#the accent threw me so off but it sounded so funny

[purplepeptobismol]

Bawling my fucking eyes out ⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️ i edited my friend reading this scene and i cant get over it 💀

[excerpt context]

[baby-yongbok]

Come Back Soon

Bang Chan × afab!reader

✮ Genre: Smut, Sex Worker!Bang Chan ✮ Word count: 5k ✮ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors DNI), sex work (Like a sexy host club kinda?), oral (m rec.), nipple play, unprotected sex, Reader is called pretty (a lot..) ✮ Summary: Who's the cute guy with the white jacket and the thick accent? ✮ A/N: Bang Chan + Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter as requested by this anon! Enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

✮ Masterlist✮

In your defense, it’s not a brothel. It just kind of operates like one.

You heard about Railway from a friend of a friend. It’s a hole in the wall club that she swears is a gem. You looked it up and found close to nothing. There was only a small reddit community of people in your area asking questions about this mystery place. Here’s what you gathered:

It’s a club where women can meet men and pay for attention. Whether or not that attention includes your clothes being ripped off in a private room or a tongue down your throat is up to you. 

You decided to visit one Thursday when your Tinder match was being flaky and you were sick of waiting for replies from men who were either a catfish or can’t find the clit. 

The place was hard to find. You walked passed it twice before you realized that you needed to go down the sketchy staircase next to the hotpot restaurant. 

You expected a place packed and run down with women all over the men working there. You expected a mess and you were met with the opposite. The space was clean, pretty and not nearly wild enough to be considered a club. There are red curved couches and lounge nooks all around. A fully stocked bar and music playing loudly but not so loud that you need to yell. This is not at all what you imagined. 

You learned that night that the only guys in the club were the ones working there. They come up to you, charm you, and only stay if you want them to. If you decline they’re onto the next. 

You spent some time there, got some attention but it wasn’t until your eyes met his that you really felt like you were getting the attention you desired. He was in a suit, no shirt underneath the jacket and looking damn good while doing it. He walked into the room like he was six foot two even though he’s just about average height, it doesn’t matter to you though - he’s hot. 

Once he saw you he went straight for you, walking over like he had all of the time in the world. You sat pretty on the couch, sitting up a bit straighter and sipping your drink like you didn’t even notice him. He thought that was cute. 

“Excuse me.” Oh? Is that an accent you hear? You hum, looking up at him like he didn’t have your attention from the moment he walked in. “Is this seat taken? Or can I join you?”

That’s how you ended up meeting Chris. 

The two of you sat and spoke for at least thirty minutes before his cautious touches turned into much more and a make-out session in one of the lounge nooks. 

He pulled you into his lap, hands on your hips and pretty sounds clashing with yours. You considered taking it further for a second, just a second before your phone rang and your friend effectively cockblocked you. Chris thought it was funny. He smiled while you pouted about having to leave but he didn’t let you go without another kiss - deep and lingering. His tongue on yours and those pretty hands on your hips.

“Come back soon, yeah?” He smiled up at you, his eyes turning into gleaming crescents and you were hooked. Unfortunately, the soon that you promised him wasn’t as soon as you wanted. 

Work has been hectic, your friends have been messy and you’ve just been busy. Every plan that you had to return got canceled until tonight, Christmas Eve. You threw on a red sheer dress and put your phone on Do Not Disturb. When you get to the club this time there’s a guy at the door, a cute blonde with a deep voice and pretty accent. He gives you a card with some instructions for the night. You look it over and turn to him.

“Wait, how does this work?” He smiles - fuck, he’s hot - and points out the QR code on the card. 

“You can scan this to get the clubs app. Then you go to the event tab, press the holiday party chat and it will match you with a random guy from the club. You chat anonymously and if you like him you can take it further. If you don’t like him you can unmatch the chat and try again.” You nod, half entranced by his voice and half listening. 

You nod at him, smiling sweetly but his smile has got you beat. Is he on the app? Gosh. 

You head over to the bar and order a drink then scan the code. You open the app and it’s surprisingly smooth. You follow the instructions that the hot blonde gave you and go to the holiday party chat. A button pops up with big pretty letters reading “Spin”, so you do. Two seconds pass and the bartender is sliding you your drink while you get connected to a chat. This is interesting. 

So, the guys are nice. Really nice, but there’s no spark. You’re on your second drink and you just unmatched your second chat. You look around the club, the men are dressed in sexy, festive all white outfits with their main charming point on display to lure attention. 

 You scan the room looking for that familiar face you made out with a month ago but there’s no sign of him. You sigh, deciding to try your luck and press the pretty button on your phone again. You get connected to someone new and they start off the conversation just as the others did, sweet.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here alone on Christmas eve?”

You sip your drink, typing a reply and waiting less than a second to get one back. 

- You think I’m pretty? You don’t even know who I am yet. - “Let’s play a game then, yeah? I’ll guess.”

Oh? This is getting interesting.

- And if you guess the wrong pretty girl? - “Then unmatch me.”  - “If I don’t recognize you then I don’t deserve your time.”

Wait… did he say recognize? Like he knows you? Knows what you look like? You look around again, searching for Chris. You’d recognize him in a heartbeat but he’s nowhere to be found. You turn your attention back to the app to see that your match has texted again. 

- “Deal?”

You hesitate but agree. You wait with bated breath as you watch the little chat bubble pop up.

- “By the bar? Sinful little red dress.”

You stare at his answer then look around again. What the hell?

- “You didn’t unmatch. I knew I had the right pretty lady.” - Lucky guess, I’m not the only pretty girl in a red dress. 

You scoff, getting ready to unmatch when he texts back.

- “But you’re the only one here tonight that I was hoping to see again.” - “The only one here that I’ve had my eye on for far longer than I should.” - “The only one I was hoping to match with so I can kiss those pretty lips again.”

Oh fuck, it’s him. Thank the heavens.

- Oh? Is this the guy with the cute accent? - “Pretending that you don’t remember my name? I’m hurt.”

You smile, finishing your drink and texting back. Suddenly you’re having a good time. A very good one. 

- Remind me of it. - “Oh, I plan to”

The chat is ended before you can text back and your heart drops. What happened? Did you actually hurt his feelings? What does he mean he plans to? The bartender interrupts your flurry of wonder before you can go any deeper. He slides you a shot and you furrow your brows. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t order this.” The bartender smiles at you and nods to the other side of the bar. “It’s from him. On his tab.”

You turn around and your heart drops to the center of the earth. Chris is there. White fur jacket, white pants and no shirt. He’s leaning against the bar with a grin that you’d like to kiss off of his stupidly handsome face. How could you forget to look behind you? 

You lock your phone and turn your bar stool to face him. He’s sipping on something while his eyes roam down from yours and over the curve of your neck then the swell of your chest. He’s practically eye fucking you and you have no idea what to do about it. So you take the shot. 

The burn of the alcohol along with the desire bubbling in your core is enough to steel you for the moment that Chris pushes back off of the bar and makes his way over to you. You get a full view of him as he walks over and part of you starts foaming at the mouth while the other part of you has to hold down the fort and act normal about this. 

“Excuse me.” His thick accent rings through your ears and you grin. “Is this seat taken? Or can I join you?” 

“Is that your pick up line or something?” The dopey smile on your face gives Chris all the confirmation he needs to take the empty seat next to you. “You should come up with something new.”

“Is that right? Any suggestions?” Damn it, he’s still as hot as you remember. “I could just tell you how stunning you look in this dress instead.” 

You feel a flush creep up your neck at his compliment. "That's a start," you manage to say, trying to keep your cool. "But I've heard better."

Chris smiles leaning in a tad bit closer. Just enough for you to notice, "Oh? Then I'll have to up my game." His eyes sparkle with mischief. "How about this - I've been waiting to see you again every night for a month. I was starting to worry I'd lost my touch. What good am I if I can’t get the prettiest woman coming back to see me?"

You laugh, the tension easing slightly. "Maybe I was just playing hard to get."

"Were you now?" Chris raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "And here I thought you forgot about me."

"Trust me, it's impossible to forget about you," Your mouth was moving before you could stop yourself. We’ll blame that on the alcohol. 

“You’ve thought about me then?” He asks with a smile that’s much sweeter than any other that you’ve seen tonight.

Fuck it, let loose, It’s Christmas eve. 

“Maybe I have, but the details are classified.” That takes his sweet smile and turns it into a blush real quick. You can’t help but mirror him since you just indirectly admitted to thinking of him while you had some solo play over the past month - which is one hundred percent true.

“Classified, hm?” He speaks up, nodding. “I’ve thought about you too. And those details are free to the public. If you ask for them.”

Your heart races at his bold admission. That was unexpected. You lean in closer, your voice lowering to a sultry whisper. "And what if I did ask?"

Chris' eyes darken ever so slighty. He leans in too, his breath hot against your ear. "Then I'd tell you how I've imagined your soft skin under my hands, the taste of your lips, the sound of your moans as I..."

He trails off, pulling back slightly to gauge your reaction. Your breath catches in your throat, heat pooling low in your belly.

"As you what?" You breathe, unable to look away from his intense gaze.

Chris grins, hoping that he has you hooked. "On second thought, that information is classified. The rest you'll have to find out from experience."

You swallow hard, your mind racing with possibilities. "And how exactly would I do that?"

He reaches out, his fingers trailing lightly over your hand that’s resting on the bar. 

“Come with me downstairs.” There’s a downstairs to this place? “I’ll get you away from the noise and then we can make some of our own.” 

Your heart races as you consider his offer. Every bit of you is screaming at you to take his offer and bring your lingering fantasies to life but you still try to play hard to get. At least you were going to before the alcohol and desire coursing through your veins drowned everything out and had you nodding in a quick second. 

"Lead the way" You say, your voice huskier than intended.

Chris' eyes light up with a mix of surprise and excitement. He stands, offering you his hand before you could even dare to change your mind. You take it, relishing the warmth of his skin against yours. As you slide off the barstool, you take him in and realize just how little justice your memory of him does for his insane body.

He guides you through the semi-crowded club, his hand on the small of your back sending shivers up your spine. You follow him down a narrow staircase, the music fading as you descend. The basement level is dimly lit, with plush velvet sofas and private alcoves tucked away in corners.

He leads you over to one of the private spaces, very few of them are free but he leads you to the one in the corner like it was reserved just for him. “After you.” You step into the cozy space. There’s a couch on one side, a semi-sofa on the other with a small table next to it, then there’s nothing but a bare wall.

Chris slides the door shut behind the two of you as he steps in and it’s almost like you’ve entered your own soundproof barrier.

He almost looks sheepish when he steps forward to close the space between the two of you. His hand finds its way back to the small of your back, his touch gentle and warm. You turn to face him fully, his proximity making your heart race.

"Now where were we?" He whispers, his shy smile turning into a more sly one. You look up at him, unable to tear your gaze away from his. 

"I like your coat." You comment, changing the subject to buy yourself time to calm down but the desire thick in your tone lets you know that there’s little that you can do to calm yourself. "It looks good on you."

He grins, "It would look better on you." Before you can protest he's shrugging the long white fur off of his shoulders, leaving his broad build open on display for you. You stare, taking in each dip and curve of his chest and stomach. How could you not?

He drapes the coat over your shoulders and you smile in a nearly futile attempt to stop the moan clawing up your throat when you realize that the warm fabric smells like him. You slip your arms in the sleeves and Chris hums in approval.

"Now..." He brushes your hair back, his gaze shifting into something more possessive now that you're wearing his coat. "Where were we?"

"Right about here, I think." 

Before he can react your lips are on his in a hungry and demanding kiss. We'll blame this on the alcohol too.

 You melt into him, your hands indulgently taking in the soft skin of his bare shoulders while he returns your passion. His tongue traces along your bottom lip and you part them, allowing him entry. 

He groans into the kiss, his hands finding purchase on your waist for just a second before he lets them trail up under the fabric of his coat and over the sheer of your dress. Every inch of you that he takes in is better than anything he could've imagined in the month that you've been on his mind.

 He pulls you closer, his desire getting the better of him. He has to know what you feel like against him. He just has to.

 You can feel his erection pressing into your hip and a rush of arousal floods between your thighs. 

Your hands explore his chest, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. He pulls back slightly, his breathing heavy as he looks down at you, his eyes dark with need.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his accent sending shivers down your spine. "This is part of those classified details, ya know."

"Mine too." you admit, biting your lip. "So don't stop."

With a growl, Chris captures your lips once more, his hands sliding further up your back just to slide back down to your waist. You press yourself against him, craving every bit of him you can get your hands on. The proximity deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, leaving you breathless.

His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing them through the fabric of your dress. A soft moan escapes you and he swallows it, his lips trail kisses along your jaw and down to the sensitive spot on your neck. You squirm against him, his touch driving you crazy.

"Fuck, Chris," You gasp, gripping his shoulders tightly.

"Say my name again," He breathes, his teeth grazing your skin.

"Chris," You whimper, his name slipping from your lips without a second thought.

His hands leave their exploration of your curves and trail their way up the backs of your thighs and over the curve of your ass. He lifts you up, bypassing both sofas to pin you against the wall. Your legs wrap around his bare torso, pushing his pants down lower on his hips. Once he has you settled he begins to work his way down your neck, his lips setting off a blazing trail of fire across your skin.

"So soft," he mumbles, his accent thicker now, betraying his growing desire.

His mouth trails back up to yours, stamping a hot kiss against your lips and pulling away right after. You whine, chasing his lips with yours. 

"Impatient, are we?" He chuckles, his hands pushing the bunched up fabric of your dress further up your thighs. You shiver, goosebumps forming where his fingertips brush against your skin.

"You're doing everything right, how could I not be." 

"Oh? Is that so?" He hums, his lips brush over yours teasingly.

"It is." You breathe, your hands moving over his shoulders to tangle in his hair. This time you kiss him, it’s deep and indulgent but then you break it to kiss over his jaw. 

"You're a fucking tease, you know that?" He groans, his thumbs stroking the smooth skin of your thighs. It’s taking all of his self control not to absolutely rip you apart.

"Me?" You breathe, smiling against his skin as you place another kiss. "I'm not the one whose been flaunting around the club half-naked all night. And now you’re here teasing me."

Your teeth graze over the shell of his ear and his cock jumps in his pants. He moves swiftly yet gently, turning to lay you down on the sofa. 

“Am I being a tease?” He asks, staring down at you with those dark brown eyes while his hands work on his belt. You watch the way his fingers move so strategically. The veins in his hands alone are enough to get you feeling hotter. “How can I make it up to you?”

He’s diving down to attach your lips before you can even answer. His hands smooth over your curves hurriedly until he reminds himself to take his time with you. His hands are back on your breasts, pulling down the red fabric of your dress to expose you to him. He catches himself, stopping and pulling back just a bit.

“Can I see you? Is that alright?” You nod, whimpering a hasty “yes” then crashing your lips back to his. He moans against you, pulling down the last of the fabric containing your breasts until they’re resting in his palms. He groans and you swallow it. 

Chris lighty pinches and pulls at your nipples, the buds rise at the attention and you moan in response. "You like that?"

"Yes," Your fingers tangle in his hair and tug. "How about this?" He rolls one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, your head falling back.

"That's it, baby. Let me hear you." He dips his head down and takes one of the stiff peaks into his mouth. The sound it pulls from you is unbecoming but you ignore the embarrassment lingering in your chest and let the pleasure spread further. 

Chris on the other hand, is in love with every sound you make and he’s determined to hear more. His teeth graze over your nipple. Your grip tightens, a louder moan escaping you. "Just like that."

His hands trail down, pulling your dress further up your thighs until the black lace covering your soaked sex is in full view. His hands stroking the underside of your thighs, teasing you further and you nearly fall apart at the seams.

"Chris," You moan, grinding up into him. Begging for him to touch you where you need him most.

"How wet are you, pretty girl?" He coos, his hand slides up between your legs. You gasp and he groans when his fingers trace over the lace of your panties. "Fuck, you're soaked."

"Please," You beg, bucking against his hand. "You’re driving me crazy." His thumb circles over your clit and your hips rock in time with his movements. You're already so close, and he's barely touched you.

His tongue darts out to lick over your neglected nipple. You shudder, your nails dig into his shoulders and he hisses at the sweet sting.

"I want you," you plead, trailing a hand down the expanse of his back. He continues his ministrations, kissing and nipping at your sensitive bud while his fingers work smooth circles over your clit. 

Your legs are practically shaking with desire but your needy whimpers are nothing compared to all that Chris is holding back while he strokes himself on his knees in front of you. You’ve hardly noticed that his hard cock is in his hand, leaking and angry red at the tip but that’s only because he’s swallowing every moan that he possibly can just so that he can hear you clearly. He wants to remember this.  

"Chris," you moan, grinding up against his touch. He pulls back, letting your nipple go with a faint pop.

"What is it, love?" His face is twisted in pleasure as he pants, trying desperately to keep himself in check.

"I need you," You whine, grabbing and rubbing over his bare chest until you grab hold of one of his chains.

"Tell me what you want." He wants to hear you say it. He needs to.

"Fuck me." You breathe, your cheeks flushed. "Please."

Chris doesn't need any further encouragement. In a swift motion, he's standing and lifting you up again. His lips find yours in a hungry kiss and you melt against him.

He turns around and sits down with you straddling him. His bare cock rests against the soaked lace of your panties and he can’t help but to make a sound that he didn’t know was possible. 

His hands grip your hips, digging in like you're the only thing grounding him to reality. "You're sure about this?" 

He asks, his voice low and rough. You nod, reaching between you to move your panties to the side and sit your bare cunt over his length. He hisses, his breath catching in his throat "Oh, fuck." His head falls back against the sofa.

"Let me ride you," You whisper, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his neck. Chris’ face is red, blushed crazy with desperate desire and restraint. You lift up and pump his cock, spreading your dripping slick and getting him nice and wet before you sink down. 

You two are a splitting image of each other. Faces twisted in pleasure, fingers digging into the other and choked moans spilling over your kiss swollen lips. 

"Fuck, you're so wet." He groans, holding his breath just to make sure he doesn’t bust too fast. "So tight."

“You’re fucking big. Oh god.” Your head falls back, eyes shut tight as you take in the stretch of him. 

Chris hisses, his hips instinctively bucking up into you. "Shit, sorry. Are you okay?" 

He holds still, his hands massaging the swell of your ass. You nod, adjusting to his size. "Yeah, just please move. Don’t stop." 

You're impatient, rocking your hips against him. Chris is quick to give in, rocking his hips up slowly until he loses it and starts snapping his hips up into yours. He drives his cock deep and hard into your fluttering cunt and you clench around him wildly, fucking down onto him like he’s the last man you’ll ever touch. 

You can feel every inch of him, his length dragging along your walls and hitting every spot inside you. It's like the two of you are a perfect fit. Chris' hands roam over your body, mapping every inch of exposed skin. 

"So fucking beautiful," he mutters, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he watches the way your tits bounce in his face. "Look at you, taking me so well." He holds your hips still, keeping you in place while he fucks his thick length up into you. You cling to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he fucks into you. 

Chris' eyes flutter shut, a string of curses falling from his lips. His fingers dig into your hips with each bounce of you on his cock. 

"Is this what you wanted, pretty girl?" He grunts and you clench, driving him closer to the edge. “Is that what you thought about?”

The sounds coming from the both of you are filthy. Pornographic in nature and incessant. 

"Y-yes," you manage to gasp, your fingers digging into the muscles of his chest, surely leaving marks to remember you by. "Just like that. Oh, oh fuck, Chris. You're gonna make me cum." 

Your words send him reeling, his thrusts faltering slightly. "Do it, baby," he rasps, his eyes burning into yours. "Cum all over my cock." 

The coil in your belly snaps, his name spilling from your lips as you cum. Your release has his head spinning. The tight squeeze of your cunt and the sounds he has vibrating from your chest drag him closer to his own blinding release. He holds back, fucking you through your high with a sloppy rhythm. 

"Fuck, I'm close." You pry his grip from your hips and lift up off of him, sinking down to your knees. You look prettier than Chris can handle, on your knees with his fur coat pooling around you. Your lips wrap around his throbbing cock and he moans, his hand finding purchase in your hair immediately.

"Shit, yes, oh god." He breathes, his hips rocking forward. "So good, jus’ like that." A deep, guttural moan escapes his lips and his hips stutter. "Fuck, oh fuck." 

His eyes shut tight as you bury his cock deep in your throat, swallowing around him and milking his chest dry of every last ounce of oxygen he possessed.

You hum, reaching down between your legs and rubbing your throbbing pussy while he makes such pretty sounds above you.

"’M gonna cum," He groans, his accent thick and his grip on your hair tightening. You keep your pace, bringing your hand up to stroke what can’t fit into your mouth as you suck and lick him like you know everything that drives him crazy - because somehow, you do.

His jaw clenches, his abs tense and the muscles in his neck strain and suddenly you wish that you were still on top of him, letting him fill you full of his sticky seed but that will have to wait until next time. 

Chris tenses above you, a loud groan erupting from him as the first spurt of hot cum falls against your tongue. 

"Fuck, oh, fuck. Just like that, baby. ‘M cumming for you, take it all." He shudders, rambling as his body jerks as he spills himself down your throat. You swallow him greedily, his sweet taste lingering on your tongue. 

Chris' breathing is heavy, his chest rises and falls rapidly while he watches you. You pull up off of him, kissing the head of his twitching dick while his heart races.

You smile at him, "Good?" You ask, wiping the corners of your mouth. “Are you kidding me?” Chris huffs out a breathy laugh. "So fucking good." 

"Come here," He mumbles, lifting you up and bringing you to his lap. His coat drags behind you and he runs his hands up under the furry fabric and over your back. “You look so good in this.”

He fixes your dress, bringing it up to cover your exposed chest and smoothes the fabric over your thighs. “Do you say that to every girl you let borrow your clothes?”

Chris smiles, shaking his head and running his greedy hands up your thighs. 

“You're the only girl I’ve ever let wear something of mine. And I’ll keep it that way under one condition.” You smile, resting your own greedy hands over his chest and leaning into him. 

“What would that be?” He cups your cheek bringing you in for a soft kiss, much softer than what’s in his job description. In his defense, he’s never felt this much chemistry with any other lady who’s walked through the front door of this club.

“Come back soon, okay?” He smiles against your lips and kisses you again, whispering this time. “And I’ll make sure that you’re the only one wearing my clothes both inside and outside of the club.”

You mirror his smile, kissing his lips with a tenderness you didn’t foresee when you first met him. 

“Deal.”

Thank You For Reading! 💕

Divider credit to @bunnysrph

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[menagerofmischief]

Nugget Update (MV1)

sumary: y/n's always giddy after getting a nugget update, sure she loves her best boy, but it also has something to do with the cat sitter sending the updates

driver!reader x cat sitter!max verstappen -> habs incoming... series masterlist

cw: not fia approved words, a bit of lance hate (I don't actually hate him), mutual pinning, the grid teasing the reader, lot of appearances from the reader's cat, kissing, kinda mean!reader (to the grid)

wc: 4.1k

a/n: this is my first time writing in 2nd person so bear with me. also, I low key hate this and it may be shit. not proof read!

“Well aren’t you a ball of sunshine?” A voice called out, disturbing the peace - or the closest thing to peace you could have near a Formula 1 track.

Your gaze snapped up, eyes narrowing as you took in the man standing on the entry of the RedBull garage. “Hello, Charles,” you replied, a teasing bite obviously heard in your voice as you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know you wanted to experience what a successful garage looks like but I thought Ferrari had a better hold on you.”

Charles laughs, his eyes crinkling as his lips stretch into a smile. Teasing Charles was always a fun time but that’s all it was, just a bit of fun. It never stretched into something meaner, just two people showing affection by teasing each other.

Charles had been your very first real friend on the grid. The first to offer his hand with a smile and genuinely mean it. The first to congratulate you on a win after getting out of the car or the first to say that the next race would be better. Really, he was your best friend, but you would never tell him that or it would go to his head.

“Funny, very funny.” He said, his accent thick. His eyes slid around the motor home until finally meeting your own. “Lot of drivers are going out for drinks, came by to invite you.”

“I don’t Charles,” you started to say, going through your mental list of excuses, searching for the best one to use to avoid this social interaction.

“Oh come on!” He whined, rolling his eyes. He gave you a look that let you know you could stop thinking about an excuse because he wasn’t going to be buying it. “We won’t stay that long and it’s night race tomorrow so you don’t need to wake up at the crack of dawn.”

You pressed your lips together, the lip gloss previously applied making them slide against each other easily. 

Charles kissed his teeth, nodding his head along. Fine, he’ll play the game. “Some of the WAG’s are coming as well.”

“Are you really trying to lure me out by promising female company?”

“Is it working?”

“Eh,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Will you pay my tab?”

Charles scoffed. “Pay your tab?” He asked, sounding as if you had asked him for his firstborn. “You’re filthy rich! You have a bigger salary than me!”

“Yeah, they do pay world champions a bit extra, comes with the title.” You replied, grinning at him, a wide teasing grin, your eyes twinkling. 

“Fine whatever, I’ll pay your tab.” He said, raising his hands in surrender. “Now go take that suit off and shower, you look disgusting.”

“You look like a trash can threw you up!”

“It threw me up because it saw you!” Charles shouted back in response, his back already turned to you as he walked away, back to the Ferrari garage. 

And that’s how you ended up in the bar, an hour later. Squished in the not too comfortable and definitely not meant to sit so many people, booth. With George’s girlfriend Carmen on your left, and Pierre’s girlfriend Kika on your right, and deep in conversation with both of them. 

You feel your phone vibrate under your hand on the table, and the screen lights up, showing off your wallpaper, a picture of your beloved cat Nugget.

You tune off from the conversation the moment the message arrives, grabbing your phone and pulling it in towards you. Your face lights up, lips stretching into a smile as your eyes focus on the sender ID. Maxie.

Or rather Max. The very cute guy who was your cat sitter whenever you were out and about in the world, chasing the racing track. 

With a quick move of your fingers, you swipe up, opening your phone and going into the message app. Fingers quickly tapping along the screen of your phone as you type out your reply.

With a smile you closed the messages app, pressing your fingers against the button on the side of your phone, watching the screen go black before setting it face down onto the table. As you looked back up, Lando’s amused yet teasing expression caught your eye.

You leaned forward against the table, pressing your hands to the wooden surface as you attempted to get a bit closer to the driver on the other side of the table. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh nothing,” he said with a laugh. “Just wondering who you’re texting, that’s all.” He intertwined his fingers, elbows pressed against the table and leaned forward as well. “You were all grumpy cat but then you get a message and suddenly you’re all smiles.”

“Grumpy cat?” You scoff, rolling your eyes at the McLaren driver. “I’m not a grumpy cat. And for the record, that was Nugget’s babysitter and he was sending me a picture of Nugget.”

Lando laughs, there’s a twinkle in his eyes that tells you he wants to say more but he holds himself back. “Can I see? I haven’t seen the orange gremlin in so long.”

“That’s very mean,” you say, opening your phone to show him the picture, that Max had sent you. “Nugget would never say that about you.”

“That’s because Nugget can’t speak.” He looks at the screen and his lips twist upward in a smirk. “Who’s Maxie?”

You breathe out through your nose, teeth digging into your bottom lip. When you speak your voice is sharp, it leaves no room for questioning things or an invite to ask more questions. “The cat sitter.”

“I’m sure that’s all he is.” Lando laughs when you show him your middle finger before settling back into your seat and returning to the previously abandoned conversation with the two WAG’s.

The race went pretty smoothly, as always. Starting from pole, keeping the lead the whole race and with a 20s gap to car in P2. Everything after that was pretty much a blur, the interviews, partying through the night with the grid and boarding the jet early in the morning.

The sun already started setting by the time you made it to Monaco. With a sigh you rummaged through your bag, blindly feeling around the stuff inside before your fingers finally wrapped around the keys.

Opening the apartment door you walked inside, gently laying down your suitcase as your eyes settled on the scene in your living room. Right there, laying on your couch, in deep sleep, and cuddling your cat is Max Verstappen. 

His hair had fallen over his eyes and the position he’s in looks rather uncomfortable, you’re sure his body will be aching when he wakes up. His chest was raising and falling with each breath he took, little sighs slipping past his lips. Nugget was cuddled up to him, curled in a ball.

You looked at him for a few moments before starting to move around as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him up. 

Max had been cat sitting for you for a while now. Half of last season and now half of this one so almost a year. He was a sweet, kinda shy, mostly nerdy guy you ran into in a coffee shop and spilled his coffee. You offered to buy him a new one and he joined you for the coffee and you got to talking when he said he was looking for a job so you offered him to become your pet sitter.

At that point you really did need someone to look after your cat while you were gone, since you had broken up with your ex who usually took care of Nugget while you were away. And you couldn’t leave Nugget with your parents since your father was allergic to cats.

Now, your best friend who had been working in a different country had returned to Monaco and said she’d be more than happy to look after Nugget - but you wanted to keep Max around. 

Already having grown used to coming home after a race weekend to find him there, just existing in your space.

Nugget’s whiskers twitch, his eyes opening and he pulls himself away from Max, stretches out and then trots over to you, rubbing his head against your leg affectionately while purring. He let out a happy, albeit a bit too loud, meow when you picked him up and on the other side of the room Max began stirring from his sleep.

He opened his eyes, a bit confused, and rubbed his knuckles against his eyes to wake up, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light filling up the room. 

“You’re back,” he says, his voice is gentle, still sleepy and a bit quiet. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a sweet smile that has you immediately smiling back at him. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep, sorry about that.”

“Oh no, it’s no problem,” you reply, running your hand over Nugget’s fur as the cat lay happily in your arms. “You can use the guest bedroom if you’re tired, you know. The couch may be expensive but that doesn’t mean it’s comfortable for sleep.”

“I didn’t want to overstep,” Max said, pulling himself up into a sitting position. You approached the couch and sat down, the cat nestling in your lap and purring in content. Max smiled, reaching out his hand and petting Nugget.

“Nonsense Max, you’re not overstepping.” You cut him off, leaving no room for argument. You always told him to feel at ease in your apartment, that he was welcome to any food in the fridge and free to use the guest room as he pleased but even after all this time there was still a slight air of awkwardness backed up by the fear of going a bit too far.

Max’s eyes settled on you, your own focused on your cat so you didn’t notice him looking. He watched the way you cooed at Nugget, asking if he was a good boy while you were away and petting him gently, and his lips stretched into a small, careful smile.

He spoke before thinking. The words left his mouth before he even finished the thought inside of his head. “I watched the race,” he said, and your eyes instantly snapped up to meet his. He swallowed, already too deep to back down. “It - “ he licked his lips, trying to decide his next words, feeling like his tongue had tied itself up in a knot. “You were spectacular. It was lovely … simply lovely.”

You let out a breath, the corners of your mouth twisting upwards and you gave him a thankful look. Max swore he could feel his heart beating in his throat, and felt his cheeks heat up. “Thank you,” you said, your voice gentle, holding a comforting tone. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. And it’s nice - knowing you watched.”

“It is?”

You bit your lip, teeth scraping against you bottom lip as you looked at him, your brain running faster than the Sauber (like it’s hard) as you tried to come up with a response. “It’s kind of comforting,” you finally said, after what felt like a small forever.

You hummed, looking down at your nails. “I was thinking about bringing Nugget with me to the next race. It’s been a while since he was in the paddock.”

“Oh,” Max said, an edge of confusion noticeable in the tone of his voice. “Does that mean that you don’t need me coming over next week?”

“Actually, I was hoping you would come with.” You say, before you can talk yourself out of making the proposition.

Max tilts his head to the side, kind of like a confused cat and you try your best not to giggle at the mental image. “I’m not sure I’m following.”

“If you wanted to attend the Grand Prix,” you tell him, running the edge of one of your nails along your skin. “Cuz’ I’m still gonna need someone to look after Nugget, and you do that in general so this would just be an added bonus of traveling.”

Max is silent for a few moments and you think he’ll decline. You wouldn't fully blame him if he did, you know what the pressure of the paddock can be like. You’re about to open your mouth, tell him that ‘never mind, it was a stupid idea anyway’ and put him out of the trouble of finding a polite way to decline when he finally speaks. 

“I suppose, if you want me to then yeah, I’ll come along to watch Nugget.” He says, trying to ignore the nervous feeling building up in his chest when you smile at him, a wide happy smile that makes him instantly smile back.

“Great!” You said, the excitement evident in your voice. “Someone from the team will contact you in a while to arrange the tickets and leave the rest to me.” Max nods, he doesn’t trust himself to speak, not with the way his throat is closing up and it makes him feel like he can’t breathe.

“Look at you all giggly,” Charles teased, gently pushing your shoulder with his hand. He wiggled his eyebrows, a laugh slipping past his lips as you glared at him.

“Charles, why don’t you turn around and flash your pretty face to the crowd.” You said, rolling your eyes. You looked at the stadium full of people who were shouting out for their favorite drivers, waving banners and cheering happily. You smiled towards the stadium and lifted your hand up, waving your fingers to the public. “Give them a wave.”

“See, I always knew you thought I was pretty,” Charles replied, waving at the public. The two of you and the rest of the grid were in a wagon, going around the track for the drivers parade, so essentially you were stuck with him for at least five more minutes. “Now, do tell who’s got you smiling like that.”

“Is it Maxie?” Lando asked, the teasing tone evident in his voice. He pushed himself closer to you and Charles, inserting himself into the conversation. 

“Didn’t your mom teach you not to eavesdrop?” 

“No, no!” Charles said, shaking his head as he waved his hand dismissively as you, his full attention now focused on Lando. “Who’s Maxie?”

Lando smiled at him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “The cat sitter,” he said in a sing-song kind of voice. 

“The one you brought to your garage?” The Ferrari driver asked, his attention back on you. “The pretty one.”

“Hold up!” Lando almost shouted, raising his hands. “You brought him with you to the Grand Prix?!”

“I didn’t … well I did bring him.” You said with a sigh, there was no escaping this now. “But it’s not like that. He’s here to watch Nugget.”

“And for you to watch him - because boy that is one good arm candy.”

“Charles, your homosexual is showing,” you warned.

“But you’re not denying it,” Charles noted, giving you a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at him but finally gave in. “Yes, I’m not denying it.”

You stepped back into the motor home, your eyes immediately searching for Max and finally you found him talking to your lead engineer. As you approached the two you could start to hear their conversation and quickly realized they were talking about how the car worked and what went on behind the scenes at a Grand Prix. You found it cute that Max was interested in that.

His eyes met yours and his face lit up, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards into a smile. “You’re back!” He said, “After terrorizing everyone around and getting pets, Nugget decided to settle down for a nap. He’s in your driver's room.”

Max gave you a wink after saying that and you had to hold in a giggle. You excused yourself to go to your driver’s room, with Max following behind you. The first thing you noticed when you went inside was Nugget, curled up on the massage bed and sleeping without a care.

The next thing that grabbed your attention was a dozen pastries lined up on a small table next to the couch. They were all individually wrapped in tissues.

“Max,” you said, picking up one of the pastries and unwrapping it. “I really did mean only one pastry, you know?” You bit into the chocolate filled pastry, moaning at the taste of a treat you weren’t usually allowed to have when it was race week. “My trainer will strangle me if he sees.”

“I swear, no one saw anything.” Max said, shuffling over to the couch and sitting down. “I was sneakier than Nugget when he’s stealing my food.”

“Oh, now that’s a very serious claim.” You told him with a laugh, his own laugh echoing back. You picked up one of the wrapped pastries and offered it to him. “Take one, or five. There’s no way I’m eating it all.”

He takes the pastry you’re offering him, his fingers brushing against your own as he takes it from your hand, sending sparks of electricity down your spine. After a second of hesitation you sit down next to him, the two of you eating the treats in comfortable silence.

His thigh nudges against yours and you turn to face him, finding that he’s already looking at you. He smiles and you don’t hesitate to smile back.

The practices go great, P2 in FP1, P1 in FP2 and P1 in FP3. 

The qualifying is where a slight setback shows up, with quali being ended early due to a crash and a red flag, putting you in P10 for the start of the race tomorrow.  

Once the car had rolled back into the pits you wasted no time getting out, putting the steering wheel back into place before storming into your driver’s room. 

You pulled your helmet off, fingers curling into the bottom of your balaclava as you pulled it off, throwing it next to your helmet before bringing your hands up to smooth down your hair. 

“I’m not in the fucking mood, Pepe.” You said without turning around, assuming it was your race engineer coming to talk about the outcome of qualifying. “Fucking Lance and his fucking money made seat - if that little frog screws up another quali, I’ll be the one crashing him out.”

“I’m not Pepe,” the other person in the room says and you instantly turn around, your eyes wide as they meet Max’s blue ones. “And I’m certainly glad I’m not Lance.”

You looked him up and down, eyes trailing over his figure. You took notice of Nugged, cuddled up in his arms and looked at you curiously, and reached your hand out to pet the cat, a long breath slipping past your lips. 

“Sorry,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “I didn’t really mean for you to hear that.”

Max barely heard what you were saying. Too distracted by the sight of you for his brain to properly register your words. Your skin was slightly glistening with sweat, an imprint from where your helmet and balaclava had dug into your skin still visible on your flushed cheeks. Your messy hair, and your chest raising and falling with each breath you took as you were still working on catching up your breath.

Max blinked, finally snapping out of his thoughts and focusing his attention back to what you were saying. “They should have let you finish the lap.” 

“I agree but sadly that’s not how it works.”

Max nodded along, not really knowing what to say to that so he switched to the next topic. “I ran into your friend. He invited you, and me, out for drinks. I think it would be nice to go, you seem like you need a drink.”

“Yeah, I definitely do.” You replied, taking Nugget from his arms and into your own, stroking down the cat’s body. “Which friend?”

“Uh,” Max started, thinking of a way to describe the guy since he couldn’t remember his name. “Wears red, pretty, sounds French.”

You laughed, smiling at him. “That’s Charles. I hope you didn’t tell him he sounds French, he gets offended by that.”

“Then it’s great I kept it to myself.”

You laughed in reply, putting Nugget down to the floor, the cat immediately moving to a cozy corner and curling up into a ball on the floor, shutting his eyes. “The hotel is right next to the track, you can take Nugget back while I shower and then we can go - if you want to.”

“Sounds like a deal,” Max replied with a smile.

You showered and put on a clean set of clothes just in time to meet Max after he finished dropping Nugget back to the hotel, leaving him with toys, food and water. The two of you made your way to the bar to join the rest of the grid for a night out. 

Some of the drivers were playing pool while their girlfriends were engrossed in a conversation so that left you and Max sitting together, sharing drinks and talking.

“I just …” you started, cracking your fingers. “I don’t know, this quali really messed up my mood and I was riding on such a high after the practices going well. It all feels shit now.”

“Maybe you just need more motivation for the race.” Max offered, drinking the rest of the liquor from his glass in one go. 

“You have something in mind, Maxie?” You asked, the nickname slipping past your lips without a thought now that you’ve had a few drinks. 

“How about a kiss if you get on the podium?” He said, his voice suggestive. Normally he never would have dared to say something like that but the alcohol courage really worked wonders. 

Your eyes widened, clearly not expecting him to be so bold or to suggest that. He took your reaction as a bad sign, immediately straightening up as a wave of dread quickly sobered him up.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, the expression on his face shifting into a panicked one. “That was stupid. It was thoughtless. It was -”

“A great motivation,” you cut him off, putting a finger up against his lips to silence him. “It was a great motivation.”

His cheeks burned as his eyes met yours. He looked so vulnerable, his bright eyes impossibly wide. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“One more corner to go but you’re in the clear,” Pepe’s voice echoed over the radio. You blinked, your eyes focused on the track before you, the checkered flag already visible along with your team gathering in the front. “That’s P1, Y/n. Phenomenal drive today, you deserved it!”

“Thank you,” you said, your voice breathless as you moved your hands, going through the last corner and speeding towards the finish line. “Thank you, Pepe.” You repeated, swallowing your spit. “It was lovely, simply lovely.”

You put the car into P1, getting out and posing for a picture on top of your car. You could hear the shouts, the cheers, the celebration. You took off your helmet, ripping off your balaclava and putting them both into the car before turning around to face the team, eyes searching for a particular face. 

Finally, you spotted Max. Standing besides your engineer, a proud expression on his face as he looked at you with a wide smile. You didn’t hesitate, feet moving before you could think and then you were in front of him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down, smashing your lips into his.

The kiss was desperate, both of having waited long enough for it. He wrapped his arms around you, the best he could with the fence between you, kissing you back with need. 

You finally pulled away when you felt your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, learning your forehead against his. Nothing else mattered, not the public, not the team, not the celebration. Only him, finally yours.

“Simply lovely, right?” You asked, your voice breathless.

“Simply lovely!” Max repeated back to you, before kissing you once again. And he really did mean it - everything was simply lovely.

tag list: @formula1-motogpfan @misty-inferno @thelemonque3n @marvel-hotchner @strangemaximoff @folkloresreputation @pippyth3hippy @adharacambridge @theseerbetweenus @sebastianstansblog @tellybearryyyy @six-call @grussellsprout @oikarma @justcharlotte @annimausi

i hope i tagged everyone who said they wanted to be on the tag list. hope you enjoyed this one and keep an eye out for the poll about the next part of the series <3

[awonderfulliar]

Tangerine flavored

As if you didn't have enough problems already... You sighed as the man behind you pushed his gun in your rib to make you move faster. Your hands were up in the air and you were breathing slowly, focused on the sounds around you. Why did so many people want you dead again? You chuckled a bit, remembering all of the stupid decisions that brought you here. You kept smiling. Quite funny how most of your survival instinct can shut down when you've been sleep deprived and stressed long enough. The big bad man standing in front of you must not have liked that as he ordered his men to knock you unconscious.

When you woke up, your hands were tied to a rusty radiator with dried bloodstains. You weren't quite smiling anymore. Especially when you saw the instruments in a metal bowl lying on the ground not far from you. The room was dark and only a ray of light slipped through a metal door on the opposite wall. You blinked as someone opened the door, letting all of the brightness from outside reach your tired eyes.

-Sleep well darling? did a male voice say in a mocking tone

-Where were you all night? Off to another girl's bed I take it.

The man grinned a bit and you knew your sarcasm would sooner be beaten out of you then you could get a laugh out of this tall caricature of a gangster's handyman.

-A lot of money has been paid for your pretty head, you know.

-Always knew I could be a face model.

-I don't think that's so true anymore, bloody mary.

You wipped your cheek and looked at your hand. Dried blood and dirt covered your fingers.

-Anyway, sweetheart, my boss wants to know how you were able to piss off all of these people.

-Can't he ask me himself?

-You're not that important.

-Well it seems I am actually. And you guys are the only ones unaware of why apparently.

A voice coming from outside shouted "We have a fresh one!". The man in front of you harshly took your hands to tie them. Then he turned around calmly and left the room with the door still open. You tried to get up, but were too slow as he quickly came back with two other men. One was almost unconscious, beaten up, and bloody all other. His messy brown curls hid most of his face and a golden chain hang around his neck as his head was tilted towards the floor. The two men handling him threw him on the ground next to you and his already torn blue suit soiled with the grey dust of the room.

-Alright, we'll let you two rest for now, but don't worry, darling, I'll be back soon enough. And you better have an answer for me by then.

The two men left the room and you stared at your new now completely unconscious companion.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-Where the fuck am I?

He said in a raspy voice, waking you up from your very light sleep. You didn't answer and looked his way for the second time today. He was quite handsome, actually, with piercing blue eyes, a sharp jawline, and a nice British mustache. You stared more than you were meant to because that's how he took notice of you. As the weird girl staring at him.

-They locked me up with the crazys?? What the fuck is wrong with these people?! I'm a respectable sane man, I am. Fucking pricks.

You chukled, your eyes still lingering on his figure. You liked his accent too. You turned your head to the door, finally leaving the man some privacy as you closed your eyes. You heard him standing up with difficulty and reaching the other side of the room probably while leaning on the wall. He was grunting in pain. You opened your eyes.

-Yeah, they probably forgot to lock the door. Or maybe they left us the key. Oh, wait, what if this is just an elaborated escape room, uh?

-Your hands are tied, mines aren't. So maybe try that again in a nicer tone, uh love?

-Kinky...

He threw you a mean glance from across the room. That smug smile that earned you all those problems was still on your lips.

He slid on the wall and fell back in a sitting position. He looked exhausted. As you were trying to think of what to say, the door opened.

-So, are you ready to talk? Or do I need to deal with you in a less calm manner?

That man from earlier was back, smiling and clearly on a power trip.

-I don't know what you want me to tell you.

He walked across the room, past the handsom exhausted man, and stood straight like a stick in front of you.

-Maybe start by what you did to deserve one of the highest price I've ever seen on someone's head.

The british looking man, who was starting to fall asleep, began to pay attention at those words. His blue eyes were on you except you doubted it was to take in the sight of your face. Too bad...

-Would you believe me if I said I didn't do anything?

The handyman squat down, looked at you, and slapped you in the face harshly. Even the other guy flinched.

-Start speaking now or...

-Or what?! You'll kill me?? You're going to do that either way! So what's the point of figuring out why others wanted to do it themselves?! You'll collect the prize with or without knowing why it was put on my head in the first place. You don't need the info. You just need an excuse to keep me alive until the client comes in and sees me alive. I know they want proof. Live proof. They want to see you guys kill me. You're not doing me a favor by letting me live, you're just doing it to get the bigger bag.

The man stood up, hummered something that sounded like "smart cookie", chuckled, and left.

-Jeez... what did you do? *did british hottie say*

This time it was your turn to throw a mean look his way.

-You really think I'm gonna tell you.

-I can untie your hands for starters. And I can help you get out of there. However I like to know who I'm doing business with, so if you wouldn't mind disclosing the information that guy was looking for...

-Get me out of there and I might.

-Doesn't work like that love.

-Then leave me here. I never asked you to help me, did I?

-Obviously, it's going to be harder to escape alone.

-So untie me and I'll help you.

-What if you're actually crazy and will turn on me the first chance you'll get.

You chuckled. Smiled a bit, a sad look on your face.

-A big tough buy.. scared of me... scared I'll be the one to hurt him. It's crazy how life turns out, uh? One minute you're scared to walk home alone after the sun goes down. The other, the guy you would have been scared of on those streets at night turns out to be the one distrusting you.

His eyes were locked on you. Watching you as if you were some lab rat. An eyebrow raised in interest. A serious look that meant he wasn't taking this scientific anaylisis lightly. He rose back up, slowly walked up to you with the difficulty of a hurt man, and lowered to your level when he came close enough.

-What's your name?

-Is it important?

-It is to me. You thought of pointing out the implications of that answer, but were scared of where that would lead the two of you.

-Y/n.

-I'm Tangerine.

-That's a fruit.

-Good observation skills. A real detective.

-I'm just saying.

As you were talking, he came even closer and untied your hands. His fingers were grazing your skin. You smiled again, this time without the sad look on your face but a more embarassed one. Like a young girl with a crush in 6th grade recess. It wasn't that he was touching you (not entirely at least). It was that he was helping you.

He stood back up, straightened his back, and extended his arm towards you, opening his hand. You were looking elsewhere as he gestured to you.

-It is a fruit's name though... you're named after a fucking fruit... and I'm the crazy one...

You take his hand, get off the floor, and smile big this time, confidently, and with a mysteriously cocky look in your eyes.

-Alright, time to get out of here.

-Look love, I appreciate the confidence and all, but let me take the lead on this. You're obviously a bit slowed down by all the beating and like you said, I'm the big tough guy here.

-I'm not slowed down! *You said while starting to walk towards the door, damn your leg hurt...*

-You're limping...

You smiled a bit awkardly. "Nothing serious... just haven't stretched out yet is all". Tangerine smirked and walked (shall I mention a lot faster than you as he wasn't limping) towards the side of the door.

-Could you get your friend back in the room please? Just him though.

-HEY ASSHOLE!! COME BACK HERE I'M READY TO TALK!

And just like that, you heard footsteps advancing. The door opened 40 seconds later, and you locked eyes with the bitch slapping dumb looking goon. In shock of seeing you standing up, free of your ties, he took a milisecond to stare you down during which Tangerine grabbed his head in his hands, quickly broke his neck, and picked up the riffle.

-Could you pass me his handgun?

-You're not gonna kill me are you love?

-I don't eat tangerines... always preferred oranges.

-You do realize that there are other ways to interpete this right?

You laughed silently, murmuring "Yeah well I don't mean it like that obviously...". To your surprise he heard.

-Obviously?... *He smirked at you with a very cocky look on his face which made you blush a tiniest bit, but under the dirt and blood, you were almost sure he couldn't see it. He handed you the deceased goon's gun*.

But, time for banter quickly came to an end as your british eye candy advanced in the dark and gloomy hallway, on his gard. You followed after him. Quick story short: he shot most of the gards himself, and you had to fire the gun maybe 5 times total, surely hitting your target, but not contributing much to the team's effort as there was a little bit more than only 5 gards between you and the exit. To be completely fair though, you guys managed to not alert every guard there thanks to you, as you killed quickly the ones running for help.

All of this came to an end in a backalley of a London restaurant where the fire escape you took led. You were free. Somehow. Still limping and in a quite awful condition. But free.

-Well this is where we say goodbye Y/N. I don't know what you did to get that prize on your head, but surely you must be a terrible person. Get yourself out of trouble though, love, this isn't a life for a sarcastic humorist tangerine hater such as yourself.

-So no one believed me when I said I didn't do anything wrong?

He looked at you, a bit surprised, but you didn't look back. You just started walking (in that case limping) towards the Main Street. It must have been quite a pathetic show as he walked up to you and put his arm under yours to help you. You didn't say anything. Didn't look at him. Just starred at the ground before you, wincing quietly at each step.

-Where shall I drop you off love?

You stopped moving. Chuckled. Looked the other way. And with a sad but desperately trying to be funny tone, said:

-I'm not sure to be quite honest...

He didn't respond. Took a deep breath for a minute. Then put his arm back in place and you both walked towards a phone booth. There he let go again and went in. Made a phone call, went out, starred at you, you starred back.

-Hungry?

You nodded your head to say yes and, wonderful timing as it was, your stomach started growling just then. You put your hand on your stomach as to silence it and Tangerine chuckled which showed off his extraordinary jaw definition.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You both sat on the same side of the table, apparently waiting for someone. As your british knight in a shining armor looked around the diner, you ordered fish and chips, chocolate milkshake, and a banana split. Once you were finished talking to the waiter (who was very disturbed by your bloody appearance by the way), Tangerine looked at you.

-That is the weirdest order I've seen placed in a while.

-Well what did you want me to order?

-Lemon! *Did he exclaim*

-Lemon for dinner? I don't think so, that would be terrible...

Tangerine stood up and hugged the man that came in. Both took a minute to catch up as you continued to mutter on how dumb ordering lemon would be for diner...

They both sat down, and Lemon starred at you.

-Who's that? A bit roughed up are you? Do you need a tissue or something? To wipe all that off...

You looked up from the menu.

-Ah, I look fine, haven't slept in a bit is all.

-Who is she Tangerine?

-That's Y/N, she needs a place to crash and we have a couch, so I thought...

-When did you meet?

-At least 24 hours ago. *You said in all honesty*

-Tangerine are you fucking mental?? Do you know how many people want us dead for what happened last year? We're not inviting a bloody stranger to the hotel. Hell no...

-Lemon... She seems to be on her own and it's not like she couldn't have killed me earlier had she wanted to... Jim's men wanted to sell her off to some kind of client, she's a bit lost is all*He said whispering*

-No! What are we?! A fucking adoption shelter taking in strays like that? She's a liability is all she is... You can't help a girl just cause she's pretty and seems harmless. She could be a hired assassin for all we know.

-I should probably go... I'll just wait for the food though, if it's okay with everyone. *You said looking down and with a low voice.*

You all sat in silence for a minute.

-Why did they want you dead so badly? Jim's clients? *asked Tangerine*

You didn't respond, just looked down. The food came. You ate the fish and chips quite quickly, then the banana split. All in silence. As you sipped on the milkshake, you noticed they were both still starring at you, waiting for you to answer probably.

-Well I meant it... I didn't do anything wrong.

-No one ever does... *sighed Lemon, visibly distrusting of you*

-I'm not an assassin okay? I don't kill people for a living... I find things, things people want. Like antics, or old military files.

-But you're a good shot, and quite calm for a civilian. *Raised Tangerine*

-When I started the job, I was just an academic looking for pretty random stuff, but the work wasn't just adventures and detective work, sometimes criminal organizations looked to acquire the same objects as I was. So I got help from hired gunsmen and sometimes even official special forces. They didn't want me to be helpless without them so they trained me a bit. Once I got a few skills added to my resume, my clients started asking me for more valuable objects, that more and more people wanted. So of course my skillset kind of diverged to dealing with the competition. But it wasn't on the job description when I applied.

-Jim specializes in assassination though? Why would he want you? *Asked Lemon*

-Because there's a bid on my head...

-And why is there a bid on your head?

-Because they think I stole something...

-What did you steal?

You finished the milkshake. You were about to stand up but Tangerine was looking at you a bit too concerned.

-Look Love, if you tell us what happened, and you didn't actually do anything wrong, then we might agree to help you. We're not complete assholes...

-Aren't we?! Now why would we help?

-Because Jim is a prick and anything to piss him off is worth the effort.

-Fair point... Alright Y/N, tell us, what happened?

-They think I stole the key to the MI6 database.

-Wait... don't tell me they have one key that can access...

-All datas on past, present, and future missions, on British government security, on british criminal organizations, on undercover agents, what they have on the CIA, on the FBI, on every other country's secret services, on the nuclear codes... Yeah all of that. Yes it exists.

-And they think you have it...

-No, they think I stole it.

-But then why would they want you dead?

-Because they also think I destroyed it after looking at it.

-And no one wants their secrets spilled out by you...

-Yep.

-But you didn't steal it?

-Not exactly...

-What did you do?

-My client wanted me to recover a file of the MI6. It was practially undoable. So I digged and I digged until I found this hardrive in an old vacant MI6 hideout. It was weird because it looked top secret but didn't have anyone around it to gard it, it was like it was handed to me. I looked at it, didn't have that much protection, just enough for me to think it was valuable, but easy enough to crack down. Then when I accessed it, it was a whole database of incredibly sensible documents. Yeah I looked at it, but not for long, got the file I needed, but before I could send it to my client, someone knocked me unconscious and I woke up without the hard drive but with a billion dollar target on my back. Somehow the information got out that I stole the hard drive from the MI6 super super secret base, which I never even set foot int.

-So someone set you up?

-Yes.

You stopped talking. Looked at them. Lemon looked sorry for you, Tangerine looked concerned, and you... chuckled.

-The bill's on you, right? *You asked in all seriousness.*

Tangerine smiled, and lemon was about to refuse, but his brother replied first.

-Yeah, the bill's on us love, but maybe let me eat first, okay?

-Are you gonna eat a fruit?

-You know I've already ordered right, and this joke's old already.

You waited for the two brothers' food to arrive while Lemon changed the subject to whatever happened to Tangerine. Apparently Jim and his men had some beef with the fruit brothers, and those nice lads had a plan to take down Jim's goons except it all went wrong when Lemon made one too many references to Thomas the train... ah no, it went wrong when Tangerine took too long in the bathroom to check his hair, well something went wrong, and, ah the food arrived!

-Where's your family Y/N? *Lemon asked*

-Countryside.

-So you have one. Do you want us to drop you off with them?

You didn't reply right away. They were almost fininshed with their food. You waited until the plates were clean to say:

-Look, if you want to drop me off somewhere and forget I ever existed, take me to the airport, I can look after myself, but don't think my story is gonna have some fairytale ending. Obviously I'm gonna get killed at some point or another, I'm just trying to enjoy my time until then.

-It's not like we can make the entire criminal world stop looking for you. I would help you, you see, but I don't know how. Honestly, you're kinda fucked...

-Don't listen to him -*Tangerine jumped in*- You're not fucked, you just have to diverge the attention to whoever has the key. Once people start looking for them, they'll forget about you.

-The problem is, I don't know who has the key. If I did, not only would I be off the hook, I'd be damn rich.

-Hold on... *Lemon stared at you for a moment* How much money is in the game?

-More than a billion that's for sure...

The two brothers starred at each other not sure what to say for a minute. Tangerine turns back to you and is about to speak when Lemon says:

-Let's make a deal, we help you find whoever got the key, it gets the target off your back, and we get 2/3rds of the money. You get the rest.

-I'll make you one better. *You smile fully, showing your teeth and visibly amused* You get all the money, as long as I'm still alive.

-Deal! *Lemon extands the palm of his hand which you clap right away*

As the three of you head to whichever hotel the brothers booked in a cab, Tangerine whispers to you:

-For the record, I was ready to help you regardless of the money.

-That's stupid. You shouldn't do that.

-What's stupid is being a big though guy and not helping people who so clearly need it.

You looked at him for bit. The same look you gave him in that cell when you first saw him. "Fuck you're actually so beautiful" you thought.

-Thanks. Not the reply I would have expected, but thanks.

Sleep deprivation clearly made you a tad bit lunatic, saying stuff you weren't supposed to. You looked away immediately and rested your head against the window. Closing your eyes felt like heaven.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The hotel was old and cheap, the late 80s style still intact. You liked it. Starred at the curtains of the room as the sound of the shower filled the silence. You closed your eyes.

-The shower is free. May I suggest you take one before going to bed love?

You woke up with a dizzy head, you really wanted to go back to your nap, but the guy standing in front of you wasn't budging.

-Are you saying I smell bad?

-Yeah, I am. Get up now.

You did, he held up a hand for you to take it which you did as you were more than tired. He didn't let go when you were up though and led you to the bathroom. You weren't sure where Lemon had gone to. He turned the shower on, pointed to the soap, and said:

-I reckon you know how to shower. Won't need my help for the next part then.

You grinned a bit and looked at him, he smiled. After he left, (and only after), you started undressing and finally took the shower. Once you turned the water off, he knocked on the door.

-Are you decent?

You grabbed a towel and answered positively. He came in, took a glance at you, closed the door, and stood in front of you for a second. His eyes went from your wet hair whose natural color was finally visible, your face which was now recognizable, your clean skin, your bruises, and then back to your face. He had some medical products in his hand and gestured to the bathtub. You took a seat on the edge of it. He dabbed a cotton in disinfectant, and slowly went over every single one of your cuts. They were quite a lot of them.

-Jesus, how many days did you stay in that place?

-Just a couple hours before you came in.

-Where are all these marks from then?

-Other people.

The last injury was your cut lip. He went over it delicately and you just starred at him for the third time this week.

-You're quite sweet for an assassin.

-Are you gonna make another fruit joke?

-Saw right through me... No but really, why the kindness?

-Just because you do some bad stuff for money doesn't mean you have to be an asshole for free too now does it?

-Thank you.

-You're not saved yet, thank me when you are.

-I will.

You both smiled, this time he was looking right back at you. Nice blue eyes like antartic ice. Really, really nice eyes.

-I'm back. *Lemon shouted from the room. He then entered the bathroom looking for his brother and his gaze settled on you.* You look quite nice without all the blood and dirt on you. Oh, wait, guys... Did I walk in on something?

Tangerine scoffs, gets up, and pushes Lemon out the bathroom. You hear them banter for a second before Tangerine comes back with a bag that he hands you. He politely smiles at you and exits the room, closing the door behind him. You go through the bag to realize your old clothes are no longer in condition to be worn and two men who were complete strangers a week ago just had to guess the size of your bras and panties. What was even more awkward is that the ones they bought fit quite well. The rest of the bag was some blue jeans, a black halter top, and a loose shoulder black sweater which you liked. You didn't put it on though, opened the door without getting out and asked for a t shirt. No way you were sleeping in jeans for 12 hours straight. A t shirt flew right to your face a second after. Probably Tangerine's guessing by the smell. He smelled nice. But not the point. You put it on and finally got to fully crash out on the couch. You couldn't move anymore, too tired, too comfy, you were just there. Before falling asleep, you saw the handsome brit throw a blanket on you trying not to look at your figure.

You woke up a bit lost, not sure where you were or how long you had slept for. A few seconds brought your memory back and your eyes adjusted to the light. Tangerine was there. Sitting at the desk typing away on a computer, his back turned to you. You got up and walked towards him. You were standing just a few centimeters away as you leaned over his shoulder and stared at the screen.

-What's that? *You asked*

-Holy... fuck, have you heard of heart attacks??

-You're that old? Don't look a day over 50. Are you trying to hack into the MI6?

-Well obviously yes.

-From a cheap retro looking computer?

-Do you have a better idea?

He then realized you weren't wearing pants. To which he gave you a disapproving look over his mustache and continued:

-Maybe start by wearing some pants before attacking the cheapness of my computer.

-Pants are overrated.

-I'm sure they are. *He turned back to the screen. You sat on the desk, facing him.*

-If my legs disturb you so much, stop looking at them.

-Get off the desk. You know for someone getting threats from half the criminal population, you're surely quite calm.

You hummed, got off the desk as prompted, and went to get the jeans from yesterday. However, he stood up and grabbed your hand before you could get fully away.

-Alright maybe you don't need to put pants on right away. *You turned your face to him, starring into his eyes* I was right though, when we met. You are really crazy.

-For not wearing jeans to sleep?

-For flirting in the middle of a life or death situation. *He pulled you in closer.*

-Who said I was flirting? *You closed the last gap between you two*

-Me. *He leaned in to kiss your lips*

[princessmaybank]

Ride The Cowboy

Pairings: JJ x BestFriend!Fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI, riding, creampie

Summary: JJ got a new cowboy hat and reader has no idea about the rule.

Authors Note: I had a smut written for a request. It was JJ and reader with the cowboy hat rule but it got deleted! It was anonymous so I hope whoever requested this sees it and enjoys!!!

(Edit: I changed the gif bc he's got a cowboy hat on 🤭 idk who these belong to but they aren't mine so credit to whoever made these!)

JJ found this random black cowboy hat at one of our shops in town. I didn't think he was serious when he said he wanted to buy it because it's not even his style.

Anyway he's been wearing it for a fucking week, trying to act all country and it's so fucking annoying. He has started using a country accent trying to be funny, but it was just so, so lame.

We were at the boneyard having the time of our lives. JJ and I were dancing together, giggling and having some normal fun, until he started talking like he was from Texas.

I was so fed up. I reached for his hat and threw it onto my head. "Look at me, I'm JJ, all I ever do is talk with an accent and twirl around in my cowboy hat!!" I said, very annoyed with a terrible attempt at a country accent.

JJ was staring at me in awe, which got the attention of our friend Pope, whose jaw went slack as well. Pope walked over and rested his arm on JJ's shoulder. "She doesn't know does she?" Pope looked at JJ with the most dead serious look I've ever seen. What the hell was he talking about???

"I don't think she does." He grinned and started laughing. His cheeks flushed red as he looked at his feet then back to Pope. "What are you talking about?!" I asked frantically. "Have fun cowboy." Pope said patting JJ's back while walking away. I give JJ a questioning look.

He got extremely close to my body, yet he was still towering over me. Damn this boy was tall. JJ took my hands in his. "You don't know the cowboy hat rule?" He asked smirking down at me. "These things have fucking rules too???" He giggled. "Yes but this one is probably the most important." Somehow he got closer, which was surprisingly not as uncomfortable as I thought. "What is it??" I asked getting annoyed because he was playing games at this point.

"Wear the hat, ride the cowboy."

His face never changed from that smug little smirk, but my eyes got wide. I hit his chest, he was my best friend. "No way Maybank, that's probably something you made up to get you laid." He grinned. "It's not I swear, if you don't believe me look it up."

Unfortunately I did, and he was right. It was some kind of sick joke. "Well I didn't know so it doesn't count!" I crossed my arms. "Hey, rules are rules baby." He was holding my hips now. Why were butterflies filling my stomach? I've never thought of JJ this way. It would be so wrong. "So is no pogue on pogue macking!" I say trying my hardest to find a way out of this, but of course he's ready for whatever I say. "First of all, John B and Sarah are right over there, basically eating each other's faces. Second of all, it's not macking, it's riding baby." He smiled to himself because he knew he won.

JJ walked us to the Twinkie, where we wouldn't be bothered. "You just want an excuse to fuck your best friend!" I say fighting the best I could. "I could say the same about you! I didn't tell you to steal my hat! And you're still wearing it!" He laughs so hard after he gets his sentence out. I was blushing when I quickly took his hat off and threw it at him.

I was hovering over him, very anxious. He had a huge grip on my hips. "We do not have to do this if you don't want to." He says while holding me up. "JJ, I'm already naked. Plus you said it, rules are rules." Before I could change his mind or my own, I started easing myself down onto his dick. JJ let out a slight hissing sound as I went lower. Not gonna lie, I did need to get fucked. It was probably why I found him so annoying this week.

JJ helped me move at a pace that made us both feel good. "Come here." He pulled me in with a motion of his finger. "Might as well break a rule while we're at it." He smirked before attaching his lips to mine. JJ sat up and put his back against the seat, never pulling out. I pulled his hands away from my hips and to my tits, making him squeeze them as I bounced on his dick all by myself. I couldn't believe I was riding my best friend.

"Fuck Y/N/N don't stop." Woah. JJ called me by my nickname while I was bouncing on his huge cock. How fucking hot. Can't believe I'm saying this but I think I'm catching feelings in the middle of all of this. "Fuck I'm cumming!" I yell as my body starts spasming, I feel his dick shoot his hot liquid into me after I was done. JJ pushed my hips up and down, helping us ride out our orgasms.

He started spooning me after I put my clothes back on and laid down. "JJ I don't wan-" Before I could finish he interrupted me. "Y/N, I can't handle it anymore. I need to be with you, especially now. Now that I've had a little taste of you, I don't think I could let you go and just continue being just your best friend." He was hovering over me now. "I was thinking the same thing." That made us both smile.

We popped up when we heard the side door slam open. "I'm assuming she followed the rules?" Pope giggled staring at JJ, making him giggle as well. They high fived as I rolled over to hide in JJ's chest.

[mydearesthrry]

honeyed mornings - h.s.

a/n: new universe perhaps? dadrry with y/n and little miss daisy... love you, enjoy!

🎀 warnings/cw: nothing, fluff, the sweetest little girl you ever did see, dadrry (again, a warning of its own), one f bomb

🐇 pairing: dad/husbandrry x fem!reader

💐 wc: 1.2k

summary: the little princess is in a chatty mood, and more home videos are born.

“Hi mama,” Harry purrs, a soft rasp in his voice as he walks into their shared bedroom. “What’re you doin’ up so early?” 

“Couldn’t sleep. Little peanut over here decided to come run into the room ten minutes after her Daddy left for his run.” She smiles widely, a happy gleam in her eyes at the sight of Harry being home. 

“Really? Well that jus’ won’t do. Had y’up until three last night, Mama. Y’need your sleep." A boyish grin graced Harry's features at the mention of the night prior, earning an eye roll from his wife. How ‘bout I come back in here after I shower and we have a lazy day in? Can keep baby bunny in here so if she wakes up I can take care of her, if y’want. Sounds good?” YN couldn’t lie and say she didn’t get distracted watching her husband pad around their large room, slowly pulling off his clothes while he gathered things for his shower. She didn’t even realize that he’d stopped talking and just stood on her side of the bed, a mischievous look in his eyes. “Helloooo, is there anyone home?” 

A giggle sounded in the spacious area. “Sorry, baby. Just got distracted. What did you say?” 

“Nothing at all, lovie. Wait up for me, yeah? Be back in twenty minutes, tops.” With that he placed a soft kiss onto her forehead, brushing back her hair that had gone awry in the time he’d been gone, and walked over to the connected bathroom. 

While she scrolled on her phone to pass time, her sweet daughter had woken up. “Good morning, sweet Daisy.” 

“Hi mommy,” A yawn cut off the tiny girl, her hands coming up to her face to knuckle her eyes. “Is Daddy home?”

YN was about to answer before she heard Harry’s soft voice ring in the air. “Hi Tiny!” Harry’s voice made their daughter perk up, sitting up slightly while still in the crook of her mothers arm. Clad in a pair of basketball shorts with a towel in his hand drying his hair, he wore a loud and bright smile proudly. “Good morning, baby!”

“Daddy!” She squealed, making grabby hands toward Harry who immediately threw the towel onto a nearby chair, walking over to the bed in record speed. Pulling back the covers, he hopped in with no hesitation, grabbing his little girl and placing her on his stomach. They were chest to chest, faces mere inches apart, giggles coming out of his daughter's lips when he pulled a few funny faces and crossed his eyes for the sole purpose of hearing her laugh. 

Unbeknownst to the two of them, distracted in their own little world, YN was hiding her giggles behind her phone screen that was recording the two of them interacting. “Good mooooorning,” She started, introducing the start of a new home video. “Today is… August 4th, been off tour for a good while now, Daddy and Peanut decided to get their day started early.”

“Tha’s me! ‘M Peanut!” Daisy shrieked, her little three year old voice bellowed. A soft pout made it’s way onto Harry’s lips at the sound of her small voice. She was so fucking cute.

“Yeah bunny, y’are Peanut!” He grinned, kissing the top of her head that she’d dropped down on his chest, her face turned toward her mom. 

“Where are we, little Bunny?” YN asked sweetly, reaching out to push a few unruly curls that had fallen into her daughter's face.

“Home!” She giggled. 

“Which home, baby?” Harry said, lips still in her hair. 

“The one with the water!” A cute drawl had made its way into her voice, unmistakably stolen from her father and his heavy accent. 

“She means Italy, if these ever get posted… or leaked,” YN joked, knowing she’d probably release a few of these videos one day anyway. “Anyway, we’re in Italy, and we’re honestly having like… the time of our lives.” 

“Mm,” Harry hummed in agreement. “Think this is one o’the most like, relaxing times we’ve had in Italy s’far.” 

“Yeah!” Daisy agreed, not even fully knowing what her father was saying but agreeing nonetheless. 

“Yeah, Bunny? Y’agree w’Daddy?” He smiled, pulling her from his chest to lay in the middle of him and his wife. Him and his tiny twin turned over at the same time, facing YN. Harry threw an arm over the two of them, hand coming over to rest on the slightly exposed skin of her thigh. She had on a large shirt that she’d thrifted from a random place in LA, nothing covering her lower half besides a pair of black cotton panties. The duvet came up to about her mid-thigh, which lay at Harry’s hip, and just covered Daisy’s calves. 

“Yeah! Love Daddy! Daddy’s pretty– oh! But Mommy’s so pretty!” She babbled random things often, words coming together in a nonsensical stew.

“Oh, why thank you, sweet baby.” YN laughed, leaning forward to drop a kiss onto her daughter's forehead. 

“Y’so sweet, little lady, aren’t ya?” Harry tickled the side of Daisy’s body, shrill giggles and loud laughter filling the air in a cast of yellow, the sun coming in through the blinds which accentuated their golden aura.

Wherever the little family went, love seemed to trail them in soft streaks of honeyed light.

“Sweets?” Their daughter perked up. 

“Nonono, I said y’are sweet, baby, not sweets.” Harry tried to backtrack, but it was no use. 

“Wan’ sweets! Sweets now, Daddy!” Both of her parents took a deep inhale, knowing that this was going to be an ordeal that lasted until noon, at best. They had a strict ‘no sugar before 12’ rule, one that Daisy was usually an angel to follow if she woke up at her normal time… which she hadn’t today. But the two of them also knew that Harry was basically a doormat for his daughter, and if she even asked in her sweet little voice, he would be persuaded without a word of detest.

“Oh God– Okay, we’re gonna say goodbye to the camera now before Daddy gets your sweets for you, okay?” YN said, sitting up and pulling up the covers to keep herself decent as she twisted her wrist for the camera to capture all three of them in frame. 

“Bye bye! See y’later!” Daisy waved her tiny hand. 

“Bye f’now, see y’soon!” Harry followed after her, sitting up as well and pulling his tiny girl into his lap. 

“Byeeeeee!” YN giggled, leaning into Harry’s side when she felt his arm wrap around his waist. 

She clicked her volume button to end the video, immediately going to her camera roll to watch it despite it being freshly recorded. She started the video on a low volume, a happy glow encasing her features. Harry watched on in awe, a blush covering his cheeks, love filling his eyes and making his eyes water slightly. He didn't ever believe he would get this-- get them.

“Sweets, Daddy?” Daisy giggled. 

“Yeah, m’love, sweets.” And to absolutely no one's surprise, he caved. Harry stood from the bed, his hands underneath Daisy’s armpits as he hiked her up over his shoulder, her top half dangling from his body. Loud giggles and laughs filled the air as she lifted a hand to wave at her mom. 

“Bye Mama!” 

“Bye, baby!” 

So much for a lazy day, right?

[24-2-25]

❝YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!❞ ― sim jake

synopsis | you’re notorious for you’re bad luck in dodgeball. seems like the cute boy from your math class also has bad luck, considering he’s always there to keep you company on the ‘out’ wall.

wc | 1.1k

pairings | jake x fem!reader

genre | one shot, fluff

tw | dodgeball??

note | i wrote this in like 2022… it’s finally out 😼

you were notorious for your bad luck in the horrid hell game, also known as dodgeball.  Everyone in you class knew it, your sigh can be heard through crowd when the game is announced. 

As a person who isn’t a widely known dodgeball champ, you decide to a stick near the back where it seems the safest. 

wrong. 

lo and behold, as you stood near the back corner of the gym hiding from the treacherous foam balls, a purple ball comes flying and hits you hard on the shoulder. 

“ow fuck!” you hissed holding your shoulder. your classmate on the other side cheers and high fives one of his friends. 

ew teenage boys are all the same, prepubescent, smelly and far from mature. 

you sat on the edge of the wall where all of hit students stayed. 

you sat your back against the wall and as you got comfortable, a soft “hi” came from above you. 

“oh jake hey.” you respond, still holding your shoulder from the impact. 

“ah sorry about that! beomgyu gets a little competitive when it comes to pe class.” a sheepish smile appeared on his face as he apologized. 

“nah it’s all good, it’s not like this was the first time.” you laughed it off. 

his face brightened at your laugh, a pointy smile forming on his face. 

“yeah you always seem to be on this wall. it’s almost as if there’s a reserved spot for you!” his cute giggles fill your ears. 

okay you take it back, not all teenage boys were smelly and immature. especially not jake. he was the sweetest, kindest, most athletic and academic boy in your class. not to mention his insanely good looks and cute australian accent.

with that he was the most sought out boy of your grade, and you were glad that you could call him one of your friends. at least you hope he considered you a friend. after all he always talked and texted you. 

“i’m surprised you’re here. you’re like so athletic.” you smiled at him. 

“oh you know.. we all have our weaknesses.”

for example you, and he thinks that’s his biggest one. 

jake couldn’t remember when he started to like you. your magnetic and captivating personality seemed to catch his eye the first time he saw you interact with your friends. 

he couldn’t forget your pretty face and cute smile. and the sound of your laugh? best sound to ever bless his ears. 

maybe it was when you offered to show him around without being told to when he first moved from australia. maybe it was your alluring kindness and generosity. he couldn’t tell for sure, but he did know that he wanted to be yours.

“that’s funny, who knew the most athletic kid would be bad at dodge ball.” you stated and he laughed and shrugged.  

“you always seem to get hit around the same time as me though. it’s like fate.” you added, laughing. 

he flushes a bit and laughs. 

“i’d hope it is.” he whispers. 

your teacher announced a jail break and you sigh, getting up from the wall and walking towards the back of the gym. 

you had a good 5 minutes of peace before a dodge ball comes rushing and hit you square in the face.

“OW!” you screech. it was foam but damn the shit hurt. the person who threw that put his blood, sweat and tears in that. 

“SORRY!” a your friend jisung screamed and ran up to you. 

“han jisung you did not just hit me in the face.” you sighed annoyed holding your nose.

“my bad y/n. I’m sorry!” he tried comforting you. 

you let go of your nose, then a red streak of blood came rushing out of your nostril. 

“it’s fine-”

“shit y/n! your nose is bleeding!” he cut you off and screamed. 

you wiped your nose with you finger and saw blood, cursing under your breath. 

“i’ll help you and bring you to the offi-” he offered. 

“hey jisung i can take her i’m out anyways!”. jake came running toward you guys. you didn’t care who came with you, you just needed to get there. 

“okay thanks jake!” jisung smiled, getting back into the game. 

“let’s go quick y/n.” he ushered you out of the gym. by then, your nose was bleeding on to your sleeves. 

once you got into the office and sat with a tissue in your nose, you suddenly felt a rush of embarrassment. 

“oh god that was so embarrassing!” you cried. 

jake who was sitting next to you with a tissue box in hand giggled a bit. “no! it wasn’t.”

“you’re laughing!” you sighed, pouting at him. 

“thanks for taking me here by the way. if jisung came with me he’d probably cause chaos in here.” 

“nah it’s nothing.” he stated calmly, passing you another tissue. 

“no you really didn’t need to do that.” you smiled while taking the tissue and changing it out with you old one. 

“it’s funny that you got out at the same time though. again on accident i can’t believe it!” 

“yeah on accident.” he sounded guilty?

“wait you did it on purpose?” you rose a brow.

“uh…no.” 

“yes you did. why?” you questioned. 

“because i wanted to be close to you.” 

your mind was buzzing with questions and confusion. why would he want to be close to you? why would he lose on purpose? he loves sports. 

“you see, i’ve kinda liked you since last year and i never really get the time to see you unless it’s gym or math class.” he suddenly got shy and avoided you gaze. 

“huh? me? why?” you asked, confused. why would he like you? you didn’t consider yourself as pretty nor did he ever show interest in you before. where did this come from. 

“it’s okay if you don’t like me bac-”

“i like you too.” you blushed. 

“wait really?” his eyes widened. 

“why wouldn’t i? you so sweet and smart and like amazing. why do you like me?”

“your just-“ he sighs almost lovingly and you immediately knew. 

you laugh. “you’re silly! why would you lose purposely at a game to sit with me by the wall?”

“because i can’t talk to you otherwise, only on texts.”

“whatever goof, let’s go back to class.” you laughed again, getting up. 

“fine, but only if you agree to a date with me?” he asked, extending his hand. 

“sure, jake.” you smile, taking his hand and exiting the office. 

maybe your bad luck in dodgeball wasn’t so bad. 

© @24-2-25 est. 2024

[luvzshy]

young miko and Argentine / Uruguayan reader doing a live where r does her makeup, like even trying that Puerto Rican' accent (itssohotplsKASKAHSKJA) just to be silly ? i knew i told ya but i just love ur pfp ñom

a/n: HERE U GO BABYYYYY MUWAA

Glimmer

The camera flickered on, the soft glow of your ring light casting a gentle glow across both of you as the chat immediately buzzed with excitement. Miko sat in front of you, grinning ear to ear, her legs crossed at the ankle, her straight, dark hair falling neatly to one side. You had a table set up with brushes, palettes, and everything you needed for the live stream makeup session, and as you glanced at her reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t help but admire how stunning she looked, even without makeup.

Leaning in, you flashed a teasing smirk, your lips brushing near her ear as you whispered just loud enough for the stream to catch. “Alright, mi amor,” you began, picking up the foundation brush, “let’s make you look even more stunning… if that’s even possible.”

Miko tilted her head toward you, her hair shifting slightly as she let out a soft giggle, her eyes sparkling. “Oye, you better not mess this up. I got high standards,” she teased, her Puerto Rican accent coming through thick and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Trust me, nena,” you said, this time dragging out your attempt at her accent with exaggerated slowness, “voy a hacerte ver bien brutal, bebecita.” You leaned in even closer, pressing a light kiss to the tip of her ear before pulling back with a playful grin.

The live chat exploded in real-time, hearts and comments flooding the screen as Miko threw her head back, her laughter echoing in the room. “¡Ay, por favor!” she gasped, catching her breath between laughs, “That accent though! You sound like someone’s tía from Miami trying to be Puerto Rican.” She swatted at you, her eyes full of playful fire.

You dodged, laughing along with her, before letting your fingers trace her jawline. Your voice dropped slightly, playful yet intimate, as you leaned even closer. “You think it’s funny now, but give me five more minutes. You won’t be laughing then, nena.”

“Dale, dale,” she responded, but her teasing tone was now softer, more intimate as her eyes met yours in the mirror, holding your gaze for a second longer. “But seriously, that accent… it’s so bad, but it’s doing something to me.” She bit her lip, sending a slow, deliberate wink your way.

Your fingers faltered slightly as you held the lipstick in your hand, the atmosphere in the room shifting just enough to make your heart race. “Oh, now you’re getting me all flustered,” you murmured, half-joking but half-serious, your voice dropping into a lower register.

Miko leaned forward slightly, her fingers brushing against your knee under the table. “Flustered? That’s not what I was going for, but I like the sound of that,” she whispered, her tone playful, but there was something undeniably sensual behind it. The comments in the chat were flying, but it was like the two of you were in your own little world now.

You cleared your throat, shaking off the haze of attraction with a chuckle. “Alright, babe, enough of that or you’ll make me mess up this lipstick,” you warned, twirling the tube of deep red lipstick between your fingers with exaggerated confidence.

She leaned back into the chair, but her eyes never left yours. “I’ll behave. For now. But don’t think I’m not going to get you back later,” she teased, her voice low as she bit her bottom lip again, her eyes dark and half-lidded.

As you carefully applied the lipstick, the tension between you two simmered just beneath the surface, your fingers lingering near her lips a little longer than necessary. Miko’s breath hitched ever so slightly, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth.

“All done,” you whispered softly, pulling back just enough to admire your handiwork. But your eyes drifted back to hers, and you saw the same heat in her gaze that you felt burning inside you.

Miko’s fingers lingered against yours for a moment before she pulled back, her lips curving into a slow smile. She sat back in the chair, admiring her reflection, but it was clear that her focus wasn’t just on the makeup.

“You know,” she started, her voice soft and a little teasing, “you might just be as good at makeup as you are at making me laugh.”

You leaned forward again, your eyes locked on hers in the mirror. “Well, I aim to please, mi reina.”

Her eyes flicked back to yours, the smile fading into something more serious, more intimate. The playfulness from earlier was still there, but it was laced with a deeper connection, an unspoken understanding between the two of you. You watched as her gaze lowered to your lips for just a moment, the tension between you thick enough to cut through.

The chat continued to buzz, but all the noise faded into the background. It was just you and Miko now.

“Come here,” she whispered, barely audible over the excitement in the comments. You stepped closer, and she reached up, curling her fingers lightly around your wrist to pull you down so you were eye-level with her.

Before you could react, her lips met yours—soft, gentle, but with a hint of urgency. The kiss wasn’t meant for the live audience, but for you. Her lips lingered, warm and firm, as your free hand cupped her cheek, your heart racing in sync with hers. The kiss deepened for just a second before she pulled back, the teasing spark back in her eyes.

“Now that’s how you make me look stunning,” she murmured, her breath warm against your lips, her grin returning as she leaned back in the chair.

You blinked, catching your breath, a slow smile spreading across your face. “You’re not supposed to mess up the lipstick, Miko,” you teased, but the warmth in your voice gave you away.

Miko gave a light shrug, completely unapologetic. “Worth it.”

The comments exploded in real-time, but as you exchanged a look with her, it was clear: this moment was just for the two of you.

[bellesdreamyprofile]

chapter 2 - 1943

It had been officially one year since the Martin family had become the Presley's neighbor. Ever since that day, the two kids grew closer and closer to the point of little Elvis going to class with her.

"Mr Presley, you know you're not allowed in this class—"

"Sorry ma'am. I gotta watch her today. Her mama's orders.", he responded to the teacher, crossing his arms on his chest. Cece giggled at his silly actions, being fully aware that she didn't need anyone watching her. The little boys rolled their eyes at his actions, though the girls joined in with Cece's giggles.

"We're learning the letter C, Mr Presley.", stated the teacher, raising an eyebrow at him. "Would you like to demonstrate on the black board?", she showed him a piece of chalk. Elvis looked at Cece, whose eyes were already on him as if she was amazed by him knowing the letter C. And the whole alphabet for that matter. That feeling never got old — and with him only being eight years old — the admiration those brown eyes held for him. He couldn't describe the pride he felt in him, whenever she looked at him doing something so small and useless. As little or stupid the action was, Cecilia thought that Elvis was one smart boy.

So he stood up and moved to the board, grasping the piece of chalk from the teacher's palm. But he was in no way smart in school. Just the way he grasped the chalk made the teacher sigh, since she was the one who had Elvis in the same class years prior. He began dragging the chalk on the black board, the screeching making the kids cover their ears. Cece giggled at him and shook her head a little. The line finally curved and the letter C was done, but Elvis didn't seem to have finished yet.

"We haven't learned the letter E yet, Mr Presley."

"I'm showing them kids a new letter, ma'am."

C E —

"And we're repeating them letters. So you'll remember forever and ever. Ain't that right, ma'am?", he finished writing another C and E to the ones on the board and looked at the teacher with a smug face. He handed her the chalk and moved to Cecilia, whose eyes were mesmerized once again. He took a seat beside her and looked at her with a small smile.

"What does that say?", his eyes moved to the board until they found hers once again.

C E C E 

"I-Is that my n-name?", she whispered, meeting his eyes. His lips twitched into a small smile before he nodded at her.

"And what does it say?"

"Cece?"

He confirmed and laughed a little. Elvis looked around and no one seemed to pick on the fact that it was someone's name written on the board. Especially that it was her name.

"Little one?", she turned to look at him. "Don't they know it's your name on the board?"

"Everyone calls me Cecilia here.", Elvis nodded, though something felt off. Up until lunch break the two giggled as Elvis threw paper balls at boys and as they turned to face him he looked away, lowly whistling under his breath. Cece couldn't believe she had the funniest friend in the world. With their paper bags in their hand, Cece led them in the garden, spotting a tree.

"We ain't eating in the cafeteria today, Cece?", his words made her turn around, though her brown eyes never found his. She silently sat down under the tree with her back against the rough bark and pulled a cookie out of her paper bag. Gladys made enough for both Elvis and Cece to bring as their lunch.

"Cece? You good?", Elvis sat down beside her and set the bag on the ground. "You usually eat at the cafeteria, right?", yet again, there was no answer from her. Though as he was about to ask again, he noticed her little eyes filled up with tears as she sadly munched on a cookie.

"Hey, hey, it's all good. Ain't no need to cry if you don't wanna eat at the cafeteria—"

"I ain't got no friends, Elvis. I ain't got no one to eat with.", his heart warmed at the sound of his accent rubbing off on her, though it broke at the same time as she spoke the words. How couldn't she have any friends? Someone as funny and sweet and caring as her?

He didn't know what to tell her. "You've got me.", he chose to say that. Her little fist rubbed against her eye as she finally looked up at him. "I don't know what them kids think, Cece, but you're the funniest little girl I know."

"I'm not little.", Cece murmured under her breath and Elvis pointed it out. "See? You're the funniest.", her lips formed a small smile and her little hands tried to break the cookie in half, though it revealed to be an impossible mission since it crumbled everywhere. She handed one half to Elvis, who smiled in return. Brown eyes gazed up at the sky, noticing the blue color and the bright green from the leaves.

"Your tree is better.", she said, making Elvis look up as well. "My tree?"

"The one with the tree house.", he laughed at her answer and agreed with her. "I picked my tree carefully."

"I thought that was the only tree in your backyard—"

"Okay, how about you finish that cookie and we go freshen up, yes?", Cece laughed at his silly words and stood up, following his lead.

Coming home from school was never too much fun, especially when the weather was so hot that it physically drained one. Also Gladys was very strict with homework — that was the first thing that needed to be done. The two kids ditched the rules for once and moved to the tree house, where they were enjoying a cold lemonade and, you guessed it, a cookie. Though Elvis was holding something Cece hadn't seen in his grasp before.

"Whatcha got there?", she eagerly asked, making him shake his head slowly.

"Have some patience, Cece.", he mumbled and showed her what he had been hiding the entire time. 

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

"Why is the boy flying?", she asked and that made him laugh out loud.

"I got this from the library at school. It's hard to get books from other countries. But I found this."

"Why?"

"There's war.", he answered, making her eyebrows furrow.

"That's sad."

"Yeah.", Elvis looked at the book cover. "He's not flying. He's on a planet."

"And then?"

"And then what?", Cece tilted her head, looking at him curiously. 

"What happens?"

"I don't know."

"Why?", Elvis looked down as he mumbled incoherently under his breath. She didn't hear him though, but since his little ears started turning red, she thought it had to be good.

"Whadya say, Elvis?"

"I said, I'd try to read it for ya.", his words were now loud and clear. She couldn't believe her ears. So she squealed, making Elvis flinch. "This is the best day of my life!", but when she hugged him so tight, with her head pressed against his chest, almost feeling her rapid heart beat, he was sure that his poor reading could've made her day even better.

"Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest... "

Extract from the Little Prince Chapter One

index chapter 3

[zombholic]

☆ 𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 ☆

tw: kinda physical fighting

you wake up to your brothers stupid make believe band conjuring up all the random notes to their stupid instruments to make any sound they possibly can. your blood boiling from getting woken up you barged into your garage, slamming the door open you walked right up behind your older brother, pushing his back roughly.

“what the fuck y/nn! what!” he turned around, shouting at you, his face now covered with annoyance and anger. “can you turn that shit down?! i will tell mom! you woke me up!” you yelled back, basically seeing the steam come out of your ears.

“did we wake the beast from hibernation?” the short haired brunette spoke up, her hands dropping from her bass guitar that was painted a blood red. “fuck off abby you can’t even sing” giving her a dirty look before walking back inside your house “if you guys keep being loud i will break y’all’s faces” you slammed the door shut before going back to your room.

being woken up too early you decided you might as well go hangout with your friends, quickly doing your usual morning routine you threw on some leggings and a oversized hoodie and your bootleg ugg’s you got from like jcpenny’s, they were still cute though. grabbing your car keys you quickly went downstairs to tell your mom you were going out.

meeting up with them at ellie’s house, you guys passed the joint around, giggling mess, dazed eyes looking at each other. “dude, wait oh my god” you spoke up all of a sudden with a mind like einstein, “aren’t all accents just mocking each other?” you sat up causing jesse, dina and ellie to start contemplating as well. “oh my god guys, guess what fucking abby had the audacity to say to me this morning!” you were still very upset. “what muscle mommy say now” dina hollered, literally crying at her nickname for anderson.

“listen shh, she said ‘did we wake the beast from hibernation’ like who the hell is she to talk to me like that in my own house, you rolled your eyes, jesse busted out laughing. “i’m sorry, y/nn, abby can be funny sometimes” “nuh uh! she’s a bitch and i hope she gets ran over by a semi.”

ever since your brother started that little stupid four people band in high school, abby the only one who stuck out like a sore thumb for being the biggest asshole. you guys were always at each other’s throats about something as stupid as eating the last fruit cup. she always managed to hop her ass on every single nerve in my body and she enjoyed it so much, she loved ruthlessly annoying you.

—

it had been a couple of hours and you needing to come back home because your mom was going on her twenty-four night shift at the hospital. opening your front door you saw abby and your brother, naveed, playing on his playstation. those two being too into a really stupid round in fortnite to even notice you, making your way into your room you had changed into a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, the ac in the house never seeming to work.

slipping on some socks you walked into your kitchen to make some ramen noodles, still hungry from the leftover munchies. kneeling down to grab a pot to boil some water in, right as you got back up you bumped into someone. turning around and groaning in annoyance “personal space weirdo, all up in my bubble” abby gave you a disgusted look after the comment, grabbing some ingredients to make a sandwich “what bubble? your big ass head is a bubble" she went on to making a sandwich. "fuck you abby, i really wanna strangle you sometimes!" you groaned out of frustration.

abby putting down what she was doing, turning her head to look at you with the stern face, getting up and slowly she cornered you into a wall "do it, you're just a bitch who barks" her harsh blue eyes gazed down at you. "fuck you abigail" you pushed at her chest, trying to get out of the suffocating situation. grabbing your wrists she manhandled you to bend over the island, one hand gripping your hands behind your back and her other on the back of your neck.

"abby let me fucking go" you squealed trying to squirm out of her deadly grip, she grabbed a fist full of your hair pulling you onto her front, you could feel her breath on your face "remember how easily i can fucking break you y/n" she let out a chuckle after seeing your eyes go from anger to fear in a span of a couple seconds.

"i am twice your size kid, watch your fucking self” she eyed you up and down before leaving the kitchen.

AUTHORS NOTE: yall im high asf rn so pls tell me if u like this cause im honestly just typing words

[cocoagenie]

[Credits to the person who made the gif]

Midnight snack? | Luffy x Black Fem [OPLA]

Luffy snuck to the kitchen late at night for another taste of your famous cinnamon n' apple dump cake, what he doesn't know is that a great fuss and tease is coming his way and you know just what to demand in order for luffy to get that late desert.

Flirting, mentions of reader having a dialect but the text is proper english, short fic

• ☆☆ •

Luffy couldn't sleep, so as always his inability to do so would be solved by a late night treat. The captain slung his legs over the hammock and threw his blanket off to hop down and stand on his own two feet. His form mirroring that of a person who had too many drinks.

Luffy wet his lips of their previous chap and made his way out the cabin to find the kitchen, the only thing on his mind being the dumpcake you baked this evening. It was by far the best desert he's ever tasted in his entire life. Doughy, soft, crunchy, sweet, and dripping with the nectar of apples and pineapples.

His feet padded quicker to the greed of his gut, it led him closer and closer, around the corner and down a few steps before he took the last turn. And when his eyes found a small lantern on the table with a plate of what he craved, Luffy thought it was a dream.

"Ohh yeahh.." he whispered, hands rubbing together as he thought nothing of the fact that it may belong to someone else, that is until a sound came from the pantry. He peaked around and saw a person closing the door. Draped in night themed pj's with a wrap around their head.

Luffy could tell from their ebony skin and soft humming that it was, "y/n?" You jumped and turned around so quickly with a hand to your chest. Coconut eyes blown wide at the sight of the young captain.

"Luffy, what are you doing up so damn late?!" You whispered yelled, western accent coming through thicker than usual. You walked toward him and then curved to sit back at the table, scooting your chair up as you gathered your fork to dig into your desert.

"Wait, that's your plate?"

"Uh, yeah?" You lifted up a warm peice of the cake to your mouth and chewed on it in delight. Eyes closing in content while moved your shoulders in a happy rhythm. Luffy took a seat and sat next to you.

"Let me get a bite.." he slightly pouted, eyes flickering between you and the desert.

"Oh.. this? This here?" You pointed at it with your fork, eyes glimmering in fake curiosity, he nodded and you smiled.

"No." You giggled and ate another peice as he dropped his shoulders. Brows furrowing hard.

"why!" You told him to quite down as you chewed and then swallowed.

"Because, you already had four peices tonight and at the rate it's dissapearing no one's going to have their seconds" you frowned, toungue running across your teeth as your eyes dropped back down to plate to get another peice.

"I can't help that I have a big appetite, my stomach doesn't hold food like yours.. its like.. this big!" you let his explanation go in one ear and out of the other as luffy stretched out his arms. The pirate sighed when you remained fixed but he didn't stop begging.

"Come on don't be stingy let me get a slice? Please y/n, please please please?—" He put his hands together as his chin was on your shoulder, begging right into your ear canal. You thought about it and let your silence torture him. To be truthful it was funny to see luffy so desperate like this and you didn't think you'd ever grant him his wish until he uttered this.

"Please, I'll do anything?" Luffy was a hundred thousand percent serious about this and finally you gave in, your fork clanking on the plate as you put it up and folded your hands.

"Ok.." he perked up, smile blooming on his lips and only stretching wider as you gave him your undivided attention.

"I'll give you something sweet, if you give me something sweet?" You smirked and luffy put his hands on his knees, smile not faltering as his eyes looked you up and down.

"Like what?"

"What do you think?" You smiled, settling your face on your hand and exposing your dimpled cheek. Now you were only joking and didn't expect anything short of his goofy antics but Luffy was quite puzzled.

"..... oh. oh! o-okay, if that's.. what you want?" He said with a nervous giddiness, you playfully closed your eyes as he leaned closer and closer to you, luffy didn't want you to feel it coming so he quickly pressed a kiss to your cheek and leaned back.

You snapped your eyes open and reluctantly looked at luffy who watched you very attentively, hands reaching for your fork and plate as you sputtered for words, he ate the dumpcake and continued staring at you.

Voice more quite than usual, " that's what you wanted right?" He said around the food in his mouth.

"I was joking." Luffy gulped the desert down and licked the cake crumbs from his mouth.

"Well then, forget I ever did that!?" He abruptly got up and rushed back to his cabin as your troubled expression started to crack into a shy one. Luffy just kissed you on the cheek for some homemade dump cake. Typical.

[daphnebowen]

descendants rise of red thoughts

warning: these are probably nonsensical and just a lot of confusion/venting/random excitement?? but enjoy regardless:

I'm glad that they explained jay, evie, and mal's absence right off the bat 

Uma and mal's relationship >>>

Not me bawling my eyes out already at the mention of Carlos, we all know uma's tears were china's tears 😭😭

Wonderland is GORGEOUS

"DEVIL ON MY SHOULDER" WHERE THE ANGELS USED TO BE

this fight scene is so unrealistic 

LUCIUS MALFOY?!?! (nope it's a dupe)

can I just say Kylie is GORGEOUS in red??

MAD HATTER SON SIGHTING AND I LOVE HOW HIS NAME IS MADDOX

who would have guessed she used the hug with Maddox to steal the Time Machine - hmm, not me!!

Brandy is absolutely KILLING IT her voice is majestic 

but where does Chad fit into all of this??? like isn't he the son of Cinderella but he doesn't look like his dad or mom?

the queen of hearts accent is soooo soothing

she (the queen of hearts) reminds me a LOT of Audrey, in her looks, her mannerisms, the way she speaks, her everything, it's kinda crazy 

A MENTION OF CHAD!!! Maybe it's possible! who cares about genetics!!

okay queen of hearts buggy is 🤩🤩

Chloe reminds me so much of evie and red reminds me so much of mal!! this is probably obvious to everyone and on purpose but oh well

WHATS MY NAME REMIXXXXX AHHHH

where's Harry and Gil bro not even a mention of them??? they were uma's best friends bffr

Omg I haven't seen Dara in a lot of other things but she is SLAYING the crazy uliana character 

Chloe running around fixing all the things red's messing around with is so accurate 

WICKED STEPMOM SIGHTING

anyways, the house Cinderella grew up in is soooo accurate to how I pictured it

I don't think poor chloe has ever touched a mop lol

Dara doesn't even sound like herself in this song

THAT EEL FREAKING SCARED ME GAGAHAGAGA IT LOOKS JUST LIKE FLOTSAM AND JETSAM which is probably the point but oh well here I am 

the way my heart DROPPED when she smashed the shoes!!!! 😢😢

oh snap. I did NOT expect red to go there (speaking about the "how did that end up for her?" talking about Chloe's mom) THATS SO AWFUL AND HORRIBLE MY JAW DROPPED

young Cinderella can SINGGGG

Love how they never showed Chloe's feet after she threw her glass shoes into the fireplace 😂 not important but I thought it was funny

love the kid barking and meowing and making Merlin rethink his life choices 

I definitely thought for a second that red was gonna be like "actually, I want to stay in this timeline"

OMG I HOPE THIS WORKS

YESSSS UMAAAA SLAYYYYYY ILYYYY

the costume change for queen of hearts is EVERYTHING

how is Chloe going to explain the broken glass shoes to her mom lol

nothing gets past Uma lol she's ALL KNOWING OUR QUEEN

final thoughts: reaaaalllyyyy wishing we could have brought back more of the og's or even got a little more closure about Carlos and his death. even though I know everyone's moving on and healing and dove especially is distancing herself from Disney and trying to be her own person without that (which, I respect) I still would have liked a cameo, a sort of "passing the torch" thing. without them it kinda was abrupt and strange, but having fairy godmother and Uma definitely benefited the movie. Red and Chloe were definitely well thought out and loveable and relatable characters for me, being a perfectionist myself and having three little troublemaking brothers who want nothing to do with me or my family at all. I feel like there was hardly any real time to get to know the other characters at all though! particularly young Bridget and ella, I definitely would have loved to see more of them. even uliana, although she made such a big impact and interest with her limited amount of screen time, put it to good use and made the most, though I would have wanted more. More backstory between her and Ursula's relationship, perhaps??? Uma and uliana reconciliation?? where is uliana now??? etc etc etc. I feel like the movie was so short there wasn't a ton of time to fully flesh things out and explore the characters and yet the pacing was great for the plot, so I don't know how those two things work together but somehow it felt rushed and yet perfect at the same time?? Like I don't know what they could have added to make it longer. definitely wanted more Uma and fairy godmother banter and updates on all the vks and auradon kids!!! how's Jane!!! ESPECIALLY NOW CARLOS IS NO LONGER WITH US?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? what about Lonnie!! and dizzy and the twins and Doug and Harry and Gil and all those other rascals. good to know Chad's off playing tourney in college and we know mal, Ben, evie, and jay are sailing around the world making amends with other countries and forming alliances. but yeah. overall I was pretty satisfied, obviously I don't think ANYTHING could top the iconic original descendants but I feel like this one did its job. it continued the story and introduced many new characters and a new timeline and plot line that was easy to follow while also leaving room for more and for wanting more. didn't even mention the music but I felt a lot of it was suuuuper repetitive and just this pop thing. where are my ballads!!! my if onlys!!! everything was just like "rotten to the core" or "chillin like a villain" and I wanted some emotional songs. Yes, I love a good pop upbeat song but I don't want an entire movie of them. everyone sang great I think, except I couldn't tell what was real and what was auto tune, but anyways. so yeah, I'd rate this movie a 7.5 out of 10. Pretty decent but still... not the greatest. as to almost be expected without our original cast.

side note: anyone wondering, if Cameron Boyce hadn't passed away, do we think they still would have continued adding on to that original trilogy and storyline or do we think that they would have brought in the new characters and storylines anyway? just a thought, I've always wondering what it would be like if cam hadn't passed. rest in peace xo 💋 

[vacantgodling]

the quest for perfect a labyrinth honey loaf

cuz of the ask multi sent me i got inspired to write a little thing. i’m not narratively confident in this wip yet cuz i mostly build i don’t write 💀💀 but i thought it would be fun to write a lil thing so.

wip: the chronicles of lathsbury (tcol)

character(s): sir mukul brio & miona winfrey

mukul once again fails to temper labyrinth honey 😅

notes: miona is from diisai and has an accent and by god i will write it out :) it’s not as bad as erik’s or papa’s so yall will live lol

“Right—issit safe tha’t A’m standin’ in here with you then?” Miona’s voice cracked a little on the last word, and she had very noticeably gone from amiable and chipper to apprehensive the moment Mukul told her what was bubbling away in the boiler on the stove. Mukul grunted. “That’s not a yes!” She said—but even she could admit, it smelled absolutely heavenly; syrupy almost, but richer in depth. Miona found it hard to put her finger on what exactly the scent was, but that only added to her worry: there was only one reason that her friend and sort-of guild superior, was standing in the kitchen with a full helm and suit of armor on, underneath a ridiculously scorched apron—standing near a foot away to swirl a ladle through the boiler’s contents… he was dealing with live Labyrinth honey.

That was the funny thing about Labyrinth honey—it was sort of a creature of its own… or at least as best as any Terranean bestiary for the past few hundred years could guess. It possessed a small level of ars, and enough sentience to act as a sticky trap for its prey—usually smaller creatures or bugs. But still a sticky treat just like honey. It wasn’t fully on the mimicry scale since unlike other creatures it didn’t have the ability to shift beyond this particular capability—but in lieu of being able to hide it had exactly one defense mechanism….

“Mukkie… A’think it’s starting to boil over…”

“Shut up.” He hissed, but his voice sounded worried. He reached out with his ladle and pushed the sentient sap back into the pot, but it clung to the spoon. He tried to shake it off, and the monster pulled, turning into a full tug-o-war match. But as he was distracted, Miona noticed the inevitable.

“Mukkie, it’s gonna pop!”

The knight looked up from where he was wrestling with the ladle and dropped it. “Mio look out!” He was across the kitchen in two bounds and threw his armored body around her just as the entire pot exploded in a fantastic display of heat and pettiness.

When the dust settled, he pulled back. Miona reached up and yanked the helm off of his head. His tan skin was already covered in a fine layer of soot.

“What did’a say about makin’ Labyrinth honey at the guild!” She demanded, though she sounded much nicer than she intended. Mukul muttered something about making it outside under his breath but Miona couldn’t hold the facade for long. She collapsed back against the door, laughing heartily.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, but there was a tired grin in his voice. He kicked the helm for good measure, his whole body tensing when the shock of pain tingled up his spine, only making her laugh more.

“Issit the third batch today?” She asked. “How long do you plan to go on!”

“Well—that’s my last attempt seeing as I don’t have any more honey.”

“Oh poor dear.” Miona strode over and pinched his cheek, wagging it back and forth like an old aunty would. “Do you need me to tell Felicity to get you some more on her next supply run?”

Mukul didn’t say anything for a long minute. Finally, he heaved a heavy, heavy sigh.

“I’ll make you eclairs in return.”

Miona whooped, skipping eagerly out of the kitchen, already thinking of her eclairs as she mentally began the write up for an in house quest.

[trash-king18]

m pt. 8

suprise! miguel’s pov of the last few weeks because.. i wanted to. and at this point in the story everything’s uncertain between him and the reader so it seemed like the perfect point to interject a little bit of his perspective. hope y’all enjoy it

cw: swearing, slight angst ig, mentions of everything in previous parts but nothings written out so still sfw

————

miguel would never say it 

but the past few months had been absolutely torturous for him. 

when you first arrived you were the most infuriating person he’d ever met. 

you were insubordinate, always pushing boundaries when it came to the tests you were running and the experiments you wanted to try,

you talked back, never once would you just do what he asked without giving you attitude about it

you called him out on anything and everything, in front of other people too. 

when he’d throw things if they weren’t small enough that you just caught them, you’d just look disappointed and he felt like he had just broken something and his mama was about to tell him off. 

you’d make fun of him too. in the lab mostly but you never missed a chance to tease him for his “brooding” 

and when he’d mutter in spanish which normally allowed him the last word, you’d give it right back perfectly fluent with that brooklyn accent. 

you would call him bichó/or bichito under your breath thinking he couldn’t hear which to him meant bug/little bug which was annoying enough referencing him being a “spider person” but he eventually realized in puerto rican spanish it meant you were calling him a dick. 

and to top it off you were distracting. you were gorgeous, your long dark hair, amber eyes, soft brown skin, the scent. he could smell you the second you came anywhere near him, not just the perfume but the smell of you, the pheromones. you walked around like you owned the place, and you were perfectly nice to everyone else but him? no of course not. you had to question everything he said,  every theory every hypothesis. and the worst part? you were normally right, or at least more right than he had been. 

the extractions and infusions were the worst. it was just to two of you in that back room and you took absolutely no shit from him there. as easy as it’d be to just get up and walk out all you had to do was look at him with those honey eyes and he felt stuck to the chair. that’s why he had started calling you cariño, honey, the first time it was more a slip of the tongue. switching between languages was normal for you two and one day you were particularly pissing him off and he had said 

“Ay, estás tan amargada hoy cariño”

you are so sour today honey, 

he thought he was being funny, but when he noticed how much it had gotten under your skin he started calling you that all the time. always teasing of course, just when you were in a sour mood or he wanted to piss you off, until recently. 

he would complain to Lyla about you, absolutely seething after every interaction. but as the only person he couldn’t throw stuff at lyla had some leeway when it came to telling miguel what he didn’t want to hear. 

“Perhaps you dislike her so much.. because she’s just like you.”

“What? no. she is not. 

She’s impudent, moody, self serious.. and she won’t let anyone tell her what to do”

“sounds like you.”

he gives her an exasperated look. 

“she’s also extremely intelligent, meticulous, and a workaholic. it’s why i hired her”

she gives him an accusatory look. 

“alright fine fine i get it.” 

“however you feel about her miguel, you need her, and she’s not going anywhere so you might as well try to get along.”

“me? tell her that.”

she just waves him off. 

“night boss.” 

but after a while, he begrudgingly realized he was enjoying your interactions.

you could handle whatever insults or bad mood he threw your way on the fly, and you both did it with intellectual arguments as well. it was invigorating to have someone who could keep up with him. you always knew what he was talking about in the lab, and when it came to the multiverse theory he had barely gotten a minute into explaining before you started filling in the blanks. he still didn’t like you though, or at least he told himself that. he couldn’t. 

he became slightly more tolerable after you had finally figured out the formula for the infusions. they kept the throwing shit to a minimum, although you hadn’t figured out a way to get rid of the sass. you spent less time together then, just extractions infusions and the occasional blood panels, not like at the beginning when he was always hovering. watching you run the tests, trying out new formulas, explaining his dna to you like it wasn’t your whole job to understand it and use it to make his treatment. 

you had double majored in genetics, animal as well as human which is why you were the perfect one for this job. 

but recently, your arguments were more heated and more frequent, but less necessary. you two fought about everything and normally you’d walk off seething but forget about it until the next. but you were up in each others faces, shouting loud enough everyone could hear you. so when he came into your lab for an extraction, things started off tense. you seemed extra tired and he had missed his infusion so he felt himself ready to tip over the edge at any provocation. 

the quips and teasing along with you, just the presence of you, was making it hard to sit still. but he knew acting on anything when he was like this was not smart. 

until you climbed on top of him. he couldn’t help that has hands instinctively wanted to hold you there. and the way you leaned over him just holding his face and tugging his lips, it took everything to just sit. he masked it with annoyance but that ended up not working out well either. 

when you finally removed the vials from his mouth a flash of.. multiple emotions took over. he remembered grabbing you, holding you in place, but when he leaned closer, smelling you closer than you’d ever been before, the spider dna was winning out. he could see what happened from then until he left the office, but it felt more like he was watching it on a tv screen. but what he had played over and over in his mind was the little sound you made when he ran his teeth over your neck, and what you said

eres tan hermoso

you had called him beautiful, not handsome, not infuriating or stupid or immature like usual 

beautiful. 

it shocked him. and it was enough to help snap him out of it momentarily. 

but he hadn’t stopped thinking about it. 

the rest of what happened next was all him, he wanted to test, see how you would respond to him. 

he didn’t want to pull away but he didn’t trust himself in that moment. 

but then the next night you showed up at his apartment, hair down, not in work clothes 

pushing your way into his home, back to acting as insubordinate as normal. 

so everything was mostly fine, except that you were in his house which he wasn’t exactly a fan of.. for multiple reasons. 

the iv was starting, you were being annoying. you we’re about to leave, but 

then you had asked if he was ok. not to tease him, not because he was being a grump, you just genuinely seemed worried. 

and he invited you to stay and eat. technically you were supposed to stay and monitor infusions anyway so no harm no foul. 

but then you started messing with the food, and that would not stand. he let his guard down, a mistake, he felt himself actually enjoy talking to you for a moment. it was just food, until you bring up your family. a sore point for him but he detected some pain in it, something he was familiar with. he asked but you immediately shut down and started rushing out the door. 

he probably should’ve let you leave but he felt a twinge of guilt. he of all people knew better than to ask, and.. he didn’t really want you to. 

you were upset, and pretty, and… here. he was gentle, which he could see made you feel even more uncomfortable since it was abnormal. but he wanted to help, not the spider, just him. 

but seeing you stand so close, so small, giving him attitude as per usual wound him up again. 

when you say his name, as agitated as it sounds, it’s like a drug. 

he just wanted to hear it again. 

fuck. 

when he woke up, it was early about 4. he was on the couch, you were gone. the IV was back in his arm, you clearly hadn’t just left but there was no sign you stuck around after putting it in. he notices a slip of paper on the coffee table. 

he doesn’t know what he hoped it would say but it wasn’t asking him to come for blood tests. 

he was confused, frustrated, maybe a little disappointed but he wouldn’t admit it. and nothing helped with that better than a mission. 

He called lyla asking for an update on one particular anomaly that had been evading them for a while. he didn’t even let himself think about it he just got ready suited up and was already in another dimension. 

he ended up filling his schedule with as many missions as possible the next three weeks, barely stepping foot in HQ, because when he did he saw you. and he didn’t know what to say to you. he could see you were frustrated with him, you’d walk past without looking at him, but instead of talking to you he’d just put another work thing on his to do list. 

that was until he was working late logging the last mission and jess and peter b stumble into the building with a very off balance, very drunk, you. 

he knew how he handled it wasn’t fair, but it worried him. he felt over protective of you now, after what had happened between you, especially because you weren’t a spider person. 

he didn’t give you a choice when he took you home that night. he was at least going to make sure you ended up in your bed instead of somewhere else you shouldn’t be. that wasn’t even necessarily about you, that was just the right thing to do. although the bath, and the clothes.. and the cooking might have been a bit much. he knew it was but he felt like he needed to make up the last few weeks to you. 

you didn’t see it that way though. you resisted every gesture, every word that came out of his mouth. 

he was about to leave but he heard some things fall and he knew you wouldn’t be happy about it but he at least had to check.

son solo buenos modales, his mother would say 

it’s just good manners 

he found you on the floor with a number of things that had spilled off the shelf next to you. he went to help you up but you’d swatted him away. 

he tried to make you let him help, at least listen but you just ended up getting in a fight. so he left. 

he was frustrated more with himself but he projected it onto you for pushing him away. 

the next few weeks you either avoided one another or everything turned into a fight. he tried to apologize after your fight in his office, you fight him about his apology at every turn too. 

the only thing that goes smoothly is his infusion, because neither one of you says a word. 

but then peter b informs him they’re all going out again, including you. he was aware of these outings but he never went. he knew you’d hate it, probably hate him, but he just wanted to make sure you were ok. it was an unsavory part of an unsavory universe. 

but of course you fought him about that too. 

he was on his way to find another mission to go on, muttering to himself about how stubborn and immature you were, when he noticed a backup signal coming from someone in this dimension. 

your apartment. 

he doesn’t think. 

aaand then of course you fight him about saving you, although the fact that you have a gun on you at all times was reassuring, and possibly attractive. 

and then you fight him about staying to make sure you’re safe overnight too, but that one he won’t budge on. he physically holds himself in your apartment, and eventually you give in. 

he’s surprised when you elect to come out and talk to him, but the conversation just frustrates him more. 

you’re lying to him and yourself about this situation. he knew that but he wanted to get you to admit it. but forcing you to open up was evidently the wrong approach as you all but run from the conversation and shut yourself in your room. 

he’s not trying to listen, but he can’t ignore how fast your heart rate is elevating, and not long after he can hear the faint sounds of your breath start to get too fast. he comes in and stands outside your door. as much as he didn’t like it he figured it was better to leave you alone, but it only gets worse and fast. when you don’t find whatever you were looking for he feels the true panic set in. and he pushes the door open 

what he sees tugs at him, a scene all to familiar to himself, though he’d never talk about it. he rushes over to you. 

later he comes back in to check that you’re still asleep. you’re out cold as he expected, he probably shouldn’t but he strokes your hair gently then your face, whispering to you in spanish. 

he can tell when you wake up although you think he can’t 

you turn on your side and he sits on the bed this time. when he puts his hand on your shoulder it’s really just to make sure you’re listening but you reach up to his hand. he’s not sure if it’s what you meant but he takes it in his 

you’re starting to drift off again but as you do you tug at his hand gently. 

he just sits there holding your hand 

he can tell you’re mostly asleep, but even so you mutter something, even he doesn’t hear it the first time it’s just too muffled. 

he just asks again 

que necesitas? 

one word. it’s all you say

quédate

stay. 

so he does. he gets up for a moment letting your hand fall out of his briefly. he walks around to the other side so he doesn’t have to climb over you and gently sets himself down in the bed. he stays dressed, he doesn’t get under the covers he just lays beside you at a reasonable distance. you’re more on your stomach than your side so he reaches out to rub your back and he starts singing again, softly he knows you can’t even hear him. 

he stays like that for a while, just watching you sleep. you looked blissful, tan hermosa. so beautiful. he felt every emotion towards you from the past few months tighten in his chest. he swelled with defensiveness over you. his animal dna may have caused him to get a little out of control, over protective of you recently simply instinctually after the flood of hormones from what happened between you. but this was him, this was human. 

he thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep. 

fuck. i’m in deep. 

————

taglist:

@urmotherswhor3 @marcswife21 @l3laze @kirke-is-my-name

[stevesjockstrap]

Eddie Month Day 9

prompt: cowboy & cavalier | rated: T? language and substances a/n: based on the Buffy episode where everyone becomes their Halloween costume

Steve was in hell. There was no other possible explanation. This might’ve been worse than the upside down. That at least he could do something about. 

Something had happened, not something inter-dimensional but something weird or magicky. Hell, he’d think this was all a big practical joke, if it wasn’t for all these seemingly real soldier memories and facts that he couldn’t shake that kept popping into his head.

They’d all gotten Halloween costumes from this new store that popped up downtown. Ethan’s Costume Shop was quaint and this older gentleman had helped pick perfect costumes for all of them.  

Eddie wanted these leather chaps so became a cowboy. Robin was a witch who kept trying to do spells and setting small fires. Nancy was a princess who was scared of everything and kept screaming bloody murder at the kids. 

The kids were the worst part. Max, Lucas and El were zombies who kept biting everyone, thankfully not hard enough to actually eat them. Dustin, probably the only one who would actually know what to do in this situation, was an ogre who just grunted and whacked people with his club. Mike was a werewolf and kept trying to escape to howl at the moon. Will had dressed as a ghost and had turned invisible. Thankfully Steve had made everyone take glow sticks trick or treating so they could follow his green glowing necklace. 

Somehow Steve had convinced cowboy!Eddie to help corral all of them to his house when the streets became mass chaos as everyone transformed to their costumes. Jonathan and Argyle had decided dressing up was too pedestrian and they’d been extra hands, but as high as they were, Steve wasn’t sure if they even knew what was happening. 

He leaned against the kitchen island and hung his head in his hands. All he wanted to do was to take the kids trick or treating then come home and have a relaxing evening. The kids were all supposed to be going to the Wheelers for a sleepover.

“Why the long face, darlin’?” Eddie asked with a terrible southern accent. And this. If he called him darlin’ or puddin’ or fucking baby cakes one more time he was going to go find his nail bat. 

“Eddie, for the last time, stop with the names. And I think it’s perfectly reasonable, actually, for me to be upset right now. Look around!” 

Steve felt bad instantly when Eddie looked down and started to walk away. 

“I’m sorry, Eds. I don’t even know if you’re actually even Eddie in there. But for the record, this is not a nice normal night for me. How many times have you corralled ghosts and zombies, man?”

Eddie nodded and looked around. The kids had resorted to chasing each other around the house, which was honestly an improvement to them trying to get out of any available door or window. They’d put Nancy upstairs in a bedroom away from anything scary. Steve had taken Robin’s wand away and hidden it and she was searching the place for it. 

“I guess you’re right, there.” Steve winced at the accent. 

They just stared at each other for a moment. Steve sighed. “You want a beer?”

Eddie shrugged and nodded. They ended up sitting on the island, so they could keep an eye out for the kids. Somehow it became a drinking game. Drink every time one of the zombies bites someone. Drink for every grunt. Drink for every time Argyle giggles at nothing funny. Soon they were giggling at nothing themselves, leaning into each other and almost falling off the island. 

It was someone’s idea to relocate to the couch. They threw a movie on and weirdly all the creatures flocked to the light or the sound or it was just background neurons firing that they go watch the tv when it’s on. They all piled in a little nest of blankets like puppies and nodded off. 

Close to midnight, something snapped in his brain, like a rubber band. He looked at Eddie. 

“What the fuck?”

“Oh you’re back?” He yawned. 

“Back? Where did I go?”

“Do you remember being a cowboy and the kids were zombies?”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up under his bangs. “Jeez, that wasn’t from my stash, right? That must be Argyle’s-“

“No, man. I don’t know what happened but everyone became their costume. You’ve been talking in a terrible southern accent all night and calling me- never mind. Will was invisible!”

Eddie smirked. “Callin’ you what?” The accent was even worse now, combined with the slurring. 

“That’s the part you’re worried about?”

“That’s the part you’re gunna tell me first.” He leaned in close. “Was it sweetheart? Was it pretty boy?”

Steve shivered. “Uhhh, nope.” Eddie sat back and put his finger to his chin, thinking. It made Steve huff a laugh at him. “Think more southern, more cowboy, Eds.”

He nodded, leaning back in. “Buttercup? Sweet pea?”

Steve laughed and shook his head. 

“I dunno, darlin’, I guess we’ll never know.” Eddie pulled him close and their lips met.

@eddiemonth

[scarisd3ad]

To the end and back | Daryl Dixon x reader

Chapter twenty three - don’t you ever grow up

Previous >> next

Masterlist

Taglist

Warnings - regular twd warnings

Summary - after the world ended you were sure you’d never find love again but a certain archer catches your eyes and changes the entire trajectory of your life.

'Hounded.'

S3 ep 6

I wake up when the sun begins to peek through the small windows in our cellblock. I let out a groan-like sigh as I turned, expecting to be greeted by Daryl who's typically laid next to me slowly breathing as he snored peacefully. But he's not in place of him are his blankets messily thrown into a pile on top of the mattress. My brows knot together in confusion but end up not worrying too much because he probably just goes up early today.

I get up despite the deep desire not to. I take off the stained shirt I had been wearing for the past few days and put it in the bag with our dirty clothes. Casey stirs in her sleep as I get ready, but only wakes up when I tap her and whisper her name. Her eyes lazily open as she sits up. "It's morning?" she slurs as she rubs the sleep from her eyes, "c'mon get up and change out of that shirt for me," I say as she crawls off of the mattress and stands up.

She changes out of her shirt and into a clean one while I fold up our blankets and place them in a pile with our pillows. I sit cris-crossed down on the floor and pat my lap. "C'mere and bring that brush with you." Casey grabs the brush and sits in my lap. I unraveled her braided pigtails before brushing her hair threw a few times to get rid of the crimp that the braids had left her hair in. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs makes Casey's head turn towards them. I take both my hands placing them on either side of her head before straightening her head. Almost immediately remembering the days back at the quarry when Lori would cut Carl's hair, constantly having to readjust his head the same way I'm readjusting Casey's. "Straight sweetheart," I whisper as I pull one side of her hair up into a pigtail.

"What'rya doin?" I glance up to see Daryl standing at the top of the steps with his crossbow in his hands. "Doing her hair," I state as I tie the one pigtail up with a rubber band. "Is it too tight?" I ask in a whispered tone as Daryl sets his crossbow on the ground, leaning against the railings before walking over and sitting down next to us. Casey shakes her head, giving me the okay to go onto the next side of her head. "You go check on the baby?" I ask as I tie up the other pigtail. Daryl nods as he says, "Yeah, Beth's feedin' her." Casey gets up out of my lap and sits back down in Daryl's. "mornin' case" he whispers as she leans herself against his shoulder. "mornin'" she says, mocking his accent, which makes me chuckle. She grins up at him as she starts cracking up. "Oh yeah, ya think that's funny?" she nods through giggles as he rolls his eyes. We sit in a relaxing silence for a few moments, just enjoying the peace of the prison this early in the morning. There isn't any screaming or crying, just the soft sound of the birds chirping outside and the louder moans and groans of the walkers.

"I wish I had a sister," Casey whispers out of the blue. There wasn't anything that we said that could've driven her to consider having a sister. I reach over brushing back her baby hairs as I ask, "Why's that bug?" she shrugs "Dunno Carl has a sister so I want one too" Casey looked up to Carl a lot, she wanted to be just like him, she told me that all the time. She wanted to shoot a gun like him, wanted to have a hat like his, and I guess now wants a sister like he does too. "She can be like your sister Case." she huffs as she crosses her arms over her chest. "Or you could have a baby and that baby could be like my sister." I've thought about having a baby with Daryl a lot, especially recently. A tiny Dixon, one who has his bright eyes and bright hair that would darken with age just like his did, one with his stubborn personality. One we'd raise together not in separate households or with one missing, we'd do it together. But just not now, not after Lori died. We'd have to wait to have that perfect little family. Wait until we can give it a normal life, not one filled with heartbreak and death, but one filled with hope and love. I hoped we'd be able to do that one day. Be able to live without a care in the world again, but that's just not it right now.

Daryl's eyes widen as he looks over at me, a silent exchange only with facial expressions going on between us. "Not right now it's too dangerous and we don't need two babies right now anyway," Casey huffs a disappointed sigh "Maybe when she's a little older though, when we're safer," I catch Daryl's eyes as he stares down at me eyes full of adoration. I smile as I nod like I'm saying 'Right?' he nods too "Yeah, when we're safer" he whispers, and I take that as a yes to the question I had asked yesterday. Yes, he wanted kids, yes, he wanted kids with me.

"Let's go down for breakfast, huh?" I say as I push myself off of the ground and hold my hand out towards Casey. she grabs it and I pull her up. We walk down the stairs, with Daryl following shortly behind us. "I hope it's not that weird mush we had yesterday," Casey mutters under her breath. The oatmeal we had yesterday was far from perfect, far from the fruity flavors Casey was probably accustomed to. It was bland and practically flavorless. "it's alright, we're probably not," I whisper with a laugh as I pat her head.

When we walk into the recreational area, Beth, Hershel, Carl, Glenn, and Maggie are sitting around a table with bowls of oatmeal. Casey groans, "Morning," I say as I walk over to the pot that's filled with oatmeal. I take two bowls, one for Casey, and one for me, and then fill both of them up.

She wrinkles her nose up in disgust as I hand her a bowl. "I don't like oatmeal," she whispers to me as she stirs the oatmeal around, the same revolted look on her face. "Just eat it. You need the energy," I whisper. She huffs as she scoops up the smallest amount of oatmeal she possibly could and brings it to her mouth. When the oatmeal touches her tongue, her eyebrows furrow together as she reluctantly swallows it down. "It's disgusting y/n," she whines, "I know, I know, just eat it, please. When we go back out, I'll get you something I promise." she sighs but nods, nonetheless. She takes a few more bites, her brows tied together in a tight knot the entire time. We can't be picky especially during times like this, when the food is slowly dwindling and there aren't many choices. Just eat it, we need the energy anyway. Our days are long and filled with hard labor. We're lucky now that we have this place. We're not constantly running around anymore.

Daryl walks over and sits down next to us, a bowl in his hand as well. "Everybody okay?" the sound of Rick's voice spooks us all. We haven't seen him since yesterday when he ran back into the prison. He had disappeared after that; he hadn't come to hold his newborn or even comfort his son, who had to shoot his mother. That poor kid has had a stone-cold look on his face ever since we walked out of that room, and his father didn't even ask if he was alright. Rick was devastated, and I understood. Lori was his wife. Rick had lost his wife, but Carl lost his mother. He had to shoot his mother, he had to watch her bleed out. He needed to snap the fuck out of whatever mindset he was in right now because he had two children he needs to look after and he can't just leave it to us to raise them both.

The metal door makes a loud clanging sound as Rick opens it. "Yeah, we are," Maggie replies as Rick walks into the room. Carl looks back behind him at his father, a little hope sparking in his eyes. "What about you?" Hershel asks. Rick pauses in front of the table that they are sitting at, looking down at the ground as he mutters, "I cleared out the boiler block," ignoring Hershel's question. He's looking down at the ground, tears pooling in his eyes as he tries his best to avoid the baby that was cradled in Beth's arms. I'm not surprised that Rick cleared that all out by himself. He was already a strong man. I couldn't deny that, but the adrenaline and grief he was experiencing presumably made it significantly easier for him to do that all by himself. "How many were there?" Daryl asks brows furrowed together as he brings his spoon up to his mouth. "I dunno," Rick whispers. "A dozen, two dozen. I have to get back. Just wanted to check on Carl." Carl stares down at the ground as his father lazily pats his back before beginning to walk away.

That hope that was once sparkling him Carl's eyes is snuffed out immediately. Rick wasn't checking on Carl. He didn't ask if he was okay. He hardly even looked at him, just a pat on the back before he went off doing who knows what. this wasn't okay, him leaving his grieving son, his 13-year-old son who just suffered a tremendous and traumatic loss, him leaving his barely 1-day-old baby for us to take care of. He lost his wife; I know that, but that doesn't give him the right to be selfish, to stay in the tombs while his son was up all night numbly staring at the wall in his cell with tears lining his eyes. Rick needed to be there for his son, especially now.

Glenn stands up. "Rick, we can take out the bodies. You don't have to." Rick pauses right in front of the door he has just come from. He shakes his head. "No, I do" Instead of walking back into the tombs, he walks over to Daryl. "Everyone have a gun and a knife?" he asks Daryl "Yeah. we're running low on ammo, though" Daryl replies with a nod. Glenn stood a few steps behind Rick, waiting for his turn to speak. "Maggie and me were planning on making a run this afternoon. Found a phone book with some places we can hit. Look for bullets and formula." Glenn says, not like he's telling Rick that's what they were going to do, but more like he's asking for permission to. "We cleared out the generator room. axels there tryin' to fix it, in case of emergency. We're gonna sweep the lower levels as well" Rick nods before muttering "Good, good." and beginning to walk off again. He didn't even ask to hold his baby, he just disappeared back through the door he came from. I hoped this wasn't going to become a problem with Rick because both Carl and that baby are going to have a long hard childhood if he didn't fix himself. I can see the disappointment in Carl's eyes as Rick walks past him. Carl just wants his father. He's still a kid, even if Rick tried to treat him like an adult. He's still 13 and going through all the normal things 13-year-olds go through, along with losing his mother, and the world ending.

"RICK!" Hershel shouts after Rick, but he doesn't listen. He just lets the door slam shut as he disappears into the tombs. 

-

Daryl takes Carl and Oscar to sweep the lower floors while Glenn and Maggie go on a run. I decided to not go with either of them because these past few days have been both Daryl and I being gone and leaving Casey behind with Maggie or Beth and I couldn't just leave Beth and Hershel to take care of both the baby and Casey alone. Casey and I are sitting in the perch while I search through our stuff for Casey's gun. I didn't want her to have nothing if something like yesterday happened again. I wanted her to at least be able to hold her own if she got separated from Daryl or I. we took the gun for safety purposes after we found her because we didn't think she'd need it but after yesterday I need her to at least have a knife or a gun on her at all times even if she's only 5.

"Casey c'mere for me," I say as I examine the gun in my hand. It's a small handgun with the letters p t carved into the barrel. Casey stands up and walks over to me. "Yes?" her brows are furrowed together as I ask, "You remember the gun you had?" she nods slowly as I hand it to her. "I'm gonna let you hold on to it, alright? And this" I hand her my pocketknife; I had several now. We find them everywhere and I didn't need to hold on to this one anymore. "Just in case something like yesterday happens again, okay?" she nods as I reach forward and flip the safety on. "Keep this on at all times unless you need to shoot something, okay? Now we don't play with this, this is not a toy. Only use it if you need to." They did not give Carl the guns weren't a toy lecture at first and it ended up with him playing with Walkers and getting Dale killed. We didn't need something like that happening again.

"Okay," she whispers as she nods, "we're gonna go out and practice alright?" she needed to have good enough aim. There was no need for her to have a gun if she didn't have good aim. It's a nice day, the sun is out and there's a pleasant breeze, an excellent day for shooting practice. Her hand is clasped in mine as we walk out of the doors that led to our cell block and out into the yard. We walk up to the fence, and I tell Casey to stay a few steps behind me while I bang on the fence, luring the walkers that we're stumbling around outside the prison. They growl before lunging towards the fence. The fence makes a loud clash, clash, clash as the walkers throw their bodies against it. "Alright Case" I run back from the fence and towards Casey. "Now hold the gun like this" I demonstrate how to hold a gun with mine. I hold the gun in front of me, with both hands gripped tightly around the gun. She follows, trying her best to hold her gun the same way I'm holding mine. Her stance is a little lazier than mine. I shove my gun into my back pocket and walk over to her. I grab both her arms and reposition them. "Like that," I whisper. She nods as her hands tighten around the gun, her hands shaking a bit at the same time. "Steady your hands," I whisper. She tenses her hands a bit, so they stop shaking. "And look through that," I say, pointing at the back sight. She knew how to shoot a gun well at least kind of knew because she tried shooting me when we first met, so this was just to help her have better aim and be able to protect herself if she needed to.

She presses her finger against the trigger and the gun makes a loud boom sound as a bullet is torpedoed out of the barrel of the gun and towards one walker. unfortunately, she barely grazed the walker, barely enough to scratch it, let alone take it down. The loud sound the gun made must've scared her because she jumped and dropped the gun at the same time. She whines "I can't do it, it's too loud" I bend down picking up the gun, and hand it back to her "You can do lemme just..." I cover both her ears with my hands. "Now try again" She grips the gun between both of her hands before trying again.

boom.

She misses again. This time, the bullet flew right by the walker, not even touching it. She groans. "It's alright, just adjust the gun a bit, make sure you can see its head when you're looking through the sights," I say. She nods before moving the gun a bit. She presses on the trigger and...

boom.

This time, she hit it right in the head. Its head makes a loud splat before it falls to the ground with a thud. "Good job! Now try with that one" I point to a female walker that had been standing right beside the one Casey just hit. She nods before moving the gun, so it's aligned with the walker.

boom.

Casey hits that one too; she turns her head back, so she's looking at me. She grins. "I did it," I nod before grabbing her chin affectionately. "You did. You think you are ready to go back inside? Or do you want to do a few more?" she shakes her head. "Go inside." 

-

We ended up staying in the recreational area with Hershel, Beth, and the baby. I've got the baby cradled in my arms while Casey is sat next to me watching the baby intently. "Hi Babygirl" I coo as I caress the baby's cheek. She reaches her hands up and wraps her hand around my finger. She's got a tight grip on my finger, although she's only a day old. She coos as she squirms around in my arms. Carl returns, walking in through the door that leads to our cell block. Oscar nor Daryl are following after him, so I assume they sent him back this way. Carl sits down at the table next to Casey. he stares at his sister in my arms before asking, "Can I hold her?" I nod and pass the baby to him. He's a natural. It's like he was made to be a big brother. He weakly smiles down at her as he rocks her back and forth. The baby begins to squirm before she lets out a loud wail. He looks up at me like 'What do I do?' I scoot closer to him and grab the baby, making sure to support her head as I cradle her in my arms. "Shh, shh hey it's alright" I coo as I carefully rock her.

She calms down; her wails becoming quieter and quieter before she completely stops. "What're you gonna name her?" I ask my voice in a soft whisper, so I don't disturb the baby. "I-I don't know," Carl replies. we've just been calling her the baby and Daryl's been calling her ass-kicker, but her name can't be either of those. "I want to wait till Dad comes back to name her," Carl whispers. I know he's missing his dad, even though he was just down the hall in the tombs. Rick wasn't Rick. He was an empty shell of the man he once was, and Carl knows that. He wants the dad who carried his lifeless body all the way to that farm 10ish months ago, he wants the dad who sat by that bed day in and day out while he was unconscious, he wants the dad who donated Viles and Viles of blood until he was woozy and barely able to stand, but rick was just not that anymore or at least right now.

The sound of the metal door that led to the tombs creaking open makes me raise my head so I can see who it is. Rick walks through the door. He looks different, like something snapped inside him. Something made him realize he needed to be here for both his son and his daughter. He trudged towards the baby and me before he scooped her out of my arms. "Hey, hey" he coos as he held her up in front of him, examining her face, admiring her. His lips form a smile as she coos and squirms. Tears form in his eyes and one trickles down his cheek. She squirms in his arms before he presses her against his body, cradling her. He presses a kiss to her head as she begins to get comfortable in her father's arms. Carl smiles up at his father. Maybe Rick is back or at least half of him is. The father part that might've vanished the moment he realized Lori was dead was back.

Rick begins to walk towards the door that leads to the yard. We don't know why Rick has randomly decided to take the baby outside, but we follow after him, anyway. We walk out the door and down the stairs. Rick chuckles as he looks down at the baby in his arms. He turns his head towards Carl before saying, "She looks like you," which makes Carl laugh as a big smile graces his lips, the first smile I've seen from him all day. When Rick looks up and his head stops, brows furrowing in confusion, we all look up, too. We're all met with a figure standing at the fence. It wasn't like a walker, though; unlike the walker, they weren't banging at the fence, they just stood there with something in their hand. I could tell their skin was of a darker complexion but that's all I could make out. "hey" he turns to his son before handing the baby to him "You got her?" Rick whispers Carl takes the baby in his hands. "yeah," Carl replies as he situates the baby so she's comfortable. Then Rick begins to walk towards the fence.

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