyes. he has a slight hint of concern on his face, but it quickly fades as he smiles back at you. fuck. he’s the definition of perfection.

“oh sorry, long day,” you lie, you haven’t done shit all day. “um, so… do you know which trees need to be taken down or uh.. do i need to show you?”

he smiles that perfect fucking smile, letting out a small laugh as his head falls forward. “i remember which ones, miss. it’ll probably take me about two hours, give or take, then i’ll be out of your hair.”

you smile, but you’re internally wishing you could find an excuse to keep him around longer. you open your mouth a few times, trying and failing to speak. finally, you settle with, “sounds good, just let me know when you’re finished.”

he nods once and turns, making his way off your porch and getting to work.

—

you couldn’t help yourself. you’d shut the door and went back to your kitchen, trying to shove the deep, southern accent out of your mind, trying to forget that perfect fucking smile and those pretty blue eyes. but you couldn’t. so that’s how you ended up on your front porch, wine glass in hand as you zoned out on rafe, watching him work in your yard.

god if he didn’t look fucking edible. the way his arms flexed with each pull of the rope tied to the branches, the way his back muscles strained against the tight fabric of his baby blue work shirt, his denim jeans hugging his waist and ass perfectly… you couldn’t help but picture scenarios of him fucking you. bent over your front porch railing, in your bedroom, bathroom, in his work truck, anywhere. your mind wandered, imagining the most filthy fucking—

“all done, darlin’.”

fuck. when did he finish? how long has he been standing there?

your eyes focus on his face, and your entire body lights on fire when you catch those damn blue eyes scanning the length of your body. you didn’t leave much to the imagination in your tight tank top and tiny cotton shorts.

you stand, moving to reach a hand out for him to shake and go on his way, but the second his hand touches yours, tingles run up the length of your arm, traveling all the way to your already soaking wet and aching pussy. rafe notices your tense demeanor, and he smiles, tightening his hand on yours.

“you alright, darlin? you look a little… flushed.”

“it’s uh..” you pause, clearing your throat, “it’s the, the heat.. yeah. so.. all good?”

“all good” he drawls, giving you that panty dropping smile again.

you’re about to pull your hand away, but he tightens his hold, pulling your closer to him. you let out what can only be described as a squeak, a fucking squeak, what are you? a prepubescent girl?

“i saw the way you were eyein’ me, sweetheart.”

your face heats up, probably turning a bright shade of fucking red. way to be discreet. you definitely zoned out on him. fuck.

“i uh… i’m sorry.”

he chuckles. “no need to apologize, sweetheart. i’d be lyin’ if i said i didn’t have my eyes on you too.. you’re.. well you’re gorgeous.”

a moan slips from your lips at his compliment and you swear you wish the ground could swallow you whole. rafe’s eyes darken, flitting down to stare at your lips for a beat before they find yours again. you contemplate your next move very carefully.

stepping toward him, you place your free hand against his hard chest, digging your fingers into his shirt. his darkened over eyes stare down at you intently, flicking back and forth between your own eyes and your lips. you lift yourself up on your tiptoes, your lips so close to his you can feel each exhale he makes.

“do you wanna fuck me as badly as i wanna fuck you?”

you’re teasing him at best, but the guttural groan he releases has you flinching back. you gasp loudly when his lips crash against yours, swallowing every small whimper, gasp and moan you make.

he releases your hand, letting it flop down by your side. his large hands grip at your hips harshly, making their way to your ass and squeezing, hard. you whimper against his lips again and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth. he tastes like mint and fucking addiction. his hands squeeze at your ass again while his lips continue to devour you. he breaks the kiss only for a second, asking, “you wanna be fucked here, or inside, darlin’?”

you moan at the way his voice sounds, the question sending sparks of pleasure straight to your aching core. you lift your eyes to meet his intense blue ones, “h-here?” you say, but it comes out more as a question than a statement.

he chuckles, his lips pecking yours once more before he pushes you back. your brow furrows, a frown working its way onto your lips, but it’s quickly squashed when you watch him begin fumbling with his belt. he swiftly pulls it from the loops of his jeans, tossing it to the ground, the sound of the metal buckle clanking against your wooden porch has you flinching. are you really about to fuck the goddamn tree guy? fuck yes. he’s sexy, and it’s been months since you’ve fucked anyone.

you watch intently as he pops the button on his denim jeans, sliding the zipper down. he shoves the rough material down his legs, letting them pool around his boots. your eyes slowly trail down from his face to his erect cock that’s straining against his boxers. holy fuck. his dick is fucking huge from what you can see.

he smirks at you, his large hands gripping your shoulders and making you jump, ripping your eyes off his monster of a cock. “strip f’me darlin’” he drawls.

you quickly obey, pulling your tank top up and over your head, exposing your bare chest to him. he sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers moving to pinch at your hard nipples. he rolls the sensitive bud between his fingers, pinching and pulling at them before cupping and massaging your breasts.

“you got pretty tits, darlin’. real pretty.”

you blush, biting at your bottom lip as he continues to massage your tits, his fingers moving to stimulate your nipples every so often. he drops his hands to your hips, fingers pushing into the sides of your cotton shorts. he slowly pushes them down your legs, his dark blue eyes never leaving yours.

once he has them pushed down to your ankles, you lift your feet and step out of them, kicking them across your porch. thank god you bought a house in the middle of nowhere, this wouldn’t be so easy with nosy neighbors around.

you stand before him in nothing but a black lace thong, and your body heats up under rafe’s intense gaze. his eyes trail the length of your body over and over again, as if he’s trying to carve the image of you into his mind. he pulls his jeans back up his legs a bit, and you furrow your brow, confused. he pulls his wallet from the back left pocket, opening it and pulling out a condom. typical male. at least he’s prepared.

his jeans drop back to the ground and he rips the foil packet open with his teeth. pulling it free from the packet, he shoves his boxers down his thighs, and your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you see his long, thick, veiny cock. fuck. me. he’s fucking huge. you watch in awe as he slides the lubricated condom down his length, stepping toward you in slow strides.

he grips your hips, spinning your body around and pushing your front into the porches railing. your fingers tightly grip at it as you suck in breath after breath. this is stupid, right? you don’t even know him. but he is sexy… so it’s fine. right? you’ll never see him again. it’s fine, you’re fi-

all your thoughts come to a screeching halt when you feel the head of his cock pushing inside you. he hisses in a breath, his fingers digging into your sides harder. “fuck, darlin’… you’re so tight.”

he slowly pushes himself inside you, inch by inch until he’s completely buried inside you. his face falls, his mouth leaving sloppy kisses on your shoulder, teeth biting into your delicate skin. he stays completely still, allowing you to adjust to his size.

“p-please?” you whimper, turning your hips in a circular motion and feeling his cock twitch inside you just the slightest.

“please what, sweetheart? use your words.” he rasps.

“please.. please fuck me?” you say, but it comes out more as a question than anything.

his deep laughter fills the air, and your face heats up. you’re actually begging a man you just met to fuck you, pathetic? maybe. but you’re too horny to care.

he pulls his face from your neck, one hand wrapping in your hair and pulling while the other rests on your hip. “‘m gonna fuck you now, sweetheart.” is all he says before he slowly pulls out, slamming himself back in and pulling a low whine from you.

rafe’s hips set a quick pace, his thick cock brutally pounding into your weeping cunt. you wrap your fingers around the railing of your porch for stability, gripping at the wood so tightly your knuckles turn white.

“oh, g-god… rafe!” you moan breathlessly.

his hand on your hip tightens, his blunt nails biting into the soft flesh of your skin. he slows his thrusts, slowly pulling his cock from inside you, letting you feel every thick inch and every vein as he does. he slowly pushes himself back inside, your warm, tight walls squeezing at him.

“pussy’s squeezin’ me, baby. she’s so fuckin’ needy, yeah? such a dirty little whore f’me, lettin’ me fuck you on your front porch ‘n we only just met today.”

each word is punctuated with a painfully slow thrust of his hips, the swollen head of his cock abusing that spongey sweet spot deep inside your pussy.

your toes curl, fingers tightening around your porch railing so hard you’re scared you might bruise your fingers.

“rafe… please?” you beg, feeling that band inside your belly tightening, threatening to snap.

he lowers his face into your neck, inhaling the sweet smell of your perfume and sweat mixed. his lips kiss, lick and nip at your sweat slick skin, goosebumps spreading across your body. you’re so close..

“please what, darlin’? use your words f’me.”

“please… can i cum? please?”

a low growl is pulled from deep inside his chest, his hand wraps around your throat, pulling your face back so his lips can capture yours in a searing kiss.

“go on, cum f’me, make a mess on my cock, baby.” he mumbles against your lips.

the band snaps, your lips matching his pace. your body shakes underneath his as he continues to fuck himself inside you, never letting up as your euphoric high takes over your entire body.

“oh god… oh god, rafe! fuck!”

his thrusts begin to grow sloppy, low, raspy grunts falling from his lips before he buries his face in your neck once more. his teeth sink into your skin as he groans. “fuck, ‘m.. fuck ‘m coming.”

his cock twitches inside you, pushing himself deep inside one final time before he cums inside the condom.

his body twitches, his chest heaving as he slowly pulls himself from inside you. pulling off the condom, he disposes of it in the trash bin you have on your porch before slowly pulling his boxers and jeans back up his legs. he helps you get redressed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear and smiling.

“you’re fuckin’ amazing. think i could call you sometime and we do this again?”

i had not a clue how to end this, i’m so sorry this is probably shitty but i’ve worked on it off n on for what… 2 months i think? maybe just a month😭😂 love you kel, hope it’s okay babe!😭

rafe taglist: @oceandriveab @princessslutt @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @rafesthroatbaby @sturnioloshacker @starkeysprincess @rafeyscurtainbangs @atorturedpoetx @redhead1180 @jjsmarijuana @romaescapes @kisses4angel @maybankslover @bellbottombaby @rafesgiirl @urbimom @antagonize-me-motherfucker @araminsstuff075 @araminsstufff @chaneydoll @bi-zowee @princesssuki21 @zrm004 @ijustwanttoreadlols @baennied @hyperfixationgirl @justheretoreadthestories @chiaraanatra @chimindity @juniebugg @unsaidjaelinrose @momoewn @spid6y @wearemadeofstardust0 @vallovesyou @daydreamrafe @mattyskies @fallrafwe @cherriespopsicle @rafeglazer @nattywattyy @st6rrrs

[starkwlkr]

mum said no | lewis hamilton

an: i love hot ones <3 that’s all

After canceling many times, Lewis finally made his appearance on Hot Ones with Sean Evans. He was a big fan of the show so he was happy to finally get to be a guest. Not only was he a big fan, but so was his eleven year old daughter, Maeve, so naturally she accompanied him to the set.

Maeve Hamilton watched as her dad ate spicy wings and answered questions. When talking about Roscoe, Maeve payed close attention. She loved talking about Roscoe so much.

On the monitor, a picture of Roscoe and Maeve appeared. Maeve was wearing a black Lewis shirt that her mum had bought from an Etsy store while Roscoe licked her face. It was the British Grand Prix and Maeve, along with her sisters, was beyond excited.

“Look, Mavy, that’s you and Roscoe!” Lewis pointed to the screen. “That was taken last year. Do you remember?” Lewis asked his daughter.

Maeve looked at the picture and nodded. “Angela took it!”

“Is your family always at the races?” Sean asked.

“Most of the time during the summer, yeah. It’s always a great time when they’re in the garage, but when it’s school time, they stay home with their mum.” Lewis explained. “They don’t like that at all. But I always tell them education comes first.”

“But I get lots of good grades.” Maeve cut in.

“What’s your favorite subject?” Sean asked the girl.

“I like science.” Replied Maeve.

As the show went on, Maeve was seated next to the camera crew, laughing at her father. He was now taking bigger bites.

“You can do it!” Maeve cheered on.

“Thank you, baby. Love you.” Lewis chuckled and blew a kiss to the girl. “I can always count on my girls to cheer me on.”

“On the topic of family, is it possible that Formula One could get another Hamilton on the track? Or do they want to go into other careers?” Sean asked.

“At one point, they did say they wanted to, but now they’re discovering more careers that they’re interested in. I will support them in whatever choice they make.”

You and Lewis both knew that your daughters would never be Formula one drivers. You both talked about how hard it would be on them. He saw how fans were tough on Mick. He didn’t want his girls to go through that.

The wings got spicier and all Maeve could do was laugh at the faces Lewis was making. He drank milk but that barely helped. Tears were starting to come out his eyes. Maeve noticed and quickly went to her father’s side and used a clean napkin to clean the tears since she didn’t want him using his own hands that were covered in sauce.

“Thank you, baby.” Lewis said as Maeve cleaned up the tears.

“What kind of reaction do you get when somone pulls up alongside of you and then sees that it’s, you know, Lewis Hamilton behind the wheel next to them?” Sean questioned.

“Most people are just like ‘Holy Shit!’ um. . .” Lewis chuckled.

“They’re not revving their engine at you or anything?”

“I’ve had people, yeah traffic light that wanna race yeah.” He nodded. “Definitely when I was young, I felt like yeah. . . smoke this fool.” He laughed.

“This man wanted to race you yesterday!” Maeve spoke up. “Mum said no.”

“I got kids now!” Lewis laughed once again. “I got precious cargo, I can’t be fooling around.”

“And mum said no.” Maeve whispered to him.

“Yup, and mum said no.”