#someone asks where he got it and ray's like “i made it (:”
Note
Please write more about sam !! absolutely love your writing
golden | s.g.
pairing: sam golbach x fem!reader
summary: you once believed love would be black and white, but with sam it’s golden.
warnings: not edited, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english isn’t my first language)
an: thank you love!! kinda inspired by taylor swift’s songs, hope you like it <33
Sam was like a ray of sunshine or a breeze of fresh air. He was everything.
You weren’t good at relationships and you knew Sam could do so much better. He easily could have someone who knows how to receive and reciprocate his love.
But somehow, he still chose you and decided to shower you with love even when you weren’t sure if you deserved it.
Samuel Golbach was full of love, he didn’t have any mean bone in his body and it still was shocking for you how someone like him, a literal sunshine, could willingly be with you, a midnight rain. You were perfect example of golden retriever and doberman.
You were two polar opposite, and yet you worked just perfectly fine together.
Sometimes, when you weren’t able to love yourself, he did it for both of you, and when he had bad day, you knew exactly what he needed to brighten up. It was just so natural for you two to be together.
And it still was something new for you, even though you were together for almost a year and half now.
Your past relationships weren’t perfect, far from it. Your love life was full of toxicity, jealousy and insecurity.
And then, you met Sam.
He always cared for you, your wellbeing, feelings and opinions. He was rarely jealous and never acted sickly because of it, and the way he loved you… Being loved by Sam made you feel like you were in heaven.
All the kisses, compliments, presents and random hugs. You don’t know what you did so right to be able to call him yours.
You looked at your right side where mentioned boy laid next to you on the bed.
He was smiling at you and you raised your brows.
“Baby?” he asked.
“Yeah?” you placed a kiss on his forehead which made his smile even wider.
“Let’s go on a date.” he offered.
“Sure, when do you want to go?” you laid your head on his arm.
“Now.” he laughed and you lifted your head to look at him with raised eyebrows.
“Now?”
“Yeah, let’s get dressed and we can go somewhere. Cinema, park, coffee shop.” he shrugged “Whatever you want.”
You laughed but got up from the bed and blonde boy followed your movements with his eyes. Cheeky smirk made its way onto his face when he was checking out your almost naked form.
“Are you getting up or what?” you raised your eyebrows and he laughed but got up and started dressing “Let’s go to park, I will prepare some snacks and we can have a picnic.”
“Sounds lovely.” Sam kissed your forehead while he was next to you to take fresh shirt from the shelf.
You both got ready and while Sam was looking for blankets you prepared snacks and drinks to take with you.
When you were both ready you made your way towards nearest park. It wasn’t far from your apartment, just a few minutes walk.
“Aww look at this pup.” you cooed to Sam, looking at the small golden retriever pup that was passing by you with his owner “We should get a dog one day.”
“If you want a dog we can get one even tomorrow.” he muttered affectionately to you and you lifted your eyes to met his. He was looking at you with puppy eyes and content smile, it made you feel butterflies.
“Let’s wait with it some time.” you giggled although you really wanted to agree “You have few trips planned and it would be better to get a dog while we’re both around so it could get used to both of us.”
“You’re right.” he smiled and kissed your head “What dog are you thinking about getting?”
You laughed nervously. How do you tell him you already knew what dog you would get? And you even talked with shelter about possible adoption.
You knew you should have talked about it with Sam first but you saw an add of the shelter on some website with the exact dog on the poster.
It was lovely, about one year old, girl who was rescued from people who neglected her. You fell for her ever since you saw her picture and even harder when you saw her at the shelter in person. You really planned to go there with Sam but he was on a trip with Colby back then.
“Alright, so I might want to take back my words about waiting.” you giggled and he looked at you with amusement and raised brows “I actually already know what dog we should adopt. And I might or might not had already talked with shelter about adopting this lovely girl.” you shrugged innocently and rushed to add “I’m sure you will love her, she’s such a cutie and so friendly.”
“Is it by any chance the dog you have on your laptop’s wallpaper?” he giggled and your eyes widened but you nodded uncertainly “She’s cute.” he admitted “We should go shopping for things for her.” he shrugged and you stopped in your tracks.
“Really? You’re not mad?” you asked hopefully placing your hands on his arms and he laughed.
“I’m not mad. I knew you would start this subject soon ever since I saw the picture. I might or might not also already met her at the shelter.” he stated.
“What? When?” you were surprised.
“Me and Colby were in shelter when there was this action to promote adoption. She quickly wormed her way into my heart.” he shrugged “I wanted to talk with you about her but then I saw the picture and decided to wait.”
“I love you.” you kissed him and soon you continued your way to the park.
Yeah, he was your golden boy. And he really made loving fun.
#sam golbach x reader#samuel golbach#sam golbach#sam and colby#colby brock#snc#colby#katrina stuart#jake webber#johnnie guilbert#tara yummy#tarayummy#youtube
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im having so much fun with these @vapolis thank you for my life
also orla couldnt be in this one because if she was things would have gone very differently and i wouldnt have been able to do what i set out to do
gets a bit violent lol but no more than this game gets i dont think
There’s a saying about best-laid plans.
Jax whips back behind cover, slamming against the doorframe, narrowly dodging another round of gunfire. When it stops, he reaches around the doorframe and takes a few shots of his own. There’s a shout. Jax hopes he hit something important.
Orla was meeting with the head of the Vipers to settle a territory deal. It was supposed to be quick and simple, and the Vipers were supposed to have top-notch security. Apparently their people weren’t as good as they thought, because the meeting was attacked halfway through by a group Jax has yet to identify.
Aster had been closer to Orla than Jax, and had just picked her up and took off. Not that Jax blames him. Especially since Orla isn’t going to appreciate being treated like a damsel in distress no matter how fueled by blind panic Aster was at the time.
Still, someone had to cover Orla’s escape. The idiots must be content with taking out one of Orla’s people if they can’t have her, because as soon as they realized she was gone and Jax wasn’t they were quick to switch targets.
That, or they just don’t know who they’re supposed to be after.
He hears something roll in the hallway, but isn’t stupid enough to risk peeking.
There’s an explosion and plenty of smoke down the hall, though, and he jerks his head up in time to see Aster sprinting toward him out of the smoke while their attackers are busy coughing their lungs out. He slides his mask down around his neck and tosses another smoke bomb for good measure before they both take off.
They aren’t running for long before Jax hears another few wild shots. Aster growls and answers with a few of his own.
After a few turns, Aster slows unexpectedly, and Jax nearly outpaces him. He stops short and turns to see Aster leaning against the wall, panting and pressing his hand against his shoulder. Blood wells between his fingers, barely visible against the black of his vest.
“Orla sent you back for me?” Jax asks.
“Probably,” Aster grits out.
“Probably?”
“I was already making for the door when she opened her mouth,” replies Aster as he pushes away from the wall.
He takes the lead as they round the next several turns, heading deeper into the complex. Jax had been leading the uninvited guests away from the direction Aster had taken Orla, so it wasn’t as if Aster could just lead them back out the way he came in. There’s no other halls connected to this one, just doors scattered throughout. There has to be an exit soon. Unless the complex’s architect refused to follow fire code. Jax knows they must be underground since he went down a flight of stairs early on, but apart from that he’s lost.
Aster is slowing down, though, breathing going ragged. Jax looks over his shoulder to check on him.
He’s ghostly pale, face drawn and teeth bared. He wipes sweat from his face, leaving behind a red smudge. Jax bravely resists picking on him for it.
They find a staircase. Jax glances at Aster, then eyes the stairs.
“I can make it,” mutters Aster, brushing past Jax. “Let’s go.”
And he does, even if he collapses against the wall at the top and slides down to the floor while Jax closes the door behind them.
Jax feels along the wall for a switch. There’s no point in trying to hide. Their pursuers know exactly where they are.
Jax flips the first switch he finds, and maybe half of the lights come on.
They’re in the auditorium of a church, of all places, judging by the Jesus posters. It doesn’t look like it’s been used in a good while, though the basketball floor looks well-maintained. There’s a huge stack of dusty folding chairs off in the corner and some flimsy tables, but nothing substantial enough that it could block the door they just came through. Jax can spot a bin of sports equipment across the room, but even if there’s something he could use to tie the door shut he doubts he could get there, find it, and get back before they’re caught.
There’s a side door off in the far end of the room, mostly hidden in a darkened corner. Jax would’ve missed it if not for the glowing exit sign.
“Come on,” he orders, hauling Aster to his feet by his uninjured arm.
It still hurts regardless, if Aster’s sharp inhale is any indication, but he doesn’t make any other noise. And he still follows Jax, surprisingly stable considering how much blood he’s lost. Continues to lose, blood dripping slowly from his fingers.
The door behind them bursts open when they’re still a few yards away. Jax grabs Aster and picks up speed, all but dragging him along.
Jax hears gunfire, but doesn’t bother turning to look. Bullets zip past them, narrowly missing.
The exit door suddenly swings open, crashing into the outside wall. Someone darts past them and into the building.
There’s a scream, then a wet crunch, followed by more gunfire.
Jax practically throws Aster outside and whips around.
There’s one man on the ground not that from the door, weakly dragging himself forward with one hand and clutching at the knife buried in his neck with the other. There’s a woman against the wall, blood staining the front of her shirt as she cradles a terribly-broken jaw. Her pistol is several feet away, entirely forgotten. Jax can see bare bone gleaming between her fingers.
He follows the trail of destruction until he reaches Ray, currently straddling someone’s chest as he slams his fists into their face. No, not his fists. Jax isn’t sure when Ray managed to get those spiked knuckles back from the last time he tried to sneak them into the club, but Jax knows how particular Ray is about his weapons. He wouldn’t just go buy a new set.
(Which means it’s time to move the stash again, notes Jax.)
Jax closes the door. He gets one last glimpse through the window of Ray rolling away from his current victim to escape a round of bullets before he turns to make sure Aster is on his feet.
“How did he get here so fast?” Jax wonders aloud, leading Aster across the parking lot. There’s a dumpster he can hide behind while Jax goes back to help Ray finish cleaning up.
“He was probably outside the whole time,” says Aster faintly.
“Orla didn’t ask him to be here.”
Aster rolls his eyes.
“That’s sixteen,” he replies.
There’s a box full of newspapers behind the dumpster, and Aster drops onto it without prompting.
“This is the sixteenth time I’ve tried to tell you and Orla this,” continues Aster. “and neither of you ever believes me.”
“About what?” Jax asks. “Ray?”
“Yes.”
Jax takes a moment to reload. He slips the old magazine into his coat. There’s still three bullets left, by his count, but he’d prefer to go in with a fresh one.
“He doesn’t like these missions. He thinks they’re boring, if he’s standing around inside,” Aster explains. “So he pretends he’s too mouthy for Orla to trust him with them.”
Jax peers around the dumpster. No one has followed them out.
“But he doesn’t like to be left out, so he sets up across the street and watches.”
“I think you’re giving him too much credit,” Jax mutters.
“I think you’re not giving him enough,” retorts Aster.
Jax ducks down and makes a run for it back toward the church. He’s nearly there when the door opens again, much less dramatically this time.
Ray steps out.
His face is flushed, chest still heaving from the fight. His hair is matted against his forehead with blood, left eye already purpling spectacularly. He could probably save the leather jacket, if he’s fast. Red drips from his spiked knuckles, and Jax notices a small tuft of hair, skin still attached, stuck to one deadly point.
Ray’s mouth is stained red, as is the front of his formerly-white crop top. Jax can just barely make out the “don’t forget to smile” decal through the mess. Kind of a shame. Jax knows it’s one of Ray’s favorites.
(Not that he probably won’t keep it anyway.)
He smiles, and his teeth are bloody. There’s a wild look in his eyes, and Jax has the inexplicable urge to kiss his busted lip. What took you so long and your place or mine and thank you dance on the tip of his tongue.
“Did you fucking bite someone?” Jax asks instead.
Ray laughs.
“Woof, woof.”
#rywd#some day i Will write orla but that day could not be today#if orla hadnt been Evacuated they would have been able to just fight their way out the front door#ray is keeping that shirt 100% and now loves it even more#someone asks where he got it and ray's like “i made it (:”
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🌌 TOO MANY NIGHTS
synopsis. theodore nott spent too many nights, smoking and hanging out with matt’s little sister to not make her his girlfriend.
notes. theodore nott x riddle!reader. reader is a hufflepuff! pls, let’s pretend you’re 12 when u get to hogwarts xoxo, just for the plot
theodore nott had always been fascinated by how many differences there were between his best friend mattheo and mattheo’s younger sister. while mattheo wanted to fight anyone, who just scrunched their nose at him, you would rather have your nose broken, so the other person wouldn’t have to go through that pain. while mattheo could be consider as the grumpy (their oldest sibling obviously being the grumpier), you held the tilte of the sunshine.
theo believed it suited you. ever since the three of you were kids, mattheo had his best friend grow protective of you in the same way he had, looking out for you even if you didn’t want it. however, whenever it was nott making your blood boil with some nonsense — you couldn’t get as mad at him as you’d get at your brother. it’s because he’s not my brother, he’s theo, you’d always tell yourself. the truth was that as much as you wanted, you could never be angry with him.
the same thing continued when you started hogwarts. although, you could feel the shifting of your friendship with theo. maybe it all started to happen, because you were growing up, or maybe it was meant to be like that. anyways — you found yourself dreaming of your childhood friend in situations… that made you blush profusely whenever you walked passed him. it was complicating things so much you tried to push it aside, nevertheless to no avail.
“you like him.” a friend of yours joked, when you confessed your thoughts about theo, and… even if gabriela said it in a joking way, you couldn’t help but wonder if she was right.
turns out, she was.
it was all revealed, when another older friend of yours asked you out to the yule ball, and you had to watch theo having fun with daphne greengrass as well as their own group of friends that you weren’t a part of. did it sting? like hell. should’ve you expected it? absolutely. some would say — you should wait for the moment, when he asks you to the ball, but you knew you were just matt’s little sister in his eyes. a mere childhood friend he used to play with when he was younger, though all that ended the second he (and your brother) got his letter, from this moment on theodore nott was a serious, adult man.
few years later, when the slytherins were throwing a party in celebration of mattheo’s eighteen birthday, as his sister, you got an invitation. as much as you loved your brother, you definitely weren’t a big party person — you’d rather spend your time in the smaller group of people, chilling to the muggle music and maybe get high. nonetheless, it was your sibling’s birthday and you wouldn’t hear the end of it if you didn’t show up.
to be fair, matt’s celebration was one of the first slytherin parties you ever attended, and from all the rumors coating its mysterious aura, your expectations were pretty high.
gabriela, the friend of yours, whom you confided in having a small crush on theo, apparently never forgotten that conversation and decided to ‘spice your night a tad’, her exact words. she lent you a fitted, emerald, silky dress that ended slightly above your knee, she did your make up and gave a nose kiss for good luck.
for the first two and a half hour of the party, you couldn’t really catch a glimpse of the boy you were looking for, so your attention were turned towards plan b, which was getting wasted — and maybe meeting someone to get your brother’s best friend off your mind. so as i said, two and a half hour later, you were much more eccentric, bubbly, and definitely more ray of sunshine, caused by the loads of alcohol you put in yourself.
“teddy!” you exclaimed with a grin as you swiftly made your way towards where he was sitting in the corner of the room. a cigarette in his hand, few of his first buttons undone, a smirk lingering on his lips, although it was gone the second he saw you, being replaced with a genuine, but almost unnoticeable smile.
“riddle.” he replied. the corners of his lips went slightly upwards as your hands were wrapped around him, right after you plopped down on the couch next to him. “drunk?” theo asked, his head tilted to the side to get a better view of your flushed face.
“never.” a giggle slipped past your lips. you leaned more on him, serving him another one of your charming beams. “can i have a hypothetical question?”
“hypothetical?” he echoed your words, suppressing a laugh in attempt to not hurt your drunken feelings. “sure, riddle. go on.” nott added upon seing you nod your head.
“could you give me one of your cigarettes?” you grinned once again, putting all effort into a pleading puppy expression you thought you’ve mastered. his answers made you uncertain about your manipulation/daddy’s girl skills.
once again, theodore fought back a chuckle, putting on a teasing smirk. “no.”
“teddy!”
“what? wasn’t it hypothetical?” he snickered, watching you groan theatrically, lowering yourself on the green sofa. it took him a moment to ease your needs and pull out a package of muggle cigarettes that made you raise your eyebrow in curiosity at him. “they’re the best, believe me.” he mumbled with a cigarette in between his lips.
soon after, he tugged you closer after having looked around to see if mattheo was out of sight. as soon as his nerves were settled and your brother was nowhere to be found, theo’s fingers were wrapped around the lighter he bought in second year. the asshole he was, it felt like he was lighting it up for so long you were about to turn eighty. his gaze was instantly focused on your eyes. butterflies were slowly erupting in your stomach with each second he slacked off to light it.
somehow, you two parted your ways few minutes later, ending the sparkling moment between you two with a quick and rash kiss on nott’s cheek, a little too close to his lips for your brother’s liking, too far for yours.
although, the separation didn’t last too long. at least for him, because, when you met him again, you were drunk out of your mind, giggling at every single word someone said to you. good thing theo’s gut feeling told him to look after you.
you were stumbling over your own feet, stuttering at easiest words until you finally landed in paradise— or just his arms. accidentally, but you could cross it out from your checklist, not that you had one.
“hiya.” a soft smile made its way onto your face as he tightened the grip on your waist, not because you smiled so charmingly at him, but also because some older dudes that occupied his previous spot was busy undressing you with their eyes.
if you weren’t mattheo’s little sister, he’d probably try to get you to agree to have a quick round in his round, hell — maybe not even that quick, he could spend an entire night with a girl like you. unfortunately, the reality was different. he could never take an advantage of you, you were too… you and theodore nott liked that too much to just… ruin it.
“what’re you doing?” you asked, frowning as he picked you up and turned towards the staircase. “teddy– put me down, please.” the words left your lips in a slurred manner, but theodore didn’t budge, not even once.
the teenager obeyed your request the moment he walked through the door to his dormitory that was shared with mattheo. theodore sat you on his bed, his green eyes scanning your face intently, while you stiffled a laughter. as a result, you got a confused expression from him. “what?” he asked.
“you’re so pretty.” a soft mumble left your mouth. it had always been hard to catch theodore nott off guard, mostly because he was an intelligent and cunning person, who always noticed the bigger picture, predict the intentions before someone even opened their mouth, yet you did it. if your mind wasn’t so clouded with alcohol, you’d count it as a small win.
anyway, theo didn’t let your words get too much of a hold on him as he silently continued to undress you. as wrong as it sounds, he was doing you a simple favour — nott wanted to bring you comfort and safety, so he dragged you to his dorm and began unzipping your dress, leaving you in your underwear.
it took the boy all the possible strength he had in himself to control all the urges he just felt. it would be so wrong if he got hard just from the mere sight of the goddess sitting in front of him, with pouty lips and a baffled expression caused by his lack of response to her compliment.
“teddy?” you tried getting his attention once again, involuntarily scrapping off the polish of your nails as your eyes rested on his back, watching him shuffle through his closet to find you a comfortable pyjama.
to be fair, theo absolutely loathed the nickname. teddy reminded him of a child he used to be, a child with a loving mother, who would always call him that exact nickname. it wasn’t too much of a hassle, because no one called him that — until you did and it seemed like you couldn’t get rid of it from your vocabulary. somehow, it never bugged him when you did it. the way ‘teddy’ rolled off your tongue always gave him some sort of warm feeling in his stomach.
“mm?” your brother’s best friend muttered, his back still facing you. seconds later, he’s again in front of you, nudging you yet so slightly, so you put your hands above your head. “what is it, y/n/n?” he used the nickname you haven’t heard in a while, causing a literal war in your abdomen.
“could you kiss me?” for barely a second, his brain stopped functioning. he stopped in his tracks, oversized t–shirt still in his hands, all that until he decided to spare your embarrassment the next day and acted like he didn’t just hear what he heard. he was foolish for thinking that a sight of you almost naked and not getting a hard–on was the worst part of his night. now, theodore’s brain was filled with images of you two making out, and… it’s tough.
wordlessly, he finally put the shirt on you, nudging you afterwards, worry was still vividly lingering on his face as he watched you getting comfortable. “i’ll be right here.” nott murmured, grabbing a pillow, laying down on the floor. theo on one side of his bed, the bucket he brought you in case throwing up on the other.
both of you knew that he could go back downstairs, maybe even hook–up with some girl and spend the night at her dorm, just like mattheo did. nevertheless, he stayed there right with you.
it was further in the night, when you woke up and noticed that he still occupied his spot on the floor next to the bed. a pang of guilt hit you (as well as the pounding in your head) as you stared at his peaceful state.
merlin, theodore faustus nott was today times’ adonis and you felt like you could just spend the rest of the night gawking at how insanely beautiful he was. you could barely resist the urge to run your hand through his dark curls.
“you know i can feel you’re staring, riddle?” theo chuckled with his eyes still closed. shit. at least it was dark enough, so he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks. “somethin’ bothering you?” he asked, giving you a concerned look.
“sleep on the bed, please?” you pleaded. he was about to refuse, when you continued. “i know you don’t want to kiss me, but it breaks my heart seeing you suffer there, when there’s enough room for two people here.” the words coming out of your mouth are quiet. the embarrassment and absurdity of this whole situation got to you — if you just didn’t ask him to kiss you, he’d probably sleep in the bed with you, but you obviously had to ruin it.
“y/n/n, i want to kiss you.” he said, his tone matching yours. “but i can’t, you know it. mattheo would kill me the second he knew.” theo knew he shouldn’t but the urge was too great to resist, so he placed his hands on your knees, reducing the distance between the two of you.
“matt doesn’t have to know.” a whispers left your lips as you leaned an inch closer, brushing the tip of your nose against theo’s. “teddy, please.” you pleaded, staring at him with urgency in your eyes.
it took theodore half a second to consider his options. he could’ve refused and regret it afterwards, but stay alive or he could’ve just kissed you and maybe get into a heated argument with mattheo. so… a voice in his head said fuck it and kissed you with all those feelings he’s had in him.
you could feel your entire world stop the second his lips fell on yours with urgency and passion. it was all you ever dreamed of, he was the guy who was your last thought before sleep and the first after waking up. a silly, childhood crush that developed over the years into… something you couldn’t describe. theodore nott had you wrapped around his finger without even knowing it — if he asked you to jump into a fire pit for a longing glance, you wouldn’t think about it twice and jump.
your fingers were tangled in his curls as he, without breaking the kiss, leaned more towards you, until your back hit the fabric of his sheets. to be completely honest, you felt like your stomach was about to be ripped apart just from the proximity between the two of you.
the kiss lasted way longer than you expected. it could’ve been hours, but you could never been sure. his lips were just inches apart, when he pulled away yet so slighty, letting out a groan as you nudged the tip of your nose again his.
“you don’t even know how much i wanted to do that.” his words were quiet. “matt will kill me, won’t he?” a low chuckle espaced his throat qs you let out a groan in response.
“could you stop mentioning my brother and just kiss me, nott?”
#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x reader#theodore nott#theo nott#theodore nott rec#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theo nott rec#theo nott fic#theodore nott fic#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#slytherin boys x reader#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter x reader#niki’s works 🫂#theodore nott x riddle!reader#theodore nott smut#theo nott smut
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YOUR? OUR MARGARET
PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader
SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.
WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!
WORD COUNT: 4.5k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!
MY MASTERLIST
Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.
He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.
Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has.
He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is.
A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.
Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon.
However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:
Dada.
Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.
It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man.
Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better.
So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature.
Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.
Peaceful, he liked it.
But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon.
After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging.
The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.
At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.
His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.
“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him.
“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.
A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.
And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience.
Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air.
You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.
“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”
“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.”
“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.
She started crying.
You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew.
“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having.
You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.
“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”
“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.
“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”
“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”
“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.
“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”
It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.
Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.
Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence.
However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.
“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”
“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy.
“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye.
Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings.
And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret.
Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.
He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk.
However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you.
Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up.
He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.
It was as if the universe was against him.
Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.
On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.
“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”
In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.
“I wouldn't like to intrude.”
“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”
Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.
“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”
“Are you free this 14th?”
He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time.
Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?
⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹
He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.
The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish.
But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date.
Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror.
Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.
The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.
He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.
The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations.
He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.
But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.
He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do.
But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.
He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario.
Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope.
So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.
Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret.
He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.
When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.
A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.
“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”
Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret.
“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.
“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself.
“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”
Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.
You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.
“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.
He wants to.
“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry.
And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.
“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.
Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle.
“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you.
“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.
As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep.
“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose.
You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.
You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter.
“Would you like to help me?” You murmur.
Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.
“If you let me.”
Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you.
You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.
As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior.
Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.
“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this.
“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.
If that was even possible.
As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.
You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it.
He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.
If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world.
Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.
Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.
He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.
Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess.
As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.
What's next?
What is he supposed to do now?
As if on cue, your words break the silence.
“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.
“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”
“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.
“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”
He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.
For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.
Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.
“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you.
You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.
As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.
Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.
Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.
The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.
After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.
“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background.
“What do you mean?”
“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”
He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have.
“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted.
“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”
“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”
Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.
He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.
And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession.
A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—
Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.
He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.
As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.
And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.
The one is indeed not a myth.
AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)
💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy fluff#resident evil#resident evil x reader
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It looks like with the movies taking off, everyone is on the Dune train now!! Which is very exciting, I’m glad a bunch of new people are discovering this media and reading the books, but can I recommend you the David Lynch, Dune (1984) movie.
First of all, if you are invested in the lore of the books and the deeper messaging of the story, you’re going to need to turn that part of your brain Off. If you love kick ass shit and are willing to be slightly tipsy while you watch and have a great goddamn afternoon, this is the flick for you.
Now first fun fact I’m going to share with you. David Lynch (twin peaks, eraserhead director, celebrated surrealist) turned down the opportunity to direct Return of the Jedi for this film. A film that was devastatingly slow to make, changed hands multiple times, had a pricy VFX budget of $40 million and then made barely $31 million, David Lynch turned down Star Wars to work on it. And he did this when he had never read the novel, and did not even like or engage with sci fi media. THAT’S how you know we’re really in for something.
Now this film has some big names in it! We’ve got a young Kyle MacLachlan who is rocking some Devastating outfits:
We’ve got Sir Patrick Stewert as our Gurney and Sting, lead singer of the police, playing the 15 year old Feyd Rautha! If you wanted to see a grown man, sprayed orange, basically naked playing a free wheeling maniac you are in for a treat! And another fun fact, David Lynch also did not know who these actors were, he made a mistake and thought Patrick Stewert was someone else and when Sting said he was in the police he assumed he was in an organization of lawmen.
Now these characters are familiar to you, but let me get into the unfamiliar. Lynch made some directorial executive decisions throughout this film, for I suppose the ease of the viewer? I mean an adaptation is supposed to adapt so he went let me change some stuff up👏👏👏.
Those who paid attention to Jessica’s backstory may know about the Weirding Way. This is a martial arts style created by the Bene Gesserit, and practiced by Paul. It is more than just a fighting style but also an important philosophical concept, like Aikido or how Kung Fu has foundations in Buddhism.
You may also be familiar with the quote “My name is a killing word.” This inner monologue of Paul’s refers to how his title Muad’dub will be used to spur a holy war. A simple name is what people will die and bleed for, it will be what they scream as they cut down enemies.
Dark! Intense! That’s Dune, anyways in the novel it’s easy to take your time exploring these concepts. Introducing the audience to the religious ramifications of a simple name and fighting practice and how these things can have rippling repercussions upon a society like the Freman.
Now David Lynch didn’t have time for that! He had the belief (that may be right🤷♂️!) That watching a bunch of people kick each other on top of a sand dune would be Lame😭😭
So he made the choice for his film that “My name is a killing word” was to be taken Absolutely Literally and invented a device where if the freman said the name Muad-dib, shit would explode.
If they said Paul’s name, they could Explode Stuff. Let it sink in how rad that is. Hell yeah man, hell yeah. Imagine me interpreting religious text that way, imagine if I made a bible movie and the moral I took from a parable is that when Jesus asked for food and everyone donated fish, I concluded that Jesus was a mutant who had fish powers and could immediately conjure fish with magic and gave him fish death rays that shot out of his hands.
So that’s what you can expect from this interpretation, the weirding way now means everyone has Lasers its rad as hell.
Some other incredible choices made! This is a spoiler, but in the novels and the new films you can see the Freman collecting every scrap of water they can. Dr Liet-Kynes, the planetologist, reveals to us it’s because they have a long, multiple generation spanding plan to fix the planet. By introducing this water back they hope to reset the ecosystem over centuries of work. The reason they have been unable to do this is because a green planet would obviously not have worms and sand who produce spice, the most coveted drug in the empire, so imperial and harkonnen forces have been stopping this from ever happening. They want to be free from oppression so that they can start to work on slowly fixing their world, a project that plays out in Paul’s adult life and has its own dramas and complexities.
In Dune 1984??? The moment, the Moment Paul lays out his cousin and throws the final punch, it begins to rain in Arrakis. As if they were all under a magical curse and were just waiting for a teenager to come fight another teenager and then the water will come back. It’s so good, it’s so funny.
Also Pugs! House Atreides official Pugs! Paul has pugs in his lap!!
This is honestly an adaptation choice that I really really like! Paul is the result of centuries of selective breeding, this practice is an artform to the Bene Gesserit and a skill that they monitor closely. It produces bizarre and sometimes terrifying results and is the reason for Paul’s existence.
I think having an animal that was also created through selective breeding, was engineered from a wolf into an animal that can hardly breathe is an incredible metaphor! A smart and identifiable symbol for the audience, I think it’s a slam dunk and the new movies should have done it to.
Anyways can not recommend this film enough.
-The body suits the bad guys wear are made out of real body bags, that actually had been used.
-David Lynch to this day hates it.
-The original cut was four hours.
-The cast and crew were sick the Entire shoot with something they called Montezuma's Revenge, which was probably just food poisoning, side effects from the constant smog because they shot the whole thing on backup generators, illness from the cockroach infestation and terrible morale.
-Frank Herbert saw it multiple times and said he absolutely loved it.
-When they ride the worms, sick rock jams play.
If you love electric guitar, lasers, worms and will forgive me for not including all the trigger warnings cause Yes this film will gross you out, then go watch this movie.
#dune#paul atreides#lady Jessica#dune movie#dune Frank herbert#dune 1984#movies#scifi#kyle maclachlan#david Lynch#films
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I need to go! No you need to race! - Max Verstappen x SwedishOlympicHockey! Reader
Plot: You get hurt during a hockey match at the Nationals and Mad Max makes a return for all the right reasons!
Credit to mverstappenn for the GIF
Usually yours and Max's timetable linked up, you'd be training or doing your tournaments from Monday to Wednesday which Max would join you on before you left in his jet with him to wherever his race was that weekend.
But this week you had a national tournament which was on a Saturday, Sunday where Max was in the world. It was race day for him, and he was using one of the televisions to watch your tournament being streamed.
He couldn't understand any of it, where it was in Swedish so he just watched on with some of the mechanics who knew you and were rooting for you.
It was a good game and you guys were winning, absolutely tearing up the hockey field of the stadium you guys were in. Every time you scored, everyone watching cheered and Max had a big grin on his face when it zoomed in on your face yelling in a smile.
He always found it funny when you smiled as you wore a mouth guard that made your cheeks look puffy.
But things took a turn, it was about 20 minutes until the end of your game and an hour before the race started. All the mechanics were crowed around the TV watching until one of the girls in the opposing team swung their stick up, just as another tripped you up causing the base of the stick to smash into your face.
Max's hand came up to cover his mouth and 'oooooo's' flowed around from the mechanics realizing what just happened.
"Is she okay?" one of them said.
"I could hear something break!" another admitted.
Max watched as a few girls helped you to stand, but it was hard your nose was streaming blood down your face and the knock had clearly made you a little fuzzy.
Max was frowning gripping his fists as he watched the girl who hit you argue with the ref and medics who came out. She was pretty much shouting while you held your nose to try and stop the blood flow coming out.
You were escorted off the pitch and Max immediately went to his phone hounding you with messages asking if you were okay.
When that didn't work he proceeded to blow up your fathers phone who had been at the match in person and would be with you, which also didn't work.
He was so caught up with trying to get in contact with you that he didn't see Christian come up to him.
"Max?" Christian asks tentatively having heard what happened from the mechanics.
"I need to go!" Max exclaims looking up still having no word from your family on how you are doing.
"No, you need to race!" Christian says looking to his watch which showed it wasn't long before he needed to get in the car.
"I can't get in contact with her though, and what if something happens when I'm racing and she needs me!" he admits angrily raising his voice at his team principle.
"Max, calm down!" Christian says, his voice going a little gruffer.
"NO! I need to know shes okay!" he shouts and everyone can tell he's getting madder by the second. He only ever got like this when he was younger and someone crashed into him, he didn't have as well a hold on his emotions back then than he did now. But that was slowly slipping.
He was arguing back and forth with Christian until his phone rang. It was your contact number.
He didn't answer straight away frozen in shock from your number being up there.
"Schat?" he asks as he holds his phone to his ear.
"läckerbit" you tease knowing he hated that nickname.
"Are you okay?" he asks and you can tell he's worried from the tense and strain in his voice.
"Focus on the race, I'm fine and you'll see me soon" you smile into the phone making loads of kissy noises to him before he sighs nodding. You reassure him before you hang up turning to the nurse who was coming back with the x-rays of you nose.
"Yeah, it's definitely broken!" she sighs showing you making ou sigh too.
"Oooo and you have a mild concussion!" she smiles kindly making you laugh a little.
After the race and his podium, Max rushed as quickly as his jet provided to get to the hospital in Sweden you were being helped in.
He tried to sleep on the flight but was far too nervous to the point where he was pacing up and down the free walkway in the middle of the jet until the airhost made him take a seat handing him a beer to calm his nerves.
When he arrived to your private room in the hospital to see you scrolling through your phone he didn't fully take in your appearance at first.
He didn't note the greasy hair, or the bags under your eyes or the stuff helping fix your nose.
"Hey Schat!" he sighs and your head snaps up you look at him in disgust and shock.
"No! Don't look at me!" you cry pulling his hoodie up over you head and face to cover everything. And he couldn't help but laugh at your reaction. Hiding from him as if he hadn't seen you at your worst.
"Why are you hiding from me Princess" he laughs coming over and sitting on the edge of the bed after having taking a picture of your embarrassment.
"Mmmmm i look awful!" you say peeking at him through the hood.
"I think you look beautiful, like always" he grins, kissing you cheek not wanting to risk kissing your lips and numbing his nose with yours.
y/user
Liked by maxverstappen1 and redbullracing
y/user: This weekend in order between my hockey competition and Max’s race.
Image 1 - me and my girlie frejalarsson getting ready for battle (we had a national tournament)
Image 2 - Max at his race to me tacking a hockey stick to the face 😳 (my nose was bleeding pretty bad)
Image 3 - Max leaving after his race on Sunday to fly to me in Sweden to visit me in the hospital. (I looked awful and was embarrassed)
Image 4 - going with Max to Monaco to get cuddles from Jimmy and Sassy
It’s been eventful to say the least!
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redbullracing: get well soon y/n!
maxverstappen1: now I know how you feel when I get into a crash! Scariest moment of my life! So glad you are okay! 🥰
-> y/user: Love you Käresta 🤭🫶🏼
landonorris: get well soon y/n! Need you in the club asap 🍾🎈
-> y/user: i broke my nose Lando …
-> landonorris: so you can’t party with a broke nose? LAME!
-> maxverstappen1: I’m breaking your nose next buddy if you aren’t careful ❗️
-> landonorris: 😦
Instagram Story Caption: Lego Date 🧱
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@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfiction#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen f1#mv1 x you#mv1 fic#mv33 fic#mv1 imagine#mv1 x reader#mv1#mv33 imagine#mv33 x reader#mv33#mv33 x you
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Simmer #7
CH7. Spice Box | The Menu
[4.1K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
Eddie held the door open for you as you approached the trailer, hand waving you in as he smiled, shy.
The trailer was tidier than you’d ever seen it before, a valiant effort made in anticipation for your arrival. The usual piles of washed laundry were moved from the dining booth bench, the ashtrays moved from the living room coffee tables. The trailer was unusually quiet, smelling like mountain cedar, if the can of air freshener on Wayne’s armchair was anything to go by.
You did your usual, despite the way you felt like you were there for the first time. For a first date. But you toed off your shoes by the door and lingered in the kitchen, fingers twisting together as you wondered what came next. This? This part was new, this was different.
Eddie smiled shyly as he followed behind, hands skimming your shoulders as he squeezed past you and the counter, opening the fridge. The white-yellow glow filled the room, clashing with the pink sunset that came in from the living room blinds.
“Okay, what are you feelin’?” Eddie said into the refrigerator, his fingers tapping on the door. “We got stuff for omelettes, I could do pasta, oh, hey, I make a mean gnocchi.” Eddie emerged with a quart of pesto, wiggling one of the diners' plastic containers at you.
You smiled, shrugging easily because you’d be happy with some toast if it meant Eddie kept looking at you like that. You leaned against the dining table edge, lips pressed together and trying your hardest to keep it together. Eddie looked too pretty in the sunlight, that peachy pink golden flow, the last rays turning his brown eyes the colour of caramel as he looked at you.
“I don’t mind,” you told him softly, “anything you make will be good.”
Eddie grinned, bashful, cheeks pink and he held his hand out to you, coaxing you into holding onto his fingers so he could tug you forward. You were supposed to look in the fridge too, check out the mountains of fresh ingredients he liked to pack into it, the tubs of homemade sauces and pickled veg. But instead, you stumbled into the boy, socked feet touching his boots, knees bumping.
It was awkward in an innocent way, your smile shy and matching Eddie’s, his faltering a little when he realised how close you were. His hand held yours a little tighter and when he realised you weren’t moving away, well shit, he didn’t bother to either. His fingers twisted in yours, thumb running over the backs of your knuckles and he swallowed hard as he looked down at you.
“Uh, we could, uh, I could make some lasagna. Or, or a stir fry?” Eddie stumbled over his words, brows furrowed in concentration as he studied each part of your face. The line of your nose, the fan of your lashes, the curve of your lip. “If you want. I don’t, I don’t mind cookin’ whatever.”
You felt bolder than ever when you let your hand slip from Eddie’s and climb up his forearm, finger wrapping around the cords of muscle there, thumb rubbing at the sensitive skin on the inside crook of his elbow. It made the boy still, lips parting in surprise. It felt nice to be this close, chests almost touching, Eddie’s hand falling to hold your waist instead, fingertips pushed to the soft cotton of your sundress.
“I’m not, I’m not really all that hungry, right now,” you told him softly. You were nervous, wondering if this was supposed to happen this way. If this was supposed to happen this soon. But you couldn’t bring yourself to step away.
The refrigerator door was still open.
Eddie nodded, agreeing. “Yeah, sure. No, same. We can eat later, if you want.” You watched his Adam’s apple bob, felt his fingers squeeze a little tighter at the plush of your hips. “How’s your head feelin’?”
You smiled at his concern and met his gaze. This much eye contact wasn’t all that surprising but the fact you hadn’t been interrupted yet by someone yelling about hot dog bugs or asking where the napkin refills were was. “It’s fine,” you promised him. “Doesn’t hurt anymore.”
A lie, it was a little tender. But definitely no concussion. You’d iced it when you’d gotten home but for a shorter time than you should’ve, too preoccupied with the idea of jumping into a warm shower and shaving every inch of your leg in preparation for your date. If anything, the idea of spending time alone with Eddie was what had your head spinning.
“Good,” Eddie nodded and you could see him thinking, too much, before he sucked in a quiet breath and lifted a hand to cup the back of your neck. His hand was big enough that it curled all the way round, his thumb tucked into the space under your ear, right along your jaw. You wondered if he could feel your pulse - he probably could. You wondered if he could feel that way it was fucking racing. “Doesn’t hurt, if I do this?”
You were scared to move, worried if you shook your head it would break the spell, scared that Eddie would stop touching you. So you whispered instead, one word on a shaky breath that made Eddie’s eyes get a little wider. “No.”
Eddie pushed his thumb to your jaw a little firmer, suddenly not as worried about touching you, holding you now like you wouldn’t shatter underneath him. “So this is okay?” He whispered back and oh my god, it was more than okay, it was exactly what you wanted and you were still in the middle of his kitchen with the refrigerator light casting over your socks, your shins.
You licked your lips and gave a small nod, eyes trained on his mouth and you heard the boy suck in a breath. “Yeah, it’s okay.” You swallowed, throat bobbing and Eddie felt it under his hand, the movement making him dizzy. “More than okay.”
His thumb moved up, skimming over the apple of your cheek, fingers fanning out over the side of your neck until they were pushing into your hairline and pulling goosebumps from your skin. You didn’t realise you were both walking you backwards until your hips hit the counter. It was a soft bump, everything Eddie did was gentle and his eyes were watching yours the entire time, searching for any hesitation.
It’d been a while since he’d been in a situation like this, but he was pretty fucking positive there was none there.
You confirmed his thoughts by clinging to the front of his shirt, fingertips tugging the material so he’d take the hint and move closer, meeting his chest with yours and it was as much of a first move as you could manage. Shyness still swallowed you, your heart beating embarrassingly fast and all you wanted to do was push up onto your toes and press your lips to Eddie’s but if he rejected you now - for whatever reason - you think you’d have to quit your job and move back to Chicago.
Your back was against the worktop edge, softened only by the way Eddie let his other hand cup your hip and your chest was against his, chin tilted up to look at him, eyes half lidded and matching his own. You could see every freckle, the fan of his lashes, a tiny silver scar on the left corner of his bottom lip that you’d never noticed before. You wondered if he was close enough to feel the heat from your face, the way your bones must’ve been rattling from the thunder of your heartbeat.
It was delicious, the way he crowded you, thumb pushing into your cheek so you’d tilt your head up for him, noses almost brushing now, just waiting for something to give. It had been two months of working alongside Eddie Munson, two months of being his friend, learning how he worked, what each of his smiles meant, how lucky you were to receive one.
Two months of wondering how much longer it would take until he would kiss you.
He licked his bottom lip, tongue peeking out just slightly, eyes studying every move you made, so hesitate, so unsure, as if the way you were pressing yourself against him wasn’t enough of a clue. “We could, uh,” Eddie cleared his throat, nervous. His hand was squeezing the dough of your hip over your dress, the soft material bunching in his palm. “We could watch a movie, if you wanted.”
He said it so distractedly that you were sure the boy didn’t actually know what he was asking. Eddie’s pupils were blown wide, eyes dark, a familiar sight except there wasn’t the haze of smoke between you both now. You smiled, nervous and shy and giddy and brave all at once.
“I don’t wanna watch a movie, Eddie,” you breathed and out and the boy folded, the boy melted like butter under the hot sun and you saw his brows draw together, his tense shoulders fall in relief and then he was nodding, eyes on your mouth and moving closer and closer—
“Oh, thank fuck,” he sighed in return, pushing into you in a rush, his lips crashing to yours before he even finished talking.
It felt like kismet, that first kiss. It felt like it was supposed to happen, because after your heart soared and your stomach somersaulted, Eddie moved his head one way and tilted yours the other, drawing him closer still with your fingers hooked into the collar of his T-shirt. He made the softest noise, nose pushed to your cheek, his thumb dragging over the corner of your mouth and when you gasped for him, his tongue touched your bottom lip, a silent question.
More?
You parted your lips for him, kiss deepening, Eddie’s hand on your waist gripping you tighter as your tongue licked over his and you couldn’t remember when kissing someone felt like this. It felt like a summer heatwave, like someone taking care of you, it felt like a bowl of the most perfect food pushed in front of you, like cracking your fucking head off a table and watching the world spin.
There wasn’t any noise in the trailer except for the hum of the still open fridge door and the soft, breathy sounds from both of you. A sigh, a gasp, a muted groan. It was easy to get caught up in it, no one to interrupt, a whole evening, just for you two. It was a long time coming, a simmering pot, finally bubbling over and when you let out a little moan when Eddie’s hand trailed from your jaw down to your neck, fingers splayed over your throat, the boy pulled back to pant heavily and swear.
Any shyness you’d ever felt was gone with the way he was looking at you, curls falling across flushed cheeks, lips swollen and probably a matching yours. You reached for him, desperate, your hands tangling into his hair as you tried not to pout. “Don’t stop. Please, Eddie,” you whispered and your voice cracked with need and god, it made Eddie’s eyes stutter shut, jaw dropping before tensing.
“Fuck, fuck,” he was whispering, moving back to you with an eagerness that was almost overwhelming.
You thought he was going to kiss you again, but he ducked just slightly and you squeaked when you felt his palms, warm and calloused and so fucking big, wrap around the backs of your thighs. He hauled you up, setting you on the edge of the kitchen counter so you were at his height and both of you ignored the angry squeal of the coffee container, the bread bin and mug stand as your body pushed them out of the way. A new pace was set now and Eddie’s mouth was back on yours before you could ask.
A desperate, messy kind of kiss, deep and longing and all tongues and teeth. The boy nipped at your bottom lip, groaned when you whined and you didn’t even think twice about bringing your legs up to his hips, caging him in and pulling him against you until you felt the scratch of denim again the cotton of your underwear.
It should’ve been too much too fast, it should’ve.
But it wasn’t.
“This okay?” Eddie asked you breathlessly, words gasped between kisses. He pulled back just slightly, hands cupping your hot cheeks, thumbs soothing over the apples of them. His forehead pressed against yours, a grounding touch. “We don’t have to— just tell me if you wanna stop, yeah?”
You nodded, eyes fluttering shut because you were already pulling him back to you and Eddie followed willingly, one hand dropping to your knee, coasting upupup until he was squeezing at the dough of your thigh and groaning into your open mouth. You felt like a couple of teenagers, making out somewhere you weren’t supposed to, getting felt up by your crush in his parents kitchen. It made you dizzy, it made you wet, embarrassingly so. A dirty, hot throb that wrecked your body and lit up, electric, every time Eddie touched you somewhere new.
He didn’t go any higher, his hand stayed there, respectful as he could be when you were kissing him like you didn’t ever want to stop. A few inches below the hem of your dress, practically a gentleman, but his tongue was doing wonderful things against yours and when you rocked yourself a little, using your arms around his neck to press yourself against him, Eddie’s own hips canted forward and he moaned.
It made it easier to drop his other hand from your neck, fingertips skimming just along the curve of your breast before he was dripping your waist and pulling you into him. It wasn’t the best place to be grinding against each other, not when the sofa and his bed were both so close by. But the height of the counter made for the perfect kind of friction and it was dizzying being so close, to be so wrapped up in Eddie. He smelled the same, like lemongrass and smoke and a little bit of cologne.
And when you gripped his curls a little tighter than before and tugged, Eddie fucking whined into your open mouth, barely kissing, just panting into each other's lips and his gentlemanly touch on you wavered. His hand skirted up, fingers sliding under the hem of your red dress and when they skimmed over the elastic edge of your underwear, he was swearing, eyes squeezing shut tighter and raking his blunt nails back down your thigh.
You shuddered, ripping away from Eddie’s lips to suck in a breath but the boy only moved to your neck and you keened at the touch, opened mouth kisses along the line of your throat, his tongue peeking out to lick across your skin, teeth grazing and fiu let him, head thrown back until the already tender spot hir against the kitchen cabinets.
It didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered.
Not when Eddie was dragging his fingers across the neckline of your dress, pushing your sleeve out of the way to expose your shoulders, kissing and sucking at the crook of your neck, mouthing his way down your chest, no bra straps to get in his way. You sighed, the sound coming out with the letters of his name, a noise that made him groan aloud and fuse his lips back to yours, your fingers splayed out over his jaw so you could keep him there.
You were on fire. It was hotter than being in the kitchen. The simmering pot was spilling over now, the flames were licking higher and the lid of it was crashing to the floor, jolting you back to reality.
You pulled back, sucking in air, eyes unfocused and the world was spinning too fast and god you just needed to—
“We should slow down,” Eddie gasped, sounding as wrecked as you felt. His hands were still on you, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath, two hands smoothing up and down your thighs. “Fuck, you’re— that was—”
“Yeah,” you agreed and god you sounded drunk. “I know.”
You tried to diffuse the heat, tried to turn down the flame so everything went back down to a simmer, smiling softly as if the kitchen was on metaphorical fire and Eddie wasn’t harder than he’d ever been in his life. “Umm, do you, d’you wanna eat now?”
Eddie laughed into your neck, cheeks flushed rosy pink and he was hot all over, breathless and the happiest he’d been in a long time. He hummed, nodding before he pulled back, dotting a kiss to your lips, much more chaste than before. He couldn’t help himself, placed another on your cheek, your jaw, the slope of you nose too.
“Yeah, yeah,” he grinned. “How does a grilled cheese sound?”
You laughed too, nodding, because you didn’t think you’d be able to focus on chopping up ingredients or kneading out a dough right now either. “You gonna make it real fancy for me?”
Eddie beamed, brows scrunched together in disbelief, like he was shocked you had to even ask. “What? Sweetheart, please,” he pushed one last kiss to your lips, grimaced at the open fridge door and kicked it shut witn his foot. “S’gonna be the fanciest grilled cheese you’ve ever had.”
—————
“You have a hickey,” Robin poked at your neck, stating the news very matter of factly as she leaned in between the drivers seat and yours.
You batted at her hand, eyes wide, cheeks hot as you leaned back to glare at her. “What? No I don’t.”
Steve snorted and pulled into the diner parking lot, joining Eddie’s van and the other few cars that were waiting for a late breakfast. “Wow, that sounded so believable,” he deadpanned. “Enjoy your hot date with the chef last night?”
The day after your dinner with Eddie only egged on your good mood. A bright day, with blue skies and warm air, the kind of Sunday morning that was straight out of a photograph, big white clouds, sunflower fields in the distance, the smell of coffee and waffles coming from the diner doors.
Eddie had dropped you back at your apartment late, later then he should’ve when he was starting work at six am the next day but you’d stayed to eat grilled cheeses on the sofa with him, pretending to watch some B-roll horror movie as you talked about everything and nothing, legs draped over his lap.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to say but your words got tangled in a grin and they came out too happy, making Steve’s eyes roll as he climbed out of the car.
“You’re a fuckin’ awful liar,” he told you over the roof and Robin snorted in agreement, bending down to peer at her reflection in Steve’s window. She snapped her gum, baby pink against rose coloured lip balm and flipped Steve off when he popped her bubble. “And we’re all late, ‘cause someone couldn’t find their keys, c’mon.”
It felt like a proper friendship, the way you walked around the side of the diner with Steve and Robin, jostling each other and laughing when they took it too far, the girl shrieking when Steve pulled her into a headlock, encouraging you with a grin to give her a noogie. And the laughter bled into the kitchen when you all stumbled into the fire exit door reserved for staff, smoke breaks and crying sessions in the alleyway. But the laughter stopped when you caught sight of Eddie at his station, whisking a bowl of egg yolks and butter, exactly like you expected him to be at eleven am on a sunday.
You didn’t expect the girl, though. Or recognise her.
Strawberry blonde and petite, her uniform shorter than yours, her elbows leaning on Eddie’s station as she beamed up at him. She was pretty. Really pretty.
She turned at the noise of the three of you coming into the kitchen, laughter still on Steve’s lips, a faux argument brewing between him and Robin as they tailed off towards the lockers. You stayed standing, a little shocked. You weren’t sure why, you knew there was staff you hadn’t met before, seasonal members of the diner who split their time between Jim’s and other jobs. She wasn’t doing anything wrong.
She was just— standing too close to the boy you spent the night making out with.
Eddie had put down the bowl and whisk, cleaned his hands on the front of his apron and smiled at you, his face lighting up at the sight, a genuine slice of joy in what was about to be an awkward moment. He said your name, almost shy, looking like he didn’t know how to greet you.
“This is, uh, this is—” he gestured to the girl, trailing off when she bounced over to you, hand extended.
“I’m Chrissy, it’s so nice to meet you,” she gushed. “You’re new, right?”
“Uh, kinda,” you laughed a little weakly. You didn’t feel new anymore. You felt like you belonged. You told her your name, even though she’d already heard Eddie say it. “It’s nice to meet you too.”
No one else really knew what to say then and your plans to greet Eddie with a kiss seemed ruined. The boy looked at you as if he were thinking the same, his smile lopsided and sweet. But he dished the eggs into a pot and started scrambling them, brushing away a stray curl with the back of his hand and he asked you, “have you had breakfast?”
You rolled your eyes, affection lingering there and you relaxed a little, knowing this routine, loving this routine. You grabbed your apron from the hook, tying it round your waist as you brushed past him, a hand skimming his lower back, the closest thing you could do to a greeting.
Chrissy tracked the movement with curious eyes.
“Not yet,” you told him softly and you ached to perch yourself on the stool by his station - your stool - but Chrissy had already walked back over and claimed it. “You gonna tell me off?”
You said it shyly, a hint of flirt there, cheeks warm and smile soft as you gazed up at the boy. Eddie responded in kind, the tips of his ears turning pink and he tried to scowl at you, brows pinching together but he grinned like he couldn’t help it. “I would, if I knew it would work,” he smiled down at you, head tilted to the side all lazy. “You want some eggs? Or I could make you some pancakes?”
And before you could tell him that eggs were perfectly fine, Chrissy’s voice interrupted, she was pushing herself onto the table, leaning on her hands, cheeks coloured with a pretty pink blush and squished together. “Don’t tell me I leave for the summer and you’ve got another favourite waitress already,” she pouted, lips shiny and glassy and pink. “I thought I was your number one, Ed.”
Her words made you feel too warm. That rolling heat that creeped across your chest, your neck, your face. An awfully uncomfortable sensation, anxious, unsettled. You tried to laugh when she did, but the sound came out weak, stilted. Chrissy was looking at Eddie, confident, playful, so sure of herself.
She looked at him like she really knew him, like there was an inside joke that you didn’t know about.
You backed away, ignoring how Eddie’s hand tried to catch yours. “Uh, I’m actually not that hungry,” you smiled but it wavered. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “Thanks though. I’ll, um, I’ll catch up with you later. It was nice meeting you, Chrissy,” you nodded at her, hoping she didn’t see your glassy eyes before you turned and left them in the kitchen.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson au#linecook!eddie
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— telling him “i'm glad i didn‘t break up with you that one time”
including scaramouche, diluc, alhaitham, kaveh x gn! reader
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, a little sad (kaveh's part), we‘re so evil
— scaramouche
feathery, fluffy clouds breezily dotted the expanding sapphire blue sky as the incandescent radiant rays of eternal warmth— like fireballs, drifted across the sizzling nation of pristine wisdom.
scaramouche mellowly declined his head into your supple lap while you were indulging your trusted presence on a secluded area a bit away from sumeru city— his hair was deep tinged and glinted eminently, dark indigo locks that were lucently aglow from the smoldering sun riveting your frames.
you can still remember it vividly, the spellbound rays tottering down on your body as you nimbly closed your eyes for a second while carelessly scurrying your hand over his silky hair. It was rather comforting to him and you were aware that your boyfriend must've been immoderately drained from his taxing work load.
and by any means whatsoever, within the strong comfort of the fateful consolatory spot, a— you could say, brilliant yet a shade evil idea transited into the deepest edges of your psyche.
you pretended to listen to whatever scaramouche had to proudly talk about as your hand carried on to gladsomely delve further around his scalp, jovially motioning aimless symbols on his head.
his eyes wander shut at the closeness of you when he idly shifted the conversation into another topic, "this is fine." he speaks mousy— his breathing was fluttery and bounteous with love, yet although his voice was not lined out of lustrous silk, it did not trickle in an even consistent tone, you had treasured it nonetheless and his voice was your glaring favorite. "this— this feels fine."
that was it, the perfect timing, you suppress a devilish grin and got ready for your disguised scheme coming into wicked play, "it really is." you tried to respond in a false articulated stainless voice, "—and i'm so happy i didn't break up with you that one time."
bordering on a comical sight right under where your boyfriend was presently marveling on your lap, scaramouche had now instantly bolted up to meet your eyes in a part spread sight— but now something changed, an expression akin to filtered shock and discontent. "what?"
in all respects, he was done with his spoken words, because what made you want to break up with him in the first place? what instance in your past togetherness had been enforcing those negative, cruel emotions in you that you even thought about it?
it was a hurting, clear thought— additionally pestering him and it was more horrific than anything else pressuring his goddamn mind.
"what, what?" you silently ask beneath the lines of your regulated breathing, scaramouche never looked so lost before and you tightly bristled your lips together in an pursue to not blast your evil cover.
"what did you mean by that?" if he had to choose, scaramouche would rather have someone repeatedly run him over with a carriage than be in this clashing conversation, "you wanted to break up with me?"
to your appreciable surprise, he did not let his inner rage come to broad daylight, rather was he willing to figure out what has been going on that made you think that. Now, with the concern being all written across his pretty features, you felt as if you should come clean before he actually gets a heart attack from your wrongful play.
"tell me what i did, i will fix it—" the compression in his emotions had inflated as you snappily got a hold of his squishy cheeks, instantly cupping his face, "i'm so sorry, i'm messing with you." though you ended up awkwardly laughing with a sorrowful grin as to lighten up the damaged mood, scaramouche's mouthing took a turn— slightly dazed but also fed up, the penetrating gaze of him, previously a tone lower but now plumb with a diverting split on his lips.
"you.." the little mewl exposed more than a simple intrigue, "you will regret this." with an eye on him you leaned forward to kiss your boyfriend but scaramouche was one step ahead. He speedily took both of your wrists in his palm and dropped you on your back— making you lose stability of your body.
"oh, what's gotten into you?" he asks— innocently enough for you to believe it at first before he was puncturing specific places on your stomach, fronting matter to pinch and tickle the skin, "ah!" you cry out, whining at the burn, "i'm sorry i'm sorry!"
"don't do that anymore." scaramouche kept you on edge— exactly where he wanted you to be, "or i'll give you a taste of your own medicine."
— diluc
inside the limits of your prevailing ventures, you so happen to find yourself nonchalantly strolling over to your boyfriends tavern— the angels share, where he was, at this time, in the midst of closing the bar after another successful night.
in related manner was it a regular practice you'd follow closely, it being to do your utmost greatest to spend as much time as possible with your primarily preoccupied partner— granted that it was centrally you both walking home and then falling asleep shortly afterwards in your shared bed, though that alone made it worth it to you.
diluc found himself greatly engaged in properly cleaning up the bar counter and putting away a bottle of unused dandelion wine as you ardently knocked on the door with your signature thumps— so he knows it's you, before letting yourself pass through.
pristinely, diluc did not have to look up to see that it was you entering the bar— for one, as mentioned prior, was it the initial bangs on the large door the both of you had originally turned a habit as a humorous joke, as well as the recognized spreading presence of you being more than enough for him to figure it out.
he composes himself as his warm eyes then, without an ounce of wavering, flicker without delay to wholly greet you with his comforting calm manner, "you're early." he reminds you, thinking out loud, each new articulation of his being thoroughly tempted out in an urged chatter— it's noticeable, how unmistakable worn out he was.
"i told you i'd come visit before you're closing the tavern." you listlessly slant back on the barstool to take a convenient seat and you lively smile at him while diluc carried on to clean a couple of the utensils that had become irksome obstacles yet shyly quelling a spiking sneer in him, unreservedly molding himself into your homely aura, "i'm glad then."
in passing, you idly watched him for a brief while until diluc unexpectedly turned to you again, catching you off guard, "oh, i have something for you." he surprisingly hummed along each new syllable and you find yourself admiring the view in front of you, his face generously shading red, "i saw them and had to take it with me."
you recollect your focus on him when diluc spoke in a charming way that sent a beguiling spike through your pounding heart before you noticed something large in his hand; a bouquet of your most beloved flowers.
his posture stiffened a little— most likely because of a miniature impale of nervousness scurrying through his flaming veins, because what if you end up not liking the well scented, thoughtful gift?
though you had loved it, of course— even more than that and as he was eyeing your reaction up close, sensing how your widened eyes coursed brilliantly as you accepted the flowers in your hands, you gaze at him in a darting loving way, tightly squeezing the bouquet in your right arm to be able to give him a hug and express your utmost gratitude to him— for him, because he simply was the best in your eyes, the most attentive boyfriend to have ever existed.
"I do hope you fancy it." his rippling skin felt comforted back in your cosy cuddle with his large hand being closely pressed on your lower back as he made you turn on him closer. "i love it."
"— and I'm so grateful i didn't break up with you that one time."
well, just hold up a second? what.
"...umm, thanks." he earned yet another eruption of laughter from you though you had roughly closed it sunkenly in you, so diluc wouldn't figure out you're actually not being serious right now, at all.
diluc— though now greatly overwhelmed but rather leaning into a more confused state of mind in terms of your sudden exclaim, manages to huff out a low sigh while bringing his attention back to you, slowly drawing himself away from your close embrace.
for a fleeting spell, you both looked into each other's eyes boundlessly astounded and bowled over— stated in a more frequent type of way; it was in actuality diluc who was looking wholly rendered at loss of words when you tried your dearest to keep your wicked giggles in check.
but then, he talks again, although pumped full with overthrowing worry in his once glowing eyes, "I'm not certain on how to appropriately tackle this conversation." he mumbles while virtually thinking out loud, "can you perhaps tell me what i did wrong so i can get better— get better for you?"
quite frankly, you couldn't take it anymore and soon your whole body was filled with great misdeed, he may not have a clue right now but in total truth you were only trying to get a glimpse of a somewhat saddened reaction out of your boyfriend— which now, might've been a little evil, though, after all, you couldn't really pass up on that perfect presented opportunity.
"you did nothing." you squeal in panic, gently placing the flowers on the bar counter to keep your attention on him, "i'm sorry i was messing with you."
you pretty much fell into his arms and diluc instantly had hugged you right back— though still in shock, his eyes growing in the size of saucers. You lied close into his shoulder and tried to lift the mood with a humane touch of your hands on his back.
"you menace." diluc reveals an adorable sigh as his chest heaved up and down, the shock still lingering deep but a smile minimally lifted at his lips when he turned to hearteningly pant out a shaky heave into your arms. "you absolute menace."
— alhaitham
"and that’s correct." alhaitham kindly affirms towards the region of your direction while being patiently sat before your pretty eyes, fixedly gulping down the nascent saliva in his mouth to enunciate his following words, "—now to the next question."
undoubtably and much to your sweet pleasure, your boyfriend alhaitham took his current, new acquired position, awfully serious!
on the whole, he was an excellent tutor— strikingly perfect for your upcoming exam which had caused you a countless amount of sleepless nights, while he was aware of your struggles, he had put it upon himself to aid you as much as he was able to.
bizarrely to you, he was a bit too serious and stern, bound and determined while forgetting to keep it natural. Yet alhaitham understands and recognizes your strengths, turning it attainable to solicit 100% of your greatest strong point, presenting you with your highest amount of concentration to study.
"how does this look?" you ask, rather confident in your mannerism as you firmly shoved the fully scribbled paper into his close direction. He looks at it with hawk eyes and crinkles his brows a little— that being an usual trait whenever he found himself in large engrossment.
"incorrect but i didn't expect you to figure it out anyways."
unfortunately to you, alhaitham had a— let's say, interesting habit of spelling out his words before actually thinking his sentences through enough, or maybe he modestly didn't give a damn about how he was perceived or presented to the audience, didn't matter to him if the person he was talking to is a stranger or his significant other, you.
one quiet, internal thought ultimately, without sweet decorations, turned into two hellish thoughts and you had yourself wonder if you were even capable to pay him back just a little bit, in your usual, evil fashion.
"that's rude!" you falsely squeal out, fearing he may have a clue on your new doings right away as you dramatically drew your hand above your heart to act out a pain in your chest.
"you asked — i answered." you could clearly see he didn't think his wording was incorrect or maybe a minuscule portion grating, so you decided to sprinkle a little sass on him, "you're right and i'd be lost without you." your eyes innocently trail to his face, "i'm so grateful you're helping me study."
you were on the verge of exploding, really, the tempting laugh was overfilling your insides but you pushed through, ending your sentence at last, "— but i'm even more grateful to myself that i didn't break up with you that one time."
alhaitham quirks a brow but did not face you right away, did you want to argue with him? or were you trying to be funny again? because speaking from past lived occasions, he wasn't new to you pulling one of those particular intrigues at him.
well, then again, what if it wasn't a tasteless, blundering joke? what if, you were serious this time, honestly would he even blame you? after all, alhaitham knew himself better than anyone else did.
"so, a break up?" he leans back into his chair before crossing his arms around his body, slowly eyeing you from your eyes, to your collarbones and back again. "mhm." you agree with a hum, although both of you being sat, he was easily towering over you with his stance alone, only making you fuse further into yourself.
"and when?" in fact, he will not let this die down, he will manage to get everything he required out of you while barely leaving you to gasp for air.
you wonder if he had already figured it out (he did), your eyes skimming over the entire table to bring your heedfulness somewhere else. "umm, i don't know!" the comedic side of it all was extremely whimsical to your boyfriend— and his plan to lure you into where he wanted you to seem to succeed as well.
"look at me." that damned voice change, nothing that you cannot withstand, nothing but that precise grab his gravelly tone color had on you.
right there, you met his doubtless, assertive eyes, unshaken in his own views. alhaitham unhurriedly leans forward into the table while holding eye contact with you, you're watching him, waiting for chaos to unfold or him laughing at how silly it was for you to even try to fool him.
"maybe next time you get lucky." he quickly wipes his tongue over his mouth, "do you know that you're really bad at acting? it's rather comical watching you try."
heavily exhaling the stored air in your strained lungs, you, wholly fed up with him, rolled your eyes at your oh so confident boyfriend who just didn't know when to keep his mouth sealed tight, "oh shut up!"
— kaveh
love and enchantment, a formidable devotion for another, highly arising out of real personal ties and notable attraction.
for kaveh, those meanings were everything and all, the totality all at once.
beyond a trace of a single doubt, it was unmistakable visible on just how much immeasurable energy and serious effort your boyfriend put into having your blossoming relationship as uplifting, easing and heart warming as possible.
you're his absorbing soulmate and his riveting gratitude and love for you— which he most definitely conveys through those honeyed, dreamy smiles on his plump lips, were sticking out a mile.
from all accessible appearances, one might as well pick up on the nurturing connection that is shared by you lovebirds and how kaveh would always come up with newfound actions to have it shown to everyone in many different varieties.
tonight, it was outside of sumeru city— on top of a idyllic meadow, with the boundless sky being set ablaze by the setting sun right above you, soon to follow was the pale, ashen crescent turned moon, vividly luminous like a silvery claw and fuck, that glittering glow in your eyes as you watched from afar, kaveh wasn't sure if he could fall in love with you even deeper than he already was.
"this is so pretty." the fresh feeling of your body thoughtlessly sloping back into the consoling ground locked out each and every paining worry from your gladdening thoughts.
"i knew you'd like it, i just knew—." kaveh keeps himself from embarrassingly tumbling over his own spoken words, his nails now clawing into his palms and leaving marks— it might've been the nervousness, he fears, although you both had been together for a good while he can catch himself quite frequently becoming shy in his mannerism.
but his phraseology meant nothing, his passing wordage, blank.
there could be sure up to a million and one descriptions to intently describe this current moment happening yet nothing would ever explain it how he saw it, how he perceived you.
aside from that, you also breathed fresh life into his somewhat monotone one, with your sneaky intrigues keeping him on edge the whole time.
"this was a good idea." you're revealing a soft glare to him, a hidden one that from the outside, appeared to be angelic and endearing, though from the inside— salted away an evil plan that was camouflaging your entire mind for the whole day.
call it stowed up curiosity or simple boredom of your person, but you cannot keep yourself from passing up on it, longing to witness kaveh leaving his protective, calming bubble for once in a while.
sure, obviously, he could get mad at you, aggravated or purely stare at you through dead, saddened eyes, but then you'd always be there to make it up to him, in your own charming ways.
kaveh plushly lays on the warm ground before idly securing one of his hands under his head, uncaringly bolstering himself up, "this reminds me of something." you suddenly claim in the direction of your lover so he can hear you, no matter what, "of what?"
in the general run of things you couldn't help yourself but smile at how quick kaveh could get fascinated or absorbed on a random topic you unhurriedly throw into his course of line— no care in the world on what it was, but if you don't tell him and keep the desired answers away, he'd regularly think about it, day on day, until you do end up saying it out loud— which you then, do. "ah, it's nothing!"
"— i'm just glad i didn't break up with you that one time, you know?"
.. silence ..
"..."
"..."
"..."
"kaveh?"
"..."
you might enquire some sort of exclaim or wonder now, did he pass out or? no silly, of course not! it did feel like he was about to suffer from a large heart attack though.
"b-break up?" he soundlessly mutters, panic, immense panic, if he can afford to say anything coherent at all but he was as still as a mouse, indistinct, until ..
"as in, breaking up? a BREAK up?!"
"oh it's nothing." you hushedly wave your hand in front of his anxious face, without concern leaving yourself to fall back and carry on to glimpse up at the moonlight sky.
"what do you mean n o t h i n g?"
"this is tERRIBLE." - "utterly TERRIBLE." deficient panic pitifully munched on your boyfriends entire being, deeply festering itself into the pitched shadows of his now darkened heart.
"wait please stop." your words did not hit him, it's like he turned himself on autopilot, his eyes large as he looked into the distance, muttering something underneath his pebbly pants which you couldn't decipher what he was babbling over. "it's a joke, please look at me."
no because maybe you did go too far and after encircling your arms around kaveh's body you held him close to you, so the repeated knocks of your heart could be sensed by him.
"i'm sorry i will never do this again." you are met with his— now glassy laced, scarlet eyes, not once does he speak anymore, because quite frankly, for a second he was scared to his very core, in a frenzy, because life without you, is no life at all, no substantial vitality.
but then, a tone of him, irregular and broken, "don't do this." - "again."
you mildly wipe the warm tears off his face and lovingly keep a couple kisses on his forehead— left cheek, right cheek, his cute nose and ultimately finished your sweet attention on his soft lips— that always tasted like roses and felt so tender on top of yours, easily crawling yourself into his lap.
"i'm sorry, i love you and i'd never break up with you, ever."
©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#scaramouche x reader#alhaitham x reader#diluc x reader#kaveh x reader#al haitham x reader#genshin x you#genshin impact x you#genshin impact fluff#genshin fluff#alhaitham x you#kaveh x you#scaramouche x you#diluc x you#genshin impact headcanons#genshin drabbles#genshin headcanons#genshin x y/n#genshin impact fanfiction
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DC X DP Fic idea: Retired-Rouge.
Danny gets into making teddy bears. He didn't start that way; honestly, he was mostly trying to fix Bearbert Einstein after his mom accidentally burnt him with a misfired ray gun.
Jazz had broken down into tears, and it had ripped apart his heart and his core to see her so distressed. He went to the local- and only- fabric store in Amity Park to find materials and try to repair his sister's beloved teddy bear when his mom's attempts to fix the bear only made him look worse.
Just his luck that the only fabric shop for miles around was Weston Fabrics and that the person manning the cashier was Wes himself. The other boy had nearly thrown him out when Danny walked in, but thankfully his older brother Kyle had talked Wes down and helped Danny find fabrics for Bearbert.
Surprisingly, Wes had even helped him set up one of their sewing stations to get started on Bearbert.
The strange part was when Danny turned the machine on and found his hands moving independently. As if he had been doing it for years, he expertly put together the bear and even went through the other fabrics to make him new outfits. Wes had watched the whole time, raising a brow when Danny got up to pay.
"Thought you didn't know how to sew?"
"I thought so too. Must be a ghost thing." Danny replied then smirked as the redhead glared.
"A ghost thing?" Wes all but sneers. He still trying to expose Danny as Phantom and had yet to get proof, even with Danny teasing him in the open. As it were, Kyle, who was unpacking new needles rolled his eyes behind the red hair teenager.
"Yeah, since I have a protection core as Phantom, it sometimes transfers into my human side. Do you know how teddy bears guard children at night against bad dreams? Same thing"
Wes pauses, then slowly blinks; he whispers with a small baffled smile, "That's kind of adorable. A teddy bear to keep you safe through the night."
And Danny? He didn't mean to, but he found Wes sort of hot at that moment. Not the Wow, that guy is a celebrity hot but a Be careful who you call ugly in middle school because Puberty made them delicious over the summer break hot.
He will admit that he returned to Weston Fabrics to flirt more with Wes and made so many teddy bears as a disguise. The good news was that all his works were a hit, and even some kids at school started asking for special commissions when word got around about the special Nightmerica teddy bear he made for Sam's birthday.
He makes money, gets a boyfriend, and when he donates the teddy bears to a local hospital, he discovers a new power. Through items he made himself, Danny can send waves of comforting energy to the people around the item, like a miniature zen distributor. The patients that have his toys start to show greater rest from both nightmares and lower anxiety, depression, and general sadness.
He lets Wes name this power, which later becomes the name of his teddy bear business- Phantom Relief. After dating for two years and graduating, both boys agree the spark had been lost but remain good friends. Danny takes his thriving teddy bear-making skills to his new college in Gotham while Wes leaves for Star City.
In Gotham is where things get....stranger. See, Danny knows someone new to the city will never truly understand a city's problems. But the rapid amount of homeless kids is so shocking he starts making clothes and blankets to try and give them out because they shouldn't be out there freezing like that! He even tries passing along some teddy bears to them, hoping to soothe their pain with some Zen waves.
The key word is tries.
Gotham kids do not trust or like free handouts. Danny burst into tears when a thirteen-year-old asked if he wanted the kid to use his hand or mouth in exchange for the new blanket. The street kid seemed surprised when Danny was horrified by the question. No one else found it strange, the kid said, wrapped in a Superman blanket that Danny made only a day before, it's just how things are done around here.
The worst part is the homeless thirteen-year-old is right. Everywhere he looks, Danny finds more people needing protection- physically, emotionally, and mentally. Gotham is just filled with people suffering. He couldn't keep up. It's tearing him apart trying to help everyone.
His core feels like it will burst from all the overloaded cries of help it can pick up. One night Danny can't take it anymore, so he shifts into Phantom and flies out to the old Drake manner, abandoned since Janet Drake's murder, where the cries are muffled, and dials Wes' number with shaking hands.
His ex picks up listens to his sobs and tells him "You can't save people who don't want to be saved. But you can try to reach them in a way they understand."
It's precisely what he needs to hear.
Ancients, but he misses the man sometimes. Why did Danny ever let Wes Weston go? Well, as they say, Right person, wrong time. Maybe that was why.
So Danny decided the only way to get to Gotham was to be like Gotham. And who were the people that dramatically changed the city with every random plot? With every random heist?
Gotham Rogues.
So all Phantom had to do was become one, which shouldn't be too hard since people in Amity Park still debated if he was good or not years later. He fixes up his Phantom suit to something more Gotham villain, keeping the colors but removing the jumpsuit and adding a suit and vest alongside a mask and two giant needles.
He appears in Crime Alley- because that's where the most cries come from- and just challenges everything and everyone to take the area from him. He fights off so many gangs- even Red Hood, who puts up a great fight- but after the dust settles, he now runs the place.
He then starts- fixing the place. Starts sending out clothes for the homeless, starts fixing up buildings, gives Phantom Reflief out-teddy bears to kids, fake emulates to adults, starts sending the gang kids back to school, forces landlords to lower the housing, and illegally makes everyone get along.
He spreads his tyranny to the rest of the city, fighting the good and bad sides of the law. The bats give him one hell of a challenge, but Danny beat the Ghost King when he was an untrained brat. This is nothing. Batman gets better with every fight, and so do his associates.
Things look good until the Joker tries him too much when the clown somehow gets to Wes. Has the love of his life tied to a bomb with enough Joker Venom to fill half the city, and Danny sees red.
When he comes to, it's to Wes holding him in his arms, whispering reassurances, and Joker nothing but a smear on the ground. Danny can't live with what he's done; he runs away, shifts into his human side, and vows to never be Phantom again.
After four years of peace due to Phantom's hostile takeover, Gotham mourns the loss but doesn't fall into so much crime now that the ghost crime lord is gone. Danny thinks he's done his job and chooses to melt into the background. He opens a little shop for fabrics and custom-made teddy bears.
Wes finds him, agrees to try and rekindle their love, and a year later agrees to the marriage.
All is well until seventeen-year-old Tim Drake strolls into his fabric shop. Clutching a superboy teddy bear, he gave a shivering fourteen-year-old the first week as Phantom Gotham Villain with a stern look in his eye.
"Phantom- I need you to help me find Batman, who is lost in time, or I will expose your secret identity to the rest of Gotham."
Well, shit.
#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#Wes Weston/Danny Fenton#Tim Drake blackmails his way#Danny became a villain to illegally get people to get along.#He's retired now!#And gotham 's dangerous rate went down 60% thanks to his efforts#No the bats still don't know who he is besides Tim#Danny is too old for this shit
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Reasons ꙳ ੭ * ‧
synopsis: though he’s afraid to admit it, chan has an undeniably huge crush on you. in attempt to get his point somewhat across, he drops a few hints leading all the way up until the Valentine’s Day office party, but will that mean he finally confesses his true feelings?
genre: bang chan x fem!reader | coworkers to lovers wc: 3.1k tags/warnings: fluff, office romance, mild cursing, mentions of alcohol usage, kissing, reader is kinda obsessed w/ chan’s body but who tf isn’t ??
now playing 🎧: dream girl by crisaunt
[this is the first installment of my new valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding the themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]
If there’s one thing Chan could never refuse to resist no matter how hard he tries, it’s you — nothing else came near as close. You were his Kryptonite, Achille’s heel, whatever you want to call it. Chan was willing to do just about anything for you, ask him to jump and he’ll promptly answer “how high?” You had him wrapped around your little finger with a pristine, glittery brow. Some could say it was quite uncanny how he’d avidly jump at your every need and request. Whether it be from a small but adoring comment about the way you looked in your outfits or whenever he sees you struggling with something, he drops any amount of work he was doing to go help you instead. There’s no way he was doing all this just out of the kindness of his heart, everyone saw right through those tactics. Clearly there was an underlying ulterior motive in the back of his mind, and most people with a brain knew of this as fact not fiction.
Everyone that is, except you.
The minute someone brings Chan’s name up you get super defensive. You often feel the need to because of how almost every person in the office ships you two together. One of the main instigators— Mirae, your cubicle neighbor and karaoke buddy, had a habit of doing this constantly. She’s the first ever friend you made here and is a total ray of sunshine to work with, but also has the biggest mouth. She’d go around telling people that Chan has a crush on you all because he does so many selfless gestures to “impress” you. Once that got around , rumors began spreading like wildfire and suddenly it turned into you and Chan were dating.
As soon as you heard all of that you immediately shut the suspicions down, explaining that you two were simply just friends and how he’s a sweet, gentle soul. Which he most certainly is but his friendliness didn’t only stop at you, it extended to all the other employees as well. He’s the type of person who would make sure everyone else has food and a warm shelter before worrying about himself in the freezing cold. There aren’t many out there with a noble personality like Chan’s, he’s like an elderly man trapped in a young person’s body, always giving the most wise and stark advice. His way of thinking may be a little old fashioned but that didn’t make him boring by any means, he was quite fun when he wasn’t so immersed in his work.
You’ve tried to get him to let loose a bit more, even invited him out for drinks after work with your other coworkers but he declined each time. It never felt like rejection to you though, he’d be smiling the whole time he’s saying “no” but it didn’t seem disingenuous. The only reason he never took up any of your offers were either one of 3 things:
A). He’s far too nervous to get drinks with you
B). He’s too buried in his work
C). The gym is his second home
You and Chan are two vastly different people. He’s definitely the more laidback type who likes to stay at home while you love to going out and enjoy a fun night on the town with friends. Despite him knowing this, he’s never been one to judge your choices or care about what you decide to do outside of work. He even brings you hangover medicine when you come back on Monday looking like you’ve had way too many last weekend — a literal angel in human form. You wonder who the lucky lady will be that gets to marry him someday, it’s evident he’ll be a family man and would most certainly be the best dad any child could ask for. He truly possessed every lovely quality there is all in one person, a rarity that’s more hard to come by each passing day. You don’t know what you could’ve done in your past life to deserve to know someone like Chan, but you don’t regret it one bit.
This morning went like any other typical morning, you’d come to work slightly exhausted from being out later than expected. Usually, Chan would go up to your cubicle and flash a doting smile at you as he places a fresh cup of coffee on your desk. It’s always the little things that made you most content, a handsome guy delivering you your favorite cappuccino — sounds like the ideal life. However, things were slightly different on this particular morning.
Awaiting you at your desk was a large bouquet of flowers displayed in a decorative ceramic vase, accompanied by your warm beverage. You also notice something peeking out from the petals, a small white envelope without a name on it. Curiosity gets the best of you, rushing to open it and read what follows:
‘happy Valentine’s Day ___, these flowers will never be as gorgeous as you but I hope they bring you joy or at least make you half as happy as you make me everyday that I’m with you.
- CB.’
Well, you definitely weren’t expecting that note to be so… sweet ? Though it was a bit short, the message was clear, whoever wrote that really wants you to know exactly how they feel. You had to admit, reading that did make your heart skip a little— maybe even had you blushing and twirling a couple strands of hair. What caught you most off guard were the initials, ‘CB’, those letters seemed awfully familiar. Then you realize there’s only one person whose initials you personally knew that could match those; your coworker Chan. Your throat goes dry as you nervously attempt to swallow, unable to form any stable or coherent thoughts. Nothing, and you mean absolutely nothing, could’ve prepared you for this kind of revelation.
Scoping out the area to see if Chan was around, you couldn’t seem to find him anywhere. You consider the idea of texting him but ultimately you decide not to as you think it’d be weird to assume he even did this. They’re just similar initials that’s it, you’re probably reading too much into it. Maybe you really are going crazy or something.
“Oh my god, someone sent you those?!” A chirpy voice startles you, instantly recognizing it as Mirae who’s now behind you.
“Uh, yeah I guess so..” you acknowledge nonchalantly. Parting your lips just a tad as you take a sip of delicious espresso.
“Ah. I wonder who could’ve done it?” She fake pauses to take a gander at the possibilities, “It’s definitely not the guy with the Aussie accent and name rhymes with Pan!”
You almost spit out your drink. “Shut up!”
“Oh you know I’ll never do that sweetie.” She giggles at you being all flustered, “plus I’m right you just don’t wanna admit it.”
This is like an everyday conversation you have with her, it’s nothing new. “No, I’m a logical person and I know that me and Chan are just friends. That’s all we’ll ever be and nothing more!”
It’s exhausting having to keep defending yourself from the same rhetoric all your coworkers spew daily, and even more ridiculous how fast word gets out around here. Those rumors of you and Chan dating are still being told today, even after it’s been a good year and a half since it all started.
“Friends can also develop feelings for each other overtime y’know?” Mirae lazily rests her arm on your desk as she continues her speech, “I mean I’ve never fallen for a friend so I wouldn’t know.. but this is different! Do you not pay any attention at all to the way he treats you? He’s such a simp for you it drives me insane.”
Confused more than ever, you blankly stare back at her, “huh?” You just took every favor Chan has done as being a nice, thoughtful coworker.
“Okay I’ll give you an example, remember when everyone at lunch had that whole ‘Vernon is gay or bi debate’ and Chan agreed with every single thing you said even if it didn’t make sense? If that doesn’t scream simp behavior then I don’t know what does!”
Your doubt still doesn’t waver, “I just have a very compelling way of getting people to side with me!”
Mirae rolls her eyes so hard they could go to the back of her skull. “For the love of God ___, stop acting so dense at the obvious. It’s pretty much known in this entire office that Chan’s always been totally, 100% into you.”
“It is?” You blink rapidly.
“Yes! I can’t believe you’re even still shocked about this, the guy’s constantly making cartoon heart eyes whenever he sees you!” She states, voice laced with a dash of envy as she pouts, “I wish I had someone who looked at me like that.”
Her sadness is short lived when her face animates again, as if a light bulb just went off in her brain. “Wait I have the perfect idea, you should get him to ask you out at the Valentine’s party!”
“Um.. I don’t think he’ll go, he’s not a party kinda guy remember?” You sigh in reluctance, unsure of what to think at this point.
That doesn’t seem to bring Mirae’s mood down, she only reassures you with more positivity. “Trust me, he’ll be changing a completely different tune once he finds out you’re going.”
Work events are always somewhat a bit of a drag. You didn’t particularly care for them, but you do like socializing with most of your coworkers and other fellow staff on the team. The free alcohol is also another great selling point for you to go. Gina makes the best Jell-O shots and whenever there’s a work function going on she goes all out to prepare them. This time she made some strawberry daiquiri flavored ones, topped with a dollop of whipped cream and pink heart sprinkles to fit the theme.
You grabbed one immediately from the table, looking everywhere to see if you can spot Chan but still no luck. The fact this is making you slightly upset is beyond you, but you’ve never been one to fully understand your emotions. Maybe you were right after all for thinking he wouldn’t show up. Sometimes Mirae can try a bit too hard at getting your hopes up, but you had to figure out if he was the one who actually sent the flowers or not. ‘Who the fuck else could be CB?’ You thought, it had to be him, if not you’ll be blaming Mirae for years of mental damage and distress.
This job wasn’t the first thing you had in mind by any means, but it seemed like a friendly and open work environment when you came in for an interview. You ran into Chan that same day and he started talking to you in the lobby as you waited for your turn. He had the most illuminating, pearly white smile and his accent made the most mundane words sound a thousand times hotter. You secretly hoped you’d get this job just so you can talk to Chan all day. Fast forward to almost a year and a half later you’re now closer than ever and it feels like a privilege to work with someone as amazing as him.
As you finish your Jell-O shot, you try finding the nearest trash can but end up bumping into Gina. “Hey ___! Did you like the strawberry daiquiris I made?” She kindly surveys for feedback, flashing a cute puppy dog look at you.
“Duh, of course! I love everything you make Gigi, I might have to grab another one before they’re all gone!” You praise her kindly, “by the way have you seen Chan at all?” It was a bit a random of you to ask but you couldn’t just stand around and wait for him to magically show up.
Gina thinks for a moment and finally replies, “Nah I haven’t! Why’d you ask though?”
“Oh no reason really! Was just wondering I guess-” you awkwardly shrug off, taking a step back as you walk out the break room to go into the main hallway. Heading over to the water dispenser you grab a small paper cup and bring it under the cold water option, before pressing the button a deep voice causes you to freeze in place. Recognizing that raspy voice from anywhere, it was Chan calling out after you.
“Hey, ___!” You hear him shout from a distance, jogging towards you with an ambiguous look on his face. “Could I talk to you for a moment?” He asks once he gets closer, chest slowly rising up through his white collared shirt as he’s catching his breath.
You never really took note how chiseled his body looked, maybe it was the form-fitting material of the shirt but the outline of his pecs went perfectly in sync with the way his toned arms clung to the fabric. It was clear as day Chan takes working out very seriously, mesmerized by the sheer dedication it must’ve took to even achieve a dreamlike physique such as this. Realizing you still haven’t answered yet and have just been staring at this man’s chest for what seemed like centuries, you finally croak out a response.
“Uh, yeah- sure!”
He clears his throat in preparation, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.. for a while now actually.”
Chan doesn’t seem like his usual keen self, he’s acting much more quiet and reserved, as if he’s got loads of worries on his mind. It makes you wonder…
Your heart began to race at a faster pace, not knowing what the outcome will be, you indulge in him anyway. “Hm? What is it? Don’t just leave me hanging, spill!”
Again he goes quiet, like there’s a force holding him back from saying what he truly wants. He’s usually a lot more confident and well spoken when he talks to you but this was a new side of Chan you haven’t seen before. You find it a bit endearing to be honest, it makes him more down to earth. What’s there not to like about him truthfully?
“Well uh.. you see I-”
“___! Where the heck were you we’re about to take another sho-” Mirae catches you two of you off guard, unknowingly walking in what seemed like a deep conversation. “Ohh, oopsies did I interrupt something? I didn’t mean to, s-sorry!” You noticed some of her words slurring a bit and couldn’t contain a tiny giggle, it didn’t take much alcohol for her to get tipsy.
The minute she’s gone and the two of you are alone once again, the energy shifts dramatically. You gaze up at Chan to see his brows slanted into a train of thought. He wasn’t saying anything, just staring right back at you with a cryptic look. Unable to gauge the direction of this situation, you think of what to possibly say to make it less cumbersome. Before you could utter a single word, he finally speaks up.
“Let’s get outta here,” He quickly suggests, yanking your hand as he roughly takes it in his palm to lead the way. His movements are swift and eager, knowing exactly where he’s going as you’re left with even more questions and zero answers.
“Where’re we going?” You sheepishly inquire, bewildered by his sudden unpredictable action.
He doesn’t answer you. Instead he’s continuing the journey, remaining in focus all the way until he reaches the back entrance. Opening the door in a hurry to make it outside, a rush of cool air hits the back of your skin from a tiny bit of flesh being exposed. Chan brings his hands up to your arms, pinning them to your sides as he pushes you back against the brick wall of the building. His hooded eyes were fixated on you like an animal looking at its prey. It almost felt intimidating, as if he was the whole universe and you were but a mere spectacle compared to him.
“Wait what’re you do-” you’re impatiently cut off as he leans in, pupils widening when you’re abruptly met with a pair of lips pressed against your own. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, rendered still from the shock of this suddenly happening. An array of goosebumps scatter your suspended body, words can’t describe the way you feel in this moment— it’s pure bliss.
Eventually you do kiss him back once the shock wears off, parting your lips more to let him gain further access into your world. It was the most mind numbingly passionate, messy kiss you’ve ever experienced in a lifetime, wanting but Chan’s lips on yours forever and ever.
As you both pull away it’s quiet again, but not in an unpleasant manner as before. Now you’re silent because you’re admiring each other. Resisting the urge to grab his face and kiss him again, you watch intently at him biting on his bottom lip, giving you a sheer look of adoration and hunger. Your mind was in the highest state of euphoria, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. That kiss left you speechless, breathless, weightless, and all other adjectives in between.
“I can sit here and list off every reason why I’m in love with you, but I thought about it and figured this should be good enough to get my point across.” Chan suddenly expresses his true feelings while holding your hand tightly in his grasp. It feels like he can breathe again, as if a heavy weights been lifted off his broad shoulders. “Did you like the flowers I sent?”
You owe Mirae a huge apology the next time you see her.
“So it was you?!” A gasp escapes your lips, finally comprehending the fact that he’s genuinely liked you for this long. It still felt surreal to you that you even kissed.
“You didn’t realize it right away? I mean my initials were right there..” he nervously spoke once more. The effect you have on him is so dangerously good.
It’s hard to believe you were so oblivious to how Chan felt when it was all hidden in plain sight. You should’ve known something was up when he started learning how to cook the first week you met. During lunch you expressed that men who could cook were the ideal type of husband and since then he’s been on a mission to perfect his cooking and make you a proud wife someday.
Moral of the story? Life works in mysterious ways when finding your soulmate. The external forces come together to align themselves perfectly in harmony, bringing two beautiful souls to connect as one.
[End <3].
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Okay, writing prompt if you're interested. LuciferXreader, making out in a pile of rubber ducks. It may be weird as hell, but also really cute and funny. AND!! Laughter is a healthy part of any relationship!
Yes I’m interested!!!!!!!!!
I hope this is what you’re after, it kind of got away from me and I spent way too long thinking about what all those little duckies could do.
Lucifer had a problem, one of his own making that was yellow and sometimes quacked, maybe barked, there was even ones that spoke backwards and in riddles. They came in all kinds of colours and did all sorts of things. He had a purple one that could teleport, a rainbow one that shot confetti out of its mouth when it was squeezed, he even had one that glowed in the dark and played lullaby’s. The point was that Lucifer had made a lot of rubber duckies over the years but he didn’t realise quite how many until he was looking for one specific duck.
“Where are you, you little piece of…” Lucifer grumbled, his words trailing off as he dived into another mountain of ducks, sending them tumbling down to join the rest that had spilled over the floor. He had been at this for a while now, sending his work room into chaos and all because Charlie had been telling Vaggie all about one she had seen him making when she was a child. She hadn’t asked him for it and Lucifer had honestly forgotten it existed until she had brought it up but she seemed so enamoured with it that Lucifer had decided there and then that he had to gift it to her as a reminder of happier times in her childhood. The only problem was that he couldn’t find the damned thing and he was quickly running out of patience.
“You alright there love?” Lucifers head jerks up and round at your amused voice, blinking dumbly at the sudden brightness of the room. Your leant against the door frame, eyebrows furrowed slightly but a teasing smile tugging up the corners of your mouth. You were a vision, a ray of sunshine through the grey cloud that had been steadily forming over him. “Yep! Everything’s fine. Hahaha. A oh kay. What erh, what are you doing here darling?” Lucifer laughed nervously, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment at being found in such a state.
He had abandoned his hat and jacket ages ago, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows and his gloves somewhere within the sea of ducks. Lucifer had unbuttoned his collar at some point, his bow tie pulled loose and hanging around his neck like a sad flat little snake. His face must be flushed by now and his hair that was once neat and styled probably looked more like a birds nest now, stick up in every direction and clinging to his forehead.
“Charlie called me. Seems someone has been ignoring her calls and texts for the past couple of hours and she wanted me to check in and make sure they hadn’t gotten so involved in a project they forgot to eat again. Clearly she was right to worry.” You gave him a pointed look, clearly expecting an answer for his current predicament. Bitting his lip Lucifer let his eyes sweep across the carnage that was his work room and the vast amount of ducks he still had to get through. He needed help or he was never going to get through all these, not any time soon anyway and who better to help him than you? He always wanted to spend more time with you and this would keep you in close proximity for quite some time. It was a win win in his books and he was damn sure going to take full advantage of it.
Groaning Lucifer let his shoulders slump and looked back to you, finding you in the exact same position you had been in before though your eyes had softened slightly now, worry starting to creep in at the edges. “I’m looking for a duck,” he stated, nodding slightly after he had spoken like it was that simple of an answer. “Oh really? Never would have guessed.” Lucifer glared at your sarcastic reply, huffing loudly and crossing his arms over his chest in an overly obvious display of indignation that you both knew was just for show. The gentle laughter his behaviour got him sounded sweet, even as you rolled your eyes and pushed away from the doorframe. He always liked the sound of your laughter, like music that soothed his soul and made his heart ache all at once.
“Alright your majesty, are we looking for one in particular or is this a know it when a see it situation?” You raised an eyebrow at him in question as you sank down onto one of the few spots of clear floor. “It’s made of crystal, has a really cute teeny tiny crown on its head.” You hummed at Lucifers words, your attention now firmly on the ducks that surrounded you. “And when did you last see it?” Lucifer winced at your question, tugging at his already loose collar and refusing to make eye contact with you when you glance in his direction. “I don’t know, maybe a couple of centuries ago. Charlie was about five or six at the time.” You made a weird choked off noise when he said centuries, Lucifer catching a glimpse of your hand slipping on the pile of ducks you had been looking at and sending a couple more tumbling to join the ones that Lucifer was already half buried under.
He offered you an apologetic smile and hopefully his best puppy dog eyes in an attempt to soften any sort of regret you might be feeling at having sat down to help him. It must have worked because you sighed heavily before rolling your shoulders back and sitting up straighter. “It’s fine, we’ll find it and when we do you are sooo going to make it up to me with back rubs and kisses.” Lucifer agreed readily, nodding his head and promising you that and a thousand things more. “Right! We are going to do this one duck at a time, sorting as we go. We will have four separate piles, one pile for the ones that are just rubber ducks with a unique paint job and another for the ones that do something useful.” Lucifer opens his mouth to protest because all his duckies are useful but a quick glance from you has him closing it before he can even get a sound out. “There will also be a pile for ones that do pointless things and another for the ones that are just plain dangerous.”
“They are not dangerous!” Lucifer insisted, snatching up a random duck and squeezing it to prove his point. There was a loud click followed by sound of metal grinding together and Lucifer looked down in horror as the barrel of a pistol slid out of the ducks now open mouth. “Hahaha, how did that get there?” Huffing you held your hand out expectantly and Lucifer reluctantly handed the traitorous thing over, making sure the postal was safely back in place first. Without a word you leant over and pushed a section of the ducks out of the way, clearing a patch on floor in front of you. The gun toting duck was place down gently, looking way too sweet and innocent for what it hid within.
You picked up one from next to you and held it out towards Lucifer. “What does this one do?” He squinted at the thing, turning his head slightly to the side as he tried to remember what this one did. It was yellow like most of them except this one had a red rimed beak that made it look like it had lipstick on. “Lipstick!” Lucifer shouted out triumphantly, his sudden outburst causing you to startle. “It’s lipstick, retro rouge if I’m not mistaken.” You turned the duck toward you, tilting your head quizzically as you squeezed at its sides. It’s beak parted as a stick of bright red lipstick emerged. “Huh,” you said, loosening your grip on the duck so the lipstick went back in before placing it on the floor a few inches away from the other duck. You picked up another, this one yellow with black spots and held it out towards him. “What about this one?”
This goes in for hours, one duck after another and though it would normally be a rather tedious Lucifer is having fun. Some of his duck creations really are bizarre, like the one that changes colour depending on the time of day in Hawaii or the one that screams whenever someone says pineapple. There are some good ones though, like the one that generates a personal forcefield that’s lasts up to an hour when placed on your head or the one that cleans your bath after you’ve used it. The useful pile was a lot smaller than the others though, the useless ones needing a whole corner of the room to themselves. You had even found one that said ‘I’m quackers about you’ in a squeaky voice when squeezed, a little heart shaped box of chocolates with Lucifers hat emblazoned on the front held between its wings.
Lucifer had refused to hand that one over, especially when he realised you intended to put it in the useless pile. A had sat there, cooing at the thing and stroking its head whilst you glared at him. So preoccupied with the duck Lucifer didn’t have time to prepare himself as you suddenly lunged across the space, hands grabbing for the sweet little ducky. The two of you had spent far too long rolling around the floor and tussling for the duck until finally you came to a stop, sprawled across Lucifer and the both of you breathing heavily. You were close, head hovering above his as you stared into one another’s eyes. All Lucifer would need to do is tip his head back and then he would be able to kiss you, one of his favourite things to do these days. His eyes dropped to your lips as your tongue snuck out to wet them, your teeth nipping at your bottom lip enticingly. Lucifer sucked in a deep breath, his hand flexing on your waist where it had ended up in your little play fight. Your head lowered slightly, eyes darting down to his lips then back to his eyes as if asking permission that you really didn’t need. From down by his hip there came a loud quack followed by ‘I’m quackers about you’ then another quack effectively bringing a sudden end to the tension growing between the two of you.
The two of you dissolved into laughter, Lucifer wrapping his arms around your middle as you buried your face in his neck. You lead there for a while, laughing softly until that trailed off and the two of you when just lead there, holding one another and surrounded by ducks. It had been nice if a little weird but Lucifer wasn’t complaining. “It’s true you know,” he said softly, not wanting to ruin the moment but his words had you shifting, pushing yourself up slightly so you could look down at him with confusion. “What is?” Your voice was just as soft as you spoke, the hushed tone adding to the intimacy of the moment. Sighing Lucifer reached up, cupping your check and rubbing his thumb gently across it. “I really and quackers about you,” he deadpanned.
The stunned silence that hangs between you goes on a lot longer than Lucifer thought it would and despite how hard he tries he can’t help the large smile that spreads across his face or the laugher that comes bubbling out. Groaning loudly you finished pushing yourself up into a sitting position, shoving Lucifer back down when he tried to follow. “You’re terrible,”you mumble, shifting back over slightly to avoid nocking into a stack of ducks. Lucifers still chucking when he sits back up, effortlessly catching the rubber duck you half heartedly throw at him. “Mmmm, and yet you still love me.” Lucifer wiggled an eyebrow at you, leaning in slightly to emphasise the ridiculousness of the gesture. This time it was you who couldn’t help but smile, huffing in amusement and shaking your head at him. “Yeah, I do.” Lucifer beamed like the cat who go the cream at your words, always feeling like his heart could take flight every time you told him you loved him. Truly a bizarre phenomenon that would need much more research done into it, requiring you to tell him often and in multiple ways how you felt about him. “Now come on, this bloody duck isn’t going to find its self.” Lucifer took the duck you held out to him, a hot pink one with a flame branded on its chest, and quickly lent forward to place a kiss on the back of your hand before he started telling you all about the duck and how it could be set on fire and wouldn’t melt.
That had been a good few hours ago though and night had settled heavy over the city since then. Over half the room had been cleared now, Lucifer having opened a portal and dumped all the colourful, boringly normal ducks onto a sleeping radio demon to create some extra space for you both. There was still no sign of the duck he was after though and the both of you were clearly tired, the process having slowed down considerably in the last half an hour or so. He’s beginning to think it’s a lost cause, the duck long since lost or broken.
You yawn loudly, arms stretching out above you before you fall back into the heap of ducks behind you. The groan you make sounds almost painful as you wiggle in an attempt to make yourself more comfortable amongst the ducks. Your eyes close, hands disappearing into the sea of yellow above you. Despite how horribly uncomfortable it must be you look content and Lucifer wants nothing more in that moment than to crawl over there and join you, curling up against your side and resting his head on your chest so you can both get some much needed sleep. As much as he wanted to give into temptation Lucifer was determined to find the duck for Charlie, fixated on giving her that little moment of happiness and wonder that had stayed with her since childhood. That didn’t mean you had to suffer with him though.
“I think it’s time you were getting to bed darling, I can finish up in here.” Your eyes open slightly at his words, brows furrowed and your smile slipping into a frown. “Lucifer.” There was an odd tone to your voice, one that he probably should have paid more attention to but Lucifer assumed he knew what you were going to say so he kept on talking, turning away from you to continue looking through the ducks as he did so. “I know. I should be trying to get some sleep as well but you know I won’t be able to, (Lucifer), not till I’ve found this duck anyway and I really just want to surprise Charlie with it. She seemed so happy when she was talking to Vaggie about it and I just wanted to, (LUCIFER!)” Your loud cry of his name had Lucifer jumping, dropping the duck he had been holding to the floor with a loud splat as it oozed out like a marshmallow melting in the sun.
Laughing nervously Lucifer turns back to you, an apology already on the tip of his tongue but it quickly disappears when he sees what you’re holding. You’ve sat up, eyes fixed on your hand that you’re holding out towards him. In your palm sits a crystal duck, a small black crown sat atop its head styled similarly to Charlie’s own. Lucifer sucked in a breath, reaching out to take the thing from you with trembling fingers. He can’t believe you had found it, just when he was starting to lose hope. You truly must be heaven sent.
Without warning Lucifer lunged at you, flinging his arms around your neck and sending you sprawling back into the ducks with a yelp. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” Lucifer said between peppering your face with kisses. “Lucifer,” you laugh, turning your head to the side and giving him access to your neck. He places a few more quick pecks along your neck and the top of your shoulder before placing one final one on your lips.
“She’s going to be so surprised,” Lucifer beamed, pushing himself back up and turning towards the door, a wide smile on his face as he stared down at the crystal duck clutched in his hand. He didn’t get more than two steps towards the door before fingers wrapped around his wrist and stopped him in his tracks. Frowning Lucifer looked back over his shoulder at you, finding you looking at him just as confused as he was you. “Where are you going?” Lucifer blinked down at you dumbly because surely that was obvious? “To give Charlie the duck?” It came out slow and sounding more like a question, Lucifer even holding up the duck in case you had forgotten.
Your confusion smoothed out into understanding, a small smile curling up the corner of your lips. “Lucifer,” you said almost teasingly, tugging gently on his wrist until he turned to face you fully. “It’s the middle of the night love. She’s going to be asleep, and even if she isn’t she’s probably going to be doing something she doesn’t want her dad walking in on.” You look at him pointedly, waiting for your words to sink in. “Oh…ohhhh,” lucifers eyes went wide, looking down at the little duck in a mix of horror and embarrassment.
You chuckle gently, tugging on his arm and causing him to take a step towards you. “So why don’t you,” you plucked the duck from his hand, leaning back to place it on top of the coffee table before turning back to him and wrapping your hands around his wrists, “come back here and finish giving me my reward hum?” You tugged him forward and down, Lucifer’s knees hitting the floor on either side of your waist with a dull thud. You used your hold on his wrists to lift his hands and place them on your shoulders before gripping his waist and pulling him down and closer until he was sat in your lap. Lucifer blushed, licking at his lips and swallowing slightly. “I eh, I can do that.” You hummed at his words, lifting one hand to cup his cheek and guiding his lips down to yours.
The first few kisses were soft and slow, Lucifer humming gently at the addictive feel of your lips moving against his. He sank into you, getting more comfortable on your lap and letting his arms drape over your shoulders. The two of you stayed like that for a few long minutes, Lucifer content to spend hours just like that but it seemed you had other ideas. Pulling back you nipped gently at his lip, Lucifer letting out a little whimper at the sudden sting. Resting your forehead against his you slid both your hands up his back, pressing him as close to you as he could get. “Hold on tight,” you mumbled, placing a kiss against his lips.
Lucifer barely had time to register what you had said before you were moving, effortlessly tipping him to the side and rolling him onto his back. He landed within the ducks with a dull thud, several of the stupid things tumbling down to land on his face. Your laughter was sweet as you helped remove the offending ducks off his face, leaving the ones that had fallen around his head and shoulders. “There you are handsome,” you smile as you remove the last one from his head, clearly delighting in the bush your words get you. “Your erh, looking rather radiant as well.” Lucifer cringes at his own awkward attempts at flirting, refusing to look at you because of how awfully that was. You would think he would have gotten better at this sort of thing over the centuries but there was something about you that just left him flustered and unable to say what he means when in your company. When you’re not around he can wax poetry about how your smile lights up the world like a sunbeam or how your eyes sparkle like the stars, but now? With you looking down at him like he’s your whole universe? Not happening.
You shift to the side slightly, slotting one of your legs between his and pressing up against him. “Only when you’re the one looking,” you whisper before pressing your lips against his, using his startled gasp as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. Lucifer moans softly, wrapping his arms around your neck and pulling you in closer. There’s a duck digging into his back and the sound of muffled quacking coming from somewhere above him as their movements caused another wave of ducks to fall down in them. It was ridiculous, kissing in a pile of ducks that were threatening to swallow the two of you up but Lucifer found he didn’t really care, especially when your tongue swiped across his lips, seeking permission that he readily gave. This here, this was the closest to heaven he had felt in eons and he was content to stay in this moment for eternity. Well at least till Charlie woke up anyway.
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Morning Kisses
Max Verstappen x Reader
Genre: Spicy fluff
Summary: Max can't help but worship the girl wrapped in his arms the second he wakes up
Warnings: sleepy make out, implied smut, praise, body worship, Max being a simp
Notes: request for @ashiekins I hope you like it! This one made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Side Note: This is to make up for my crimes yesterday... I hope I've redeemed myself!
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
The morning rays of Monaco shine through the small openings that the curtains don't cover. The quiet hum of the city waking can be heard outside the apartment. The soft lapping of waves mingling with the buzz causes Max to forget this isn't a dream.
The girl in his arms is still breathing evenly. Her hair cast over her face, obscuring Max's view of her. He slowly moves his arm up to move the stray pieces away. The light hitting her skin gives her an ethereal glow that he can't get enough of.
Max could die a happy man in this moment. The definition of beauty and perfection is sharing his bed. Though, she would beg to differ. The insecurity the world has placed on her has made Max's compliments seem to bounce off a bullet proof vest.
His lips find their way to her shoulder. The spot left unmarked from their activities the previous night tempts him. He'd hate to disturb her sleep, but-
The intrusive thought gets the better of him as he sucks her skin between his teeth. She sighs in content, pulling his arms ever closer to her. "You could just ask, you know."
"Where is the fun in that?"
She turns to face him. Max loses himself in her beauty. His mouth hangs open like he's a teenage boy again; like it's his first time seeing her like this despite it being the thousandth.
"What's got you in shock this early?" She chuckles at his childish expression.
"I have the most beautiful goddess of a woman in my bed. Am I not allowed to gawk?" Max nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck. The stubble of his chin tickles her skin and causes her to giggle.
She pulls away, but only a little. His face now cupped in her hands. Max is only a man - a weak one, at that. Her lips are too tempting. How could he deny himself the pleasure of kissing her?
His lips meet hers in the gentlest way possible. He'd hate to ruin this intimate moment with the clashing of teeth.
Her body melts against his as their lips move in sync. It's magical, the way the mold to each other. A dance they know by heart, yet every time feels like the first.
He playfully smiles against her lips. Dumbfounded that this is his life; that he managed to find someone he loves with all his heart and soul. The fingers that trail against the canvas of her body make her hum against him.
His palm comes to rest against her chest. The feel of her heartbeat, one that beats in tandem with his own, causes his own mind to blank. It's a soft, calm, and steady beat that lulls him into an even more relaxed state.
Max would spend his entire life worshipping her body. The one sculpted by Greek gods and blessed with the personality that makes him fall to his knees every time she speaks.
Max trails kisses everywhere he can reach without moving too much. An attempt to bless his lips with feeling every inch of her skin. Something he'll do for as long as she lets him.
When his eyes finally meet hers again, she's staring at him with adoration. The infinite and undeniable love she holds for him shown in her eyes.
"You are truly the love of my life, Max Emilian."
"And I will spend eternity showing you that I am worth of your affections."
It's her turn to smirk at him. "Maybe eternity should start now, then?"
Max chuckles and puts himself to work. The two descend into the mess of sheets and giggle with giddy feelings as the pickup where they left off the previous night.
If this is Max's eternity, if his forever gets to be with her, he'll never ask for anything else.
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"can i help you with something?" you ask sun in muffled amusement one day, eyes glued to the tablet in your hands. the last kid at the daycare had finally been picked up, leaving you to do your end-of-day inventory check in preparation for tomorrow.
"hm?" sun feigns ignorance, lanky body casting your own in his shadow as he hovers over you at your side. "with what?" a tone of innocence lines his voice, but you know he is anything but.
you look up to give him a deadpanned stare, metallic fingers pinching gently at your cheek and pulling slightly in a way that makes your mouth stretch. "oh, i don't know," you start in a lighthearted manner, "do you need your fingers oiled again?"
sun tugs at your cheek a bit harder and you swat at his arm, but he doesn't relent. "mmmmnope! joints are in tip-top shape!"
"well can you stop pinching my cheek?" you roll your eyes and are forced to lower your tablet when his other hand comes up to pinch and pull at your other cheek, too. it makes him crowd further into your space, his lithe form moving to cover your front as his head bends over your significantly smaller body.
sun only hums again and you're forced to adhere to his whims for the time being. you know you won't be able to pry him away, robot strength be damned. "i can't help it! you're so... squishy."
"well, yes." you snort to yourself and squint your eyes closed as he pulls at your skin as though it's made of playdough. spoiler alert, it's not. "human being, remember? not durable robot?" you emphasize the word in an attempt to get him to stop, but he ignores it. you huff, and when you feel your cheeks start to ache from his ministrations, you complain. "sun, c'mon, you're acting like my grandma at holidays. stop it."
sun lets out a little click that makes you peek up at him through your eyelashes. his head has tilted to the right, and a twitch of his smile is all the warning you get before he forces himself further into your personal space.
"ooh look how much you've grown!" sun coos down at you in an impression of someone elderly, thumbs rubbing into your cheeks. it makes you huff, but you resign yourself to his teasing. hopefully he just needs to get it out of his system. "my baby is so big now! adorable! gorgeous! they grow up so fast!" he releases one of your cheeks so he can pretend to wipe a tear from one of his white eyes. you internally celebrate at the relief and quickly lift your hand not holding your tablet to cover your aching cheek. his head tilts to the left at the loss, but he's still got his fingers pinching at the other side of your face. you're not sure how much of this you can take.
"sun, buddy, you're killing me over here," you manage to get out, ears tinged red at all his attention. his grin seems to widen.
"i remember when you were just a wee thing!" sun continues in a voice that's a pretty spot on imitation of someone in their later years. "dancing around, pretending to marry that little toy you had. tell me sweetie, do you have any special person in your life, hm? any lover? am i gonna have any grandbabies running around soon?"
a flush crawls up your neck at his words and you halfheartedly glower up at him. honestly, what the hell? where is this even coming from? sun only finds delight in your glare, however, if the way his rays spin around is any indication.
"dude," is all you manage to say. it makes his eyes upturn into crescents. "knock it off— ow! hey, that hurts!" he'd given your cheek a particularly rough tug and it makes something drop in the pit of your stomach. you watch with wide eyes as he lowers himself until his face is mere inches from yours, dark with the shadows from the fluorescent lighting above.
"well?" sun whispers to you, all the mirth and delight gone from his voice as though they had never been there in the first place. you swallow heavily and suddenly feel very, very uneasy. his smile stretches farther along his face, unnatural and thin. "do you?"
#>:3c#teehee#anyways#dca#dca x reader#daycare attendant x reader#dca fandom#fnaf sun x reader#sun x reader#sun x y/n#sundrop x reader#sundrop x y/n#fnaf dca x reader#sundrop x you#sun x you#shay scribbles daydreams#honestly why do they have so many fcking tags i go insane everytime i post smthn#daycare attendant x y/n#daycare attendant x self insert
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Glass Houses - [Mini Verstappen Series]
Dad!Max Verstappen x Mother!Reader (Established Relationship)
Summary: When Raymond had called you about going and getting lunch, you should have known that something was going on.
Warning(s): Jos Verstappen (Being himself/an asshole), Mixed formatting (Story + Article), Max and Reader get into an argument about Reader going and meeting Jos, Max opens up to Reader about Jos, Max and Reader making up at the end
A/N: Although this chapter, like Stones To Throw, is pretty heavy in terms of topic. These were some of my favorites to write for this series. This is also the longest chapter of this whole series.
Words: 4k
Previous Part → Next Part
Mini Verstappen Masterlist
When Raymond had called you about going and getting lunch, you should have known that something was going on. You and Raymond never talked much without Max around.
Max was at Milton Keynes for testing this week before the season started again, Nico was at school for the day and the sitter was taking care of Nikita for the few hours that you would be out of the house. When you showed up at the restaurant, you saw Raymond talking to someone who was sitting across from him.
As you got closer to the table you couldn’t help but stop in your tracks. Raymond was sitting and talking with Max’s father. Who you had never formally met, or talked to at all. But you knew it was him, from the photos online to see the outline of the same man in your driveway 7 months ago. What was Raymond thinking inviting you to lunch with them?
You timidly walked up to the table before hearing Raymond speak, “Y/N,” He said with a slight nod.
“Hey Raymond,” You greeted him, letting your eyes sweep past Jos.
You didn’t want to look at him, mostly because of the stories that you had heard from Max and Victoria. Jos was a good grandfather to Victoria’s boys, but every time she brought it up with Max you could tell that he was getting angry about it. You always had to keep the peace between them when those conversations started.
Jos stood up from his chair reaching his hand out to take yours. You glanced at it and then at him. He was only slightly shorter than Max. Bigger in build from the fact that he wasn’t on an athletic diet like Max, who had to keep his weight down so he would be in top shape for when the season started in a few short weeks.
You didn’t want to shake his hand but did anyway. There had to be a reason as to why you were here. You just hoped it wasn’t to make a deal with the man who Max grew to despise as he grew up.
He gave you a half smile, and although it didn’t seem malicious you couldn’t help but slightly question it.
“Jos.” Max’s father said.
“Y/N.” You replied.
“I know, my son’s wife.” He made a vague gesture towards you. “Where are my lovely grandsons, if you don’t mind me asking.”
You flinched internally at the word lovely. You loved the way Max said that word when he was complimenting you, or commenting on something that was going on. Hearing Max’s father say the same word and what followed after, made knots in your stomach start to form.
“I actually do.” You played with your wedding and engagement ring as you looked at him, not bothering to answer his question.
The more you looked at him, the more you could pick up the little parts of Max’s features that he got from Jos. His nose, his eyes, even though Max’s were a darker shade of blue. Max had a mix of Jos and Sophie’s hair. Luckily Max had gotten the majority of Sophie’s features.
“I was right, wasn’t I Ray?” Jos turned to Raymond. You could see his smile turn up a little more. “Max chose well.”
You had heard from Christian that Raymond and Jos were friends but never gave it much thought before now. You were sure that Max hadn’t told his father about the house, so Jos was keeping tabs on Max through Raymond.
“Is there a reason as to why I’m here?” If there wasn’t then you would like to go about the rest of your day. You still needed to get groceries before going and picking Nico up from school.
“I wanted to meet you,” Jos said before reaching for the glass that was in front of him. “Meet the woman who is going to help mold my grandson’s future in Formula 1.”
“You don’t know that, you have no idea if my son is going to keep karting.” You crossed your legs, your eyes traveling over Jos’ face trying to read into what he wasn’t saying.
“You’re son?” Jos mocked placing his glass back down onto the table.
“Yes.” You fired back. You didn’t need to hear this from him. Jos hadn’t been in Max’s life for a long time, and he had never even known Nico.
You watched as Jos’ shoulders went lax, sitting further back in his chair. His eyes studied you for a moment before he nodded.
“I’m surprised,” He crossed his arms.
“By?” You asked quizzically.
“My son finding someone… who can handle everything.” You wanted to question Jos. What did he mean by that? Everything? Did he mean Max’s career, his schedule, him being away all the time? Him having to raise a child by himself essentially for the first few years of Nico’s life?
You shook your head, “I don’t understand what you mean by everything. It’s not like my life is all that different. I’m married and I have 2 children. What’s so different about-?”
“I meant,” He said, cutting you off. “That you can love my grandson as if he’s your own.”
Your eyes hardened. Of course, you loved Nico as your own. How could you not? He was a sweet boy, who loved playing with his model cars, wanted to ride his bike around the driveway, and was always polite to those around him.
“There is no if, in that, it’s not as if he’s my own. That little boy is my son regardless of what you or other people might think.” You didn’t know Jos like Max did so you had no problem telling him how things were. “I can’t believe that you even though it would be right to make Max give Nico up. Max is an amazing father to our children.”
You almost wanted to tell him that you felt bad for him. He would never get to see what a great dad Max was to the boys. He would just have to hear about it from other people.
Jos moved forward in his chair almost as if he wanted to lunge at you. You didn’t flinch or move away.
“You think that you have a right to tell me this.” He said defensively.
“I have every right,” You calmly replied. You weren’t going to elaborate. You didn’t need to.
You made sure to meet his eyes and could see the recognition in them. He knew deep down that you were right. But he would never admit it publicly or try to talk to Max about it. He had too much pride for that. He had raised Max to achieve everything that he did and now got to revel in it when anyone asked who pushed Max to succeed. It was like Jos fed off it.
“If you want to keep tabs on Max through Raymond, that is none of my business, but please respect that my husband doesn’t want you near our children.” You moved out of your chair pushing it in. Jos had moved his hands onto the armrest of the chair as if he were going to get up. “My children’s career, be it racing or otherwise is none of your concern.”
You pushed up your hand to stop him from getting up from his chair. You didn’t want to be there. You should have just left when you saw that it was Jos here with Raymond.
You gave Jos one last look and you could see that whatever he was trying to accomplish by getting you here had failed. You collected your bag from the top of the table and walked away from them both.
You weren’t going to enjoy telling Max about this.
Five Days Later - Sunday
Wife of Formula 1 Driver, Max Verstappen, Y/N Verstappen seen abruptly leaving a restaurant just outside of Saint-Tropez
Anita Eriksson For DAILYMAIL.COM
February 22, 2026
A few days ago one of our journalists was in Saint-Tropez and saw Y/N Verstappen, wife of 4 time World Champion Max Verstappen in a restaurant.
Verstappen's wife, Y/N was there for less than half an hour, and she was seen talking to who appeared to be Verstappen's father Jos, and his manager, Raymond Vermeulen. Over the years, people have started to notice that Jos Verstappen hasn't been present at F1 races and is never seen around the paddock anymore.
Rumors have spread that Verstappen banned his father, saying that he was too much of a distraction, making it hard for Max to compete. Verstappen's father was absent for all of Max's championship wins dating all the way back to his first in 2021. Just over a year after Verstappen's oldest son was born. Although, Jos being banned from the paddock has never been confirmed by Max or anyone from the Oracle Red Bull Racing Team.
From what the journalist saw, Y/N didn't seem all that happy to be sharing the same space with Jos. She sat down for a few minutes, didn't order anything, had what seemed to be a harsh conversation with him, and then collected her bag before getting into the navy blue Bentley Bentayga S 2026 that her husband bought her as a birthday present.
Jos Verstappen didn't look pleased after Y/N had left the table and was seen yelling at Vermeulen.
In December of last year, Y/N gave birth to Verstappen's second child, a boy named Nikita, named after racing legend Niki Lauda. Which they announced via. Y/N's Instagram. This is the first time that she has been seen out in public since the birth of her son.
One Day Later - Saint-Jean Cap Ferret
You had been in the kitchen making yourself something to eat after just having put Nikita down for his afternoon nap. Max had come storming into the room with his phone in hand, from the spare bedroom where his racing sim was set up.
"Did you have lunch with my father and Raymond while I was away last week?"
You had stopped what you were doing and just looked at Max. You had never seen him so angry before. His expression was almost unreadable. You had only ever seen him look like this after something had gone wrong during a race.
You put down the knife that you were holding, "Yes." You started to say. You wouldn't really call the encounter that you had with Jos lunch, but to Max that would only be a minor detail. "Raymond called me and asked that I come meet him."
"You went, of course, without telling me." He stated, moving his hands a bit as he spoke.
You knew why Max was saying this. He didn't want Jos around you or Nico remembering how Max was after Jos had visited the house all those months ago. The following days after Max had been rather clingy with you and Nico, wanting to be around you as much as possible.
"I didn't know that Jos was going to be there." You hadn't but you should have assumed that it wouldn't just be a friendly lunch between you and Raymond either.
“You…” He started to say before he cut himself off. “You shouldn’t have gone. Not without me.”
“I don’t need you to protect me Max.” You had always been able to handle things by yourself, that hadn’t changed.
Max walked closer to you, leaving his phone face up on the counter. It was unlocked to show a Daily Mail article, with a photo of you from last week. It was you leaving the restaurant before you had gotten back into your car to go home.
Max didn't walk any closer to you, keeping a fair distance between the two of you. You could see one of his hands slightly twitch as if he was going to reach out for you. He dropped his hand at his side and then ran it through his hair.
"Were the boys with you?" He asked. You watched as his eyes moved no doubt studying your face.
"No," You said with a sigh. You would never have taken the boys with you to meet Raymond alone. Maybe that's why you were so insistent that Sylvie stayed at the house with Nikita. Your instincts told you that it was better not to take Nikita with you. "Nico was at school and I left Nikita with Sylvie so I could go see Raymond," And your father, you thought. "And then went and got groceries before I went to pick up Nico once he got out of school for the day."
You knew better than to take Nico shopping with you, he would always put things in the shopping cart that you didn't need.
Max nodded but didn't say anything else to you. He walked out of the room, leaving his phone, not looking at you at all.
You picked it up and read through the article. There would no doubt be comments on Twitter about you with the hashtag #lionessverstappen. You had grown used to the moniker but never thought that your being protective over Max and the boys would lead to this type of reaction from Max.
You had never had to explain to Max why you did things throughout the entire time that you had been together. There had always been a reason and Max had understood that. Why couldn’t he understand this?
You didn’t follow Max out of the room because you knew if you did it would lead to both of you yelling at each other. So you just stayed in the kitchen and kept cooking. You finished making yourself food and then started the prep for dinner.
As you stared at the plate of food that you had made, you couldn’t help but push it away from you. You didn’t want to eat anything. You knew that you should since you were still breastfeeding but you couldn’t manage it. So you forgo eating and pull out your laptop to answer some work emails.
You glanced out into the backyard to see Max pacing back and forth while talking on the house phone, his hair in complete disarray from running his hand through it so many times.
As you looked at him, you wanted to tell him why you had gone to talk to Raymond.
Max didn’t talk about Jos unless he had to. He was always a sore subject. You thought that going and talking to Raymond would give you more insight into Max’s relationship with Jos. But after you had met Jos yourself, you were quick to realize that you should have waited for Max to talk to you about this when he was ready, even if he never would be.
After having only spent half an hour with Jos. You understood that Jos cared more for himself and the way he looked in the eyes of the media and F1 history than actually being a good parent/grandparent when it came down to it, or when it had anything to do with Max. He wanted people to view him as the person who helped mold a champion. It just happened to be that that Champion was his own flesh and blood.
The sound of the crackle from the baby monitor pulled you out of your thoughts. You left your computer open, rushing to Nikita’s room. Not noticing that Max had watched you leave before he sat down on the couch outside with his hands in his hair. The house phone now lying on the coffee table after he finished talking with the Red Bull team publicist.
You and Max hadn’t talked to each other all evening. Both of you paid attention to Nico at dinner and as you kept looking over at Max, there were only a few fleeting moments when you could feel him look at you.
This was the first time since you and Max had gotten married that you didn’t feel happy. After just a year of marriage, you had your first fight. Better now than later.
“I don’t want it to be like this.” He said after turning off the faucet in the kitchen after dinner.
You had sent Nico up to his room to finish his homework assignment, and Sylvie had taken Nikita to his room after his 7 pm feeding.
“Like what?”
“I don’t want you to keep things from me.”
“What do you want me to say, Max?” You asked in urnist. “I didn’t tell you that I saw your father. I didn’t want to tell you given what we ended up talking about.” Even if you wanted to justify it by saying that you only meant to talk to Raymond that wouldn’t help.
Max gave you a pensive look, his lips pressed into a firm line.
“I know.” He muttered before you saw his lips quiver. “What did he say?”
You shook your head. “You don’t want to know.”
“Tell me, please.” he pleaded. You shook your head not wanting to tell him before sighing.
“Something about helping mold Nico for Formula 1.” With those words, it was like you momentarily saw the color drain from Max’s face.
“He’s an asshole, and my father… and he-”
Max cut himself off with a sob. You moved closer to him, taking his face in your hands, holding his cheeks, and searching his eyes. Seeing the tears start to form, the storm brewing in the blues of his eyes.
You wanted to tell Max what Jos had said to you but thought it would be better for Max to get his thoughts out first.
“Jos had always pushed me to be the best when it comes to racing, and I, of course, let him because I thought it would make him proud of me.” He paused for a second as if he was trying to think of the right way to say something. “The only good thing he ever did for me was show me what it truly takes to be a father and love your children unconditionally.” He took in a sharp breath.
Max had pulled your hands away from his face. It was as if he needed the space to be able to get those final few thoughts out.
“There were always strings attached when it came to Jos being proud of me. If I wasn’t doing well, then he wasn’t proud of me. I know now, from the boys, that if you truly love your children, you put their interests first, always.”
That was why Max had such a hard time when Nico started karting. It was what Nico wanted at the time, and what he was still passionate about even now, but Max didn’t want to make Nico feel like, if he wasn’t doing well he wouldn’t be proud of him.
“I don’t want to feel as if he defines me, because I know that I’m nothing like him. But I can’t help it at times.” You didn’t want to keep telling Max that he was nothing like Jos. Being like Jos would always be Max’s biggest fear, and the only way that he would be able to get over it was for him to work through it. He would need you for that reassurance until the boys were old enough to be able to tell Max themselves that he had done the best that he could for them.
“I wanted to keep you away from him, so you wouldn’t see the parts of me that I get from him.” Max continued to say. “I can’t lose you, not when I’m grateful for all of the things that you have done for me, and our family.”
“You won’t lose me, I won’t let you.” You promised him.
Max was quick to drop his head afterward. “We don’t fight.”
It was true, you and Max didn’t have arguments. You weren’t those types of people.
“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean that we won’t disagree on things in the future.” You said.
Max had held his hands out to you facing his palms out, inviting you to touch him. Offering himself up to you.
You moved closer to him, taking his hands in yours. “It matters that we worked it out.” He moved closer before resting his forehead against yours. “That we always find a solution, together.”
“We will.”
“I’m sorry, for getting upset with you.” He said.
“I’m sorry for not telling you that I went to lunch with Raymond and that Jos was there as well. I should have told you right after it happened.”
“It’s okay Schat,” Out of all of Max’s pet names for you that was the one he used the least. “I know you were only doing what you thought you needed to.”
“What did you say to him?” He asked muttering the words into your hair. Max was looking past you a little lost in thought.
You let out a small sigh, “I told him to respect that you don’t want him around the boys, and that Nico’s career wasn’t any of his concern.”
With those words, it put the conversation to rest. Max met your eyes, and you could see his shoulders relax.
Max pressed his lips to your forehead, and then your cheek. You let him hold you for a moment, running your fingers over his back as you felt his shoulders relax further. You slotted your head against his shoulder.
As you stood there in each other's arms the baby monitor crackled awake with the sound of Nikita fussing. You pulled back from Max before he stopped you.
“I’ll get him.” Max reached up and cupped your cheek before leaving you in the kitchen to calm him. You ended up pushing in the kitchen chairs that weren’t tucked under the counter.
“Come, Nikita, come to Papa.” You heard over the baby monitor as you moved to sit in the living room. You could hear Nikita lightly fussing but it ended rather quickly.
You moved onto the couch taking the cashmere blanket that was hanging off the edge and laying it over your legs before you saw Max come back into the room with Nikita lying against his shoulder.
You didn’t move from your sport, instead you stayed there watching Max interact with the baby, as he gave him all of his attention. Nico had come into the living room, shoving the papers from his homework into his bag. He ended up climbing onto the couch before crawling over to you sitting in your lap, and laying his head on your shoulder.
Nico had gotten extra clingy with you now that Nikita was around. He wanted to always have your attention when he could even if you were trying to change Nikita’s diaper or make sure that Nikita wasn’t being fussy. It had taken a bit of time but eventually, Nico started to understand that you were paying more attention to Nikita because he was a baby, not because Nico had been replaced.
Max eventually joined you and Nico on the couch with Nikita tucked into his arms. You spend a little longer in the living room with them until Nico's head grew heavy against your shoulder after he fell asleep. You switch with Max, him taking Nico and putting him to bed and you taking Nikita, putting him in the bassinet that was in the master bedroom.
Eventuality both you and Max make it to bed, he can't seem to let you go once you’re under the covers sharing a few kisses before your eyes are too heavy to stay open. He pulled you flush against him, your head over his chest, his hands finding any bare skin that he could feel without the fabric of one of his shirts getting in his way.
“I love you.” You mutter into his chest. You need him to know that through every argument and all the time spent away from one another, you still love him and will always be there for him.
“Ik houd ook van jou, mijn leeuwin.” You can tell from the tone in Max’s voice that he’s almost asleep but not quite there yet. You feel one of his hands move out from under the shirt that you’re wearing before he reaches to take your hand in his. He kisses the back of your hand and then interlocks your fingers together placing it on the vacant part of his chest.
Translation:
Ik houd ook van jou - I love you too
taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13
#mini verstappen series#max verstappen imagines#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#mv1 imagine#mv1 x reader#mv33 x reader#mv33 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 imagine#f1 x reader
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I really resonated with Daryl x abused reader could you maybe do one where the reader doesn’t let their past define them and shows little signs of abuse like they’re super cheery and happy and doesn’t let their past get them down and but maybe reader has a ptsd attack by Daryl after he confronts her about being so happy especially in an apocalypse and they just realize they relate to each other even if they’re personalities are so drastically and Daryl just comforts reader 🫂
The Painted Bunting
Era: Greene Farm
Summary: Daryl is paired with you on the search for Sophia and snaps at you after growing tiresome of your seemingly endless kindness.
Note: No more laptop for now since the cord broke so I hope you’ll all forgive the lack of my usual post formatting :(
Warnings: profanity, mentions of past abuse, grumpy sassy asshole Daryl (the man we originally fell in love with)
Banner credits on this post
Shining hair in the rays of the sun, an infectious laugh, a beaming grin that never seemed to dissipate. A glowing beacon in the dark. That was what you were. And, admittedly, it got under his skin a little, so Daryl tended to avoid you. You weren’t oblivious to it, but you accepted it for what it was. After all, you couldn’t win them all, right?
You had always been that way; soft, gentle, graceful, kind. If you had never let the past change that for you, you certainly wouldn’t let present day events change it, either. Maybe the world had become a nightmare, but that didn’t mean you had to be one too.
Daryl thought that what really gritted his teeth about you was that through everything that had happened, you never changed a single bit. Not like the others had; not like he had.
After the world fell, after the camp by the quarry was overrun, after the CDC, after Sophia had gone missing, you remained exactly the same. For all of the afore mentioned, Daryl found you to be one of the most vexing people he ever had the displeasure of interacting with, second only to Shane, who could have easily been traded off for his own brother, Merle.
Needless to say, he was peeved at the idea that you were sent on search duty with him after he hurt himself in the ravine. Rick decided a buddy system would be beneficial to all of the search party participants, and you volunteered to tag along, because of course you did.
You weren’t so much looking forward to spending so much one on one time with the man, yourself. You didn’t necessarily have an issue with him, but you were all too aware of the issue he seemed to have with you. Really, you couldn’t relate to him at all. Not everyone around camp was perky and sweet, and rightfully so, but Daryl was such a brooding presence and you just couldn’t put yourself in that frame of mind.
The two of you had set out just after dawn and the hours ticked by as you made friendly conversation and Daryl occasionally offered you a measly grunt in response.
“Do you think we’ll find anyone out here?” You asked. “I mean, aside from Sophia. I know we’ll find her.”
“Pro’ly better if we don’t find nobody else.” Was his first verbal response all day. You shrugged.
“I don’t know. Could be good. I’m sure there are people who could really use some help.”
“Ain’t our problem.” He argued. “Gotta look out for our own. The hell you worried about helpin’ strangers for when we ain’t even found the little girl we’re after?”
“Oh, no.” You chuckled nervously. “It’s not that I was just —“ You cut yourself off, sensing an oncoming ramble. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Mm.” He hummed, pausing his footsteps to take a breath and scan his surroundings. After a moment, he continued forward, and you followed without question . Admittedly, you had no clue how to track, so if anything you were there in case he got hurt.
“So, if someone needed your help… You wouldn’t help?” You asked innocently.
He whipped around to face you, the aggression behind his motion drawing you to a dead stop.
“The hell’s your problem, huh?” He snapped. You blinked. “It’s the end of the goddamn world and you’re askin’ me about some hypothetical moral dilemma? Let me tell you somethin’, girl; ain’t no damn morals in the apocalypse. Ain’t no more law and order! It’s just us,” he paused, sending an arrow through the skull of a walker that had crept up behind you. You flinched and turned to watch its carcass thud on the forest floor. “And them.” He concluded.
“I—I was just making conversation.” You mumbled timidly.
“Why? It’s not a social call! We’re out here to find that little girl. This is why I didn’t need no damn babysitter.” He complained.
“I was just trying to be nice.” You defended.
“Nice?” He scoffed. That simple word seemed to trigger something in him as his eyes lit up with aggravation. “Don’t you get it? It ain’t about bein’ nice anymore. It’s about survival. Got dead people standin’ up and eatin’ people and you’re worried about bein’ nice. Walkin’ around passin’ out water and food and gigglin’ with everybody like we ain’t got a bunch o’ dead bodies stumblin’ around us just waitin’ to take a bite out.”
Maybe it was the way he raised his voice, or the way his eyes shot flaming daggers of fury right through your chest, or the way he threw his arms down and spat words at you like you were some puny, wretched little thing. You didn’t know what it was, but somewhere in the whirlwind of heated exchange, his voice slowly blended together with the other voice — the one that still lived in the back of your mind and ate away at you every day.
The voice that belonged to your own father, the one person who struck true, genuine fear in you. Before you knew it, that old sensation of real terror, the one you’d buried somewhere deep inside you and covered with cement, was breaking free and engulfing you.
You were frozen, like a fawn under the scrutinizing gaze of a predator. The humid air felt like a thick paste as you struggled to gulp it down and catch a breath. At first, Daryl felt inclined to criticize your tears as a show of weakness, fragility, inability to handle a little raise of the voice. He quickly noticed, however, that this was no simple burst of reactionary emotions. No, this was something much deeper and it was rattling you to the core. There was a distant look in your wide eyes, one that he came to recognize, even if it took him a minute.
He shifted on his feet, scanning you, unsure how to intervene.
“Hey.” He eventually called out, but it was clear his voice wasn’t reaching you. This was the final piece of confirmation he needed. You were having an episode, the kind he experienced a few times when he first got out of his father’s abusive home.
He sighed and grabbed your trembling shoulders. You jumped but you didn’t flee or strike out. His touch seemed to dry you out and shrivel you up like a raisin. You shrank into yourself, hyperventilating.
“C’mon.” He said softly, ushering you done to your knees. “Hey. Ya gotta breathe.”
Your breathe only became more shallow and forced. Tears poured down your cheeks as your chest got tighter.
“Just breathe. That’s the only way it’s gonna stop.” He urged. He went to grab your wrists but you panicked, snatching your arms away and falling down on your back.
“No! Get away! You can’t do this anymore! I’m not a little kid!” You cried out.
You were making quite a bit of noise by this point, between the gasps for air and the sobs. He crouched over you and grabbed your shoulders.
“(Y/N), ya ain’t there anymore. Wherever it is, it’s gone. In the past. It’s just you and me right now, and we ain’t there. We’re here.” He soothed, hoping his voice could find you somewhere in the abyss. “Just listen. Ya hear that? It’s a Painted Bunting. Look,” he pointed up into a tree at a bright multicolored bird, similar in its beauty to a parrot, only much smaller. “It’s right up there. Ya see it?”
Your breathing had started to slow down now, those shallow inhales finally reaching a little deeper within. Your eyes lazily followed his finger to the bright little bird singing a flute-like melody.
“Ya see it?” He asked again. You managed to nod once, still holding your arms tightly to your chest as you laid flat on the bed of leaves and twigs. He took a moment to see you, to really take you in, and he realized you were beautiful. Not just in the way a pretty girl with a nice personality was beautiful, but in a way that left so much of who you really were unsaid.
“Just watch it.” He whispered, glancing back up at the feathered creature, hoping it would stick around long enough to bring you back down to earth. “They take two years to look that pretty. Did ya know that?” He asked, glancing back down at you. Your eyes were still on the bird, but you shook your head no. “Yeah. Only the males, too.” He added. “Otherwise, they’re just kinda greenish and yellowish.”
Once your chest was rising and falling with a steady rhythm, you finally looked over at him. Humiliation began to set in. You quickly sat yourself up and brushed the dead foliage away from your clothes and hair.
“I’m sorry.” You mumbled. “That hasn’t happened in a long time.”
“‘S okay.” He shrugged, standing himself back up as well. “Happens.”
“Yeah, we’ll, it shouldn’t. Not nowadays.”
“Can’t help it when it does.” He assured you. “I get it.”
“Maybe I should head back.” You suggested.
“We both can. If ya wanna. It’ll be dark soon anyways.”
“I don’t wanna make you lose your trail or.. Ya know.” You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.
“Nah. Ain’t no use after dark, anyways. We’d just be stumbling in circles and bumpin’ into each other.” He insisted, contrastingly soft in comparison to before your episode.
“Oh. Right.” You nodded. Just as you got ready to turn back toward the farm, he cleared his throat.
“Ya wanna talk about it?”
“About what?” You turned back to him. He shifted his weight anxiously, chewing at the inside of his cheek. Offering an ear to listen was at least ten yards outside the perimeter of his comfort zone. “About that?” You asked. “That was nothing. Just something stupid that happens sometimes. That’s all.”
While his tone was much kinder and warmer than before, yours was cold, dull, and tired. Those episodes could take a lot out of a person, and he was no stranger to that fact.
“Sometimes it helps.” He said. “Talkin’ about it. Makes it a little less…” He trailed off, searching for the word he wanted. “Less, uh… Consuming.”
“It never gets less consuming.” You argued.
“It does.” He insisted.
“And how would you know?” You asked, impatience lacing your words.
“I used to get ‘em too.” He admitted. “Been awhile but… I just get it. That’s all.”
You studied him. In all the weeks you’d spent around the man, you’d never seen him so genuine, or really so open. He never seemed to look at you like another person. You were always just another load on his shoulders.
“My dad.” You finally spoke. He nodded.
“Me too.”
“I’m sorry.” You sympathized.
“Me too.” He agreed.
“We should go.” You sighed, turning away again.
This time you didn’t wait for him, you just started walking, until he called out behind you; “‘M sorry.” You stood still, but you didn’t look back. He knew he had your attention, though, and he knew he had to say something else. “I know I did it this time. I shouldn’t’ve yelled at ya like that.”
“It’s okay. Maybe you were right.”
“Nah.” He shook his head, taking slow steps to catch up to you. “I wasn’t. It’s good. Ya didn’t let none of that shit make ya bitter. Keep it that way. Else you’ll end up a grumpy redneck.” He joked. You suppressed the small smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.
“Maybe the grumpy rednecks of the world got it figured out.” You said, walking again once you felt him catch up.
“Nah. I don’t know shit about shit.” He admitted, eliciting a small laugh from you. You shook your head.
“I don’t think anyone does.” You reasoned.
On the hike back to the Greene farm, you two shared some light banter, some stories of the past, some laughs and extended looks. He grew finder of you that day. The critical glares he’d send you from a distance were replaced with admiration and respectful nods. You’d often catch him looking and flash him a big smile, waving at him before you attention was drawn elsewhere.
You both learned that maybe the two of you were differently colored fruit, but you grew from the same tree, and you weren’t so different after all. And, that sentiment was never lost or forgotten. It carried with you for as long as you two knew each other.
Taglist || Masterlist
tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix
#daryl dixon#daryl x reader#twd daryl#the walking dead daryl#daryl x female reader#daryl twd#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl x you#daryl x y/n
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navy fury | mv33
im a redbull stan and max's girlie till i die (but my heart is papaya shaped) so please enjoy this one as well!
summary: max is struggling with asking for help, reader is trying her best to let him know that she always got his back
warnings: negative emotions, angst, max struggling with his demons, jos verstappen (he is the biggest warning lol)
pairing: max verstappen x fem!mclarendriver
Max would often get angry.
More often than he would like it to be. More often than he would want a consuming wave of anger to wash over him, for fury to engulf him and inject its burning venom into his veins. He would get angry over trivial things, get angry over bigger issues either. Anger would truly eat him up every time something didn't go as planned.
However, he tried to fight with his anger and negative emotions at all costs. Instead of processing them, letting go and moving on, he would bottle them up, allowing them to fester and poison his entire being. He preferred to get angry in solitude, where he knew nothing wrong would happen and even if it did, he would be the only one harmed.
Unfortunately, Max found a kind of satisfaction and comfort in hurting others. Emotions dissipated much faster when he could engage in an argument with someone rather than sitting in silence with only his own screams shattering his head.
If Max could have any control over himself and his emotions, he would unplug the anger outburst responsible for explosions of anger like this one.
He didn't hear the insults that left his mouth, didn't hear Christian's shouts telling him to calm down. He didn't feel the strong arms of the mechanics holding him back and pulling him away from Lance Stroll, who sat on the ground with a bleeding nose. In moments like this, Max was guided by nothing but emotions, desperately trying to find any way out.
In moments like this Max knew that to feel relief he had to destroy something. It didn't matter if it was a glass, his shattered fists or the bleeding nose of that Aston Martin dickhead who ruined his entire race.
Many people in his immediate surroundings distinguished the Dutchman before the anger storm and after it. Before it was Max, after it, there was only Verstappen.
Just as Max was the friendly, smiling guy who joyfully congratulated his rivals, willingly gave interviews and joked with team members, Verstappen was a walking hailstorm from which lightning could strike at any moment.
"Fucking idiot."
He growled one last time and walked deeper into the garage, where everyone he encountered averted their gaze and moved out of his way. It was always best to simply get out of Max's way and let him cool down. But no one knew that the fire of anger was just beginning to burn and the epicenter was yet to come.
"What the hell was that, Max?"
Cold water. The hiss of an extinguished fire.
He felt a tightness in his chest upon hearing his father's voice. Jos Verstappen was the only person who could instantly turn his anger into pure, filtered fear.
Max unzipped his racing suit, unable to look his father in the face. He didn't even know what to say. What was there to say either, he had just let his father down. Not for the first time though.
"I asked you a question."
His father's cold, gruff tone cut Max to the core and once again, Max was six years old, stuttering as he explained to his dad why he crashed his go-kart into his friend's. Apologizing and making excuses, saying it wasn't his fault that another seven-year-old cut him off. In his eyes, Max wasn't a grown man with an amazing track record, he was just a brat who needed discipline because he made idiotic mistakes.
His father was about to thunder over him again when the whole stormy situation was suddenly illuminated by a ray of sunshine. Quite literally, as it was Y/N still dressed in her bright McLaren suit, who upon hearing about the commotion in the Aston Martin garage hastily went out to found her friend.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Verstappen, but Max is needed in the studio," she said quickly, grabbing Max's hand "Come on, Max, we need to go."
"We'll come back to this conversation."
His father mumbled under his breath, watching them go.
The girl squeezed her friend's hand tighter and started pulling him in the opposite direction, wanting to get him away from his father as quickly as possible.
"I'm not in the mood for interviews."
"There's no interview; I had to come up with something quickly to get you out of there."
Max stopped, causing Y/N to be pulled back as well. Surprised by his sudden decision, she turned to him with a questioning expression.
"I want to be alone right now, without anyone."
He let go of her hand but she still stubbornly held onto his fingers.
"We both know you don't want to be alone."
Max shook his head in denial. The last thing he wanted was to be in her company right now. He knew that when the commotion and the crowd disappeared, all the emotions would flood over him like a toxic wave.
"You don't understand."
"Yes, I don't understand because you don't give me the chance."
The girl approached him, their bodies only a few inches apart.
"Everything is fine between us only when you're in a good mood. We are really close, we spend time together and we are acting like actual friends. But as soon as something doesn't go your way and your behavior changes, you build a thick wall between us." Y/N looked into his eyes, shaking her head. "Friends don't do that, Max."
"That's what the best friends do," he replied, looking into her eyes. As they were always in the colour of the clear sky, in that moment they were having a storm inside. "The best friends won't drown you in the shit that's swirling through their lives, they won't drag you into their inner conflicts. The best friends won't be a burden to you, you know why? Because they'll just spare you that!"
Y/N embraced him without a word. She hugged him with such force that someone would need chains to pull her away. She had no intention of leaving Max's side, no matter what he was struggling with. She wanted to help him, to be his support and to be the light in his darkest nights. She had no intention of letting him continue to deceive himself with assurances that everything was always perfect. Because life never looks that way.
Adult Max didn't return her embrace, knowing that it was for the best. Adult Max closed his eyes and tilted his head, not wanting to let a single tear escape. He hoped that by remaining distant, by hurting the girl with his indifference, she would let go of him. But Little Max didn't want to make her sad; he wanted to hug his friend and not let her go until everything will be okay again.
"I won't leave you with this, Maxie. If you like it or not."
Maxie.
Lighter.
Explosion.
He exploded in tears without any warning. He sank to his knees and tightly embraced his friend, burying his face in her stomach. Y/N stroked his hair, holding him close. She didn't try to calm him, knowing full well that he just needed to cry. He needed to let out all the sadness, anger, and bitterness that had accumulated in his veins and poisoned him for years.
When the girl kissed his wet cheek, she could swear that it left a bitter taste on her lips.
And it was exactly the venom finally letting him go.
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