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ferrstappen · 18 days ago

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I’m going home, to my little daughter l dad! Max Verstappen imagine

A/n: a little late, but a little Father’s Day piece for Max 💘 it’s a bit all over the place but I really wanted to write something.

summary: Max doesn’t know what’s waiting for him back home.

The race had just ended, and the sound of cheers still echoed through the television speakers. Max’s Red Bull had crossed the line in second place. Montreal had been tough, with strategy and pit stops, but he’d done what he always did: fought until the end.

You adjusted Lia in your arms, her soft baby breaths tickling your collarbone as her chubby hand clung to your shirt. She was getting heavy, but you didn’t dare move her. She’d only just fallen asleep after the cooldown lap.

The twins had brought home their Father’s Day projects from school. Happy Father’s Day, Papa! was scribbled in Mila’s careful handwriting, while Luca’s contribution was mostly cars, stars, and a scribbled heart that somehow resembled a tire. Mila complained that the teacher made them work together since, well obviously, had the same dad, limiting her “creative freedom”, that was exactly what she told her teacher.

You were sitting on the couch now, warm with the baby’s weight, your phone already open to FaceTime. The race broadcast switched to post-race interviews, and you turned the volume down. Your heart was already somewhere else, 5,000 kilometers away, with Max. You missed being there waiting for him, leaving a kiss on his helmet for good luck, but your daydream was interrupted when the call connected after a couple of rings.

“Hey,” Max’s voice came through, slightly crackly from the paddock noise but unmistakably soft.

You smiled. “Hi, daddy.”

He was still in his race suit, blond hair a mess under the cap, a bit of sweat clinging to his brow, but his eyes? They lit up the second he saw you and the bundle of blankets resting against you.

“Is she asleep?”

“She fought it,” you whispered, brushing Lia’s soft hair, “but yeah, went out like a light after Lando’s crash.”

He laughed. “My girl’s got taste.”

“She only fussed once, when you got overtaken.”

“Smart baby. I’ll have a talk with the car, she can’t be bothered by that.” Max joked, his blue eyes twinkling with that side of him reserved for his family.

You both smiled, the kind that lives in the quiet space between exhaustion and love. Max looked at you for a moment longer, his expression tender and achingly proud.

“I’ve missed her, I’ve missed all of you.” he said softly.

“I know,” you said, equally soft. “But she watched you. We all did.”

Just then, Mila and Luca ran into frame, holding their signs again, breathless with excitement.

“PAPA!”

“You were SO fast!”

“We cheered for you the entire race!”

“Happy Father’s Day!”

Max laughed, his head tilting back as he took them in, and you watched the way his face changed, tired but glowing.

“Thank you. The signs… are amazing.” Max said shaking his head slightly with a smile.

“We’re saving the cake for when you’re back!” Mila added.

“Only one slice,” Luca warned. “Mama said no sugar after bedtime.”

Max winked. “Rules are different on race weekends. I’ll be home tomorrow.”

You watched them chatter back and forth until a voice called for Max off-camera, someone from media, reminding him about interviews and the press pen.

“I gotta go,” he said, and then looked at you one last time. “Give them all kiss for me?”

You nodded. “Always.”

And then he was gone from your phone screen.

You tucked the phone beside you and kissed your daughter’s cheek, whispering, “Papa loves you,” just as her fist opened briefly in sleep.

The broadcast shifted again, now showing Max being asked about his plans for the F1 movie premiere in New York, making you sit up slightly, curious, not remembering Max mentioning a premiere.

He paused at the question. Then, without missing a beat, gave the same smile you’d just seen minutes ago.

“I’m going home,” he said, voice calm, warm. “To my little daughter.”

And in that moment, it didn’t matter if he’d won or lost; he’d already won everything that mattered, his perfect family, and that was the only thing on his mind while flying back to Monaco.

Max always loved returning home. Even after the wins. Even after the podiums, the cheers, the champagne, nothing ever came close to the click of his front door in Monaco and the silence that greeted him. The silence of home. It wasn’t really quiet, not in the way the outside world would define it, but to Max, the laughter in the hallway, the shuffle of small feet, even the hum of the dishwasher was peace. His quiet.

He rolled the suitcase in slowly, careful not to wake anyone. It was past ten, and he figured the twins would be asleep by now, maybe you’d stayed up for him, maybe not. You had Lia, and four-month-olds didn’t really believe in full nights of sleep. Max wouldn’t blame you if you’d already collapsed into bed or right next to her crib.

The hallway was dim, the soft yellow of the entryway light casting a gentle glow, until something burst above him, a soft explosion followed by a cascade of blue and silver balloons falling from the high ceiling of the penthouse.

Max froze, startled. Then came the roar of footsteps, the unmistakable sound of Mila’s high-pitched squeal and Luca’s fuzzy socks rapidly approaching.

“PAPA!” The twins yelled at the same time.

Max barely had time to drop his bag before they slammed into him from both sides, their small arms wrapping around his middle, asking to be lifted.

“You thought we forgot!” Mila declared triumphantly, clapping her hands.

“Did we surprise you? Did it work?” Luca asked, slightly out of breath, eyes glowing hoping Max was surprised.

Max blinked, then laughed. “I’m… definitely surprised.”

You appeared a second later, barefoot, hair tied up in the way that always made his heart flutter. Lia was in your arms, blinking blearily at the light, clearly pulled from her nap but too calm to make a fuss.

“Happy Father’s Day,” you said, voice soft but warm.

Max reached out, resting his hand on Lia’s back, pulling you gently in so all five of you Verstappen were pressed together in the entryway.

“You really didn’t have to…” he started, but you interrupted him.

“Shh,” you whispered, eyes crinkling. “You say that every year, and every year we ignore you.”

The living room was filled with decorations. Handmade banners, more balloons, a giant card the twins had drawn together. One side read WE LOVE PAPA and the other had a drawing of Max with what he assumed was supposed to be a steering wheel, there was a plate with beef carpaccio and tomato soup, and a photo of the five of you framed on the mantle, from Lia’s first month, all of you lying on the couch in a sleepy pile not paying attention to Victoria who managed to take the picture.

Max let out a slow breath, soaking it all in.

“I really thought Father’s Day was over,” he admitted. “Being away, missing most of the day. I just figured…” He trailed off.

“You figured wrong,” you said, leaning in to kiss his jaw. “We waited for you, the real celebration starts now. We Verstappens make our own rules, you know?”

Mila tugged his sleeve. “We saved the cake, and Luca didn’t even lick it.”

“I didn’t!” Luca added proudly.

Max grinned and crouched, pulling both twins close. “Best team in the world.”

You handed him Lia, who immediately nuzzled into his chest, her sleepy weight melting into him like she belonged there, like this was her favorite place on Earth.

“Hey, meisje,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “Papa’s home.”

The kids dragged him to the couch, demanding a story from the race, a bite of cake, and answers to why he didn’t win in Canada. You curled up beside him, legs folded under you, one hand resting on his thigh as Lia dozed between you both.

And somewhere between Luca’s proud explanation of tire degradation and Mila feeding him cake with too much frosting, Max looked around and felt something tighten in his chest, the good kind, the kind that reminded him he was living exactly the life he’d dreamed of.

He didn’t need a trophy to tell him he’d already won everything there was to win, especially as the Verstappen household became quiet.

Well, maybe not quite, not entirely; there was the low hum of the monitor on your nightstand, the one that occasionally crackled with Lia’s soft breathing. Mila had whispered “Happy Father’s Day again” while half-asleep when Max tucked her in. Luca made him promise to make pancakes in the morning.

The hallway still smelled faintly like chocolate cake and baby powder. A strange but familiar combination these days.

Max exhaled deeply as he sank into bed beside you, fresh out of the shower. His hair was damp and his skin warm. He smelled like your favorite body wash, the one he pretended not to use, but always reached for when he missed home a little more than usual.

He didn’t say anything at first, just allowed you to settle on the bed with him.

You were lying on your side facing him, head propped on your hand, eyes already soft.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” he said, voice low, hoarse from the long day.

You hummed. “I know.”

“But you did.”

You reached out and touched his chest lightly, fingers brushing over the fabric of the old Red Bull t-shirt he’d pulled on. It was faded, soft from years of wear. One of the first ones he ever gave you, back when you used to steal them from his apartment.

“You always make the day special for me,” you whispered. “I just wanted you to have something, even if it’s a bit delayed. It’s our thing, you know?”

Max’s hand found your waist under the covers, and he slid closer, forehead brushing against yours.

“I don’t need the decorations or the cake,” he murmured. “It’s this. It’s coming home to you. It’s knowing they waited,” his voice dipped as he closed his eyes briefly, “that Lia is here. That Mila and Luca still want to tackle me the second I walk through the door.”

You smiled against his mouth as he kissed you, slowly and familiar, the kind of kiss that said thank you, I missed you, you’re my home, I love you, all at once.

“I saw the clip,” you said after a moment. “The movie premiere thing. That quote.”

He groaned lightly into your shoulder. “You did?”

You nodded, grinning. “I replayed it five times.”

“I didn’t mean to say it like that. They caught me off guard. I just thought of her. Thought of all of you.”

“It was perfect. I was ready to give you another baby right when you arrived.” You giggled.

Max raised his eyebrows suggestively before laughing with you, rolling onto his back and pulled you with him until you were half on his chest, your hand splayed over his heart. You listened to it beat, steady and strong beneath your palm.

“I used to think I’d want to be everywhere,” he said quietly. “All the races, all the events. All the noise, but now?”

“Now?”

“I just want to get through the weekend… and come back to this. To you, the kids, the cats… and yeah, the dog.”

You blinked slowly, your heart swelling as you pressed your lips to his collarbone. “You have it,” you whispered.

His hand slid up your back. “Yeah, I really do.”

The baby monitor gave a soft sigh of static. Lia stirred once, then settled.

Max closed his eyes, letting the silence wrap around him, letting the weight of you against him pull him deeper into the stillness of home.

It wasn’t loud, but it was real.

And it was everything he ever dreamed of.

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gofordistributors · 2 years ago

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jarofstyles · 1 month ago

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uni enemies to lovers + overwhelmed, guilty, and longing <3

Oh absolutely, let me hop on that. Also I’m using American Football when I’m referring to it! This got looooong sorry. I may continue it at some point!

Check out our Patreon (sign up using your browser to save $$$)

Warnings- some angst, slight asshole Harry, destruction of property, mention of money trouble, anxiety, overstimulation (not the fun kind)

He’d fucked up and he knew it.

As much as he wanted to pass blame onto her, as much as he wanted to say she was being overly sensitive, Harry had been a real fucking dick and he knew it. He’d gone too far this time and he had to fix it.

Y/N was a little prissy and it had escalated. In all honesty, the leader of the photography club had always been said to be a ‘sweetheart once you got to know her’ but he had never in his life found someone who was so unbelievably hard to get to know.

Harry didn’t have a problem with confidence. He was on the football team, nearly promised to be a draft pick, he’d always been outgoing and had no problems with approaching people. When he’d seen Y/N in the kitchen after hearing Niall sing her praises, he had been on her quickly, asking about her photography, complimenting her outfit. She was a cute little thing, quiet, but he hadn’t minded. Or he hadn’t, until she slipped away and basically ghosted him.

Since then he had messed with her. Usually lighthearted stuff, in his opinion, but it had only been a matter of time until it had gone too far.

—-

It had been dumb, if he thought about it. Really stupid if he thought about it harder. Tossing a ball at a girl who didn’t seem to have the best reflexes and was only there to take photos for an assignment wasn’t a smart idea, but having her so close… it had felt like a prime opportunity.

“Y/N! Go long!” Harry called out to the girl as she walked the field. In hindsight, it was stupid. A dumb way to get her attention, to tease her, embarrass her a little and make her scowl at him- but he didn’t anticipate it happening. The spiraling ball he had thrown to miss her by a few inches knocking into her camera, knocking it out of her hand and watching it shatter onto the track. The lens popping out, the sound of crunching plastic, pieces scattering a few feet away from her her as there was silence on the field.

He hadn’t meant to. Honest to god, that had never, ever been his intention. He had wanted to spook her and make her jump, get a cute little squeak from her- but he felt his entire heart drop out of his ass and a sickly cold to hot feeling rinse through him as he clasped a hand over his mouth.

“Dude- what the fuck?” Niall called out from next to Y/N. He’d gotten there fast from the bleachers where he had been writing on a notepad. Harry could feel people looking at him. For the first time in judgement, nit a good way, confused as to why he had just ruined someone’s camera. Someone’s very expensive, very valuable camera.

“Styles, the fuck was that for?” Adam asked with a shocked face, taking his helmet off. “That was fucked up. You’ve been messing with her because you’ve got some fucked up crush but this isn’t a playground. You don’t treat the girls you like like shit to get their attention.” He shook his head. “Go help her. Stop this shit.”

That wasn’t what he was doing. Was it? He hadn’t thought about it that way, surely not trying to do anything like that, but he couldn’t help the sinking feeling as he ran over to her that maybe that had been exactly what he was doing. Harry had never considered himself to be bad to women. Cocky? Sometimes. A bit of a slut? Sure, depended on who you asked and what their idea of sexuality was. But mean? Nasty? No. So to have done something like that, even by accident, he felt like shit.

“I’m so sorr-“ he didn’t even get the full sentence out before she interrupted him. She didn’t even look up, looking at the remnants of her camera on the ground. There as no way of fixing that.

“I don’t know what I’ve done to make you do what you do to me.” Her voice was watery as she wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “I’ve tried to stay out of your way and you keep finding me. I skipped lunch for 3 months, worked for 5 to afford that camera. And now you’ve ruined the one thing that I have to my name besides my shitty car and shitty laptop.”

And god, if that wasn’t a shot to the chest. Harry knew she was on scholarship and didn’t think much of it, but he hadn’t realized she wasn’t able to afford much. Let alone that it had taken her that long to get that camera. The universe was truly handing him his own ass today.

“Y/N, I swear I didn’t mean to-“

“But you did.” She whispered, the energy seemingly zapped out of her as she got down to gather what she could and placed it in Niall’s open tote bag. “This is why I asked to be taken off this assignment. I knew you’d find a way to ruin it, but I didn’t expect you to do this.”

Harry hadn’t expected it either. He wanted to vomit, really, because this wasn’t at all what he wanted to happen. He hadn’t been sure what it was he wanted, but he could confirm now this was the last thing. “I’m sorry.” The words escaped him. What else could he say? It wouldn’t take it back. Words wouldn’t put her camera back together.

“I’ve avoided you at every turn.” Her voice was more nasally and he knew it was because another bout of tears was starting. “You can’t stand that someone doesn’t worship the ground you walk on. I was trying to give you a chance, that first day. I was trying to see past the rumors of you being a fuckboy, of you being an arrogant son of a bitch, but they were right. And I want you to stay far the fuck away from me.”

—-

Harry felt heavy. The entire practice he had been off, he had been in his head to the point he was dismissed early. His own eyes burned as he took a shower, thinking about what he had done. Of course he was confident, but underneath it all he was sensitive too. Very sensitive. The image of Y/N walking away with her head low and Niall’s arm around her had haunted him.

Of course he had a crush on her.

Y/N was brilliant. Probably one of the smartest people he’d seen, and she was witty too- when you heard her. She was talented beyond belief, the photos she had published in the school paper having blown him away. When he lurked on her photography instagram, he had been even more impressed for the eye she had. Not to mention she was beautiful but that was obvious. Sparkling eyes and pretty lips, the slope of her nose, her cheeks, the curve of her neck- everything about her was pretty.

Being in denial for so long had been embarrassing to realize, because he had found every opportunity to get close to her. Not because he wanted to torture her but because he wanted to be near her. He wanted her to talk, unlike the first night they’d when she had awkwardly excused herself from their slightly one sided conversation and essentially ghosted him while he’d waited in the kitchen for her to never return back. She’d left right after that. His ego had been bruised a little but even more so, he felt rejection. A rare thing for him, but maybe he had needed a little slice of humble pie.

He knew she wasn’t going to want to talk to her, but with a brand new DSLR kit in his hand- Niall had hesitantly told him the model she used and he got the same one with extra lenses and memory cards and a battery charger, along with a travel bag- he knocked at her door anyway. It was going to eat him alive if he didn’t get to explain.

She had opened the door and immediately went to close it, but his foot caught it. “Listen- I’ll fuck off in a bit, I promise. If you want me to leave, I will, but I need to tell you that I swear to god, I didn’t mean to break your camera.” Her face was a little puffy and flushed from crying and he felt that guilt crawl up his esophagus for knowing he had been the one to cause it. The one time he had gotten a smile from her had felt like a lottery win, but he’d done the opposite now. Felt like he had gone bankrupt.

When she didn’t say anything and stood with her arms crossed, he took that as his cue. “I was an asshole. I’m an asshole because I think I’ve been upset internally that you didn’t like me when we met and I thought it was personal when you left that first night and I’d thought you were so cute and I’d heard a lot about you. I felt rejected but I still wanted you to pay attention to me and I went about it the complete wrong way.” His hands fiddled with the bag behind his back, anxiety making them want to sake.

“I realize that you’re shy, and I’m a lot. I’ve been messing with you because I want a reaction, it’s the only time you give me attention and… fuck.” He tipped his head back, running a stressed hand through his hair. “I deserve you to report me, or to not talk to me ever again and I know that. I’m sorry. I’m just trying to tell you that you didn’t do anything wrong.” He kept his stance in the doorway, throat thick. It was hard to talk, seeing her swollen, teary eyes. “It was pointed out to me that I treated you like that because I’ve got some sort of crush on you and I just wanted you to pay attention to me. As shitty as it is, I’m not used to people ignoring me and it’s…” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “It’s hard when the one person you want attention from is nice to everyone else at first and seems to want nothing to do with you. And it was wrong, I went about it entirely too childish and I was mean- god, fuck, I was so mean to you. I didn’t mean to, and I’ll never be able to tell you how sorry I am. You are a great person and I have a lot of shit I need to learn, apparently.”

That was an understatement.

“Harry…” The girl sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “I never was ‘rejecting’ you. I was overwhelmed. You’re right, you’re a bit full on and I was already extremely anxious being at a house party. It was loud and hot, people kept brushing up against me… and then you came along. I knew who you were, I always thought you were cute- and yeah, you were cocky and I got a little nervous because you made me feel giddy so I left, I panicked. It wasn’t… I was going to talk to you again eventually to explain I felt overstimulated. I don’t think you know how overwhelming you are.” It wasn’t said in a mean tone, rather exhausted and that made him shift on his feet.

“It’s unacceptable to be mean to someone because you want their attention. That doesn’t work for me at all. You’d been really sweet that first night even if you were a little arrogant, you seemed interested in my photos and then you… I don’t know. You seemed to always hit some of my insecurities. Maybe it was teasing for you but it hurt my feelings.” The admission was quiet, almost like she was embarrassed for it.

If anything he wanted to tell her he should be the one embarrassed about it. The immature behavior… it wasn’t acceptable. At all. But knowing he had blown it because his ego had been fragile was a blow to the heart. He had let his insecurities get ahead of himself.

“I assumed because you were quiet and you left that you didn’t like me. That you were a little prissy. Everyone said otherwise though, and I felt crazy.” He admitted, taking a step closer as someone walked down the hall. “I don’t know your insecurities- at least I didn’t think I did. And I’m sorry that I hurt you. I don’t know fully what my intentions were other than getting you to respond t’me, but I want to try and make up for what I can.” He would do whatever he could.

“I’m not that guy, Y/N. I don’t know what I was doing. I take accountability for the stuff I did because it’s wrong and it hurt you. I know it did. But I don’t want to be that guy. You don’t have to forgive me, but I’d like a chance to show you I’m not like that. Without… the arrogance.” He swallowed, pulling the bag in front of him. “I know you’ll try and deny this but I got you the same model. It’s got extra lenses, chargers, I asked for the best accessory package. It’s part of your major and you saved up…. I couldn’t let you go without because I was an idiot.”

It took up a chunk of the money he’d been saving but he didn’t care. She deserved it.

Y/N’s lips pushed as she looked at the bag, pulling the box out and looking at it with teary eyes, taking a shaky inhale before putting it back into the bag. “That’s like, a couple grand.” She spoke, narrowing her eyes. “I… this isn’t a bribe, is it?”

“No!” He exclaimed. “No, no. Even if you say no to letting me get to know you, make it up to you, that’s yours. You can report me, like I said. You can file a complaint with my coach.” He hoped he wouldn’t but he would probably deserve it. “I just.. I couldn’t let you go without it, not because of me.”

Y/N picked at the hem of her sweater, nodding. “Okay. I’ll think about it. I would say thank you for the camera but you broke it, so…” she shrugged, making him want to laugh. She had a point.

“Okay. You know where to find me if you want to.” He pushed off her doorframe, placing his hands in his pockets. “I really meant everything I said, but you don’t have to forgive me yet. I’ll make it up to you.”

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uncuredturkeybacon · 3 months ago

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𝚙𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚞𝚖 || 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

in which the checkered flag isn't the only thing you're chasing

the vegas strip is glowing like a live wire. neon buzzes in the air as helicopters hum overhead, and the roar of engines bounces between high-rises like thunder in a canyon. it’s chaos, but you’re calm. you always are before a race—head down, focused, no distractions.

being the only woman on the formula one grid is something you carry with quiet pride. it comes with expectations, judgments, noise. but you’ve learned to block it all out. when the helmet goes on, it’s just you and the machine.

until today.

“hey,” your pr manager says, sidling up beside you while you lean against your mclaren garage wall. “we’ve got a guest coming through. big name. be nice.”

you squint. “how big?”

she smirks. “paige bueckers big.”

that gets your attention.

you turn just in time to see her being ushered through the paddock entrance. she’s tall—taller than you expected—with long legs, an easy stride, and a confidence that isn’t loud, but steady. she’s wearing a knitted see through top that had blue on it, not quite papaya but… it looks good on her. really good.

she spots you and smiles, and you don’t know why your pulse picks up. probably the heat. the adrenaline. the usual.

you meet her halfway. “didn’t expect to see you on my turf.”

she grins, holding out a hand. “wanted to see what the hype was about.”

her grip is firm, warm. you hold on a second longer than you should.

“you’re welcome to the garage,” you say, stepping back. “but fair warning—it’s loud, chaotic, and smells like burnt rubber.”

“sounds like a good time,” she shoots back, falling into step beside you.

you give her a full tour—let her sit in your car, explain your steering wheel (which has more buttons than a spaceship), and show her how the pit wall strategies work. she listens, actually listens, eyes wide with curiosity, asking smart questions that make you grin.

“you know,” she says, pulling her hair into a quick ponytail, “if i wasn’t already a full-time hooper, i might’ve given this a shot.”

you chuckle. “you’d probably beat me off the line.”

you don’t realize how close you’re standing until your arm brushes hers. she doesn’t move away. neither do you.

you don’t post the photo. she does.

it’s a candid, taken by your pr girl—paige in your garage, sitting on a stool with your helmet in her lap. you’re leaning down next to her, laughing at something she’s said, mouth open, eyes soft. you didn’t even know she took it.

her caption: “track tour guide. 10/10.”

and that’s all it takes.

twitter goes off:

@/womensportsdaily: paige bueckers just casually being besties with the only woman on the f1 grid??? this crossover is elite.

@/formulagays: y/n hasn’t smiled like that since she won silverstone last year. paige what did you do???

@/uconnsfinest: i’m watching the las vegas gp now just to see paige in the garage. she’s glowing.

and the tiktoks start.

montages of you and her during the garage tour. slow zoom-ins on the photo she posted. voiceovers of people whispering “oh my god, they were roommates” over clips of you glancing at each other.

the sound of your laugh. the way her hand lingered on your arm.

people notice.

weeks later you’re spotted sitting court side at a uconn game, mclaren bomber on, hands clasped between your knees. you’re trying to stay subtle, but paige keeps looking your way from the bench.

when she hits a step-back three in the third quarter, she doesn’t look at the crowd. she looks at you.

your smirk gives you away.

the camera catches it. and the internet? loses its mind.

@/womenshoopupdates: wait… is that y/n court side at uconn??? in the paige bueckers jersey???

@/vroomvroomupdates: when your gf wins the race then pulls up to your game like that. power couple energy.

@/justsportsedits: [tiktok edit] — “golden hour” by jvke playing over clips of paige scoring while the camera pans to you in the crowd. caption: “she’s not watching the game, she’s watching her.”

it becomes a thing.

you're spotted together more often. coffee shops in new york. a lakers game, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder. she wears your hoodie in an ig story. you repost it with a simple orange heart.

still, no confirmation. no denial. just… smiles and soft looks and lingering hands.

in between the flashes of public life, there’s the quiet stuff.

late-night calls where she reads you parts of a book she’s into, and your eyelids flutter shut to the sound of her voice. your hand on her knee during a long car ride, her thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin.

she teases you about how serious you get during race weekends, calling you “captain focus” and stealing your hats. you pretend to be annoyed, but when she falls asleep on your chest during a netflix binge, you realize you’ve never felt more at ease.

you send her videos before races—“go get that w, buckets”—and she sends back selfies in your mclaren merch.

one night after a podium finish, she surprises you in the garage, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder.

“you were insane out there,” she whispers.

“you always say that.”

“because it’s always true.”

you can’t help it. you press your forehead to hers and close your eyes. and for a second, everything else—the cameras, the fans, the noise—melts away.

it’s summer. off-season.

you’re in your backyard, sunlight filtering through the trees. she’s in your lap, wearing a backwards cap and one of your race shirts, laughing at something you just said. a friend snaps a photo—mid-laugh, her hand on your cheek, your eyes only on her.

you post it to instagram with a simple caption:

“in her lane. and in her heart.”

she comments: “forever my favorite driver.”

and just like that—it’s official.

fan reactions came immediately.

@/gridgirlfanclub: i’m sobbing. they’re real. they’re actually real.

@/collegeballtea: paige bueckers and y/n hard launching in july??? they just saved the internet.

@/trackcourtluv: someone write a fanfic about this. oh wait, we’re living in one.

@/wsportsedits: [tiktok edit] — “lover” by taylor swift over photos of you two through the season. caption: “from track to court, it was always her.”

you’re sitting on the hood of your car at sunset. she’s beside you, feet kicked up on the tire, sipping from your water bottle.

“you ever think about how weird this is?” she says, eyes on the horizon.

“what, you dating a race car driver?”

she nudges your arm. “no. us. all of it. the attention. the edits. the tweets. the chaos.”

you smile. “kind of. but also… it feels right.”

she turns her head toward you. “yeah?”

you nod, reaching for her hand. “yeah. like the one time i don’t need to chase something. because you’re already here.”

she leans her head on your shoulder. and in that quiet, golden moment, you think—this? this is your favorite podium finish of all.

off-seasons used to be about rest, recovery, and some intense simulator time. this year? it’s different. this year, it’s about her.

you never thought of yourself as the “vacation type.” but when paige had shown you that private airbnb listing in st. lucia—oceanfront, no neighbors, with a hammock on a deck shaded by palm trees—you booked it in ten minutes flat.

now here you are: barefoot, board shorts on, standing at the grill while the sun bleeds gold and orange across the horizon. the smell of grilled pineapple and sizzling shrimp drifts into the warm air, and somewhere behind you, you hear paige humming along to the playlist you made for the trip.

you look over your shoulder.

she’s lounging on the outdoor couch, legs stretched out, wearing your mclaren tee—oversized on her, of course—and a pair of sunglasses perched on her head. she’s scrolling through her phone, probably looking at edits fans made of your recent vacation photos.

your phone buzzes. speak of the devil. it’s a tiktok paige just sent you.

@/trackcourtluv: “y/n bringing paige to the tropics is the softest thing i’ve ever seen.” [audio: “ilysb” by lany playing over clips of you and paige walking through a market, fingers intertwined. then a paparazzi shot of you handing her a flower. then a blurry photo of her wearing your race cap, looking up at you like you hung the stars.]

you grin and glance at her. “you’re such a fan of our fan edits.”

she doesn’t even look up. “they’re better than romcoms. also—why is your fanbase funnier than mine?”

“they’re unhinged. that’s the difference.”

she finally looks at you, squinting playfully. “they call us ‘trackcourt’ now. someone made a logo. i’m not even mad.”

“should we get matching merch?” you tease.

“i’m already mentally designing the hoodies.”

dinner was perfect. paige insisted on washing the dishes (“i’m not letting you cook and clean, you maniac”), so you’re now lying in the hammock, legs crossed at the ankles, and she eventually makes her way into your lap, back against your chest.

“do you think people expected us to last?” she asks quietly.

you kiss the top of her head. “i don’t think they expected us at all.”

“same,” she murmurs. “but… i don’t know. with you, it just—clicked.”

you wrap your arms around her middle, fingertips tracing soft circles on her stomach through the fabric of your shirt.

“you’re the only person i’ve ever felt like i could slow down for,” you admit.

she tilts her head back to look at you, upside-down. “that might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said.”

“give me time. off-season’s not over yet.”

her smile is lazy, sleepy. “promise we’ll do this every year?”

“the vacation?”

“no. the slowing down.”

you tighten your hold on her. “yeah. i promise.”

it’s a photo she took: you in a tank top and sunglasses, holding a coconut with a straw in it, laughing so hard your head’s thrown back. she’s in your lap again, this time with her hand resting on your thigh, her cheek pressed against your shoulder.

caption: “somewhere between corners and coastlines, i fell.”

the comments come in instantly.

@/uconnbuckets: not her soft launching a poetry career????

@/racingreigns: paige really took “race car driver girlfriend” and ran with it. she’s so us.

@/formulagays: they’re in love and my single heart is just trying to keep up.

you’re at the gate. her flight back to campus boards in 30 minutes. you’ve got simulator training in woking next week.

she’s leaning against your chest, arms around your torso, not caring who’s watching. for once, no fans, no cameras. just the airport buzz and the quiet in-between.

“see you in monaco?” she asks, pulling back slightly.

“wouldn’t dream of racing without you there.”

she lifts her hand to cup your face. “i love you, driver girl.”

you kiss the inside of her wrist. “i love you more, baller.”

she rolls her eyes. “not possible.”

you grin. “wanna bet?”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn women’s basketball #uconn wbb #ucon wbb #paige buckets #paige x reader #lesbian #wlw #paige bueckers smut #f1 #f1 fanfic #wuh luh wuh

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velvetinks · 2 months ago

Text

Under the helmet

Pedro Pascal x f!Reader

Warnings: Suggestive language, shared dressing rooms, physical closeness, unresolved tension, soft touches

The first time you met Pedro on set, he smiled like he already knew you.

Not in an arrogant way — more like he’d been waiting for you, somehow. Like the moment had already played out in his head a hundred times.

“Hey,” he said, standing there in full Mando armor with the helmet tucked under his arm, grinning from behind his five o’clock shadow. “Guess we’ll be doing a lot of scenes together, huh?”

You were playing a rebel leader, smart, dry-humored, sharp-tongued, and rumor had it the writers had already started crafting more material between your character and his.

You didn’t mind. Not one bit.

Especially not with the way he looked at you when the cameras weren’t rolling.

The scenes started simple.

A briefing room. A tense standoff. A shared look across a battlefield.

But in the quiet moments between takes, Pedro was… different.

He lingered near your trailer with two coffees and that crooked smile. He leaned against the wall during blocking, just close enough that your shoulders would brush. He whispered lines to himself when he thought no one was watching, and you caught yourself watching far too often.

Once, during a fight rehearsal, he helped you adjust your stance. His hands wrapped around your wrist, slow and deliberate. He didn’t let go right away.

“You’re stronger than you look,” he said, eyes crinkling.

“So are you,” you replied, daring him.

His thumb brushed your pulse before he stepped back.

Your favorite days were the ones where he wore the helmet.

It was strange, you admitted it. But there was something about the mystery, the sound of his voice behind the modulator, the way he moved when he wasn’t relying on facial expressions. You knew it was him under the beskar — the way he tilted his head when you spoke, the pause before he responded. Like he was studying you.

“I can still hear you smile,” he said once during a long take where neither of you spoke, just sat across from each other. “Even with the helmet on.”

You didn’t know what to say to that.

But your heart beat faster for the rest of the day.

One night, late after a shoot ran long, you found yourselves the last two in the costume trailer. His gloves were already off, his armor half-unzipped. You were tired, your makeup smudged, your voice hoarse from yelling over blaster fire.

Pedro looked at you, and for once, there was no helmet. No character. Just him.

“Long day,” he said.

You nodded. “Couldn’t tell if we were filming or actually in the middle of a war.”

He smiled softly. “You good?”

You hesitated then sat on the bench beside him.

“I am now.”

Silence stretched. Familiar. Comfortable.

Then he turned to you, his voice low.

“You ever think about how weird this is? Us. Doing this. Pretending to fight for the galaxy but actually… I don’t know. Waiting for something real to happen?”

You met his gaze. “I think something real already is.”

He didn’t kiss you.

Not yet.

But his hand found yours, warm and steady. His thumb brushed your knuckles, and for a long time, you just sat there. No cameras. No crew. Just the hum of the set settling into silence.

And in that moment, helmet off, guard down, Pedro finally looked at you like he was done pretending.

#star wars x reader #star wars #the mandolarian #mando fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #mandalorian x reader

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pankowcrumbs · 2 months ago

Text

Good enough X Lando Norris (Requested)

MasterList

F1 Masterlist

Request: Lando Norris x Reader: Teammates to Lovers, Lando is afraid, that he is not good enough.

The paddock smelled of oil and adrenaline.

Race day was always like this tight suits, tighter helmets, and even tighter expectations. I tugged at the neck of mine, trying to focus on my breathing as engineers buzzed around our cars. Cameras flashed. Fans chanted. And somewhere, buried beneath the chaos, my nerves festered.

Being the only woman in Formula 1 was a feat I wore like armour. It shimmered on the outside a sleek, headline-ready accomplishment but it pressed hard against my bones. Every move I made was magnified. Every mistake? A banner headline.

And to make things even more complicated?

Lando Norris.

He was my teammate. Fast, smart, and maddeningly charming. The sort of person who could make you laugh during strategy briefings and then steal pole position with a grin. We were equals on paper. In private, we were… something else.

I leaned on the barrier near my car, watching him talk to his race engineer. He caught me looking and winked.

"Nervous?" he mouthed.

I rolled my eyes, but smiled. Of course I was.

We'd been circling each other for months. Flirtations over lunch debriefs, touches that lingered just a second too long when squeezing past each other in the garage. Nothing overt. Nothing spoken. But it was there a crackling charge that hummed every time we were near.

And yet, Lando never acted on it.

Not properly.

Not until last night.

I still felt the echo of his fingers brushing mine as we walked back from dinner. The heat of his palm when he'd grabbed my wrist at the hotel doors, pulling me back from leaving. The look in his eyes.

"This isn't smart," he'd whispered, his voice low and rough. "You're brilliant. Too brilliant. I don't want to be the reason you lose focus."

"And if I lose focus on my own?" I'd asked.

He didn't answer. Just released my wrist and let the silence fall between us like a curtain.

This morning, it still hadn’t lifted.

I climbed into my car, the tight cradle of carbon fibre instantly familiar. My engineer spoke through the radio, calm and focused, but my mind drifted.

To Lando.

To the way he looked at me like I was a puzzle he desperately wanted to solve.

The formation lap began.

We took our places on the grid him in P3, me right beside in P4. It was a good start. McLaren had been performing well this season. We were a strong team. A united front. But something about this tension between us made me feel like we were teetering on the edge of something we couldn’t name.

The lights went out.

I surged forward, the roar of the engine drowning every thought. My world narrowed to the track, the corners, the split-second decisions. I overtook one of the Ferraris by Lap 10. Lando was holding P2, fighting off Red Bull like a lion.

By Lap 25, we were running 2 and 3. Team radio crackled.

"Hold positions," came the instruction.

I knew what it meant. We were playing the strategy game. Tyres were degrading. No risks.

But I wanted to.

I wanted to see if I could pass him. Not to win. Not really.

Just to see if he’d let me.

He didn’t.

Every time I drew close, he defended smartly, aggressively. I caught glimpses of him, jaw set, eyes focused. I could feel the adrenaline pouring off him like heat.

After the race, we parked up P2 and P3. Podiums for both. Confetti rained. Champagne sprayed.

And still, all I could think about was the moment his hand brushed my waist on the steps.

Back in the hospitality suite, I cornered him.

"We need to talk."

He hesitated, scanning the room. Then nodded.

We found a quiet corridor behind the media tent. I leaned against the wall. He stood opposite, arms folded.

"Why won't you let this happen?" I asked.

He exhaled slowly. "Because it's not simple. We're teammates. If it goes wrong…"

"And if it goes right?" I challenged.

He looked at me then, properly. All the barriers dropped.

"I think about you constantly," he said. "Every race, every briefing, every bloody lunch. I look for you. I listen for your laugh. I wait for your texts. It's driving me mad. But I don’t want to be the guy who ruins this for you."

My chest tightened. "You're not. I know the risks. I’m not scared."

He stepped closer. "I am. I’m scared that if we cross that line and it doesn’t work, I’ll lose more than just a teammate."

We spent the rest of the night talking, leaning into one another, stealing quiet smiles like they were secrets only we understood. And while the world outside kept spinning, for once, we let ourselves stop pretending.

But even in that stillness, I could sense it. The hesitation in his eyes. The worry gnawing at the edges of every soft thing he gave me.

It came to a head a week later, in Monaco.

We were seated in the back of the McLaren hospitality unit after media day. Rain tapped against the windows. The smell of coffee lingered in the air. I had just finished laughing at something ridiculous he’d said, and when I reached for his hand across the small table, he pulled away slightly.

My chest tightened.

“Lando?” I asked gently.

He looked down, fingers rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck. “I keep thinking… why you’d choose this.”

I blinked. “This?”

He glanced up at me, that familiar vulnerability swimming in his ocean-blue eyes. “Me.”

My heart broke a little at the way he said it like he genuinely couldn’t see what I saw every single day.

“You’re Lando Norris,” I said with a soft smile. “Quickest hands on the grid, heart bigger than this whole bloody paddock, and the only person who’s ever made me feel like I could actually breathe out here.”

He didn’t smile.

“I’m not like you,” he said quietly. “You’re… fierce. Brilliant. Every camera turns when you walk in. You’ve changed the game, and you don’t even flinch when the world tries to tear you down.”

“And you think I don’t get scared?” I asked. “That I don’t second guess myself every time I climb in the car?”

“It’s different,” he muttered. “Everyone already believes in you.”

There was a silence then, heavy and aching.

He wasn’t saying this because he didn’t want me. He was saying it because he did and he was terrified it would all fall apart and I’d realise he wasn’t enough.

I stood and walked around the table, crouching beside him.

“Lando,” I said softly, “do you have any idea how many times I’ve looked at you and thought, ‘God, I wish I could be as effortless as him’? How often I’ve watched you charm an entire room or pull a miracle lap out of nowhere and thought, ‘That’s what greatness looks like’?”

He looked up, eyes glassy now.

“I didn’t fall for you because of a stat sheet or your driver rating,” I continued. “I fell for the way you always look back to see if I’m following. The way you defend me in interviews when I’m not there. The way you never underestimate me even when half the world still does.”

He exhaled shakily, hands reaching for mine this time. “I just… don’t want to hold you back.”

“You never have,” I said. “You push me forward. Every single day.”

His fingers tightened around mine.

We didn’t kiss. We didn’t need to.

That moment his head resting lightly against my shoulder, my fingers in his hair, his whispered “Okay… I’ll try” that was all we needed to break the last wall between us.

And from that day on, Lando tried.

He quieted the voice that told him he wasn’t enough. I helped when I could, reminding him, sometimes gently, sometimes firmly, that love wasn’t about perfection. It was about showing up. And he did. Always.

Even when the headlines caught wind of us two months later.

“F1’s Power Duo or a Disaster in Waiting?” “Is Romance Ruining McLaren’s Dynamic?” “Flirtation on the Grid Norris and Y/L/N Too Close for Comfort?”

We laughed. We rolled our eyes. We showed up anyway.

Side by side in the paddock. Fierce and unbothered. A team.

But sometimes, after a tough race or a brutal press day, I’d find him quiet staring out at the track like it was asking him questions he couldn’t answer.

And I’d just take his hand. Not to fix it. Just to remind him that he wasn’t in it alone.

Because if there was one thing stronger than the pressure or the scrutiny it was us.

Would you like me to continue with how they officially go public, or maybe something sweet like a holiday or time with friends to show how far they’ve come?

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goddessficlover · 4 months ago

Text

Alice In Gotham Pt 2

The Bats had been on edge that last 2 months, to put it lightly. Oracle was sure she heard movement above her in the clock tower. She had assumed it was one if the Bats but none of them moved that sloppily unless hurt. And yet, all their vitals looked fine on her monitors. She called Spoiler to check it out since she was the closest. What they found was nothing at all. Except the dust was unnatural. No foot prints or evidence of crawling. Like something had been dead there for a long period of time, then suddenly scrambled awake and disappeared. The way some of the dust was still settling when she got there was eerie and sent chills down the purple bat's spine. They set up a camera and motion detector to monitor the space, and after 2 months nothing came. Still, for Oracle’s sanity and Batman's paranoia, they left the camera there as a precaution.

Other than that, Gotham seemed to have less attacks, or crimes in general, than usual. Even crime alley, things were actually running. According to Intel, some homeless kid called Scraps was fixing things for small businesses and people who simply couldn't afford to replace things in exchange for food or pocket change. Sometimes he even did it for free if it was urgent. Not only that but apparently the kid could defend himself. Had saved a couple of the night girls from people who didn't understand the word “no”. They'd give him treats when he came by once in a while. Simple things like a lollipop or a granola bar. Concerningly though, they also said he'd eat it with the wrappers still on. Kid was eating actual trash to survive. That, meant Red Hood had to try and keep an eye on him. The problem was the kid kept fucking disappearing. No one knew where he was living, or if he even slept. Sometimes he'd be around early morning, or late at night. The kid had no schedule except for Sundays. When no one was watching the dump, he go and steal broken tech or salvage tools and other scraps. It was the only time Hood managed to get a glance at the kid. Didn't even need to be close because damn those blue eyes were bright, even under his hoodie. Fuck, that was adoption bait and the others were going to go nuts. Tying to follow Scraps back to his hide out was another loss, he completely disappeared around a corner as if he was never even there.

“Hold on, you said this kid works with tech but you can't catch him?” Red Robin asked.

“Nope, couldn't even find anything through the power grid. He might be working on something but he's not even using electricity for it. Or he somehow managed to get it while staying off the grid,” Red Hood responded. Red Robin was the last person he wanted to ask for help, but it had been 2 months, and this whole week not one person had been able to confirm if Scraps was around. No one had seen him since he said he had a job. Not Hood or Jason had been able to make contact since he first popped up in crime alley. At this point he was going to break his TV and hire the kid just to make sure they were okay. Kids disappearing was never a good sign. No one fucked with kids on his turf.

“Jason… what does the kid look like?” Red Robin sighed while working on the batcomputer to check crime alley more thoroughly.

Taking a deep breath and sighing he spoke up, “Adoption bait.”

“We can not let B know about him,” Tim groaned as he drank out of a nearly empty coffee mug.

“B is not taking another kid to put into a suit. The kid’s mine to keep an eye out for,” Red Hood growled below his helmet before taking a breath, “Besides, with how smart the kid is, he'll probably get a scholarship to some school out here and end up at Wayne Enterprise anyway. He can wait a few years to meet him.”

“Hey boys,” Oracle chimed in from the Bat computer, “I've located the kid, he tends to make camera a little fuzzy around his face but those eyes are recognizable. He was spotted a week ago in the warehouse district. The same place we have a lead on scarecrow’s fear gas.”

“Fuck,” was all Red Hood said before getting back on his bike.

“Red Hood is going to investigate. Anything else you can find on him? Maybe a facial scan so we can get him back to his family?” Red Robin began going through the warehouse cameras to find which warehouse he went into, “Damn it, the same night as that storm? We can't get any good views after he entered Warehouse 56.”

“I'm going to check it out now,” Red Hood responded, “Keep B off my back. I don't want him involved, Scraps is my case.”

“I'll try, but you know he still makes mistakes with boundaries,” Oracle responded, “Should I call in Nightwing for you?”

“No, not yet. But fill him in. Something doesn't feel right about this. Red Hood out.”

—

It took four days and about 24 renewed microchips for Hatter to keep Danny asleep. It frustrated him to no end that the chips kept wearing out after four hours. Eventually he decided some hypnosis was in order and asked the kid directly why It wasn't working.

“Regular tech doesn't respond well to my presence,” he answered soullessly.

“Really? How can you get it to work?” Hatter was surprised his Alice understood what was going on and how to fix it.

“It needs to be infused with my blood,” he answered a half truth. While under control his subconscious need to keep everything ghostly a secret somehow still came through.

“Is that all? That's so simple… Go back to sleep Alice. When you wake you will be perfect,” he ordered and Danny's eyes shut.

Danny wasn't in anything impressive at the moment. A white night gown, plain and simple, while laying in a bed. They had moved from the warehouse to Hatter's hideout where he had access to all the tech he needed. Hatter wasn't happy to see the scars over Danny's body. His poor Alice had be hurt, been held captive by the looks of the marks on his wrists and ankles. A scar hidden in his freckles on the bridge of his nose along side others, Hatter could hide them with make up but still he felt distaste for who every damaged Alice’s face.

In another day's time, Hatter had created a diadem with multiple chips throughout it's construction as a failsafe. All, infused with Danny's oddly green glowing blood. When it came time, his Alice was properly cleaned by the March Hare and her now finished dress was applied, along with the waterproof silver diadem. It locked into place, no simple tug off from Batman or any of the birds would work. It had to be completely unlocked to be removed. His Alice, harmed by someone else's touch was too precious to lose. It was a hard battle to get her fully under his control after all. He wasn't going to risk anything. He skin was already pale, pale like a porcelain doll. That was what this Alice was for. A doll to admire from afar for her beauty alone. Dressed in her sky blue dress with her white apron. Her puffed sleeves and white gloves to cover the scars on her wrists. Bloomers for added volume to the ruffle skirt, and of course the thigh high white socks with mary jane's shoes. A long blond wig with bangs to hide the diadem was placed on her head, another chip in the wig before the wig was glued down, as he didn't want to risk damaging her precious skin more than it was. instead Of a headband, A ribbon was tied into her hair instead. A porcelain Alice, one Hatter would keep by his side so as to not lose her.

His perfect Alice.

—

Staking out the warehouse didn't find Scraps, but they did find a surplus of fear gas being manufactured by scarecrow with what was the most efficient assembly line these goons could have put together. It was an easy take down when Nightwing and Spoiler joined in for a takedown to stop the plan to gas the city before it started. The goons were hardly a challenge, and Red Robin would be able to make a new antidote for the rebreathers incase there was another warehouse like this one. The one thing that caught their attention was a gutted microwave on display on a side table. Evidence Scraps was here. Fuck.

“What did you do to the kid?” Red Hood growled, grabbing one of the few conscious goons who had been ziptied.

“What kid?” Spoiler hadn't been let in on the Scraps case.

“Kid?” the goon looked confused.

“Scraps. What did you do to Scraps? He fixes tech to make money. You guys had him here. Tell me what you did with him or yours knees are going to bend in reverse,” Hood snarled and the guy pales.

“We hired him to fix the assembly line. Told him it was for screwing tops on bottles. Paid him and fed him. He pulled the microwave out of thin air, and used it to fix the motor or something. He left into the storm after we paid him,” the goons caved and Hood tossed him towards the pile of them where they were waiting for the police.

“So the only evidence of Scraps is a microwave he pulled out of thin air? How does that even work, it's a microwave. You can't just hide that thing. That's not even a little one, that one looks like it was built into the wall originally,” Nightwing looked at the microwave and used some light dust from his bag before brushing it away, “There's fingerprints all over. Mostly large ones, how small is Scraps?”

“Little smaller than Robin,” Red Hood answered.

“Red Hood, Nightwing, I have eyes on Scraps with Mad Hatter,” Oracle chimed him, and the tension in the warehouse rose, “3 days ago he's spotted leaving warehouse 64 with the March Hare and Scraps following.”

“Fuck,” Hood punched one the machines, as he processed the information. Scraps was pretty androgynous looking. Hatter usually preferred natural blonde but those glowing blue eyes probably drew his attention. A wig would be an easy fix, “Scan everywhere you can Oracle, if Hatter has him we’re on a time limit.”

“Littlewing,” Nightwing placed a hand on Hood’s shoulder, “We'll find Scraps. She- they can't be gone for long. Hatter never stops with just one Alice, he'll leave a trail and we'll follow it.”

“Red Robin, Oracle,” Hood spoke into his com, “Do you have any other leads to Hatter’s location?”

“No yet, but we'll keep searching,” Oracle answered.

“Can I get in on this Scraps case? The tower ghost is coming up dead,” Spoiler asked and Nightwing left to talk with the arriving officers who took the goons into custody.

Red Hood sighed. He'd like to keep crime alley business out of the rest of Gotham, but this kid could be anywhere in Gotham now. He needed to keep an eye on Crime alley too. He needed more eyes, as reluctant as he wasn't to accept it, “Fine. You and Orphan are in because I know you will tell her anyway. Keep Robin and Batman out of it. Kid looks like adoption bait. Goes by Scraps on the streets, their real name is unknown.”

“Sound like so are their pronouns,” Spoiler laughed, “Well keep our eyes out for them. Send the case file to me and Orphan. I'll fill her in about tonight. Should we tell Duke?”

“No, not yet,” Red Hood answered, “He can't keep a secret from B if he thinks it’s serious. We might have to if we can't find any leads to check if he can see something we can't. Scraps’ eyes are blue, like they're glowing. It’s hard to miss.”

“So, their a meta in hiding?” Spoiler asked as she walked away.

“If they are, Batman is gonna be pissed,” Nightwing responded on come.

“B can fuck off. It's not like people chose to be metas, kid probably didn't even know and has no where else to go. I'm checking out warehouse 64,” Hood left, riding his bike to warehouse 64 where he found a mostly empty lot.

There were a few forgotten things. Evidence of a tea party and a few discarded headbands. Timbit would be able to look at them later. What pissed Hood off to recognize the edging of green in his vision, was a discarded backpack, and clothes that had long since been hung to dry.

“I found Scraps personal belongings. He was here during the storm. His clothes are hung over a banister to dry. And his bag was left behind,” Hood opened the bag, two different tool boxes inside along with smaller parts of tech. Some snacks- a frozen apple?

“Spoiler might be right about this kid being a meta,” Hood spoke up.

“Really? What gave it away?” Spoiler responded through coms.

“I found an apple that's been frozen solid in a layer of frost in their bag along with tools and tech. They're an ice meta of some kind,” Hood examined the apple. The frost was intricate like lace and beautiful as it glistened in the moonlight. No evidence of melting at all. It was freezing to touch even through his reinforced gloves.

“But they left 3 days ago. How hasn't it melted?” Nightwing asked.

“Don't know but it's still cold. The kids got a bigass first aid kit in here too. Not even a water bottle. A frozen apple, three granola bars, and the rest is all tech or tools. He carries his work more than his survival supplies. He's got a place to stay somewhere but I haven't found it yet,” he put everything back into the back pack along with his clothes.

For now, it was a dead end. They needed a new trail, a clue, but they'd have to wait. Still, the idea of a child younger than Robin in the hands of the Hatter, it made Red Hood’s stomach churn something ugly as he fought back against the pit. When they found Jervis Tetch, he'd have first dips on punching the guy so hard he'd have to get replacement buck teeth.

—

Alice was still odd to Mad Hatter. She was under his control and the chips were no longer dying out. However there were small things she did. He complained about the temperature of the room being too high, and suddenly the room cooled while her eyes glowed even brighter. He never ordered her too, she did it on her own. She wasn't programed for that. He mentioned finding another girl to dress up Alice disappeared from his side and reappeared 20 minutes later with an unconscious woman in her arms. Blond hair, and blue eyes. Again, he never ordered her to do so. And yet, Hatter only felt glee as he realized his Perfect Alice could do more than his henchmen ever could in a very fast amount of time. But the best part was when he asked her to disappear for two minutes and she turned invisible right in front of him. His buck toothed smile was mad as he had a tool he'd never had before. A silent Alice who was as skilled in shadows and she was in the light. An Alice the bats couldn't follow back.

“Alice, my wonderful Alice, you are more than I have imagined. We are going to send some invitations soon. So for now, go rest in bed. Your mission will be ready by tomorrow night,” Mad Hatter grinned, “I have a Tea Party to plan for a special guest!”

---

A girl was reported missing, blonde hair and blue eyes. But no evidence of a break in what so ever. No locks were touched, only the bed where she had been sleeping was touched. Nothing on the camera aside from the quality being fuzzy. Odd, those should be updated cameras. This one may have to be replaced, or there was someone altering the feed. Oracle has yet to find evidence of tampering with the cameras. By appearance alone, one suspect on Batman’s list was Mad Hatter. He'd have to keep track of other kidnappings of women with similar appearances to be sure.

With nothing left to examine at the scene, Batman moved on. Robin following close behind, annoyed at the lack of evidence he'd managed to find. Not even a finger print, the culprit was wearing gloves. Most criminals wore gloves, it wasn't unusual.

The Batman came to a sudden halt, “Robin, we have confirmation Hatter is involved with the case.”

Robin landed besides his father and saw a blonde dressed in a blue frilly dress with an apron. It wasn't the same woman taken from her apartment. This was a child, probably a little younger than Robin, himself. She was alone, on a rooftop. Scanning the area there was no one else around. Just this child dressed as Alice, trapped under mind control.

“I shall remove the wig,” Robin approached.

“Oracle we have an Alice, send medical and alert the police,” Batman ordered as Robin slowly approached the hostage.

“B, are their eyes glowing?” Oracle asked.

“Oracle, does this have to do with Hood, Nightwing, and Spoiler’s sudden team up?” Batman asked, voice gruff with annoyance and frustration with their lack of reports from that event.

“Yes. The kid is called Scraps, and is suspect to be an ice meta. They had a frozen apple in their belongings. According to Hood it hasn’t melted yet. Kid went missing a week ago. We had a lead that revealed Mad Hatter is the one who took them,” Oracle gave a short report, and Batman grunted in return.

“Mad Hatter has invited you to a tea party,” a soulless voice suddenly came from the child as Robin was closing in.

The child was now holding out a green envelope. Masked eyes studied the arm holding out the letter for a moment, something made Robin stiffen subtly, Batman nearly missed it. Robin took the envelope and then tried to grab their wrist only for Alice to pull free and jump back. Now standing on the ledge towards the open street.

“Come forward, you will fall standing there. I mean you no harm,” Robin held out his hand to Alice.

“You are not permitted to touch me. The invite was delivered, goodbye,” With that, the Alice stepped back and fell.

Robin jumped after them, shooting his grappling hook to catch the wall only to find the Alice was gone. Batman had run after the child as well, both splitting into a silent search of the perimeter to find nothing. No sound of foot steps, nothing but the cars and people below. The Alice was gone, and no trail to follow them with.

“Nightwing, Spoiler, Red Hood, Batcave. Now,” Batman motioned for Robin to follow, clicking his tongue as the mysterious child escaped.

“Father, we still have the invite,” Robin handed the green envelope to Batman as they were returning to the manor. Only a quick pause to check the letter for trackers. The only thing inside was coordinates, a time, and the date two nights from now.

At the cave, Batman was forced to wait for the trio to appear. Nightwing arrived first, then Spoiler. No surprise Red Hood was last and took as long as possible.

“Report,” Batman ordered, sternly. Eyes narrowing at his children who yet again hid something from him.

“Scraps was taken by Tetch during the storm. Red Hood started the case a week after Scraps went missing. We want to find this lost meta kid and get them into a safe place or back home. Hood’s area says they has an accent so they might not want to be in the city,” Spoiler answered, “They work as a handyman, fixing up anything. A tech nerd like RR.”

“Tech nerd? The kid had garbage in his backpack. Broken everything and mangled parts that should have been considered unsalvageable. How the hell are they gonna build anything from that?” Red Robin groaned, getting Batman's attention, “Shit.”

“Anything to report, Red Robin?” Batman glared as another one of his children was in on the withholding of information.

“The kid makes cameras glitch out or just fuzzy sometimes. We can't get a facial scan no mater how much we try and salvage the images or the cameras themselves. Scraps does something to them that we haven't managed to bypass,” and that made a sad piece click into this new case.

“We just ran into an Alice with vibrant eyes. They jumped off the roof after giving us a set of coordinates, a time, and the date 2 nights from now. I went to catch them but they disappeared. No sound of the landing, just silence,” Robin spoke up.

“These coordinates?” Red Robin took the paper from Batman and found the location on Gotham’s map.

“Hm,” Batman replied, looking up at the screen. A trap, but there was time to prepare.

“I shall prepare a guest room, then,” Alfred appeared behind them with a trolley of sandwiches and tea for an after patrol snack.

“No, we are not bringing Scraps to the manor,” Red Hood argued, although it was pointless to argue with Alfred.

“So you say Master Jason. I just like to be prepared,” Alfred left as quickly as he came.

“Scraps looks like adoption bait,” Nightwing sighed as Orphan came in with a smile.

Bruce just sighed as he removed his cowl, “If this hostage is a meta, we'll need to focus on trying to free them from the mind control. We night need to use suppressor cuffs, or a collar. What ever we can get on them temporarily to avoid injury. We will prepare in the mean time. Hatter uses mind control, we will be fighting civilians, keep that in mind.”

“Father, there was an observation I had when I was close to the hostage,” Robin spoke up again, “When they held out the invitation with their left hand I could see lichtenberg scars traveling up their arm. But instead of being pink and irritated, they were almost pure white. Along with several other smaller scars on their arms. They felt cold for the second I grabbed them.”

Lichtenberg scars… They fade after a few days, which meant the kid was recently electrocuted… But why were they white? Red Hood took a breath, counting to 10 before focusing again.

“I need to know what happened to that kid and who's ass I need to kick,” Red Hood growled, after setting his empty plate back on the trolley.

“We’ll find them, now that we are all keeping an eye out. Tomorrow we patrol as normal, then we send a team after Hatter.”

—

Signal had been having a good morning patrol. He was quickly filled in on the Hatter situation and to try and follow the meta Alice if they came into contact. Signal was having a pretty normal patrol. Stopping a car jacking, a convenient store robbery, a mugging, and a purse snatcher. Nothing he couldn't handle on his own. Finally, a glimpse of shimmering sky blue caused Signal to stop in his tracks.

“Hey, there,” Signal turned to find the Alice, and just as described, their eyes were glowing. But so was the rest of their aura, it was flickering in an odd way, “Are you lost?”

“No,” they responded, and the aura began to fade a little more.

“Okay, you need me for something, right? Are you going to invite me to your team party tomorrow night?” Signal slowly approached. He just needed to be distracting enough that he could use a shadow to grab the wig.

“You do not have permission to touch me,” Alice turned transparent. The aura flared just as the shadow fell through them, missing the wig completely.

“Okay, I won't touch you,” Signal reached up to his com and spoke silently. Of course he didn't know Alice could hear him anyway, “Contact with meta Alice. They can density shift. My shadows passed through their body.”

“See what else you can learn about them. So far Meta Alice doesn't seem hostile,” Oracle responded, “If you can free or follow them back we might get a lead on either the trap or Hatter's base.”

“Copy,” Signal nodded, keeping the com on and recording the conversation for later. Alice was deathly still but their clothes and hair were flowing as if gravity and the wind had no effect on them, “Can you tell me what you need from me?”

“Has Robin read his invitation?” Alice tilted their head slightly, a habit Danny still maintained.

“Yes, was it just for Robin? Batman thought it was for both of them,” Signal hadn't actually seen the invitation himself, just the report about it.

“Just for Robin. Batman isn't invited,” their monotone voice continued. They lifted their left hand and held out a yellow envelope, “Mad Hatter has invited you to his tea party, Signal.”

“Okay, thank you,” Signal approached and took the envelope. Through Alice's gloves and his own, Signal felt a cold chill up his arm and down his spine.

“Goodbye,” they spoke before jump off the building, much like with Robin.

“Wait,” Signal tucked away the letter and followed Alice as their aura flared again. They never landed on the ground. Instead they were invisible on the physical plain and floating away slowly. Unfortunately the aura he followed soon disappeared with Alice all together, “Alice went west before disappearing from my vision. I'm attempting to follow. They can float, apparently. And go completely invisible, even hiding their aura. They're hard to track but if I can get another glimpse of their aura or find them with some light manipulation I can follow.”

“So definitely a meta,” Oracle was typing again, probably updating Scraps’ file, “Use the cuffs if you can get close, Signal. Scraps also causes camera to go a bit fuzzy when nearby, I'll let you know what areas I notice they might be in because of the glitches.”

“Still heading west as far as I can tell,” it wasn't an exciting chase since the hostage floated away at a jogging pace, but that didn't mean Signal wasn't having trouble. It was as if Scraps was using their aura like breadcrumbs for Signal to follow. Eventually, Scraps’ aura stopped appearing, they were gone, “I lost Scraps, I'm going to check the area incase I was lead here for a reason. We can pin the coordinates for later.”

“Already on it. Looks like you're pretty close to the coordinates on the invite,” Oracle responded, “Mad Hatter might be leading us to his base. Its obviously a trap, he must have confidence to be so careless.”

“My invite has the same coordinates as Robin's,” Duke looked in the general direction of the coordinates, the Botanical Gardens.

“Keep an eye out, we don't know where Scraps may next appear,” Oracle signed off and Signal moved on with their patrol.

—

Orphan was the next to receive an invite. It was the first time a civilian noticed her while blending with the shadows.

“Orphan, Mad Hatter has invited you to a tea party,” Once again holding out an envelope for the vigilante, Scraps stood unmoving until the letter was taken.

Orphan attempted to follow, listening for breathing or foot steps, once again no one could follow them.

Spoiler was invited, and she tried and failed to grab the wig before Scraps disappeared.

Even Nightwing received an invite. Although his attempt to free Scraps was as fruitless as with the others. He did notice when he made a pun that Scraps had a habit of tilting their head to the side. A hint of a personality trapped inside.

Red Robin followed, but didn't immediately take the invite. His theory was Scraps would only leave after the invite was taken. It had been five minutes now. While he couldn't remove the wig, he was taking a few scans of Scraps.

“Shit,” Red Robin cursed as he scanned Scraps' vitals, “Scraps’ heart rate is dangerously low and is hardly breathing. Their temperature is insanely low at 90°F. They're hypothermic.”

“Please take the invite,” it was the first time Scraps has said anything since offering the invite and telling Red Robin not to touch them.

“I will, but can I get you to a hospital first- Hey!” Red Robin was quickly cut off by an ice shard suddenly flying his way.

Scraps was fast, slamming the letter roughly into his chest and freezing it to his suit before disappearing.

“RR what happened?” Nightwing spoke up on coms.

“I was trying to negotiate, and Scraps didn't take it too well. Fired an attack and now I have an envelope frozen to my chest,” he wasn't going to mention how that same push forced the air out of his lungs and bruised him.

“We can't wait for tomorrow with their current vitals, Scraps is going to die if we don't get them into a hospital. They need an ICU in that condition. Hatter is going to kill the kid at this rate,” Red Robin spoke up, trying to pull the letter and the ice off. The ice wasn't melting or breaking at all. Not even a scratch when he tried to use a bird-a-rang to pry it off, “What the fuck is this ice made of? I can't get it to budge. Can't even scrape off a sample.”

“You couldn't even get a sample off the apple,” Red Hood responded.

“This ice has an edge to pry under, the apple is solid all the way around. I thought if maybe… ha!” the entire chunk of ice along with the envelope came off in one solid peace, “I finally have a sample I can work with.”

“Everyone return to the cave for a debrief. We'll be infiltrating the tea party tonight,” Batman ordered his brood who wrapped up their current tasks to return to the cave.

It was time to crash a Tea Party.

~~~

Master List

Part 1

Part 3

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #batfam #dp x dc crossover #batman #red hood #red hood is a revenant #dc mad hatter #mad hatter dc #mind control #homeless danny fenton #bad parents maddie and jack fenton #ghost king phantom #cross dressing Danny Fenton #Dp x Dc Scraps au

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not-neverland06 · 1 year ago

Text

How About a Nuke?

Part I / Part II

Cooper Howard x fem!reader A/N: This is really a prelude to the real story. It’s who they were before the bombs dropped and not as fleshed out as it could be. Summary: Hollywood doesn’t agree with you, as much as you wished it would. Until you meet Cooper Howard and he flips your world upside down. (Image below does not represent reader, I mean I don’t even look like that)

“Quench your thirst and a little bit more,” you winked and held up the dripping bottle of Nuka-Cola. You shot your best smile at the camera in front of you, holding it until the director let out a loud “Cut!” The smile dropped instantly and you dumped the bottle back in its cooler.

Tom walked behind the camera, a frown on his face as he replayed the clip. You’d been here two hours already for a thirty second promo, there’s no reason it should have been taking this long.

You shifted, the leather on your legs creaking uncomfortably. They had you in some odd little space suit, more sexy than functional. The backdrop behind you was of painted stars and an out of scale moon. You weren’t sure how space and Nuka-Cola connected but a check was a check.

“Is that who I think it is?”

You turned around at the sound of gasping. Your eyes widened and your stomach dropped when you watched the Cooper Howard walk through the entrance of the studio. Your biggest celebrity crush and idol just walked through the door and you were dressed like a sexy astronaut. This is beyond embarrassing.

You had begged your agent to let you take some more serious roles, or at least a few fun ones. You’d been stuck in the same role of sexy bombshell for too long. You couldn’t even escape it doing a few advertisements. You wanted someone like Cooper to think you were classy or distinguished at least. Not some sellout with over lined red lips.

You whipped your head around, hoping he wouldn’t notice you, and pretended to be fascinated by the cheap set you were on. “Mr. Howard, a pleasure,” you briefly glanced over your shoulder to watch your director shakehis hand. Cooper looked up, his eyes briefly catching yours. You winced and turned back around.

“What are you doing here?”

”Filming a new advertisement for Nuka, would you like to see?”

”Why, yes I would.”

Oh, this was wonderful. Just great. You reached up to pinch the bridge of your nose but your hands just jammed painfully against the plastic of your helmet. You listened to them replaying your clip, hating the sultry tone of your voice. You hated being typecast like this.

You didn’t work so hard to earn your spot in Hollywood just to be forced into the role of a sex symbol. You could be more, you knew it. You just needed a chance. “You did wonderful.”

You jumped in shock at the voice near your ear, your helmet hitting something hard. You heard a groan of pain and turned around mortified to see Cooper holding his nose. “Oh, Mr. Howard, I am so, so sorry.”

He shook his head and held up a hand, smiling amicably at you. “My fault, sweetheart, shouldn’t have snuck up on ya.”

You let out an annoyed huff and finally pulled the damn thing off. “Honestly, I should pay more attention, this damn thing’s a safety hazard.” He chuckled and it made you smile without even realizing it. You could feel the heat already blooming under your skin, just barely resisting the urge to fan yourself. But you couldn’t help but be flustered. It was Cooper Howard!

He finally let go of his nose and you sighed in relief when you saw that it wasn’t too badly damaged. He seemed to understand your relief because he laughed again. You heard whispers behind the two of you and finally realized just how close you both were. A couple PA’s stood huddled together, pointing at you with accusing fingers and harsh glares.

Probably not smart to be a sex symbol and stand so close to a married man.

You dropped the smile and took a step back from him. As much as you disliked typecasting, you would hate losing jobs more. You didn’t need any rumors to spread because you smiled too widely at Cooper. Lord knows your career barely survived the last round of gossip, that you’d been sleeping your way into roles. Which you hadn’t. You don’t need anything more like that bothering you now.

Cooper glanced over your shoulder and seemed to notice the same thing as you, but he didn’t seem bothered by it like you were. Of course, he was a man and he was very happily married, he didn’t have to worry about the same things as you. He was secure in both his relationship and place in the world. You’d just barely gotten a foothold on everything.

“I thought you seemed just sweet as peaches in that clip.”

You gave him a brief smile, “Thank you.”

”Though,” he frowned and glanced over at the director. You rolled your eyes when you saw Tom point over at you and then gesture to his stomach. If they sinched your waist one more damn time your ribs were going to crack. “I don’t quite understand why you had to be seductive.” He seemed genuinely perplexed but it didn’t take a genius to understand the underlying message of his words.

You shrugged, “Just seems to be the way my career is going right now.”

”Is that what you want?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. You haven't been asked that before. Of course you’d spoken up about being unhappy with your roles, though you still took them. But no one had ever asked you what you wanted. An odd feeling bloomed in your chest and you took another precautionary step back. “Um,” you frowned and shook your head, “no. It’s not what I want.”

He smiled, seemingly pleased by the answer. “Look, sweetheart, I didn’t come here to drink cola or chat,” he held up his hands in apology, “as wonderful a conversationalist as you are. I’m filming a movie right now. We're looking for a lady with a strong presence to be my companion in the film. I’ve seen your movies, you’re capable of a lot more than they’re giving you to work with. I think you’d be perfect for the role.”

Your ears started to ring as you stared at him in shock. It was hard to keep your jaw closed the longer he spoke. There’s no way that everything you’ve been wanting was just being offered to you on a silver platter. Stuff like that only happened in…

Well, it only happened in movies.

“That is if you want the role? You’re not looking particularly enthused,” he gave you a charming grin and you finally remembered you actually had to respond to him to get what you wanted.

“Yes!”

You didn’t care how loud you were or how dirty the looks you were getting from others were. There was nothing on your mind other than the man in front of you and what he was offering you.

Everything you wanted.

You stared up at the poster on Cooper’s wall. “I always thought I looked ridiculous in this one.”

“Well,” Barb came up behind you and handed you a martini. You took it from her with a grateful smile and took a sip. You tried to stop your face from screwing up but alcohol had never really sat well with you. “I think you look amazing.” She smiled at you and walked back towards the living room.

You stayed where you were at the end of the stairs, staring up at the too-large poster. You and Cooper were standing back-to-back, your gun raised to your lips and a smirk on your red lips as your hat laid tilted over your eyes. The bright red cursive title sat under your spurred boots, The Outlaw and The Sheriff.

Well, they certainly hadn’t been creative with the name. You couldn’t really bring yourself to care, though, it had been your first real role. You had played someone of substance, someone whose entire life didn’t revolve around the man she wanted to have an affair with. Cooper had opened up more doors for you then he would ever understand.

You turned from the poster and back to the party. For once you weren’t being surrounded by a group of groping producers or Hollywood execs. Being a part of Cooper’s family, someone he was mentoring, it carried a certain power within the den of vipers. You weren’t untouchable, but you weren’t someone to be so easily ruined.

You flashed kind smiles and coy waves at the people who called out your name and made your quick escape to the backyard.

Cooper’s new movie had been released and he was having a sort of celebration party. Though, you think it’s just Barb trying to integrate Vault-Tec into the movie industry. From the disgusted looks on some of your co-star’s faces you could tell it wasn’t going very well.

You sighed in relief at the fresh air and slowly made your way over to the pool chairs. Your feet ached in your heels and you could already feel blisters starting to form. You undid the straps and slipped them off. You lowered yourself onto the edge of the pool and dipped your toes in, the relief instantaneous.

You weren’t out very long before you heard steps approaching. You let out a deep sigh, mentally preparing yourself for your peace to be ruined by whoever wanted to bother you. “You’re not skipping my party, are you?”

You opened your eyes to find Cooper smiling down at you. You always wondered how his smiles could be so genuine when he spoke to you. You hadn’t felt like you’d given anyone a real smile in a long time. This industry had taken a lot from you and lately you’d been wondering if it had stolen your happiness too.

You shrugged, “It was getting a little boring.”

He grinned and slipped his shoes off. You watched him roll his pants up and groan as he dipped his legs in the pool with you. His smile slipped and his eyes widened when his legs landed in the water, “Damn, it’s fucking cold!”

You barked out a laugh, rough and very unladylike while he squirmed like a girl at a little cold water. “Didn’t you fight in a war?” You teased.

He nudged his shoulder into yours, “Watch it,” you shook your head, dismissing his faux warning. You knew he didn’t really mind when you bugged him. It’s how you two had been acting around each other since day one. Tabloids labeled you two as close as kin, brother and sister.

As much as it bugged you every time you read a headline like that while standing in line at the grocery store, you supposed it was better than everyone thinking you were some two-timing slut. But it bothered you how much your relationship being labeled siblings in nature irritated you. He had a wife and child, you couldn’t let some pathetic crush cloud your judgment like this.

It was real hard to remember that, though, when he looked at you the way he did. Sitting by his side, under the moonlight, his eyes warm and earnest as he sent you an easygoing smile. You’ll never figure out if it’s in your head, but you swear he doesn’t smile at anyone the way he does at you.

You feel like the only woman in the world sitting there with him. Like there wasn’t a party going on a few yards away in his house. And you hadn’t just accepted a martini from his wife who had graciously invited you into their home. It was just you and him.

You didn’t realize you were leaning in until your lips were brushing his. He should have pulled back. You shouldn’t have leaned in. But his hand was on your waist and the other was buried in your hair, desperately pulling you closer.

It wasn’t gentle or slow like you’d always imagined it. His mouth was moving hungrily over yours, practically devouring you in his desperation to get as close to you as possible. His hand tugged at the roots of your styled hair, a pained moan slipped through your lips. That wasn’t enough to snap you out of your trance, but his tongue licking into your mouth was. He groaned, tasting and savoring you like you would be his last meal. Like he had wanted you just as much as you had wanted him and he wasn’t going to let this chance slip away.

You jumped back but he didn’t let you go far with his hands on you. His eyes slowly opened while the reality of the situation dawned on you both. You let out a horrified gasp at the sight of your lipstick smeared over his lips. “Oh, god, Coop.” You whispered, voice strained as you stared at him, “What did we do?”

His eyes darted between yours, the realization coming slower to him. When it did, you could pinpoint the exact moment it hit him. His mouth drew up in disgust and he ripped his hands off you. He leapt up, water splashing your dress as he did, but you were too hurt to really care. He clamped a hand over his mouth, looking very much like he was about to throw up on you. “Fuck,” he hissed, jaw clenched and eyes squeezing shut.

You grabbed your bag and shoes and rushed to your feet. You dug around in your purse, hands shaking so much you could barely undo its clasp. When you finally found your handkerchief you dipped it in the pool and held it out to him.

He glanced towards your outstretched hand and then to your ashamed face in confusion. “You have my lipstick on your lips,” you whispered. He snatched it out of your hand and scrubbed at his face so hard you wouldn’t even be able to make out the lipstick with how red his skin was.

Slowly, and without a word, you both made your way back into the house. The tension was thick, neither of you able to look at each other. You kept an unusual amount of space between you for two people who were always so close. If anyone looked out the door at you right now, well, even Bud Askins would be able to tell something was wrong.

You made it to the glass door and Barb intercepted you. Your heart leapt to your throat. You’d never been more disgusted with yourself. Not only did you kiss this woman’s husband, you had fucking enjoyed it.

In fact, you wished you were out there still. As small a taste you’d gotten of him, you craved more. Your body was on fire with desire, core throbbing when you thought about the way he’d kissed you. You forced yourself to stop imagining what it would be like if he had kissed somewhere else. God, the thought made you burn.

She laughed and gave you an odd look, “You look like you saw a ghost.”

Cooper chuckled and you whipped your head towards him in shock. Not only did he look completely unaffected, but he was smiling at you. You couldn’t look at him long, afraid your face would further give you away. You were a good actress, but not nearly as good as him.

“This one almost accidentally took a dip in our pool,” he and Barb both laughed and you forced yourself to join in.

“Yeah, and I think that might have been enough excitement for me.” You smiled at Barb and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, the taste of her husband still on your lips. “I’m gonna head home. Enjoy the rest of the party.”

Cooper stopped you before you could completely slip away, “I’ll walk you out to your car, honey.” You nodded, not willing to argue in the middle of his crowded home. Still, you didn’t make it easy for him to keep up with you. You were at the door before he could blink, practically flying out of the house.

You probably would have made it all the way to your car without another word if it weren’t for him clasping a hand around your elbow. “We need to talk.”

You shook your head and he let out a disappointed sigh. You already knew what he was going to say, and you agreed wholeheartedly. What had happened tonight was a mistake. Not only were you risking your career but you could ruin his whole life if you continued down this path. As much as you wanted him, as much as you had yearned for him, you couldn’t be so selfish.

But you also couldn’t handle hearing him say that to you. It would break your heart to have to listen to him explain all the reasons you could never be with the man you were so desperately in love with. “I know, Coop, I know.”

His grip tightened on you when you tried to slip away. You set pleading eyes on him, praying he couldn’t see the tears already starting to build. You knew he could, though, when his gaze softened and he eased his grip on you. After another whispered “please” he finally nodded and stepped back from you.

You slipped your arm from his hold and ran to your car. You leapt inside and peeled out of the driveway like the devil was on your tail. And maybe he was, maybe you deserved it. Because you still couldn’t help yourself, glancing in the rear view mirror to see Cooper standing at the end of his driveway, watching you go with a distraught look on his face.

You wiped the tears off your face and turned back towards the road. You could never be with him. You could never love him the way you wanted. You’d have to be satisfied for the rest of your life with the taste you’d gotten tonight. That would be all you would ever allow yourself.

“A fallen star, Cooper Howard has become a reject within Hollywood. Fellow actors and actresses have been refusing to work with him, making it difficult for the former celebrity to find work. Recent reports say he’s been seen at birthday parties more than on set.”

The female reporter shook her head, “Such a shame. We’ve been hearing that this is all due to his former ties with Vault-Tec. Ties which were recently severed in a grisly divorce with ex-wife and Vault-Tec employee, Barb-”

You clicked the TV off, shutting the ridiculous news report up and ran a hand down your face. You hadn’t seen Coop in a few months. After that night at his house, you’d dropped the movies you’d been doing with him and put as much distance between the two of you as you could.

That thought made you feel like the worst piece of shit. You couldn’t have known that Hollywood was going to turn its back on him. You couldn’t have known that nearly two weeks after you cut ties his entire life would go up in flames. You should have been there for him. How you feel about him shouldn’t matter when your friend needs you.

He’d given you everything he could and you couldn’t even be there for him when he needed you. Of course, once you’d heard about the divorce, you’d called up Sebastian. But he had warned you not to try and reach out to Cooper. He seemed to think it would only make things worse. The more you heard, however, the more guilty you felt about not being there for him. Tabloids and gossip columns certaintly hadn’t been kind when the news of his divorce had come out.

They pounced on the opportunity to further rip into his wounds and present them to the world. You glanced down at your couch cushion, the magazine you’d picked up in the store staring back at you. The front was a picture of him walking out of a house, donned in cowboy gear and clearly performing for a children’s party.

You sighed and decided you should finally push aside your pride. You snatched your keys from the hook and headed out the door.

Cooper didn’t seem to believe it was you when he opened the door. His eyes, cloudy and red, narrowed before he frowned and took a step back. “That really you?”

You offered a weak smile and a, “Hi, Coop.”

He scoffed and you could tell he was getting angry. His accent always got a little rougher when he was pissed off. “‘Hi, Coop’,” he mocked, a sneer on his face. “Four months without contact and that’s all you have to say. Fuck off,” he went to close the door but you blocked him with your foot.

It stung, honestly, the cruel way in which he spoke to you. But you knew he could be a lot meaner if he wanted to and it wasn’t as if you didn’t deserve it. You had been a shitty, selfish friend. “I’m sorry, I was just nervous. I just,” you paused, struggling to find the right words to make this any better. He crossed his arms, still refusing to let you into his house. “I called the second I heard, but Sebastian had told me it would be better if I didn’t come.”

His brows furrowed before he glared at you. “So you don’t even fucking call?”

“I was wrong and selfish. Cooper,” you reached out, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, I’m not asking for you to forgive me. I am genuinely so sorry I wasn’t here for you. But I’m here now, if you’ll let me be.”

The next minute was unbearable. You felt too awkward to take your hand off his arm and he refused to speak. He didn’t even blink, just glared at you, the longer the silence went on the more you could feel yourself losing your nerve. Maybe this had been a mistake.

Finally, he sighed and your heart leapt to your throat. “Come in,” he stepped to the side and opened his door up further. You kept your mouth shut and slipped into the house. It seemed to be the only thing he’d been able to hold onto since the divorce.

The door slammed shut behind you and he pushed past you to slip into the living room and throw himself down on the couch. You followed slowly behind him, taking oddly tentative steps, like if you made a noise he would kick you out.

He had his arm thrown over his face, his eyes clenched like he was in pain. You perched yourself on the edge of the chair you usually sat in, feeling oddly uncomfortable. You fidgeted restlessly on the cushion, crossing and uncrossing your legs, tapping your toes against the floor.

It had seemed like such an easy decision to come here half an hour ago. But you hadn’t had a plan and that was really biting you in the ass now. Desperate for anything other than the sound of the fabric underneath you, you blurted out the question that had bothered you for months.

“What happened?”

He sighed, like he’d been expecting it. He sat up slowly, grabbing a glass of brown liquor off the coffee table and taking a swig. He leaned forward on his knees, glaring over at you. “What are you talking about? You’re gonna have to be specific, sweetheart, everything in my life has fallen apart.”

You winced, hating the callous way you’d asked the question. You’d meant to approach the subject more gently, but it wasn’t easy to keep your curiosity contained. “Everything, I guess. Last time I saw you, you were on top of the world. What happened?” You tried to ask your questions as gently as possible, but there really was no use sugarcoating anything.

“Flew too close to the sun and I fell,” he shrugged and sent you a sarcastic smirk. “But I see you’ve been doing great, huh?”

“Not really, I’ve stepped back from taking on any contracts. I would have dropped Nuka-Cola too if their lawyers weren’t so damn good.”

He shrugged, like he didn’t really give a shit about your life or how it was going. This hurt, how he was acting, you’d never seen him like this. He was acting so mean and despondent. “Found out Barb was advocating for nuclear war and Vault-Tec was backing her. Finding out your wife is orchestrating war crimes really puts a wrench in your marriage.”

You wished you could be surprised, but Barb’s odd behavior since joining the company had been obvious to everyone but Cooper. He laughed when he saw the look on your face, “You say ‘I told you so’ and I’ll throw something at you.” You shook your head and sank back in the chair. “Anyway, Vault-Tec dropped me and since everyone in Hollywood hates me that was the last paying job I had. Now, I’m working kid’s parties.” He scoffed and smiled mirthfully, but the hatred in this look was directed at himself. “How the mighty have fallen, right?”

He threw back the rest of his whiskey and slammed the glass back on the table.

“I really am sorry, Coop. I should have been here.”

He didn’t look at you, just shook his head, “No point. If you had been, I would have dragged you down with me. Probably the smartest thing you could have done.” You hated this, it made your heart hurt to see him so down on himself.

This wasn’t the Cooper you knew. This was a man completely broken by what life had thrown at him. You hated this. You hated yourself for not helping him. Hated his wife for abandoning him. You hated the world for so easily turning their back on him like he was nothing to them.

You slipped from the chair and kneeled in front of him. You grabbed his hands in yours, holding on tight when he tried to slip away. “I’m sorry, Coop, truly. I wasn’t here for you. But I am now, I swear. Let me help you, please.”

He glanced down at you and stared quietly, trying to decide whether he should be an asshole and tell you to fuck off or just accept the help. He had been lonely for a long while now. He needed someone to tell him he was doing okay. That he had done the right thing in getting Barb out of his life. So, he nodded and squeezed your hands back.

“Pancakes?”

You laughed and sat up in bed, glancing over at Cooper while he got dressed. “Is that all you know how to make?” He smiled and crawled back onto bed to plant a hard kiss against your lips.

“You want food or not, smartass?”

You laughed and pressed another quick kiss to his lips, “Please.” He shook his head and walked out of his bedroom and towards the kitchen. You sank back against the pillows and stared blankly up at his ceiling.

You wished there was a title to describe what you were to each other, but you weren’t completely sure yourself. A few weeks after you’d stopped by his house you’d slept together for the first time. And then again and again, and you’d taken to staying at his house more than your own apartment.

You’d worried that you were letting yourself be a rebound after his divorce. Afraid that he was simply going to sleep with you and move on once he’d found something better. But he didn’t treat you like you were something to throw away.

But that doesn’t mean anything when he’s never explicitly stated that he wants something serious with you. You sit up when you hear him padding back down the hall, a tray in his hands. You smile at him and help him settle back in bed.

When you’re done eating you both lay back in bed and you figure you don’t need something definitive for now. You’ll just enjoy what you have while you have him. The shrill ring of the phone jolts you both out of your comfortable state.

He sighs and reaches over to grab it from its place on the nightstand. The cord stretches over you while he leans back and talks to whoever is on the other line. “Hello?” His brow furrows in confusion when the other person began to speak. You can make out their muffled voice but not what they’re saying. You give him a questioning look but he just shrugs and hands you the phone. “It’s for you, sweetheart.”

“Hello?”

Cooper watches you with growing confusion as your face lights up and you shoot out of bed. He sighs, knowing his morning is probably over. He figures he should go ahead and get dressed while you finish up the call.

When he comes out of the bathroom you’re still talking. Your finger is coiled through the cord and you’re pacing a track into his rug. You’ve got a serious expression on your face, listening intently, before you light up once more and let out an eager, “Oh, thank you so much!” You slam the phone back down on the dial and turn to him with an eager smile.

“That was Tom, he’s got a role for me.” Cooper shoots you a happy smile but he can’t help the twinge of jealously in his gut. A few weeks ago some pictures of you two together had been leaked. While your career and offered had considerably slowed, you hadn’t been completely stonewalled by all of Hollywood like he had.

He couldn’t help but resent that at moments, that you still got to live your dream while he was punished for doing what he thought had been right. He wouldn’t let that ruin your mood right now, though. “That’s great, what is it?”

You shrugged, going through the room and quickly changing into a long skirt and blouse. “He couldn’t give me many details over the phone. He wants me to head over to his house to pick up the script real quick.” You ran up to him, planted a quick kiss on his cheek and darted towards the hall. “I’ll be back for lunch,” you called over your shoulder.

Cooper sighed, overwhelmed slightly by your whirlwind of energy. He called out a quick goodbye he wasn’t sure you heard and tried to ignore the nauseating feeling settling in his stomach.

You stared up at Tom’s door, knocking quickly. You were the perfect picture of naïveté, wide-eyed and eager as you waited for him to open the door. When Tom wasn’t directing Nuka-Cola ads he directed only serious movies. The type that only critics liked.

Getting another serious role could really help in getting you back on track. Maybe you could even start helping Coop out, he was going to have to sell the house soon if he didn’t make real money.

The smile on your lips was hard to dismiss as you impatiently waited for the door to open. It didn’t take much longer, you could hear Tom approaching through it and then it was swinging open. He had a wide smile and seemed oddly breathless as he stared at you. “There you are! Come on in, I’ll grab the script.”

Not thinking much of the odd invitation you took a step inside and glanced around. You heard voices in the next room and your smile dropped just a little. “Come on,” he waved you forward when he noticed you had stopped, “I’ll get you something to drink.”

“Oh,” you took a hesitant step forward. “I’m fine, really, I need to get back home pretty quick.” Tom stopped in his tracks and turned around. The look on his face had your hairs standing on end, both of your smiles completely gone now.

“I said come in.” You tried to back up but your back hit something soft. Jumping forward, you turned to find one of the tallest men you’d ever seen towering over you. He pushed forward and you stumbled back, starting to feel real panic settle in.

He kept pushing until you found yourself standing in the middle of a crowded living room. Execs you recognized from meetings with your agent and premieres circled around you like a pack of hyenas. Each of them tittering and laughing, pointing at you with a dangerous gleam in their eyes.

You felt tears pricking your eyes, your gaze darting up to Tom. But he refused to look at you, accepting a large wad of cash from one man and shaking his hand. He spared you one brief glance, a distant regret in his eyes as he walked out the room.

You spun in a quick circle, breaths coming short and fast when the men started to close in on you. One of them grabbed you and you threw your elbow back into his face, it didn’t matter. They were all reaching for you now. Hands snagged on your blouse and the buttons popped open.

You opened your mouth, to scream or bite one of them, you don’t know, it didn’t matter. A large hand clamped around your mouth, forcing you to breathe in the cloth on their palm. You sucked in a sharp breath, something sweet tickling your nose before your eyes were rolling back in your head.

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout tv series #fallout x reader #ghoul x reader

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bikekit789 · 11 months ago

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Smart Helmet with Camera | Bikekit

Top 5 Challenges of the riders and their solutions

Benjamin Franklin, founding father of the United States of America, said that out of adversity comes opportunity. It is true that the global spread of Covid-19 is that adversity and the innovative business ideas that have come up are opportunities for growth and empowerment. In the logistics and food business it peaked at a time when technology made it possible to order food and simultaneously pay for it online. Around this time the concept of Last Mile delivery riders also gained ground, who delivered food, groceries, medicines or documents at stipulated times.

Today the streets are dotted with riders racing to deliver food, grocery, medicines or documents, and to deliver on time. The rash driving often makes one wonder about their personal safety on the road. BikeKit, a leader in the Last Mile delivery segment has created innovative products keeping in mind their safety which makes them a must-have for establishments.

Life-saving helmets

Made by Korean designers BikeKit’s smart helmet with a camera is definitely more than a helmet – it is a life saver. The helmet comes with in-built sensors that ensure a correct fit and has safety features that can detect head-on collisions. In the case of an accident it has the SOS system which makes use of the rider’s smartphone to automatically call emergency services. Since the riders drive a minimum of 100 kms every day, they are susceptible to accidents and hence need to be protected. The good part is that staff in the control room can see and track the rider’s travel journey.

Protective driving accessories

It is true that a two wheeler is a dangerous vehicle as it exposes one to the elements of nature as well as poor drivers. But it is also true that there is no alternative as far as delivery is concerned. Hence BikeKit suggests that riders wear a smart helmet with a visor to avoid the cold, windblast and flying objects; gloves to protect the hands; elbow guards to soften any fall; jacket and pants to protect against sunburn and road rash; boots to protect feet and ankles and give a good grip on the foot pegs; and knee guards to minimize injury.

LED panels connect to IoT

There are times when the rider is reluctant to switch on the LED panel lights of the LED food delivery box as it is a cost to them. Hence BikeKit is working on creating an automated control system wherein the LED panels will automatically connect to IoT and be pre-programmed to function as per requirement. In this way the rider will not be able to switch it off by himself therefore ensuring his own safety and visibility on dimly lit roads, and also achieving the purpose of branding. As a precautionary measure, the fleet manager will also be able to conduct a remote diagnosis and fix a panel that is not working effectively.

BikeKit is on the road to success whether it is by way of its food delivery bags and boxes or accessories for a rider’s safety. It would make infinite sense to pay heed to their advice.

#smart helmet with camera #food delivery box

#Smart Helmet with Camera

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ice-man-goes-bwoah · 6 months ago

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Carlos sains in a relationship with driver!male reader who's one of those people you just can't get mad at, like he's smart but has the emotional comprehension of a over excited puppy, point is that after a really bad race for reader, like 2 laps away from winning only for your hydraulics to snap (or something of the like i have no idea whats viable on those car's) and he's still all happy go luck because he's really only in raceing for the fun of it, considers it more of a hobbie, the drivers on the other hand in their interviews mention that reader has their condolences for that race cause if it were them theu probably would have raged hard, but the only thing reader did was ask if the other drivers were okay and that none of the parts that might have fallen from his car hindered anyone and carlos is like so proud reader handled things comes to him for cuddles cause it was still a shit race even if reader didn't care for the results.

Unshakable sunshine|| Carlos sainz x Male!Reader

Word count 627

The paddock was abuzz with post-race chaos. Journalists scrambled for interviews, cameras zoomed in on exhausted drivers, and teams analyzed every second of the race. Among all the noise, one story stood out: your near-victory-turned-DNF. With only two laps to go, your hydraulics failed, forcing you to limp off the track.

For most drivers, it would’ve been a career-shattering moment. The adrenaline, the effort, the sheer heartbreak of coming so close, only for it all to fall apart. But you? You were smiling.

After climbing out of the car, you walked straight to your team, offering reassuring pats on backs and a thumbs-up to the engineers. By the time you reached the media pen, you looked like you’d just finished a leisurely Sunday drive.

“It happens, right?” you told reporters with a grin. “Racing’s unpredictable. I just hope none of the parts from my car got in anyone’s way. Last thing I’d want is to mess up someone else’s race!”

Your unshakable positivity left everyone stunned. Max Verstappen, in his post-race interview, shook his head in disbelief. “If that happened to me, I’d probably throw my helmet across the garage. But him? He’s just smiling. I don’t get it, but honestly, I respect it.”

Charles Leclerc chimed in during his segment, laughing softly. “He’s like… the golden retriever of Formula 1. I’d be fuming, and he’s out here checking if everyone else is okay. I think we all need some of whatever he’s got.”

But Carlos knew you better than anyone. He could see the subtle signs—the extra-long hug you gave your engineer, the way your shoulders sagged slightly when you thought no one was watching. You never liked showing frustration, and you’d perfected the art of brushing off disappointment. But Carlos wasn’t fooled.

He waited in your motorhome, pacing slightly as he thought about how to approach you. When you finally walked in, the mask was still up.

“Hey, Carlos!” you greeted cheerfully, dropping your bag by the door. “Did you see that race? Wild, right? Shame about the hydraulics, but hey, at least I got to watch the last two laps from the best seat in the house!”

Carlos didn’t say anything right away, watching as you flopped onto the couch and kicked off your shoes. You were smiling, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Cariño,” he said softly, sitting beside you. “How are you really feeling?”

You blinked, caught off guard by his gentle tone. “I’m fine. Really! It’s just a race. There’s always next time.”

He gave you a look—a mix of disbelief and affection. “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know.”

Your smile wavered for a moment before you sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Okay, maybe it sucks a little. But not for the reason you think! I’m more annoyed that I couldn’t finish because I was really having fun out there. That’s what matters, right? Having fun?”

Carlos chuckled softly, reaching out to pull you into his arms. “You amaze me, you know that? Anyone else would’ve been furious, but you… you’re just happy to be here. It’s one of the reasons I love you.”

You relaxed against him, letting out a soft laugh. “Thanks, Carlos. I mean it. I guess… yeah, it does sting a bit, but I don’t race to win. I race because it’s fun. That’s why I’m here.”

His arms tightened around you, his voice low and tender. “And that’s why I’m so proud of you. But just because you don’t let it show doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. So tonight, it’s all about cuddles. No arguments.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, grinning again. “Cuddles do sound nice.”

“They fix everything,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

#formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #faiths inbox #f1 x male reader #formula one x male reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x male reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz one shot

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lilacgaby · 10 months ago

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Firstly I wanna say I love your writing and although I’m very new to your page I’m OBSESSED 🤩

This is my first request ever so I hope I’m doing this correctly. ANYWAYS- I was hoping for like an ice hockey au where it’s like bakugou playing midoroya’s team and bakugou doesn’t like the way deku is looking at reader in the stands even though bakugou and readers relationship isn’t public and they fight and all that good stuff.

Thanks I totally appreciate you! Hope you’re well and have a great day!!

title: iced out.

pairing: hockeyplayer!bakugo x girlfriend!reader

"he'll need an ice pack when i'm done with him."

note: my love you're so smart omgg, i loved this au! ty for the support i hope this is a good read <3

it was the match up of the season.

everyone knew of the rivalry between bakugo and midoriya, every match they'd have would end in shoves, bloodied noses, bruises, and cards called. the audience was thankful for the dividers that kept them safe from the confrontations that would always break out in corners, bakugo usually pushing midoriya away forcefully into them just to get control of the puck.

you were there at that match for katsuki after the matches, waiting outside the locker rooms to drive home. you knew first hand just how much he wanted to win against midoriya. he'd confessed to you how they used to be close friends, but after midoriya 'lied' about getting excepted into an overseas junior team, he had been ostracized from katsuki's life.

they hadn't faced each other since last season, the bracket hadn't allowed for it. until today.

you, katsuki's girlfriend since before he got drafted into a team, were pepping him up before the first interval. his teammates already knew about you, but the public didn't.

katsuki preferred in this way, he thought. saying "those damn publicists would shove cameras and mics down our throats if they knew." you didn't mind either way, the bile of jealousy at every woman who thought they had a chance with katsuki going away after multiple times of him cursing them out.

katsuki had never had to experience that though, not until today.

you were in the stands, the front row of one of the many sections in the rink. it was a full house today, but you stood out because of your limited edition jersey given to you by katsuki himself.

while the practice period was going on, he was calming himself down. his coach had told him that a clear head is all he needed to beat midoriya into a pulp, or something like that. 'easy shit.' he thought.

but like a shark who smelled blood, his pupils dilated severely as he saw him throwing a puck to you. you caught it, raising your hand to thank him and you let an appreciative smile, flipping it over to see his number on the back of it (how did he even write that?). at your shocked expression, he laughed.

and he had the audacity to make a phone sign with his hand after?

oh, he was gonna need to call someone once bakugo was done with him, he was sure of it.

the promise of calm was gone as fast as it came, an impossibly angrier katsuki coming back as he finished warm ups.

at the sound of the timer, katsuki played aggressive. the first 20 minutes was full of this mentally. he was rushing in and hitting, shoving anyone in his way. he 'accidentally' launched the puck into midoriya's helmet at the fifteen minute mark.

the teams managed to stay even though, but katsuki was scoring a majority of the points for his team. the only thing in his way was midoriya, like always.

midoriya, who kept his eyes locked on you while the puck wasn't in play. who kept waving to his fans, but sending winks to you.

katsuki had decided to murder him. or rather, his team.

he hit another puck in easily, already having the game be the highest scoring one in the league for the year. midoriya managed to match one up again, barely keeping on his heels.

the score was now 5-5, katsuki wanted to finish it in this interval. going into a sudden death overtime would just be too tiring.

they were tied again with only 2 minutes left on the clock. all it took was midoriya to eye you again, that was enough to spite bakugo.

with a minute left he finally got control of the puck, as midoriya got in his way. katsuki predicted a fake out, and sent the puck flying with a curve.

as the keeper missed, and with 3 seconds left.

he scored.

the arena cheered, the cameras caught on midoriya's smirk and small claps, the pissed off looks from midoriya's teammates, and the celebration of katsuki's team.

they had to play again to let the puck slide for 3 seconds, out of courtesy, but katsuki took a victory lap, looking straight at you.

the second he was free he walked straight through the rink, much to his manager's dismay. this caught the attention of the media, who had all eyes on him. he saw none of it, passing by fans without a care in the world as he grabbed your face and kissed you, making you drop the puck.

midoriya was seen with an 'ohhh' expression on his face as the rink went crazy, flashes all in your faces as katsuki pulled back, hips lips now smeared with your lip gloss. you two were on the jumbotron, and you awkwardly waved as the attention was focused on you two suddenly.

"didn't i tell you so? these losers are breathing down our throats."

"yeah, oh my god kats' your eye!" you gasped as you saw the bruise starting to form over his eye.

he wore a stupid smirk on his face as you fussed over him. his eyes squinted as he saw the rival team give themselves 'good luck next times' and 'we'll get em back's. midoriya in particular was being the captain as always, cheering up his team though occasionally looking back at you. katsuki sneered, he won the game and the girl! take that deku.

"why do you have that dumbass look on your face?"

"hah?! my face isn't dumb woman!"

#i've never watched or played a game of hockey in my life i am a tropical gal #lilac asks❤︎︎#this ask was so fun!!#bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski #bakugo x you #bakugo fluff #katsuki x you #katsuki x y/n #mha x you #bakugo drabble #bakugo oneshot #katsuki x reader

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 2 years ago

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Ok but imagine 42! Miles with a s/o who's literally the complete opposite of him in terms of aesthetic but she helps him when he's the prowler. Like nobody would expect the sweet, energetic, girl with the "Mabel pines" energy to be the gal in the chair for the prowler and making his weapons and at the same time being his girlfriend. They're a literal force to be reckon with.

Complete opposites but totally work

(I love this and so sorry it took so long but enjoy!)

Mabel Pines!Reader

You guys work very, very well together

I can't even describe it very well but it's like yin and yang

He was absolutely gobsmacked on how smart you actually could be

Because not mean, he thought of you as a sort of airhead for a while

But he actually found it quite cute or adorable on you

But he did find out very quickly that y'all have very, very different aesthetics

To be frank you look like a rainbow threw up on you

While Miles is all gloomy and dark over there

So safe to say you throw some glitter in him and force him to be colorful

He finds it hard sometimes to keep up with your energy

But it good for him

His mama absolutely LOVES you

She sees how much Miles loves you just due to the light you bring into his eyes

You can give this man anything and he will pretend to not like it but raise hell if you try and take it back

You guys proudly watch the news of worried women and men on TV talking about jobs you guys pulled and tryna catch you guys

Y'know those sassy guys we see in Tiktoks?

He's that sassy guy with you when you make him mad or annoyed

Knees facing the other way with his whole body while he side eyes you

But he can't resist you for very long

He actually was quite shocked when he found out you had a little dark side

He always saw you looking on the bright side of things

So you partaking in his Prowler activities, much less MAKING the shit for them, absolutely shocked him

He found it quite hot though I can't lie

You're absolutely right when you're completely different but work so well together

Even Uncle Aaron saw it

He uses you sometimes as a little diversion

A fake damsel in distress might I say

He never actually puts you in danger a you can very much so handle yourself but he's always lurking around the corner in these situations

You are an absolute monster at anything Miles needs

New gloves? Done

New mask? Done

Fucking Ray gun? Why didn't he ask sooner? Here, it's in your bag

You absolutely stick little stickers on his crap as well

You can't help yourself

But he absolutely loves it

You sit in the chair looking all pretty but can turn intimidating real quick as he's sitting on the arm chair

Y'know those scenes where the bad guy asks their "dumb/weird" henchman like

"I have no idea…how about we ask (Name)?"

Those type of scenes and you can come up with the best shit he didn't even think of

Absolutely soul mates

Anyway, enjoy this little scene I made:

Miles breathed heavily, leaning against the wall on the rooftop to the door to go back down to his home. He was dressed as the Prowler, breathing labored from a fight.

Miles tried to breathe the best he could, even succeeding for a moment before his eyes snapped open as he heard the shudder of a phone camera and a flash.

Miles' eyes widened, hand in front of him as the flash died and he saw you standing there, blank faces and camera held out in front of you.

Miles and you stared at one another for a moment, nothing to say at all.

"Is that carbon fiber?" You suddenly spoke up.

"...what?-" Miles blinked, barely able to process this before you almost jumped on him.

"Ooh! How did you make this?!" Miles couldn't even breathe and before he knew, his helmet was in your hands as you went on.

"This material is tough enough but you know I could make a much better one if-" you rambles on, an excitement to your voice Miles knew all to well as you flipped over the mask in your hands

"Wait– hold on." Miles held his arms out, effectively causing a pause in your rant as you stared back at him.

"Y'know who I am…right?" Miles asked, slowly and almost trying to be intimidating.

"Um…the Prowler?" You muttered, utterly confused as you tilted your head, holding the helmet to your chest.

"Yeah?!" Miles exclaimed, eyes wide and hands held out like he was trying to get a point across.

"Mhm. Is this like…a trick question, or…?" You asked, completely unbothered by it all as you looked down at the mask, examining it as you merely glanced up at him.

"No! Just- why are you so calm about this?" Miles asked, shocked as well.

"Well, it's not really shocking. You sorta have the backstory of a villain, anyway." You shrugged, staring dead at him.

"...seriously?"

"Well, kinda. Sorry, is this like a bad time for you?" You asked, still not handing over the mask as you held it over your head, almost trying to put it on.

"No, just, you can't tell anyone about this." Miles said, grabbing the mask to hold it in place and off your head, almost dangerously close to your face.

"I mean, I'm not? But-" you started and Miles almost rolled his eyes at your excited expression.

"I can help you!" You stated, biting your lip in excitement as you almost glowed from the glitter on you.

"Help…me?" Miles raised a brow.

"Yeah! Everyone thinks I'm dumb, but I have dirt on everyone. Everyone. And, not a lotta people notice I'm there so I can get you a lot of info, or like- routes and stuff. I'm also good with my hands."

You went on proudly, Miles looking between you and your hand which held his helmet.

It took a moment, Miles going over it all in his head.

He finally sighed.

Miles opened the door to the stairwell, gesturing inside as your eyes widened in shock before you actually smiled, hurrying inside quickly as you rambled on.

Miles followed after you, a seemingly annoyed expression on his face, but the dust of pink across his cheeks from your smile gave him away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@mushystrawberries @sweetheartlizzie07 @itstooearly-its3am @Ihavetoexist @kaorussgf @samsketchezz @yas-v @lovelymiaablogss @sussybaka10 @shisuishoe @sairavity @moonlight-rosevine @spectr3inl0ve @najiiix @popeheywardssecretgf @onginlove @sylisan @onginlove

#across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spider verse x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #into the spiderverse x reader #miles morales earth 42 x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader

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tsuvvy · 1 year ago

Text

Oh Sister of Mine - Chapter 1

Your Chance

The Batfamily is getting intel and weapons back from a dangerous villain. But he had a bodyguard. A child bodyguard who didn't really seem interested in their task of guarding the villain. You seemed more interested in killing Cassandra.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, talk of killing, talk of weapons, use of weapons, use of electricity in fighting, cussing, ik Jason and Damian are skilled and can adapt to many different types of fighters, but for the sake of this, they were caught extremely off guard..

Word Count: 3.1k

You looked down at your palms, letting the volts of electricity flicker and surge around your hands. You let out a breath.

This was your one chance. Your one chance to prove to your dad that you weren't a failure. You could kill. You could kill more efficiently and quickly than Cassandra ever could. And you could do it in cold blood, unlike Cassandra who was left disgusted with her first kill.

And you would prove it by killing her.

The moon was bright in the sky, just as the bat symbol was. You stared at it through the window with a kind of hope most didn't have. The hope that you would kill someone that answers to the bat symbol in the sky.

You struggled with speech. You grew up sheltered, only being taught to kill from the moment you were put on the ground to crawl. You were a lot alike to Cassandra. But you were a quick learner. You could quickly pick up on the speech of others, and the body language to decipher a little bit of what the words might mean in different situations.

The words you knew were a small amount that you couldn't get out of your mouth without a bit of struggle.

“No, that Cain guy sent this kid,” you glanced over your shoulder to look at the desk behind you where a man in a nice suit sat. He was lazing around in his chair, his legs kicked up on the desk as he looked at you. You remember your dad calling him Kerrim. Kerrim didn't realize you were looking back, “one creepy ass kid,” he added the remark onto his statement from before. “He said they're one of the best, but I won't buy it till I see it.” He smirked in doubtful amusement.

Orphan, Red Hood, and Robin worked diligently to avoid the cameras of the building and avoid guards that walked around.

Though it wasn't easy.

“I wasn't expecting the guard to be so high up..” Red Hood grumbled, peeking around the corner at a few guards that were speaking in the hallway.

“And what did you expect?” Robin grumbled back, looking up at the man, “That this guy was dumb? No. Someone can't make it this high up into the drug business by being dumb.” He sent a scowl at Red Hood from behind his domino mask.

“Aww, did you just call me smart?” Red Hood smirked from behind his helmet, looking down at Robin.

“Focus.” Orphan reminded the two, “We have to take the guards out, we can't get past them any other way..”

“On it.” Red Hood said.

“Wait-” Red Hood was already turning the corner, immediately alerting the guards to his presence.

“Huh.. Guess someone can get up the drug business by being dumb.” Robin remarked as he watched around the corner with Orphan.

“Intruder!” One of the guards had yelled into his walkie talkie clipped to the breast pocket of his vest. “Intruder in sector G!”

Red Hood was fighting with the other guard. Knocking him off of his feet by kicking under his legs and knocking him unconscious by kicking him in the head.

“Shit!” Red Hood yelled when alarms started going off and red lights started flashing everywhere.

Orphan and Robin looked to the camera above their head they had been in the blind spot of. It was now angled directly towards them.

‘What did you idiots do!?’ Tim yelled through the coms in their ears.

Red Hood had started fighting with the other guard, having a bit of trouble before Orphan rushed forward.

“‘You idiots?’ It was Red Hood!” Robin retorted back into the coms as he too moved around the corner.

Orphan had rushed past Red Hood and landed a flurry of well calculated hits and kicks to the guard. One of the kicks that sent him colliding into the wall knocked him out as well. He slid against the wall falling to the floor.

The three looked down the hall at the sounds of footsteps. Many of them.

“You are an imbecile. An imbecile!” Robin yelled at Red Hood before he turned around the corner again, already running down the hall before Red Hood and Orphan followed.

“Well sorry I was taking initiative!” Red Hood yelled at the kid in annoyance.

“In here!” Orphan called, beckoning the two into a room that looked to be for something like storage. It was big and barren enough to hear an echo.

“They went this way!” The three stopped in the middle of the room, turning to look at the door in anticipation when the guard had yelled that. They expected anyone to walk in at any moment. But they heard a group of bounding footsteps pass the door.

Your head whipped around at the flashing red lights and the alarms sounding throughout the whole building.

“Shit!” Kerrim screamed, jumping out of his seat in an instant, his hands on the desk. “How the hell did they get in without getting noticed!?”

You were practically already at the door. “Hey!” He screamed at you, “Where the hell are you going!!?” But you didn’t respond. You didn’t even acknowledge you. “Get back here, you little rat!!” And you were out the door.

“Damnit!” Kerrim slammed his hands against the desk before whipping around and kicking his swivel chair, which went rolling. His kick barely did anything to the chair. “Cain said you were one of the best!” He yelled after you. Or.. More at the door you had just exited through. “But the best know how to follow orders!”

Kerrim started pacing around the room, grumbling and screaming frustrated curses that also held anxiety for the situation with intruders in the building.

All you could think about was the chance you had just gained. You knew it was her. Or at least someone from the accursed Batman vigilante group. But even if it wasn’t Cassandra. You could get her attention by killing another she cared for.

This is your chance

You have to take it while you have it.

You can't pass this up.

Despite not expecting to meet the intruders almost right outside Kerrim’s office, just down the wide hall. Neither looked to be Cassandra to your disappointment. But you recognized them to be Robin and Red Hood. People affiliated with her.

The three had taken a moment to regroup and catch their breaths before they had slipped out of the storage room door and listened to Tim’s directions to get to Kerrim's office.

Red Hood and Robin froze at the sight of you, but you had already unsheathed your sword with the swiftness and speed equivalent to that of a bird's. They weren't expecting a kid to come out of Kerrim’s office. Especially not a kid that looked to be the same age or younger than Robin.

“What the hell!!?” He screamed, just barely dodging the slashes of your swords. Robin had unsheathed his own sword, raising it and bringing it down to attack you. But you ricocheted the attack, blocking it and throwing the direction of his sword in another before you raised your leg, kicking him in the side and sending him colliding with a wall.

“Who in the hell is this kid!?” Red Hood shrieked, dodging slice after slice of your attacks. For a little kid, you were extremely strong, agile, and obviously professionally trained in fighting. Well enough to be able to have a chance at winning a fight with a grown man twice your size and a boy trained to be an assassin since birth.

‘Their fighting style's familiar..’ Tim muttered into the com. ‘Wait, where did Orphan go?’

You let the electricity conduct into the grip of the sword. It didn’t take too long for it to travel up into the blade, starting to wrap around it. Red Hood raised his gun up, having the intention to use it to block the slice of your sword. But he hadn't expected it to cut through. He felt a shock in his arm, and soon it went numb and tingly for a moment. The half of his gun he still held fell from his hand and collided to the ground.

He jumped back, staring at you from behind his helmet in shock.

The electricity in your sword had traveled into his gun and then his hand to produce the effect that it did.

“Red Hood, are you okay!?” He heard through the coms in his ears.

“Cassandra..” You spoke in a somewhat shaky and strained voice, like you were struggling to speak. “Where.. Is she?” Your voice, apart from the struggle it took to find the words, was somewhat muffled due to the cloth of the mask you wore over your mouth.

“What..?” Red Hood asked, confused. The struggle you had with your speech took him aback.

“Where..” You swallowed, “where is Cassandra.”

Red Hood was at a loss for words. He was confused on how a kid like you that appeared out of nowhere was so skilled with a sword and a power as adept as electricity. He knew children could be good fighters, Cassandra and Robin being prime examples. But you? Something was different about you. Your fighting style was familiar, just like Tim had noticed. But the other thing was.

“How do you know Cassandra?” Robin spoke coldly behind you. Yeah.. That was what Red Hood had been getting to.

You didn't respond, which caused Robin’s brows to furrow and his eyes to narrow on you behind his domino mask.

“Fine, I'll say it again. How do you know who Cassandra is?” His voice was more stern, growing a venom in it that could kill like a Cobra’s.

“Where is she?” Your voice still held that shake and struggle in it.

Something about you reminded Robin of someone. But he couldn't place his finger on who.

Neither of the two watching you noticed the way you were charging up a surge of electricity within your hand. Neither noticed it before you were throwing your arm out towards Robin, shooting it at him.

Robin was caught off guard. He hadn't been expecting you to be able to charge up your ability so quickly. He couldn't move quick enough to dodge it.

Just before it touched his middle, he was being tackled from the side. He looked up in surprise at Orphan.

She was already standing up, directing her attention to you.

“I’m right here,” She told you.

Your eyes widened somewhat, and you turned to look at her better. You couldn’t believe it. There she is. And not in some old picture or low quality one your father had managed to get someone to take. It was her in front of you in the flesh.

You’re taking your chance.

Red Hood lurched forward, thinking your attention was fully on Orphan. Though it wasn’t. You had made sure to keep both Robin and Red Hood in your peripheral vision. A surge of electricity started to travel through your arm before getting to your hand. The surging light seemed to wrap around your arm and now your hand as it traveled. Your palm collided with his stomach. Your touch seemed more gentle, but the powerful shock that seemed equivalent to a defibrillator shocked Red Hood’s insides. He stumbled backward.

His limbs felt numb, the room was spinning, he couldn’t focus and his whole body was in pain.

“Red Hood!” Robin and Cassandra cried, so did Tim within the coms. Red Hood stumbled a bit more.

Your attention was already back on Cassandra. You held your sword in both hands, rushing forward and slicing at the black haired vigilante. She moved quickly, you couldn’t deny it. Quicker than the first two did. Though you could tell you had only caught Robin off guard, you knew he could fight better. But that didn’t matter. Now Cassandra is here. Now she is your priority.

Again, she was quick. She dodged your countless attacks you threw at her with your sword. Robin had gone to Red Hood’s side, checking his pulse.

You swung your sword, but Cassandra slipped under it and rushed forward. Your eyes widened as you saw her hand was going for a pressure point in your wrist, crap. No.. It’s okay. You’re fine. You were trained just like her, if not better. And you have an advantage.

You threw your sword to the side, it was the only option so you could keep control of your hands. If you held onto it, she would have paralyzed your wrists for as long as she felt necessary. Electricity surged and wrapped around your calf, traveling down to your foot. You pushed backwards with that foot, putting your weight on the leg you didn’t have electricity rushing through. You raised your foot, kicking Cassandra with a strength that could knock down one of the heavier training dummies at the Manor’s gym.

Cassandra couched, stumbling backwards for a moment while holding her side you had kicked. She had winced in pain, closing an eye tightly to somehow deal with it. Her side was throbbing, and she knew the electricity had traveled into her arms and legs because she could feel her fingertips throbbing, and her legs had felt weak for a second. But, she recovered quickly. The two of you looked at each other, in some sort of a stand off like you see in those western movies. But two of you were now fighting hand to hand.

“Orphan,” Robin called from the side, Red Hood had recovered some, being able to stand now. But he still looked a bit disoriented.

“Go,” Cassandra said, “I can handle this.”

Robin and Red Hood listened, heading towards the door behind them. You didn’t care. Again, Cassandra is your priority, not them.

“Right.” Robin said, going towards the door. You didn't care about protecting Kerrim. It's not like he meant anything to you. Plus, your father will be proud when you kill Cassandra. Far prouder than if you kept some random drug lord alive.

You lurched forward, immediately catching her attention again. You threw a kick at her which she had dogged and you ducked under the punch she sent at you. You winced when she kicked your side and you caught her leg. You pulled it forward roughly, also pulling Cassandra towards you and let go of her leg; you punched her in the face. Your fist collided with her jaw.

Cassandra ignored the slight pain radiating within her cheek and threw her arms out forward and around you. She wrapped her arms around your middle tightly. You tried to push against her, but she was strong. Stronger than you were really expecting. She pushed you forward until your back hit against the wall of the wide hallway roughly. It hurt and knocked the wind out of you, but you recovered quickly. You raised up your own leg and kicked the heel of the boot you wore into Cassandra’s abdomen. She stumbled backwards, holding her abdomen with one arm, and the other arm was at her side.

She looked at you with a wince on her face, her jaw clenched. You rushed forward and started sending electrified punches and kicks at her, but she dodged them all, some just barely. But she dodged them all.

You were growing more and more frustrated. And with that, your attacks just grew more and more aggressive.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked as she blocked a kick of your’s with her forearm. She couldn’t see your whole face because of the mask you were wearing to at least hide the bottom half of your face. But she could see your eyes. And she saw the way your brows furrowed. She recognized it. She recognized the dim look on your face. She realized it was the one she used to have when she was about your age.

She realized you couldn't understand what she was saying. She felt a pain of empathy fall through her body, landing in her stomach.

You had no idea what she was saying. It sounded like gibberish. But you could tell she was holding back. She wasn’t fighting as well as she could have. Your father made you watch videos of how Cassandra fought when she was your age. She was incredibly skilled, you knew that. And how she was fighting now was that you’ve seen from a novice from the League of Assassins.

Your father realized not long after you grew more of a consciousness for yourself that you had a short temper. You get frustrated easily. And he also realized your meta human ability might be tied with your emotions. You and your electricity got stronger, more relentless, and faster.

And Cassandra had noticed this too. She was amazed with you. You were so young, no older than 14 or maybe 13 and you were already so in control of your abilities. And you were quick. Very quick.

You were about to high kick her in the side of her head, but you made a mistake. You slipped. The foot you put all of your weight on slipped on the ground. Your eyes widened. Cassandra grabbed your wrists and decided on falling with you.

You winced when your back hit the ground roughly. You felt your head knock against the ground roughly as well. Her forearm was against your neck, and she had both of your wrists pinned to the ground above your head. You felt one of her knees pressing firmly against your abdomen, and her other foot was on the ground next to you both, holding her up.

You felt your head pounding, and your eyes grew heavy, no doubt because of it’s collision with the ground. You looked around. Your vision was mixed with spots of different sizes as you looked at the walls and dim lights on the cieling that seemed greatly bright now. Soon, your gaze landed on the woman above you.

Cassandra. Crap.. Cassandra had you pinned to the ground. You need to get up. You need to fight. You need to kill her. You can’t lose, not like this when you’re so close to your mission.

You tried to push against her grip on your wrists, and you tried to push your abdomen up to maybe push her knee off of you, but it wasn’t any use. You were too weak, and you were too tired.

The most you could was charge up a weak volt of electricity into your arms and send them up to your wrists. All Cassandra felt was a tiny shock like static shock from a door or clothing.

Then everything went black..

Chapter Two ->

722 notes · View notes

moonlitcelestial · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 4

Beyond the Lens - Logbook Videographer!Reader x Poly OT8 Ateez

W/C 3,252

🎥 Series Masterlist 🎥

☽ Masterlist ☾

Inspiration Pictures

Pinterest Board Masterlist

Previous Chapter (Chapter 3)

Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction. It is not meant to assume or mock anything about Ateez, Atiny, or anything relating to what I do not know about being a videographer. I will be attempting to keep it as gender neutral as possible but it will have she/her pronouns.

The logo in the center is mine. Please do not reuse or copy.

I strongly recommend looking at the inspiration pictures and Pinterest board (which will be updating as the story goes on).

Warnings: cussing, conflict, possible angst, fluff, and obliviousness. This list will be updated as the story goes on.

Thanks for reading <3 Moonie

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

The next morning you woke up 20 minutes before your alarm. After yesterday you crashed out as soon as your head hit the pillow but your sleep was restless. The giants crowded you on the bed, which made you happy you had a king sized bed. They took up more space than you do.

“Come on child, I love you too, but I need to get up.” You muttered sleepily to Toothless who has learned that your alarm means you have to get up. When he hears it he always has to crawl up to you and get as close as possible to your face and purr. You have gotten to where you set it for about five minutes earlier than you need to get up to let him get in some cuddle time, as if he didn’t get enough. Sometimes he misses the mark by about thirty minutes but it is the thought that counts. You lightly shoved him off of you as you swung your legs off of the bed you grabbed your glasses before standing up and stretching. Today was going to be gorgeous and you knew that I would be a great riding day. The team also has to bring supplies over too so riding your motorcycle would be good for reserving a spot. You meandered into the walk-in closet. Looking around you decided what you wanted to wear and grabbed your high waisted buckle embellished pants, and one of the nice low cut, but not too low cut, blouses and your favorite leather jacket.

After getting your shit together you messaged the team that you would meet them at the studio. You put on your shitkickers and grabbed your helmet, yelling at the giants that you would be home later and that you love them. You walked around your Cadillac to your all black Yamaha R6 motorcycle, that you affectionately called Ink. You threw your leg over it, took off your glasses to put on the helmet, put on your helmet, opened the visor to put them back on, and slapped down the visor. You started it up and made sure your Bluetooth was connected to your helmet so you could have some music on the ride.

You pulled into the small lot next to your building and parked next to Aurora's car. You got off and headed to the door making your way into your studio flipping your visor up in the process. Forrest opened the door with his back carrying out some of the things you would need for the day. You held it open and said, “hi,” startling him. He almost dropped the box that he was carrying, which would have been a very expensive accident. He whipped around and let out a breath when he realized it was just you.

“Holy shit man you scared me!” He looked you up and down and smiled.

“You're slaying today, totally badass.” You walked with him to the back of Willow's car. You guys always loaded things in her vehicle because she had the most room. You opened the trunk for him and smiled as he threw his arm around you in a half hug.

“My camera and things are ready to go upstairs, so whenever you guys have what you need we can head out. I brought Ink today so we could minimize the space we take up and maximize space for storage by only having three of us in the car.”

“Smart cookie, we only have our personal cameras and laptops to go, all of the big things are in the car already.” He responded.

“Great. I will go grab my bag and we can head out then!” You skipped to the front door and ran through the studio to grab what you needed. Thankfully you thought ahead and packed your bag yesterday. Once you grabbed the bag you walked back downstairs to meet the team.

“Everything is packed and ready to go," Aurora said excitedly, throwing her arms around your shoulder from behind. “We finally get to see KQ in person and not on a screen! I am so excited, I cannot wait to see what our setup could look like and I cannot wait to see the boys in their natural habitat.” She rambled. You squeezed the hand that was thrown over your shoulder. She always rambled when she was nervous and anxious. You noticed that she also tended to crave skinship then too. She smiled at you and let go of you so she could head to the backseat of Willow’s SUV. Forrest was already parked in the passenger seat.

Willow walked out last. “Good morning sunshine,” you said to her. She was always grumpy in the morning even when it was a later morning like today. She looked at you and raised her travel coffee cup in greeting. You giggled and walked off to your bike, you started down the road after getting your glasses situated, flipping your visor down, and giving Willow a thumbs up.

After a few minutes you reached the parking garage for KQ. It was a decent size. You pulled up to a spot that was fairly close to one of the doors. You had made it a little bit ahead of Willow. You sat in the middle of the spot so you could reserve it for your team. You flipped up the visor, and took off your glasses. Once you finished your little glasses routine you shook out your braided hair making sure it wasn't tucked into anything.

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

“Is that Y/n? I've never seen that bike in the lot before.”

“I don't know man, let's just wait and see”

The person sitting on the bike looked really badass. Whoever it was took off their helmet and low and behold it was Y/n. Wow, she looks so good on a bike. That is something that I never thought I would think is hot. Her glasses are framing her beautiful e/c eyes. Her tattoos peeked out by her collarbone which is something that we will have to ask her about later. When she put the helmet under her arm she looked so sexy.

“We should go see her”

“Okay, let's go.”

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

“Y/n?” You heard a voice yell. You looked around and saw Yunho and Mingi smiling as they approached you. Your heart stopped as they approached, they were wearing simple clothes and they looked absolutely magnificent. Their bare faces were glowing and you could feel the happy energy radiating from them. They both had just gotten out of a vehicle that was already driving off. You smiled back at them, giving them a wave.

“Good morning!” You chirped, you threw your leg off the bike and sat your helmet down on the seat. Yunho pulled you into a hug and Mingi followed suit.

“We are so excited for you to see where we make our magic happen.” Yunho said with a wink at you. You laughed and adjusted the straps of your backpack on your shoulders.

“I love your outfit,” Mingi said motioning to his waist at the approximate placement of the buckles on you.

“Thank you! It's been a while since I have worn them. I generally will wear them when I ride this beauty.” You replied, patting the motorcycle. You saw Willow’s silver SUV pull into the garage around the broad shoulders of the twin towers. “There is the team, I've gotta move the bike so Willow can park here, could one of you hold this while I move?” you asked quickly, holding your helmet out so you wouldn't knock it off the seat. Mingi stepped forward and gently took the helmet from you and put it under his arm. That is most definitely a sight that would be a great photograph. You threw your leg over the bike and started scooting it back toward the wall just like you normally do when reserving her spot. The twin towers stepped away to allow Willow to pull into the space. Once everyone was situated in the parking spot you walked back toward the trunk meeting Mingi and Yunho who had started a conversation with Forrest. You smiled at the interaction, those three would bring the most chaos if they were together for too long.

“Here I can take that back from you Mings,” you said motioning to the helmet he still had under his arm.

“Oh, I forgot I even had it, here you go,” he replied with a bright gummy smile. You would absolutely love to see him with a pretty pink helmet with a tiara affixed to it. Of course he would have to even consider riding a motorcycle before that would ever happen. You grabbed one of the smaller boxes and turned to look at everyone. Yunho had grabbed the last box out of the trunk and started showing everyone where they needed to go. Mingi follows just behind him, still chattering with Forrest. The door was toward the back of the lobby so you bypassed security and thank goodness you didn't have to interact with people. You hated people. Yunho was in the lead and he pushed the button to go up. You were in awe of how he balanced the box without even teetering, like you generally did, when he pushed the button. After the short elevator ride he brought you to an office, where Hongjoong was already waiting. You looked around the space, there were two sets of desks facing each other and a large amount of shelving behind the desks. While it wasn't your usual setup you could definitely make it work. You smiled and nodded to Hongjoong before setting your helmet, box, and backpack down on the desk the farthest to your right. He raised an eyebrow at the helmet you placed down.

“What? Never seen a motorcycle helmet before Joong?” You teased with a giggle. His eyes widened.

“No no,” he said, waving his hands in front of him, “I have, I just didn't expect it from you,” he said, “wait, that didn't come out right,” he was getting more frantic with his movements. It looked like he was trying to swipe the words out of the air. “I'll just be quiet now,” he finished rambling, put his arms down and faced the floor so you couldn't see the blush spreading over the rest of his face. He looked like a child that just got in trouble. Mingi laughed at his reaction and walked over to Hongjoong slapping his shoulder.

“Hyung, it hasn’t even been two minutes of them being here and you are already embarrassing yourself.” Hongjoong looked over at him with a glare and Mingi walked away before he could smack him. You snickered at their antics.

Yunho threw an arm over your shoulder and steered you toward the door. “I am your official tour guide for today seeing as my parts for the songs are finished. We need to go get your official ID badges and then I will show you around the building. Then we can break for lunch and come back for dance practice, sound good?”

You nodded and turned toward your team who were chattering amongst themselves. “Sound good for you guys as well?” You repeated to the chatterboxes. They all looked at you with wide eyes like they had been caught doing something they shouldn’t be. They are just like children.

“What did you say? We didn’t catch it.” Willow said sheepishly.

“He said that he is our tour guide and that we need to go get our official ID badges and then he will show us around the building. Then we can break for lunch and come back for dance practice.”

“Oh yeah, sounds great,” Aurora quickly said. You squinted at her over your shoulder. They were definitely up to something. Most likely plotting something surrounding you, and there is no telling what it could be.

“Lead the way then Yuyu” you joked. He looked at you with surprise. He was the only one that had any reaction to you calling him by a nickname. You looked up at him, he was just about a head taller than you, and you could see the blush creeping up his neck. He started down the hall and was steering you around with his arm over your shoulder. All of the halls you turned down confused you thankfully you had a tall knight in shining armor leading the way.

“Okay, through that door is the office that does the cards, I will wait out here for everyone.” Yunho said, taking his arm off of your shoulder. You missed the comforting weight already. You smiled up at him and looked back to your team who were snickering to themselves. What is up with them today?

You pushed the door open to the office and held it open for the rest of your team. They nodded at you and walked passed. Aurora took the lead and explained who you were and why you were here. They all knew that you did not like speaking to new people unless absolutely necessary. They motioned for you to follow them back and they set you in front of a camera much like they would if you were taking a drivers license photo. After each of you went through the process they handed you the badges. You bowed to them and thanked them for their time.

Once you had the badge strapped to your collar you stepped out to the hallway where Yunho was waiting Yeosang was standing with him. Both of them looked at you as you stepped out of the office. Yeosang looked at you with wide eyes and a small blush creeping up on his cheeks. What is with everyone today, no one seems to be able to handle your presence.

You turned to look at Aurora ducking your head toward her and quietly asked “Is there something going on that I do not know about? Everyone is acting weird around me?”

“You can be very intimidating, I think they are just getting used to you being around here.” She said with a wink and shoved you toward the boys. Being the only single one on your team was an absolute nightmare; all three of them had significant others so they all always teamed up on you. Willow had her husband Rowan, Forrest had his husband Asher, and Aurora had her wife Meadow, and you had no one. Why is it that after all of these years of not having anyone remotely interested in you everyone is now a blushing mess around you.

“Good morning Y/n-nie,” Yeosang said as you stumbled closer. His blush was replaced with a wide smile. The birthmark near his left eye was on display because he was barefaced. His smile was stunning, he was stunning. This is exactly why he is your bias wrecker. You could feel your face heating up the longer you lingered in your thoughts.

“Good morning Yeo,” you responded, bowing your head slightly.

“Do you mind if I join your tour? I just finished up my portion of recording and do not have anything to do until dance practice this afternoon.” He asked and looked between you, your team, and Yunho. He had a hopeful look on his face which was very maltese of him. You nodded and looked at Yunho seeing if he was okay with it as he is the one with a plan and you were only there to tag along.

“Yeah, we don't mind one bit, the more the merrier!” Yunho said with a look toward you. He threw his arm around your shoulder and he tugged Yeosang under his other arm. Yeosang made a noise of protest and wormed his way out from under Yunho's arm and made his way to the other side of you.

After the tour of the rest of the building and Yunhoand Yeosang explaining what some of the rooms were for and how they remembered where everything was. The final room that they wanted to show your team was the big recording studio. As your group got closer to the studio the more nervous you got. The first time was nerve wracking enough, even with the giants there you were still in over your head. Of course with some of their reactions to you today maybe they should be nervous of you. Yeosang held open the door for you and you bowed slightly to him. All eyes were on you as you entered the larger recording studio. You heard your team shuffle in behind you.

“Y/n-nie! How are you? I heard you rode a motorcycle here, that's so cool! Could I see it later?” Wooyoung ecstatically questioned. He scrambled toward you and threw himself at you to give you a hug. You knew that he had always been affectionate toward the other members, and you couldn't say it surprised you that he was affectionate toward you. You hardly expected the rest of the members to be this affectionate with you.

“I'm doing well, I don't mind showing the bike to you. One of these days I could drive you around on it if you like, so long as the extra helmet I have fits you.” You replied to his rapid fire questions.

“Yahhh that would be so much fun!” He said pulling away from you and placing his hands on your shoulders. Wooyoung steered you toward the couch that San and Seonghwa were sitting on. They both scooted over to put you in the middle while your team found seats scattered across the room. You sat down and Wooyoung planted himself in front of you between your knees.

“Mingi is almost finished with his recording and then we need to get Jongho and myself done and then we can break for lunch,” Hongjoong said, glancing around the room to everyone. He smiled at you and your team and turned back to Mingi speaking into the mic to give him feedback.

“So, what do you think of it here? Is it to your expectations as an Atiny?” Seonghwa asked. You turned to look at him and smiled.

“It is a lot bigger than I expected, I will get lost here until I get the hang of the layout, but that is normal for me.”

“In all honesty, it is sometimes difficult for me to find things still, and I have been here a lot longer than you. You will get the hang of it.” He said putting his arm around the back of the couch and resting his hand on your shoulder rubbing soothing circles on it. Not too shortly after you felt someone put their head on your knee. You look down to see Wooyoung just resting there, he was practically wrapped around your leg. His hand was drawing small circles on your calf. He seemed to be content just in your presence. Everyone was awfully quiet listening to Mingi, his voice fitted through the space as they recorded one of the slower songs on the album. You took a page out of Woo’s book and leaned your head onto Seonghwa’s shoulder. You could feel him look at you with surprise, but he leaned his head on yours just a couple of seconds later. Everyone seemed tired, it almost felt too quiet but it was a comfortable quiet. You could get used to this kind of peace and quiet.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Next Chapter (Chapter 5)

Taglist:@breadedloafs @a-short-ass-disappointment @ateezswonderland

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