ooh another old one. One of the first thigns i wrote for maxiel *ever* I'm pretty sure
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The January summer sun draws long shadows on the dry grass, creating sharp contrast despite the washed out colors of the place.
The ground is dusty and warm to the touch, and Max knows it will cling to his clothes and sweaty skin like a tan that will always fake on his pale dutch skin, but he can’t bring himself to mind. Not when he can hear Daniel laughing, when he can see him throw his head back with another bark as his niece says something in her squeaking little, adoring voice. Not when Daniel’s sister leans over having sat down in the shade of the tree Max doesn’t know the name off but is leaning against, legs stretched out in front of him, and says: “He probably told you already, but he’s so happy you came.”
She doesn’t mean to this pony riding event that Daniel had promised to his niece and nephew, but Max feels it counts anyway, making him shrug and lift the bottle of lukewarm water to his lips.
After a couple of gulps, he lets it sink again, exhaling.
“Yeah, I know,” he says, and it comes out softer than intended , but Max’s cheeks are already flushed anyway. “I know,” he repeats even softer.
It’s not enough.
“He wasn’t sure you’d come,” Michelle says.
Across the paddock Daniel laughs again, loud and honest and beautiful. If Max closes his eyes, he can taste it on his tongue, can feel it against his lips.
“I know,” Max says again, his heart heavy in his chest.
Daniel waves at him. His niece and nephew do too. Max waves back, so does Michelle.
“He’s getting too old for his, Max,” she says, her hand down again, expression gentle but serious. Max can’t stand it, but he once thought he couldn’t stand summer in winter either. “For these games, do you know that too?”
Max shakes his head. “I’m not playing any games with him.”
She doesn’t believe him, but neither does Daniel some days, and Max has no idea how to fix it. He thought, maybe, coming here, getting onto a plane after New Years, would be a start. Now that he’s here, on the other side of the world, he wonders if maybe he should have come sooner.
They’ve never spend a New Year’s together.
Six years of this, of them, and not one New Year’s.
“I wouldn’t be here, if I was,” he adds, and he doesn’t look at her, instead looks at his own hand, runs his thumb over the spot that shows a rose on Daniel’s.
He didn’t get it for Max, that’s not something Daniel would do, but Max always felt like in a way, it still ended up for him, his, and maybe that’s foolish, maybe that’s self-absorbed, but maybe that’s how Max feels about Daniel too, about this thing between them, that after all these years, he should be able to put a name on.
Daniel was never meant to be Max’s. He was meant to live in the sun, to have laugh lines drawn onto his face by summer warmth and happiness, he was meant to live and love, and none of that with Max because Max’s one true love will always be racing and Daniel sued to feel the same, but Michelle is right, he’s getting too old for this, he’s getting tired. He hasn’t said so yet, still talks about winning, about believing, about having that passion, and most days he sounds like he believes himself, but others the tiredness in his eyes gets a little too dark, a little too blurry and then Max can see it clearly, can hear it loudly.
Daniel wants to be done. Soon.
He loves the polished streets of Monaco, loves the yachts and the money and the champagne parties but he loves dirt roads and February barbecues more. He loves sleeping in, and waking up to no city noise around him. He loves the ranch he lives on back here, in Australia, and he loves his family, wants one of his own and Max isn’t the kind of guy who can give him that.
“I want to be with him, always,” he says slowly, carefully, *honestly*. “And it’s easy in Monaco. No one question why we’d both be there. We live there. We are friends. But being here, in Perth, it’s different. It’s-”
“But would it be so bad?” Michelle interrupts him, voice low. “If people knew?”
“It would be,” Max answers after a moment, looking over to where Daniel has lifted the little girl onto his shoulders now, walking towards Max and Michelle and their tree, His brother in law with his son next to him.
“Why?” Michelle asks with a sigh.
“Because I’m not done racing.” *And I won’t be for years. Ever, maybe.*”And no matter what they say, I can’t have people know about me and Daniel and race in Qatar. In Malaysia. In Saudi Arabia. Or- Any of those places.”
Her eyes don’t leave his. “What about we race as one?”
A small, sad smile makes the corner of Max’s mouth curl upwards.
“What about it?” he asks, voice a little more raspy than usual.
When the others reach them, Michelle gets to her feet, plucks her daughter from her brother’s shoulders and spins her around, making the little girl giggle and squeal and Daniel smile, all sweet and soft, and nothing like the bright, loud laugh he wears so often than Max loves all the same when it’s honest, never growing tired of it. But this, this small, little thing, it’s not for anyone, not for fans, not for reporters, not for rivals, or for the world. Not for Max. It’s for Daniel and Daniel only, an unconscious little thing.
“I love you, you know,” he says, voice still too rough, too raspy, once Daniel has set down, smelling like horse and sweat and him.
He wishes Daniel didn’t look so surprised. Not after six years.
“I know,” Daniel says anyway, that soft, sweet smile back on his lips. Still looking at Max, he presses a kiss to his own hand, lips covering the rose tattoo.
He’s never said so, and Max would never ask, but it’s something Daniel does when he and Max can’t kiss, when it’d be too risky, when he knows that it’d make Max uncomfortable.
If Daniel was wearing a cap right now, Max would be flicking the brim of it in answer, but as it is, he taps the tips of his index and middle finger against Daniel’s forehead, right where his wild curls begin.
“And I’m glad I came,” Max goes on, because if nothing else, he needs Daniel to know that. “I’m glad I’m here.”
“You hate the Australian summer,” Daniel counters, smile wider now, showing teeth. He puts his arm around Max’s shoulders and Max has to fight the urge to turn into him, to make this something more than buddies, something more than best friends, and breathe in more of Daniel scent, and press his face into Daniel’s bare skin, right where his tank top reveals too much sweat glistening skin, down from his armpit over his ribs to his stomach.
Max wants to slip his hand under the fabric and splay his fingers over the little rolls that slouching has created in place of Daniel’s abs. He wants to climb in Daniel’s lap and grind down on his crotch, wants to feel Daniel grow hard for him, wants to see the wild, dark lust in his eyes, wants bruises on his wrists and bite marks on his throat.
He wants to wake up next to Daniel every morning and go to bed with him every night.
He wants to sit on the roof of his jeep with him and watch the sunset.
He wants to kiss him and love him and fucking marry him too.
He wants to watch the laugh lines on Daniel’s face that he eyes so critically in the mirror these days grow deeper, wants to be there to see his hairline get thinner little by litter and make sure that Daniel knows that he’s not one bit less attractive, not to Max, not to anyone with a brain.
But Max wants to be a world champion too, and that’s all there really is to that.
“I don’t hate it,” Max says, and he means to just knock his knee against Daniel’s, but it stays, instead, side pressed against Daniel’s.
Daniel looks down, eyes crinkling, the corners of his mouth curled up. His smile grows a little wider when Max puts his hand on his thigh, too sweaty and too warm, heart thumbing in his head like it’s about to break.
A/N: I love you like Dr. Strange loves being right
Created for the 14 Days of Valentines community project, hosted by @muddyorbsblr
Series masterlist
Pairing: Loki x fem!reader
Includes: Angst
Summary: Loki seeks council when he fears he's crossed a line
The Bewitched theme tinkles from your pocket as you leave the cafe. Chrysa wiggles her eyebrows, waving goodbye. She's been making hushed comments about how "fucked out" you look since she walked through the door.
You gave up telling her it was just a dream. A very satisfying, very realistic dream, but still a dream.
"Hey Wanda," you answer the call. "What's up?"
"Is Loki with you?"
"No," you frown at the concern in her voice. "I just left work. Why?"
"Steve's angry. Really angry. He said 'damn' under his breath, and he never swears.
"Loki's supposed to leave for a mission in an hour and none of us can find him."
"Have you asked Thor?"
"Thor's at the market. He refused to take his phone because he 'can't afford any more distractions from the new generation of boxed delight.'"
"He's getting an iphone?"
"No," she snickers. "Pop-Tarts released a limited-edition flavor. He's worried everywhere will be sold out because he didn't make it to the store this morning.
"Aaaanyway, do you know where your boy-toy might be? Bruce heard 'HE'S NOT MY FATHER!' coming from Thor's room before breakfast, but no one's seen Loki since.
"He likes to be snarky on coms, but he's never ditched a mission before. Did he say anything last night?"
"Not really. He said he didn't want to get 'too familiar,' but nothing about going somewhere. Luckily, he wasn't so refined it in my dream," you giggle.
"You're so naughty! What did he do?"
"Haha, we gotta meet up if you want the dirty details. I'm not telling the whole train about it."
"Come down to the tower then. Most of the team is leaving. We'll make pineapple upside down cake, and you can tell me everything. And if Loki comes back, you'll get to see him."
"Twist my arm why don't you."
☕
On your ride up, a feminine tone speaks in the elevator. "Welcome back to Avengers' Tower, I'm FRIDAY. Putting Mr. Stark through now."
"Hey, I'm trying to find Rock of Ages," says the unmistakable voice of Tony Stark. "Any idea where he is?"
You look around for a camera or microphone and say "Hi. Um, sorry? I don't know where Loki is. Can't you track his phone or something?"
The doors open, revealing the genius himself as he takes off his Bluetooth to address you directly. "No can do, princess. He's somewhere even FRIDAY can't reach. Next stop is Bleaker St. There's a wizard down there who likes to keep tabs on potential threats. Might be able to give us a lead."
"You don't think he's...?"
"What? Leading another alien army to attack the city? Probably not, but we can't be too careful. Either way, if we don't find him Cap's gonna have an aneurysm and he's too old to survive that." Chuckling at his own joke, Stark gives your shoulder a squeeze and gets on the elevator. "Don't worry, we'll bring your boyfriend back in one piece."
"We've only been on one..." you sigh as the doors close.
"Hey," Wanda comes up behind you. "There you are. I hope Stark wasn't giving you a hard time. He's still jumpy about planetary security. Wants some sort of forcefield, but after the Ultron mess..." she looks guilty. "No one else will agree to it."
You chew your lip, following her to the kitchen. "Should I be worried?"
"Worried?" she looks up. "I don't think so. Steve's just upset because he has to replan the mission. I'm sure Loki isn't in trouble or doing something wrong.
"From what Banner said, it's probably just a family issue."
You nod, but something doesn't feel right. You haven't known the god for long, but you know he wouldn't go to his parents unless he had to.
I’m gonna hop around with the Venom Deku timeline a bit. Doing it in order and building up all that stuff like a story is a bit much for me rn.
Anyway, I’m thinking it becomes harder to differentiate Venom from Deku by the time he’s 10.
He still eats a ton of fish and fries and whatever else he can eat to fill the gnawing hunger. He hides it as much as he can from his mom now, knowing his food expenses are racking up after seeing her struggling with it one night when he wasn’t supposed to see.
To take care of it himself, he decides to sneak out at night.
Leaves through his bedroom window and scurries over to a nearby forest. The hunger is crawling in his stomach.
Izukuuuuu.
“Yeah...”
They find a river. There’s bears in the forest and normal people would have to keep watch, but he’s not worried about that. He’s instead hoping to find good, delicious fish. He’s salivating so much, its running down his chin.
They crouch down by the riverside, Izuku’s eyes long adjusted to the darkness in ways normal people wouldn’t be able to without a quirk.
But he knows very well now.
He doesn’t have a quirk.
In the calmness of night, the fish don’t seem to suspect as much as they would during the day. They aren’t salmon, but they will do.
Izuku reaches his hand back, black ichor seeping from his skin as it forms something like a claw. He’s breathing heavier, feeling hungry, as his vision starts to swim and fill with colors he usually wouldn’t be able to see. Venom’s started covering his face, helping him see even better than usual.
Izuku strikes his hand out, and it forms several thin black spikes that pierce straight into 12 different fish. The ends of the spikes form hooks and lock the fish in place before he hurriedly pulls them out.
They’ve barely touched land before he’s eating one alive, skull and bone and all.
The brain isn’t the important part when it comes to fish, not really. The best part is the thick flesh, full of chemicals and juices that pour salt instead of water on the grease fire in his stomach. His nagging pain finally starts to abate, and the feverish feeling he’d started having went away with each fish he consumed.
It would be bad if he stole salmon. He was tempted too, since it tasted the best. But no one had anything against him eating wild fish. It was just the circle of life, wasn’t it?
Still...maybe he should be more careful.
He realizes that about a week later, when environmentalists notice that certain kinds of fish in the local area have been decreasing. They’re going to start looking for the cause.
...Don’t look.
He knows what Venom means.
He can feel his mom’s eyes on him as the environmentalist talks about how startling it is that local numbers have decreased so much. They talk about overfishing and advise nearby families to reduce their camping plans for the coming summer.
Lady Pyrrha Nikos of House of Nikos, Champion of Mistral look at the tall man clad in glorious set of regal white-gold armor with a long red cape blowing across the gentle breeze, giving him a incredible image of glory and heroism like the mythical heroes from the Golden Age of Heroes.
She knew him even hidden behind his helmet that hide his face from her. Jaune Arc, once as goofy and bumbling goofball who everyone saw as weak and the low of the lowest of Beacon Academy. A total loser.
Now…he stood tall and proud with aura of confidence and strength, no fake or undeserving confidence or strength. One-hundred percent genuine confidence and strength that had her feeling butterflies and her head conjure up less than wholesome thoughts on her old friend/secret crush.
Supercorp + 61 “I told you not to fall in love with me.”
61. “I told you not to fall in love with me.”
This is from like 6 months ago, but better late than never. This was loosely inspired by Jake and Amy in Brooklyn Nine-Nine.
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“I love you,” Lena says, the words falling from her lips with such ease that it doesn’t feel like the first time.
“I told you not to fall in love with me.”
Lena laughs, Kara had, way back during their first date, a date that neither of them really count, a date that had only happened because they’d lost a bet to Alex and Maggie. Kara had jokingly said the words, a teasing smile on her lips as she’d said them as Lena had promised she wouldn’t.
The date had been one of the best Lena had ever had, even if it wasn’t real, because even back then, she’d loved Kara already.
It had taken her a whole another year for her to finally ask Kara out officially.
Their first proper date had been even better.
“You did, sorry I didn’t listen,” Lena replies.
“I’m not,” Kara grins, her fingers playing with the collar of Lena’s shirt. “Do you want to know why?”
Despite the nerves that are swirling in her stomach, because Lena has just said “I love you” to her girlfriend for the first time, she’s smiling, because Kara is here and she’s teasing her and she’s pretty sure Kara loves her too. “Why?”
“Because I’m sort of in love with you too.”
Lena quirks her eyebrow. “Only ‘sort of’?”
“Maybe a little bit more than ‘sort of’,” Kara smiles. “Maybe a lot more than ‘sort of’.”
“How much more?” Lena asks, her hands shifting to Kara’s hips, tugging her closer.
Kara’s smile falters as her eyes dart down for a moment. Lena licks her lips, knows that’s where Kara’s attention has shifted to.
“Kara?” Lena prompts, pulling Kara’s attention back up again.
Blue eyes meet hers.
Lena had no hope of ever staying out of love with Kara.
“So much more,” Kara says after a moment, remembering where their conversation had been. “Like I want to spend the rest of my life with you, more.” Kara admits, which is a lot more than Lena had been expecting, her breath catching at Kara’s words.
Kara tucks a strand of hair behind Lena’s ear, suddenly looking nervous. She bites her lip. “Is that okay with you?”
“Can I tell you a secret?” Lena asks, leaning into the touch as Kara’s hand falls to rest against her cheek.
“Anything.”
“I sort of want to spend the rest of my life with you too.”
“Only ‘sort of’?” Kara asks.
“Maybe a little bit more than ‘sort of,” Lena replies.
“Good,” Kara laughs, and then her eyes are darting down again to Lena’s own smile.
Lena doesn’t call her attention away this time, instead, she closes the small distance between them, swallows the sigh that escapes Kara’s lips when their mouths meet.
“I love you,” Kara mumbles into the kiss.
Lena grins, so much so it makes kissing difficult, but Lena’s not going to complain as Kara’s attention turns to kissing her neck instead. “I love you, too.”
Writers, good news! Since now it’s the 28th of June, we have decided to reveal all the wonderful works in our collection. It’s been a pleasure writing our drabbles, and we absolutely can’t wait to read all of your amazing works!
COLLECTION CAN BE FOUND HERE.
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