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#I do have to shrug and say 'eat weird media''
yellowocaballero · 1 year
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how do you come up with your ideas?
Augury, mostly!
Haha, but no. Everybody has their own story ideas in their own ways. Mine would be no good to anybody else. I can only recommend the same thing that would generate any stronger story - consume a lot of highly diverse books, shows, movies, news, etc. Watch Hellraiser and the Seventh Seal back to back and have the weirdest dreams of all time. A lot of my stuff is built off a place of "this is a retro Kid's WB cartoon!" or "this is a Disney Channel Original movie!" or "this is a satirical war novel!" or "this is an issue of a vintage comic book run!". I have a PBS kid's programming Zoboomafoo-type idea in my head that would only work in a webcomic form that I can't write and it makes me SO ANGRY that I can never realize this vision.
In terms of me, personally, and how things end up working for me. Jokes with friends, overwhelmingly. Very often one idea will spring another - for example, I think I got the idea for New Wave when I was writing the prophetic spring and I ended up constructing a Steph & Bruce relationship that was a) really interesting and fun to write, and b) made me think about how Steph would have been fucking perfect as the first Robin for a million reasons. Covid puppy story was really as simple as a "What if...?" about a Batman arc in the 90s, plus a lot of jokes. Mostly jokes. TBH, most of the time, reading/watching something and going "this is funny, but it would be much funnier if...". Most of my fic is from consuming something I find vaguely mediocre yet enjoyable and riffing on it relentlessly until an actual full concept emerges. So often my brain is just "I want to write Spider-Man 2099 fic but I don't know WHAT to write" and I just have to. Wait til I find a good idea. Shit just happens.
But also I can't explain much. I read a volume of the origin story of Green Lantern Kyle Rayner and then my younger sibling woke up to 80 Discord messages about my perfect complete redo of Kyle Rayner and how I would write the best Green Lantern four season TV show of all time.
It would fuck. By the way. It would fuck hard.
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gyeomsweetgyeom · 1 month
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[3:11 pm]
(cw: f!reader, pregnant reader)
"Hi everyone!" You smile at the camera you've propped up, "Jae and I did some shopping today and we want to do a little unboxing."
Jaehyun rests his chin on your shoulder, watching as you bring the collection of small boxes into the view of the camera. "We were supposed to go baby shopping, but this one got distracted by these weird little toys so we got some," he grumbles, bringing a soft hand to the bottom of your bump.
"We did do baby shopping! We got some clothes and burp clothes and some little socks! We even ordered the crib today!" You counter while turning to look at him. You smile at the camera, "but I've been seeing these all over social media so I wanted to get a couple boxes of each one. We have some Sonny Angels and some Smiskis."
You grab one of the boxes and hand another to Jaehyun. His eyes scan the box, looking at the options on the side. He hears you say, "I want either the pineapple or the peach for my peach boy."
He blushes as you press your lips to his cheek lovingly, "I want the strawberry since you've been eating them nonstop since you got pregnant."
You both open the boxes and pull out the foil bags, he opens his first and frowns, "what the hell is this thing? Why is it spiky?"
Your laugh rings out, "awwww, I think it's a durian. It's cute, honey. Ok, well I got..." You rip open the bag and cheer excitedly, "awww, I got the strawberry!"
"Baby, why are they naked?" he questions with his brows furrowed.
You shrug your shoulders while handing him another box, "I don't make them, Jaehyun. Look at the little faces though, oh my god, I want a hundred more of them. Alright, sorry, these are the Smiskis."
"They look like boogers with faces," Jaehyun mumbles while he turns the box in his hands.
You snort, "these are from the living series. I want... I want the one with the pillow. Which one do you want, honey?"
"I kinda like the one with the flute," Jaehyun replies while opening the box.
This time you open yours first, you smile and coo at the little figure with a cat. You set it up beside the two Sonny Angels while Jaehyun opens his bag. He makes a noise of confusion when he sees the mini figurine, "this one wasn't an option, what is this?"
He holds up the green toy, with its arm out and a flower head. Your eyes scan over the side of the package, "it's not even an option- wait, I think you got the secret one."
"You have weird taste in toys, baby. I mean these two are naked with fruit heads and these two look like messed up boogers," Jaehyun shakes his head, rubbing the swell of your stomach over the soft cotton of your shirt.
You roll your eyes, "whatever, I think we should get more. Thanks for watching!" You reach to stop the video and turn to Jaehyun with a pout. You bat your lashes up at him, "can we go back?"
"We got home an hour ago!" Jaehyun laughs loudly, pressing a kiss to your forehead through his smile.
"Don't you love me? Don't you want me to be happy? The baby wants more toys, are you going to deny your daughter a toy? Before she's even born?" You ask him in an accusatory tone.
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tilts his head back. His hand gently massages your lower back as you lean into him, pressing your chin into his chest. If you had him wrapped around your pretty finger he couldn't imagine how much his daughter would get away with when she was born.
"Different boxes this time?" he asks tiredly. Your happy dance and excited cheers are enough to have him feeling reenergized as he guides you to the couch to rest, with a bowl of strawberries, before he grabs his keys and makes his way out again.
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asapeveryday · 5 months
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SHOCK FACTOR★彡 Part 1
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Next Chapter.
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader
Warnings: swearing
Summary: After a close game and a couple bad decisions, the media has pitted you and Paige against each other. When you finally meet off the court you’re not sure what to expect…
A/n: got many requests for some sort of rival player type-thing!!! I combined some ideas to please the masses :) there will be more parts obv. This chap is pretty long so sorry for that!!
___________________________________________________________
“This question here is for Paige again. Now, is there anything you have to say about the little altercation near the end of the third quarter with number 3 on USC? it was quite a tense moment!”
The blonde smirks to herself, her hand rubbing her forehead. “There ain’t much to say. I went for the ball and obviously she did too. I’m not tryna give anything up, I jus personally think I got it first but that doesn’t matter anymore.” She shrugs. “Thas it.”
There’s a pause for a moment, before she opens her mouth again. “I will say though, ion have much patience for players who can’t control their language.”
Her teammates share looks at this comment, and the reporters attempt to press further but Geno ensures Paige doesn’t talk for the rest of the press conference.
“(Name) how many times have you watched this fuckin video.” JuJu comes up from behind you, scaring the shit out of you and snapping you back to reality.
“I haven’t watched it that much.” You roll your eyes. “I just…never mind.”
“It’s time to move on, shit like this happens. Jus gotta keep on that grind.” She says, sitting down beside you. Despite being a freshman, Juju was naturally mature. You and her had become a popular junior/freshman duo both on and off the court. You pushed her harder and she kept you on your toes.
“I’m moved on.” You huff.
“No you’re not…look at yo hands gripping your phone.” She laughs and you roll your eyes.
The issue wasn’t the prolonged tussle for the ball when your team played UConn, it wasn’t Paige barely regarding you, or her shading the occasional curse you’d let slip during a game. These things all fuelled what really was bothering you. The way you responded.
TWO WEEKS EARLIER, POST UCONN GAME
“Where’s JuJu? Prolly eating or something she’s lowkey a big back.”
You laugh at your roommates response to the question. It had been a weird couple of days since USC faced UConn, usually there wasn’t a lot of buzz around women’s college games but this year was different. The media was all up on everyone, especially UConn since Paige returned in better health for her senior year. You decided to go live to have some fun and interact with your viewers, even though your mind was elsewhere.
“What were your thoughts on how you guys played Connecticut?” You read aloud from the chat. “Um, they’re great. I mean it was pretty close. Me and the girls did what we could and we’re gonna kill it next year, so.” You say, perfectly passive and normal. In your head you were furious at how close the game had been, but there was nothing you could do.
Near the end of the third quarter, you and Paige had a little tussle for possession of the ball. You could’ve sworn you’d gotten it before pale skinned hands darted out for the grab, almost stealing it from you before your instincts kicked in and managed your grip. You vividly remember the yells from teammates, coaches and the stands as you and Paige momentarily wrestled for the ball, her tongue sticking out between her lips and her eyes determined before number 3 on her team tore her away.
Grazing your hand against hers at the end of the game was humiliating, and she was undoubtedly looking forward to it; holding your fingers a moment too long before letting out the most agitating, self-fulfilled “good game” with a smile that would’ve warranted a punch to her teeth had you not been on camera.
You didn’t bother to smile back, but muttered a perfectly timed “bitch” just as her hand let go of yours. Nobody heard it except you and her, and the subtle change in expression from haughty to straight faced was a beautiful sight for sore eyes.
“They keep asking about the thing with Paige.” Your roomie reads, and you shove her. “Bro why’d you say that out loud…now I have to address it.” You whisper to her, annoyed. She wasn’t on the team, and didn’t think about things like that.
She shoots an apologetic look, and you decide to act like nothing happened. The damage is done though, because now all the comments are about Paige.
“You handled the press good after.”
“If I was you I would’ve taken it off the court ngl”
“You were wrong for that!”
“What happened with Paige???”
“The way she was looking at u after….mm”
“Did you see what she said on the panel?”
Scanning through the various questions you found it harder and harder to not think about it. Basketball is a contact sport, things like a fight for the ball weren’t rare. Sure it was a little aggressive, but nothing you weren’t ready for. Paige seemed ready herself, her hands gripping the already-in-your-grasp ball, her eyes shooting you the coldest look they could muster. You’d already seen edits of her all over social media, tousling with you for a moment before being dragged off by Aaliyah.
JuJu walks into your dorm and sits next to you, reading the comments as well. She slightly shakes her head at all the mentions of Paige, but greets the chat nevertheless.
Fuck it. It’s late night, you’ve been getting annoyed by all of this attention on Paige and you, and people weren’t gonna forget about it anytime soon. One comment won’t hurt.
“Did I see what Paige said on the panel?” You read out loud. JuJu shoots you a look. “Yeah…I did. ” You say, suspicious as possible. “Ion know…i jus don’t have much patience for that swiper no swiping shihhh…..stuff.” You mock Paige, then catch yourself before fully saying shit. Two digs at the blonde at UConn in one sentence, one for her statement and the other for her criticism on your swearing.
You, your roommate and JuJu all look at each other for what seems like an eternity before bursting into an explosion of laughter. You were just being petty, it didn’t seem like a big deal at the time.
It kinda was.
PRESENT TIME
You’ve always loved east-coast America. It has a different kind of feel, especially during spring. The weather was getting hotter and everyone is hyped for summer break, at least those without classes. You and some of your teammates were going on a little Big East road trip, and of course the east meant places like New York, Michigan, Boston, Rhode Island, Connecticut.
God, you weren’t ready for Connecticut. The media was really eating you and Paige’s (non-existent) beef up, and you wondered if it would translate into real life. What was worse was that you had a friend who went to UConn who you were seeing for sure.
“I am not coming to your school.” You said hastily over the phone.
“Chill.” Elaine, your friend responded. “Nobody wants you here anyways.”
“Shuttuppppp it’s not funny.” You whine, knowing she was joking but hoping there was no truth in the statement. You could handle the smoke of a mini rivalry, but confrontation was just awkward.
“Just be ready. The minute you’re in town let me know, we can go to my favourite bar.” She laughs.
“Got it.” You respond happily. You were gonna have a fun night out, things were gonna be chill. You’d maybe have a drink…maybe get hammered. It was gonna be good.
-
“You should go live.”
“No fucking way.” You shake your head. The bar was crowded, but nice. You understand why your friend wanted to take you.
“Are most of these people UConn kids?” You ask.
“Yeah.” Elaine responds, looking around. “This is like the Storrs hangout spot on a Friday night. Anyways, I’ve missed seeing your lives.”
“I know, I know.” You rub your head. “I literally can’t though. Like, I’m on a social media ban. Goddd, after that last live you don’t get how much shit I got.”
“I thought it was funny!” She says, and you smile. “Oh my god (Name), did you see her tweet after.”
“BYE.” you cover your face, laughing. A couple hours after the live, Paige had tweeted some sort of passive aggressive very targeted thing about how God has her back when people give her a hard time or something like that. You’d almost died when it showed on your TL.
“Have you seen all the edits comparing me n her.” You manage to get out between laughs. Sure, you didn’t have the spectacular reputation Paige did. The girl had started her college career stronger then literally everyone else, and she was top pick to begin with. Her return to the court was well anticipated, even by you.
Still despite that, you had a certain sparkle in game. You played flashy, but you could back it up. Your freshman year you were very much an underdog, a stark difference from Paige, but your sophomore year had been very different, and this year as a junior you were getting recognition that almost gave you whiplash. Your talent was undoubted.
“I think both of you guys are being extra careful on socials now.” Elaine says. “I mean Paige is pretty active, but when they go live the minute your name is brought up, which it always is, she like…mysteriously disappears from view. It’s actually funny.”
“Whatever.” You say, taking a swig of your drink. “As funny as it is, I’m tired of all this shit, it’s unnecessary. Let’s forget about her.”
Elaine lets out a cough, before covering her face. “Pfft. Um, yeah. Let’s forget about it.”
“What….what is it?” You say, raising an eyebrow. Your friends eyes are stuck behind you. When you turn on the barstool as conspicuously as possible, you feel your stomach physically lurch.
“You’re fucking kidding.”
“We have great luck.” Elaine muffles a laugh.
You spin back towards her, talking through bared teeth. “You brought me to Storrs’s most popular bar on a Friday night…Storrs…fuck. That’s their campus? Seriously??!”
“Don’t be mad.” She sheepishly smiles. “I don’t pay that much attention to them…I didn’t think it through.”
“Boo, you whore. Even I know they’re like, bar-fiends.” You grumble, putting your head down. “God, just put your head down, cover me, something. I’m not tryna do this right now.”
Covering your eyes and keeping your back to the group, you ask. “How many of them are here. Tell me exactly who.”
“Umm, I don’t know all of them.” She says.
“Bitch just tell me…I swear to god.” You sneer, casually attempting to turn, discreetly letting your eyes graze the masses before they meet a pair of blue ones.
Shit.
Her eyes hold yours for a moment too long. Her hair is down instead of her signature ponytail and braids. She’s dressed casually, and posed confidently. Her expression is one of surprise…then amusement…and then something you can’t quite recognize. When her friends start to follow her gaze, you finally turn away.
“Elaine, I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
“Calm down, it’s fine. You always say you can handle the smoke, right?”
“Yeah when I’m in California I can…not when I’m in a UConn infested bar with Paige fucking Bueckers and her cult staring me down.”
“They’re really staring. Oh, KK just pointed at you.” Elaine says, looking at them obviously. You fix your posture and adjust your hair at this.
“Are they like…coming over?”
“Yep.” She murmurs under her breath, indicating they’re close.
“Umm, hey.” A voice says from behind you. It’s low, almost raspy. You remember it being way more strained and arrogant on the court. In the bar, it was almost attractive.
“Hey.” You say, as cool as possible. Turning to face Paige and her teammates usually wouldn’t have intimidated you, you could hold your ground and you were confident in yourself, but here? On their turf? With none of your own teammates? And a couple drinks in you? Your body was already tingling, and you were terrified you would say something to dig your hole deeper.
“Think I could get a picture?” Paige says. She sounds likes she’s severely forcing herself, arms crossed and drink already half empty despite just entering the bar. Azzi’s face breaks into an amused smirk beside her, and her other friends hang back with giggly expressions.
“A…picture?” You say, confused. The three of you stare at each other for an awkward moment before you break the silence. “Sorry…that was rude of me, my bad. I just wasn’t expecting that.” You laugh. “If you actually want a picture I can do that for you.”
“Thanks.” Paige smiles, but there’s no happiness behind it. When she poses by you, her hand just hovers above your waist. She can’t even bring herself to touch you. You give your best smile as Azzi takes the picture on Paige’s phone.
When she shows it to the two of you, you realize why Paige might’ve wanted that picture.
“You’re gonna really shock everyone when you post that.” You say, laughing. Paige’s face finally breaks to a more authentic smirk that sends shivers down your spine. It’s like the one she wore when you two were facing each other on the court. Proud, confident, ready for anything.
“Never let em’ know your next move.” She says, eyes piercing yours.
-
As the night goes on the bar gets more and more busy, you have to yell over the music for Elaine to hear you. You’re not exactly trying to talk to her though, because she’s mostly talking about Paige.
“You know she’s sort of a campus heart-throb right?”
“What??” You yell, although you’ve perfectly heard what she’s said.
“She’s. Hot. Maybe you should flirt with her a little.” Elaine says.
You just shake your head. “I’m gonna get another drink.”
Your luck is spectacular for the night, because there are no barstool seats left except one a little too close to Paige, who’s sitting alone and waiting for her drink. You silently curse, but are thankful her team isn’t there too. You sit by her as confidently as possible, avoiding her gaze.
She’s watching you indubitably, noting every move you make. Your posture as you sit, the Polaroid behind your clear phone case, the way your lips move when you ask the bartender for your favourite drink, these are all thinks she seemingly makes note of.
You can’t help but overhear her scoff at your drink choice, to which you finally turn and acknowledge her, raising your eyebrow.
“Out of everything you could’ve ordered you got that?” She says, haughty as ever.
“Not everyone is trying to get white-girl-wasted.” You respond curtly, eyeing her Dirty Shirley.
Paige scoffs. “You don’t talk as big as you do on your lives.”
Shrugging, you respond “Someone asked a question and I answered, simple as that.”
“Ion know bout that one.” She rolls her eyes.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think you’re just feining for people to talk bout you.”
This bitch. You internally think, brows furrowed at her statement. “Wouldn’t have even been brought up if you hadn’t let your fatass ego get in the way of your media training during that press conference.” You sneer. “Now that is feining for people to talk..”
“Someone asked a question and I answered.” She smiles, sending a hot flash of anger throughout your body. “Simple as that.”
“You think you’re so smart.” You grumble out, turning your head from her. The sheer arrogance is radiating from her body, it’s annoying you to no end.
“I am.” She says, as if it’s common knowledge. “Plus, I’m not the one who started twisting words. That was you, remember?”
When your drink is finally set in front of you, you make a point to get up from the stool and grab it, sending Paige a steely look. “Good talk, Bueckers.”
“Aye, wait a sec.”
You’re already walking away, taking a big gulp of your drink when she slides off of her stool and catches up, walking beside you. You don’t miss how her eyes flick to your mouth when you wipe it clean, facing her begrudgingly.
“Why’re you even here?” She asks. “Visiting yo girlfriend?”
“Who, Elaine?” You laugh, Elaine being the straightest girl you know. “Why’re you so interested?”
“Wasn’t expecting to see some California girl in Storrs. You sure you weren’t plotting on seeing me?” Paige grins, taking a step towards you. She’s taller then you, and the way she tilts her head downwards when she speaks gives you an unrecognizable feeling that you’re planning to blame on the alcohol.
“I got up close and personal with you once, and it was enough.” You smile, holding her stare. She chews on the straw of her Shirley, her expression both amused and something else.
“Ion think so.” She mumbles.
“You don’t have to think.” You respond, looking her up and down for a moment. It feels like an eternity passes as you two challenge each other, the air gets thicker by the minute and you finally break away from her, walking as confidently as you can, far from where she can see you.
-
You don’t see Paige again after that, presumably because her and her friends went elsewhere. Laying in a hotel room next to your teammates, you can’t help but think about the blonde and how odd your interaction was. She had this way of looking at you like she knew exactly what you were thinking, even though you knew damn well she knew nothing except for how you were on the court. Still, despite how her voice made your skin itch and her mannerisms induced the need for violence, there was something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
As if reading your mind, your phone began to vibrate uncontrollably. You check your notifications to see a sea of messages and a couple more alien ones on Instagram.
paigebueckers started following you.
paigebueckers tagged you in their story.
jujubballin sent you a story.
jujubballin sent you a message.
kenzie_4bs sent you a story.
kenzie_4bs sent you a message.
You accept Paige’s request and view her story, which features the picture of you and Paige. You sitting and her standing, her hand just hovering above your waist, her face a curt close-mouthed smile and yours wide and genuine. It’s an interesting photo which she’s captioned “Cali meets Connecticut!”
You scoff at her version of being witty, and immediately cringe at the sheer amount of traction the post has gotten already, with at least 50 people in your inbox within the first 15 minutes of the post coming out. The messages range from “The crossover we needed!!” To “Ik you wanted to punch her white-ass” and frankly it was all too much for you. Social media, Connecticut, the messages, Paige.
She seemed to be the main article of stress in your life the past couple weeks and it seemed to smart to keep a distance from her from this point onward.
The girl really knows how to induce that shock factor.
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georgeclarkesgf · 3 months
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shush, it's a secret | george clarke
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it's not unusual for you to be over at george's flat considering you and him met at university and both moved to london around the same time. but about four months ago, your relationship changed from close friends to just that, a relationship.
you'd both decided to not tell anyone, despite how difficult it was proving to be to not be all over each other 24/7. the fans knew of you, to an extent. you'd appear in the backgrounds of videos or tiktoks posted by the boys. your social media was public, however, none of your accounts included your name, making it less likely for fans to find you.
tonight, you're over at the flat again, legs strewn over george's lap and eating some of the dominoes he'd ordered. a movie chris had picked out plays on the tv, but was now long forgotten about since a debate has broken out amongst the boys. over what? you don't know. you're too focused on the way george's hand is subconsciously trailing up your thigh, dangerously high for a 'close friend'. he honestly hasn't noticed that he's doing it, too engaged in the ongoing debate. so, you pick your phone up from your chest and message him.
too high x
his phone dings and he leans forward, grabbing it off the table before noticing it was from you. you watch as his brows furrow in confusion, before sending him another message.
your hand x
realisation hits george and he squeezes your thigh gently as an apology, moving his hand back down to rest above your knees. he mouths 'sorry' at you, to which you can't help but giggle and shake your head. arthur (hill) looks between you two in slight confusion, going to say something but deciding to keep his mouth shut.
it wasn't that you didn't want to tell people, you'd both just agreed it would be easier figuring things out and adjusting to this shift in dynamic without other people prying their noses in. it didn't make the thrill of getting caught any less exciting though. even the simple things such as him wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder made you get an adrenaline rush.
you can feel your eyes growing heavy, despite it still being relatively early, and decide to call it a night.
"sorry guys but i'm gonna head to bed," an echo of boos fill the room while you shrug, laughing, "i'm tired guys leave me alone. mind if i crash in your bed george?"
it feels weird having to ask your boyfriend if you can sleep in his bed, but it seems to be doing the trick of keeping the relationship a secret. there are only three bedrooms and you've known george the longest, so it makes sense you'd stay in his room.
"no go for it, i probably won't be long." you give him a smile and climb off the sofa, heading to his room.
george's eyes widen when he next checks the time, not realising it was so late.
"shit." he mumbles to himself, gaining a weird look from the boys.
"you alright george?" arthur (hill) questions.
"yea i'm fine. just didn't realise it was so late that's all, got stuff to do tomorrow. i'm gonna go to bed though, night guys." he was lying right through his teeth, he had nothing to do tomorrow.
what george had meant to be ten minutes or so had turned into an hour and a half. arthur (tv) ended up coming over and they'd gotten so caught up in conversation that time seemed to fly by. he knows that you hate falling asleep without him and feels guilt seep into his skin. especially since he knows you won't ask for him to come to bed, not wanting it to come off weird since to the others, you're 'just friends'.
you're staring at the ceiling when he shuts his bedroom door, having fallen asleep for all of twenty minutes before you woke up to an empty bed over an hour ago.
"i'm so sorry baby, i didn't realise it had been that long," you turn to look at him, enjoying the way he starts stroking your cheek with his thumb, "have you been waiting for me?"
"mhm, fell asleep for about twenty minutes and been awake since. it's okay though, kept myself busy," george's jaw drops slightly, clearly misunderstanding your words, "oh my god george, no! i meant by reading some more of my book you perv. get your mind out the gutter."
he laughs and goes in to kiss you but you push his forehead away before he can. you scrunch up your face in disgust.
"ow, what was that for?" he's rubbing his forehead like you just hit him with a bat, making it much more dramatic than necessary.
"brush your teeth, you have pizza breath." he tries to do it again and catch you off guard but fails, "i mean it george."
"yes ma'am."
he disappears into the bathroom and returns a few minutes later. his teeth are brushed and he's wearing a pair of grey joggers. your arms open wide, inviting him to lay on top of you so you can run your nails through his hair and up and down his back. a feeling both of you love.
"can i kiss you now?" he teases, grin widening when you nod your head.
several kisses are planted on your face and you know he's purposefully missing your lips. you frown, wanting him to kiss you properly, not having felt his lips on yours in what felt like years. realistically, it's been a few hours.
"george, kiss me properly." you whine.
and he does just that. one hand holding himself up to hover over you, the other stroking your cheek and bringing you in closer until your lips finally meet. the kiss starts off slow and loving, until he presses you further into the mattress, his hands beginning to roam your body. every ounce of sleep you were feeling disappears, suddenly becoming hyper aware of what's happening.
pulling away, you mumble, "we can't, everyone's here. they'll hear us."
"never stopped us before." george whispers against your mouth, connecting your lips once again.
well touché.
a/n don't ask where the inspiration for this came from at 2 in the morning cause i don't have an answer. not proofread either sorryyy. shall i make a part two? i feel like i'll end up doing it anyway but what do you guys think??
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zweiginator · 21 days
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frat!pat who has a crush on his classmate that he got paired with for a class project🤭 only thing is that she’s in a long distance relationship and he’s doing everything he can to sabotage it
and Patrick has asked around, knows you've been dating your boyfriend for years and years. high school sweethearts. all over each others' social media, the picture-perfect couple. but he graduated a year before you, and now he lives across the country. you love him. you're lonely. and Patrick gives you so much attention. he walks you back to your dorm from class on the days you have it and maybe, secretly, you've really come to like Mondays and Wednesdays.
but you're open with Patrick about your relationship. your dorm is full of photos of you and your boyfriend. you talk about him all the time. and Patrick asks you about him. he pries, when he knows he shouldn't.
"why'd he move away?"
you shrug. "he got a good job opportunity out west."
Patrick chews on his bottom lip. "who could leave a pretty girl like you behind?"
and his comments eat away at you. because you never really thought much about it, him taking that job at a company he doesn't love at a place that's so far away from you, the girl he says he loves.
"do you ever get nervous?"
you set your pen down. "about what?"
"about him being so far." Patrick changed the subject from biology to this but you don't mention it.
"I guess sometimes I do." you pause. "why do you ask?"
Patrick clicks his own pen. "I just wouldn't want you to be held back. you know, from college fun while he's doing whatever out west."
and you've thought about that before. what does he do without you? he doesn't text or call you nearly as much anymore. and Patrick is so attentive. he notices when you're sad, remembers your coffee order.
of course you've noticed how attractive Patrick is. you've stopped to watch him practice at the tennis courts after a study session and you've seen him without a shirt, grunting as he hit the ball. you notice how good he smells and how his lips curl up in menacing smiles whenever you decide to gossip with him after class.
but there's one day where Patrick brings some drinks to your dorm on a Friday night. you didn't have class so maybe you should tell him to go home, this is inappropriate and you don't have any assignments to work on. but you like to be with him and you like watching him take swigs of his beer.
"when's the last time you had sex?" he asks you.
you gasp. "Patrick that's--"
"that's what?" he holds his hands up.
"none of your business."
"you don't need to answer if you don't wanna."
but Patrick is never told no. "maybe since December."
it's October now.
Patrick swallows. "didn't he visit you last month-"
"yeah." you interrupt him.
"I don't mean to be weird but--" Patrick licks his lips. "there's no fucking way I could resist you for that long." and you open your mouth to respond, but Patrick interrupts you. "--I can barely stand to do it right now."
you look up at him through your lashes and your voice cracks and you don't know how to answer but god--you really wish you didn't have a boyfriend.
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everythingne · 10 months
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marketing ploy ln4 - ch 6
Austria goes to shit. Great Britain follows.
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piastri!oc x lando norris, bestfriends brother/fake dating
warnings/notes: inappropriate comments, lando being overprotective, arguments/cursing, mildly severe car accidents (guys its an f1 fic what we were expecting. gotta do the cliche for my first fic), vague descriptions of injury, a few sexual comments, this is SO LONG. like 5k-6k words?
prev | next
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01 JULY, AUSTRIA.
I woke up with a bad feeling in my chest and an odd headache. My lone hotel room, to give Oscar and Lily some space since she was finally able to tag along again this season, felt so enclosing. Slowly pulling myself out of bed, I groaned and immediately went to get ready when I noticed the time. Luckily, it was only qualifiers today, so I didn't have much to do other than hide in my office and make sure no one's car was going to explode.
But god, on my worst day, everything has to go wrong.
First, Max's tires never got warmed. Something was broken, and I had to do so much boring bullshit paperwork. Then, Checo's brakes got sticky and we had to have him DNF. Then for some reason, half the fucking sensors hadn't even recorded anything so I couldn't even tell why they had gotten sticky. But I did feel a bit better (not at all) knowing it had also happened to a few other drivers so it wasn’t just us.
So I was having the greatest time, sarcasm fully intended. And then I completely missed seeing Oscar and Lily for lunch because I was in an emergency meeting. And by the time I got out of Red Bull's garage, it was nearing five at night and I hadn't had anything to eat or anything to drink after one water bottle and my headache still had gotten worse because of it.
And then got immediately swamped by reporters.
Luckily, I saved some class and patience and was able to make it through fine but by the time I got to McLaren's garage, I was about ready to snap at someone.
"Ollie!"
Thank god.
"Oscar." I hum as he wraps an arm around my shoulder, and then he makes a face as he notices just how exhausted I am.
"You guys had it rough today." He says and I just nod, rubbing at my jaw and rolling my neck as he steps back, leans over, and hands me a packet of some sort of assorted chocolates.
"I love you so much." I sigh as I open the packet and he laughs, dragging me further into the garage where everyone else is settled and just relaxing. McLaren had a really good day, both Lando and Oscar in Q1 and I can see everyone laughing and celebrating. A completely different feel from the tense garage at Red Bull. Lily gives me a tight hug when she sees me and urges me to come sit with her so we can catch up, we end up in a bit further and in a corner so we can have a bit of privacy. All is fine, and Lily is very quickly improving my mood as we giggle and share stories (and I happily answer all her questions about Lando and me) before we're approached by a guy I don't recognize.
"You guys need water?" He asks innocently, and though it's not extremely hot in Austria, I take one from his hands. Lily denies it, showing off the water bottle she's still drinking, and the guy seemingly just blips out.
"Weird." I hum, cracking open the water bottle and taking a sip of the cool liquid, "Never seen him before. Maybe he's new?"
"Or a volunteer?" Lily suggests and I shrug in response, eventually, Oscar comes over and wraps an arm around Lily's waist and she grins, popping a kiss on his cheek. Finally, the two of them were actually looking like a couple in public. Which, is probably what happens when two introverts start dating. I swear they didn't hold hands for months.
"Lando's being interviewed if you wanna wait for him for the media shit." Oscar pokes my hand and I pretend to flick the water bottle at him. The two of us make faces for a few seconds before I nod, taking another sip of my water bottle.
"Yeah, he and I are going out to eat again tonight. Andrea's idea." I sigh, looking over my shoulder where I can see Lando sitting with some people with a microphone in hand. I notice though it's not Sky, but rather ESPN, and I hum before turning back to Oscar and Lily and wishing them on their way. I pull out my phone, answering a few texts before someone walks up beside me. And it's the same guy from earlier.
"Oh. Hi." I say softly as he smiles at me, looking a little flustered for a second before he starts talking.
"Just wanted to say hello, I'm one of the mid-season hires. I'm an engineering assistant, Jordan." He held out his hand and I grinned, shaking his hand firmly.
"Olivia Piastri, Oscar's younger sister. I'm Red Bull's head analyst." I let go of his hand and Jordan nods, he wrings his hands before he continues talking and I feel the confidence he's trying to exhume here.
"Ah, I've seen a bit about you. Kinda hard to miss such a pretty face." Jordan grins, running a hand through his hair and tilting his head with a tiny grin. 
Is he flirting with me? Is this guy daft?
"Well, thank you. But uhm--" I look around the garage, hoping to maybe signal another person in the garage to come over and get me out of this just terribly awkward situation. Lando's wrapping up his interview, handing back his microphone and laughing softly as he shakes hands with the reporters. 
"Seriously, you're by far one of the most gorgeous girls I've seen." Jordan steps a bit closer and leans on the wall beside me with his body covering my view of the majority of the garage, "are you free tonight? I'd like to get to know you better."
I step back, putting myself back into the view of the garage as I try to keep my patience and shake my head no. I'd never had this issue before, how exactly does one stop unwanted advances? I'd never had to, I was never alone when these sorts of things happened to me. 
So, I stammer, "Ah, I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend and.."
"Ay, is he here? Because I don't see anyone staking their claim on you." Jordan grins and I tighten my grip on the water bottle and click my tongue against my teeth. Okay, if he was gonna be like that I could be bitchy too. I glance back across the room one final time, making eye contact with Jon who gives me a sharp nod, but I don't see Lando anymore. Which... could be good or bad.
"He works for McLaren, and is a part of your team, so you might wanna... not... flirt with me?" I turn back to Jordan, make an uncomfortable grimace at him, and end up tightly crossing my arms over my uniform shirt, "So..."
"Yeah, who's your boyfriend then?" Jordan hums, looking over, "Jon?"
"Me," A hand slides across my waist, fingers digging into my skin harsh enough to likely leave bruises as I'm tugged back into Lando's chest. With one hand still firm on my waist, his other hand comes to my jaw so he can turn me to press a soft kiss to my lips before he leans back and whispers, "Hi, baby."
"Hi, Nori." I smile, turning back to Jordan who raises an eyebrow. And I can already tell this is going to be terrible because he hasn't exactly backed down. I see a reporter tilt their camera at us, and I grip Lando's wrist to tell him to back off. But Lando stays close, and my cheeks tint red as Jordan starts to speak.
"Got yourself a good-lookin' girl there, Lando." Jordan grins, winking at me and making my skin crawl. Lando's hands tighten on my waist, pulling me into him a bit more if that's even possible, and now I'm not even mad that he's doing this anymore. I wanted to be doing anything else than being here.
"Mhm. Olivia's my girl, don't you know? She's been my girlfriend for a while, so why dont'cha step back?" Lando smiles, but his threat is not hidden very well. 
"Ay, it's all good Lando, I don't like to share my meals."
"Oh-kay!" I shout but Lando takes over, stepping around me to point at Jordan and get in his face. I see half the McLaren garage turn, and someone shouts to send the media out of the garage as the cameras scramble to try and take photos and videos of the altercation.
"If you know what's good for you--" Lando grits, eyes narrowing as Jordan smirks in his face. His confidence was a far cry from the scrawny guy who had walked up to me prior, Lando continues through his teeth, "You won't say anything like that again or I'll make sure you can't speak anymore."
"Sorry, man. Didn't realize this would piss you off so much," Jordan takes a step back, his smile making it known his apology was fake, and my tight grip on Lando's wrist makes it so he won't follow.
"Bye, Jordan," I say, voice soft but level. A sort of period to the end of whatever conversation Lando and Jordan had silently through their eyes before Jordan backed off and slipped into the crowd of McLaren officers off to the side. I keep my iron grip on Lando's wrist and he slowly turns around to look at me. At this point, my exhaustion and anger from the whole day is bubbling just under my skin. Unlike my twin, I was never good at completely holding myself back when I got like this.
"Lando." My tone comes out much colder than I'm expecting, and I grab his wrist again and forcefully tug him to my side as I hiss, "What the fuck was that?!"
"Did you hear what he said?"
"Yes! But was that worth threatening him?"
"What did you want me to do?" He said and when I peeked over his shoulder and saw everyone watching, I grabbed Lando by the collar and pulled him into Andrea's vacant office, slamming the door shut and pointing at him.
"I had it handled, okay?" I snap, "He was just being a jackass, you didn't have to threaten to make him unable to speak--Lando! Who the fuck says that?!"
"Did you have it handled? That was you having it handled?" Lando asks, incredulously, sitting on the edge of Andrea's desk as I stay at the door, using my heel to keep it closed just in case someone tried to push it open at any point since I knew the door didn't lock.
"You don't need to protect me like that, Lando, it's not your job!"
"It's not, I'm your boyfriend--" And the rest of what Lando says fizzles out in my head. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. The word that had been taunting me for weeks. Lando Norris, my boyfriend for the media. The boy who could never be mine. And something in my chest breaks, I can feel the tether finally snap, and I shout.
"No, you are not!" My volume surprises me, and I know McLaren can probably hear us immediately after saying it, so I drop my voice down to a hard snapping tone, "You aren't my boyfriend, Lando. You aren't! You can't be, no matter how much I love you, or you love me, or if we fall in love after all of this is over--you are not my boyfriend and you will never be because we can't be in love, Lando!"
"We can't? Who said that?!" He snaps back, "Do you think I've been doing all of this for media? For a fucking paycheck? God, no Ollie. I fell in love with you the first time Oscar brought you around! Do you think I agreed with this for a check? No, I agreed to that stupid contract because it's you! If it was anyone else I would've just walked the fuck out of that office, it's you I want, only you, only you, Olivia."
"But you know you can't have me, so why string me along like this? We can't be together, no matter what we want, we're gonna have to break up at some point! So why should we even try?" 
"Who cares what they say? Zak, Andrea, Christian? You're gonna let them run your life?" Lando steps closer to me, taking my jaw into his gentle hold, voice so soft I feel my heart drum against my lungs, "We do what they say, sure, but once we've completed that contractual obligation... can they tell us we can't ever be this again? Be... us, again?"
"I can't do this Lando," I whisper, bringing my hands to my chest and he steps back. The space between us suddenly felt so vast, and something in me clicked and I knew something irreversible was going to be said. That maybe I had started the downfall here, and Lando's hurt expression tells me I have.
He can only whisper, "Why?"
"I just..." I stammer, making a vague gesture to the room. There's no way for me to express the thousands of thoughts that race through my head, a constant loop of some F1 circuit of emotional mess slamming into every reasonable thought and fizzling out reason.
"Because you're scared of being loved? You're scared of what will happen if you fall in love?" Lando accuses and I can't answer those questions, because I am. I'm so scared. But not because of Lando. Because of media. So I shout the next best option.
"I never wanted the attention! I didn't become a driver because I can't handle the media like you all can! And yet I end up here, and--" I go to keep talking and Lando holds up a hand, shouting over me,
"Okay, then back out! You clearly want nothing to do with me, or this, or everything that's happening, so go tell Christian you're done!"
Silence. I swallow thickly because no. I don't want to be done. I want to fight tooth and nail for everything in this relationship, but also, was this what was best? Should I back out now, before everything we've done catches up to us? A hubris that needs to be checked? I knew from the beginning I was going to burn, but not like this. Never did I think it would be like this. 
"Olivia..." Lando whispers, and I feel something roll down my cheeks. I'm crying I realize. The world is blurry, my throat is dry, and I'm crying over a relationship I can now see we both want but... at least to me, we can never have.
Do I ask Christian..?
"No, Lando." I sigh, doting under my teary eyes, "This is why. This is why. We will end up here one day, and I can't do that. I... I'll talk to you later."
"Ollie, wait!"
I turn, leaving the office in a hurry. I shove through the McLaren workers who try to stop me and once I'm in the clear, I run. The Red Bull paddock isn't far and once I get there I can't breathe, shoving through people who now wear the same uniform as me. My office doesn't even feel safe, the flowers on my desk mocking me, and I grab them and in a fit of rage, I throw them across the room. It doesn't make the pain in my chest leave.
“Olivia!” Someone shouts and I turn, Christian just barely in the doorway. I shout, without thinking, without even pausing.
“I’m backing out! I’m done with that media stunt—!” And a hiccup breaks my sentence, “Get me out of it!”
“I—“
“—Now, Christian!”
The garage is silent after my scream, and poor Christian looks horrified as he nods, and shuts the door to my office. I let a shaky breath out as I realize what I’ve done is irreversible, but there’s so much pain in my whole heart I can’t tell if that’s what’s hurting me. I sink to my knees on the floor, a hand on my chest, a hand on the carpet, and I sob.
I don’t even know why I’m crying.
An arm is around my shoulder, a set of hands resting on my elbows as someone whispers to me. I don't even know who the people are when I look up, and the sight of both Max and Checo kneeling in front of me makes the tears double. At some point, Checo leaves, once I've calmed enough for Max to convince me to lay down with his jacket covering my legs as I hiccupped and slowed down my breathing with Max's hand applying solid pressure to my chest.
Charles and Daniel come back with Checo, who then leaves the room entirely, and I end up with my weird little mixed driver support group on the floor in my office.
Something so odd, something that should not be happening in any way, but yet here we are.
Somehow, one relationship shattering had made the other relationships in my life more clear. Relationships that had started casually and professionally, and ended up with me now having twenty or so brothers at this point. 
Brothers.
Just like Oscar.
-
Max drops me at Oscar's hotel room a few hours later when he returns from his date with Lily. She ends up going off on her own, with a few of the other WAGs, to give Oscar and me privacy. I settle on the couch, sipping a water bottle as Oscar looks out the window. I hadn't told anyone else what Lando and I had argued about, Max had kinda picked up on it as had Charles, but they had given me a berth. A space to explain. When I didn't take the invitation, they didn't try and pull me in to say anything. Which I appreciated beyond words.
"What happened?" Comes the soft voice of my twin. I knew Oscar wouldn't have been like them though. 
“I backed out,” I say, rubbing a hand along the fabric beneath me.
"What?" Oscar turns to face me, "You backed out?"
"Of the shit with Lando, I can't do it anymore. I can't have my emotions being toyed with like this anymore. And we both like each other but one day they're gonna come along and tell us we need to break up and we have to listen to them." I find a stray string in the couch stitching and begin picking it. My nails dig into them, making a slightly bigger hole. It feels like the way I'd ripped a hole into my own heart earlier.
"I had a feeling this was gonna happen." Oscar walks across the room to sit on the arm of the couch, looking over at me, "what happened?"
"I just had a shit day, and... and when this guy at McLaren started flirting excessively with me he got super overprotective and threatened the guy. Which... isn't the worst but he could've handled it better." I wave my hands, "But I had such a shit day I just blew up at him over it, and we fought, and he told me to back out if I couldn't handle it... and when I got back to Red Bull I just did it. I didn't even think and now I think I made a huge fuckin' mistake but I can't go back on it now."
"Could you talk to Christian? Ask him to wait?" Oscar hums, his hand coming up to card through my hair again and I melt into his touch as per usual.
"I dunno." I murmured, closing my eyes, "I just wanna sleep the rest of the day off."
"We can talk about it tomorrow after the race, okay?" He says, looking down at me before turning to look at his phone as it buzzes on the table. I look up at him and see his jaw tense, hand pausing on my head as he makes a face.
"Oh, Christ." He whispers, turning his phone to me. I climb up to sit next to him, eyes widening as I look over the post he shares and my stomach falls to my chest.
"This is not what Christian told me would happen," I whisper, Oscar's hand squeezing my upper arm in some sort of semblance of support. Of course, getting out of this mess with Lando wouldn't be easy.
Now I needed to talk to Christian. As soon as possible.
01 JULY, TWITTER ↴
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written by Julia Sine, 01 July, 2024.
Cars aren't the only thing racing down the track in Austria this weekend, so are some hearts! In an exclusive interview after the qualifier today, multiple McLaren and Red Bull workers spoke with reporter Julia Sine about what might become the next 'it couple' after Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift.
"Lando and I first spoke about it in Bahrain. He said the two of them have been close since Oscar's rookie season last year and he was worried Olivia's job would be at stake if their relationship ever leaked to the public," Steve Atkins, McLaren's Head of Communications explained while standing in the paddock with Chief Executive Officer Zak Brown and Team Principal Andrea Stella, "I went and spoke with Christian Horner, the Team Principal of [Oracle Red Bull Racing] and we agreed that since they were on separate teams, and Olivia was an analyst and not an engineer, there was no conflict of interest. Olivia did sign an NDA, just to make sure she wasn't leaking race information to Lando but it was never brought to our attention if Olivia and Lando ended up dating."
"If the two of them are dating, which again I've had nothing clarified to me if they are or aren't, I'd imagine they've been keeping it private due to concerns with the media and fans." 
"Olivia and Lando have a very unique connection, and we here at McLaren are all supportive of relations between teams. All our drivers are friends at the end of the day and we support [Lando and Oscar] being friends with any of the drivers outside of racing. However, I will say we have seen some tensions growing between our drivers and Red Bull." Andrea spoke with me and Zak right before leaving for a meeting, Zak agreed with Andrea, and he further stated, "A lot of the tension we've been seeing with Max and Lando on the track stems from this, in my opinion."
When I made my way to Red Bull to ask some more questions about the situation, I was only able to briefly speak with Alice McLoughlin, Red Bull's Head of Communications who said, "The relationships our staff members get into is not any of our business as long as it's not a conflict of interest or damaging to the staff member themselves. I have not been told if there is for certain a relationship, but if there is I wish both of them well but we will be waiting for their announcement before we decide anything.
read more online at popsugar.uk!
--
04 JULY, 2024 - MILTON KEYNES, UK.
My phone ringing breaks the three hour silence I've subjected myself to after my meeting with Christian and Ada. The meeting where I had said me wanting to back out of the contract was emotionally charged and said I no longer wanted to. Luckily, they hadn't started the process of backing me out of the contract yet, so it was pretty easy for me to stay.
Reaching over, I grab my phone and read the contact, pausing before lifting it to my ear, "Lando..?"
"Ollie, hey... uhm, how are you?" He sounds uncertain, almost like he wasn't sure if I was going to pick up. I can't blame him for thinking that, since our last conversation was that big fight.
"Tired." I admit, but don't say it's because I've lost sleep thinking I was going to lose him, "I'm working late again tonight."
"Oh, sorry... do you want me to call you later?" I hear what sounds like a gear shifting, and I briefly wonder if he's on his sim.
"No, I'm just uploading files. And your voice is honestly more welcome than the silence of a nearly empty Red Bull garage... why'd you call?" I turn to look out the windows at the slowly setting sun, watching as the world is beginning to be coated gold.
"I wanted to apologize for the whole thing with Jordan, I shouldn't have threatened him like that." Lando's words come out rushed and squishy, like he's holding out his heart and expecting me to step on it.
I like to imagine gently covering his heart, protecting it, as I speak softly, "No, no you're fine. I was having a shitty day and I took it out on you. I really should be the one apologizing, you didn't do anything wrong. You were protecting me. Thank you for that."
"Yeah, it's fine. I'd do it a thousand times." He says, then theres a long pause. It's not akward, if anything it allows me to feel the emotions roll through me-- embarrassment at my past behavior, nervousness for his call, and a sick sort of love building in my gut that I, for once, did not push away.
Finally, Lando whispers, "did you back out?"
"I was going to, but... I talked to Christian this morning when I was a bit more level headed and we agreed I'm gonna stay." I say, and I hear him sigh with relief. A small smile bubbles across my lips, letting the giddy feeling fill my body as I tap my toes along the floor and spin my chair.
"Can you come outside?" Lando's question catches me off guard.
"What?"
"Look out your window." He says, and I scramble up from my desk and walk to the big glass panes that cover my office, looking down into the mostly vacant parking lot and there he is.
"You are something else." I whisper, then look back at my computer. I could finish the work tomorrow, "I'll be down in ten."
I scramble to save my work, kicking off my work shoes for the actual nice YSL heels I'd worn in. Once they're secure on my feet, I touch up my makeup and spritz myself with perfume. The whole time I'm giggling to myself, smiling as I pack up my desk and then throw my belongings into my purse and find myself half running to the elevator. I hurry to text Oscar that I'll be back a bit later than expected as the floors ping, and when I hit the ground floor, I throw my phone in my bag without a care, clock out and scan out, and open the door to the cool night breeze rippling across my blushing, hot skin.
God, it was so good to let myself feel this raw emotions again.
Lando pushes himself off his car, hands still in his pockets, and I bee line to him. Luckily, he kinda gets the hint of what I'm asking, and his hands come to rest on my waist when I reach him.
I pause to put my purse on the hood of his car, and then grab his collar and pull his lips to mine.
He laughs into the kiss, our teeth briefly smashing before I right us and press in deep. His arms wrap around my waist and he tugs me closer, one hand sliding up the side of the dress shirt I wear before tangling its fingers in the hair at the base of my neck. When we pull back, briefly, I giggle as he peppers kisses to my hairline before pulling me back in.
"Fuck, I missed you." He whispers against my lips and I step back, just enough to see him--and he looks exhausted. My hands come to his face and he melts into my touch, almost like he's craving it.
"I missed you too." I murmur back, watching the way he holds his eyes shut. I can see the layers of stress physically peeling away from him and being swept away by the hand I raise to run through his curls and the other hand I slide down to apply that comforting firm pressure to the chest--right under his collarbones, and then his head falls to the crook of my neck. One innocent little peck placed on my collarbone that has me shiver.
We stand like that for a while. Two silent beings in the windy, cold, English night, and eventually I convince Lando to sit in his car when my thinly covered legs start to get cold. We end up just... driving. A silence enveloping us as I rest my head on his shoulder and he keeps that damn hand on my thigh. It's gonna be the death of me. He is going to be the death of me.
But, loving Lando Norris is a death I would welcome with open arms.
04 JULY -- INSTAGRAM ↴
OLIVIAPIASTRI MADE A NEW POST!
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen, and 145k others...
oliviapiastri: my pretty boy <3
landonorris: this mystery guy needs a haircut hes stealing my look >:(
⤷ oliviapiastri: you'll get over it
maxverstappen: i want u to know kelly shouted 'THANK GOD' when i showed her this post
oscarpiastri: OH SO THIS IS WHY YOU MISSED OUR FUCKING MOVIE NIGHT??
⤷ oscarpiastri: ANSWER ME HELLO?
⤷ oliviapiastri: BRO HOLD ON I AM DOING SOMEONE
⤷ opheliapiastri: OLIVIA????
⤷ oscarpiastri: HOLD THEFUCKON??? OLIVIA LOUISE RAY PIASTRI.
⤷ oaklynnpiastri: moment of silence for our mystery guy. oscar is approaching his location at rapid speeds.
⤷ landonorris: rip
⤷ oscarpiastri: shut.
⤷ oliviapiastri: @ oscarpiastri I MEANT SOMETYHIN. I MEANT TOT TYPE SOMETHING. DO NOT SHOW UP TO HIS HOUSE.
christianhorner: geri said 'good that little fucker didn't break her heart' and slammed the steak knife back into the knife holder.
⤷ oliviapiastri: OH MY GOD?? THANK U MOM?? @ gerihalliwell
⤷ gerihalliwell: of course :)! girls stick together!
09 JULY -- GREAT BRITAIN.
"Max, make sure you're giving space here. These turns can get tricky." I hear someone say in the radios, my hands fidgeting with my keychains as I watch the race on the screens, and then glance over to the sensors. All was running well, back tires a bit hot, but nothing we were concerned about.
"Ollie, tell your brothers best friend to get out of the way." Max frustratedly huffs and I laugh, leaning forward to speak into the comms.
"Logan is in P9, actually, not P1." I chime, luckily getting a soft chuckle from Max. We'd been doing exceptionally well this season as per usual, even if I had sort of stopped paying attention a bit. I did note the tensions between him and Lando were really high during this race. The two had been neck and neck since the beginning, and everytime they got a one-up on the other it just made them push harder. They had a pretty good gap between them and the rest of the racers, with Oscar holding his own in P3. It seemed like another weekend with those three on top, but at least watching this race was interesting.
The breaking sensors start flashing, indicating they're running too hot, so I chime, "Max, ease up on breaking. We might want to look into getting your tires swapped for mediums soon."
Max doesn't respond, but he does ease up on the breaking. Which makes me feel a bit better.
"Lando's coming in hot to the pit." Someone says, and I glance up over the computers and my eyebrows knit. He's driving weird. Like... almost as if he doesn't have control of steering. I see the safety car prepare for a possible departure and I stand, looking down at Max's sensors, and then someone shouting brings my attention back up.
"He can't stop!"
There was a moment where it felt like everything froze. My hands couldn’t find my mouth fast enough to hide my shock. Lando’s car slams probably two hundred kilometers into the barrier that leads into the pit lane and skids along the wall all the way inside the lane until it spins and slams into another one of the barriers. Red Bulls paddock is first in the pit this round, and I can see the smoke beginning to billow around Lando's car immediately once the car fully stops. People are shouting, McLaren engineers sort of straggling by the exit to the track as a yellow is waved, waiting for a command. I see Jon amongst them, shouting into his headset, and I hate the silence lets me hear his voice strain as he hollers,
"Lando! Lando, are you alright?"
I can't hear a response from the McLaren driver even if I strain my ears.
“Lando—come on.” I find myself saying, hearing Max and Checo on the radio asking for clarification of what happened, but also hearing someone say it was clear for people to go and get Lando out of a burning car. My headphones are yanked off my head and Christian’s hand firmly pushes me forward.
“Go.” Is all he has to say.
I’m running faster than I can carry myself, stumbling over numb legs as I sprint to the car. My hands scrape the concrete as I nearly fall, but I save myself the embarrassment of wiping out with a quick stumble and keep running. I can hear more people behind me as I climb up, holding onto the halo to stabilize myself.
“Lando!” I shout as I grab Lando’s helmet and slowly slide his head back as I start to detach him from his seat belts. Jon is there immediately, helping my shaky hands undo the devices. I keep looking at Lando's visor, trying to catch his eyes, but there’s no time to waste as I smell and hear the various engineers who'd run out trying to extinguish the car. I get one side of the belt off, starting to detach the hands device from the helmet by Jon's command when two hands grab my wrist.
Snapping my gaze up, I meet Lando’s eyes from where I’m sitting, one leg wrapped around the halo so I don’t fall, one hand on his neck as I hold the clasp to the hands device, the other on the back of the car as his eyes meet mine.
I’ve never seen Lando look so…terrified. His bright eyes are staring me down, pupils small and shaking as his grip tightens on me. I know my own eyes can’t look much different.
“Ollie?” He whispers and I shush him, detaching him from the car fully as I grab him by the shoulders.
“I got you, Nori. Jon and I got you.” I say softly, looking up to where other drivers are stopped on the track—standing up in their cars to get a better view, “get up so everyone knows you’re okay.”
Lando’s hands grab my shoulders, my hands sliding to his ribs as I slowly help him to his feet with Jon on standby. Medical and McLaren officials swarm around us, hands out and ready to help as I slowly unlatch my leg and slide off the side of the car. Lando’s weight on me is nearly crushing, but once we get him out he collapses even further into my arms in a cry of agony. Two hands find my back, medics reaching to grab Lando and I almost fight them in retaliation.
“Ollie!” someone shouts and I turn to see Jon running along to the medics side. I feel stuck, trying to swallow something that makes my eyes burn. Lando’s still got a vice grip on my wrist and when the medics try to separate us—it only tightens.
“Mr. Norris—“ The woman tries.
“Lando.” I finally find the courage to move forward, they’ve got him on a gurney now, trying to lay him back but he keeps fighting them. I can’t begin to understand why, “you’re okay. Let them take care of you.”
They tilt his visor up, and I gently lay him back, Jon reciting medical information over my head as they begin to assess his damage, still pulling us further away from the car which I note is now long extinguished. They stop us at McLaren's paddocks, Jon dipping inside to grab Lando's things as we wait for an ambulance to meet us here.
“Olivia.” I hear Lando’s muffled voice and I feel tears fill my eyes as I lean down, pressing my forehead to where his visor now lays and let out a shuttering sigh that makes my body ache just as much as my heart.
“You’ll be okay, Lando. But you have to let them help you.” I speak in a strained voice, feeling one of his hands come to wrap around my waist. I find his other hand and squeeze it, before that hand comes to rest under his helmet, “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“I don’t wanna go without you.” he whispers, my heart shattering into a thousand pieces at his soft plea for me to stay. But I know its useless.
"I'm so sorry, baby." The words feel forced out of my mouth with how much effort it takes it whisper them, "You gotta go. And I have to stay."
"Ollie, please..." He whispers, and I press a kiss to the spot on his helmet where his lips would be, then take his gloved hand on my waist and lift it to my lips and kiss his hidden knuckles. The barrier feels unfair, but I'm doing what I can.
"As soon as I can be, I will be by your side." I say as Jon reappears, the ambulance coming up screaming besides us.
"You promise?" Lando says under the sirens and the shouting and I nod.
"I swear on my life."
That's what ends up being enough, because Lando finally lets go of me after one more final kiss to the 'mouth' of his helmet. The medics and EMTs swarm us, carefully moving Lando who groans and gasps in pain. I can't imagine what injuries he might have as they slowly and carefully load him into the back of the ambulance. Jon speaks with Lando all the while, and right before the doors slam he turns to me and shouts,
"I've got him, Olivia!"
And all I can do is nod, blinking back tears as the doors shut. The second they're pulling away I find myself crying, full body shaking that wrecks me, and I manage to be pulled into the sanctuary of the Red Bull garage by Kylie and a few other employees before it can really be taken advantage of for media points.
But I know I'll keep on my promise. Especially when Christian tells me to just do one thing.
"Go."
taglist (thank you!)
@harrysdimple05 @charli123456789 @fangirl125reader @dark-night-sky-99 @starmanv @ophcelia @buendiabebeta
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em-harlsnow · 3 months
Note
em idk if ur still doing those tiktok trend requests but my god the "can you watch my boyfriend real quick?" trend is making me SCREAM, i think you would have fun with that one! 💗
hello!!! yes i am still doing it whenever I see one I like. I love this trend, it’s so funny!
Ian may have tiktok, but he’s not very social media oriented in general. Mickey gets nervous when people post pictures of him online anyway because of the cartel, even though Ian’s like 90% sure they won’t see Carl’s twitter with 11 followers.
But then there’s a trend he sees, and he can’t not do it. He just has to try it on Mickey and if that means forcing him in front of a camera, so be it. It’s not like he’ll post it.
Mickey’s eating breakfast in the kitchen when Ian sees the trend and it’s the perfect opportunity. He clicks onto his camera app and starts recording, propping it up in front of Mickey on a candle and making sure he can see that it’s filming.
“Fuck is this?” Mickey asks with his mouth full.
Ian ignores him, instead speaking to his phone. “I need to go out for a bit, can you watch my husband?” He says, smirking, and tussles Mickey’s hair when he starts to leave.
Mickey waves his arms around, clearly confused. “Where the fuck are you going?”
“Grocery shopping, don’t turn off the camera.” Ian calls back, half way out the door.
“Is this some kind of freaky role play?” He hears Mickey yell after him, but he’s already gone.
//
Mickey’s husband is an idiot.
Once he’s gone and has neither confirmed nor denied that this is a weird role play thing, Mickey glances suspiciously at the camera.
“What the fuck?” He mutters to the empty apartment. “He’s a fucking weirdo.”
He continues eating, finishing his cereal but it’s weird being watched by Ian’s stupid phone.
“Uh… I’m eating my niece’s Froot Loops.” He tells it, holding up his spoon to show the camera. “Ian says I eat like a twelve year old, but Ian eats like a 90 year old so he can’t fucking talk.”
The phone doesn’t reply, just records him silently.
Mickey sighs, tapping his fingers in the counter. “Why’s he always got me doing shit like this?”
He makes eye contact with the camera and glares at it. “This is stupid.” Blowing out a breath, he tries to figure out what Ian wants him to do with this. As he does, he twists his ring around his finger and it gives him an idea. Slipping it off, he presents it to the camera. “See this? This is our wedding ring. We got it engraved last year. Fuck, Ian’s gonna love that I’m talking about his stupid sappy shit. Mine has IG on the inside and his has MM, because he’s soft as fuck.” Even as Mickey mocks him, there’s a shining happiness in his eyes.
Something else catches his eye, and he gets up to grab the flower bouquet on the kitchen counter, bringing it over to the phone. “Look. I got the asshole these. Blue roses. I think they’re fake or they were painted or some shit, but still.”
He sighs again, wondering what else he can show the camera. “I’m tryna find out what he got me for my birthday. I figure he must have hidden it somewhere around here but i can’t find it. Ian won’t tell me.” Mickey leans in close then, whispering at the camera. “Between you and me, I think he’s got it stashed at Lip’s house. But I got it covered, I’ll find it. I got a plan-“
The sounds of keys turning in the lock interrupts him, and he looks to the door guiltily. When Ian comes in, they grin at each other and then Ian kisses Mickey’s head.
Addressing the camera, he says, “I hope he was well behaved.” And then stops recording, watching Mickey roll his eyes.
“What was the point in that, man?”
Ian shrugs, and looks forward to watching it back.
—> send me a tiktok trend and i’ll write a fic!
-> also let me know if you want ian’s reaction to the video
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cameronspecial · 7 months
Text
Assisting In Deception (Part 10)
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Sexual Jokes
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 4.1K 
Summary: Can Rafe do whatever he can to get his happily ever after with Y/N?
A/N: This is the final part and I hope you enjoy it! I am going to miss writing for these two because I love their dynamic.
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The news had gotten out, not only about Y/N and Rafe’s break up but also about their relationship being only for the media and wedding. A lower-level lawyer at Cameron Development had found their contract and after the breakup was made public by someone at the company, she thought it was a good time for a payday. In true media fashion, Y/N was crucified for being a whore and materialistic, while Rafe was praised for being such a great boyfriend to her even when the relationship was fake. The double standard bothers Rafe way more than it did Y/N. She has finally learned not to take anything to heart. Rafe on the other hand knows how much those labels sunk into her skin, especially since he called her those exact same things. He has done every single possible interview he could to clear her name, but no outlet would really listen to his words. 
Not to mention, his father’s anger just adds to his feeling of guilt. Ward screamed about how Rafe could treat her that way and he should’ve made the relationship real as soon as he knew he was falling for her. Ward wasn’t upset at the lie; instead, his feelings were more focused on the fact that his son had let love go.
Rafe is going to get her back though and this is the only thing he has ever been a hundred percent sure about in his entire life. The long days without the refreshing smell of strawberry shampoo and the long nights without the soft whispers from her sleeping lips are driving him insane. Every morning and night he reaches out to pull her into his warmth, always being left empty-handed. 
He thinks of a thousand ways to make it up to her, but he doesn’t know what to do. He decides to go to the one person who he knows could help him with her. “Juni, please talk to me. I need your help,” he begs, wedging his foot between the door and its frame to stop it from shutting in his face. The shorter girl shakes her head, “She is very angry at you. I don’t know what I can do for you. We both know she doesn’t mess around and that’s exactly what you did, Big C” His eyes flicker to the carpeted floors of the hallway, dragging his left foot back and forth across it. “You don’t need to think about anything. I just need you to send her food every week. I’ll give you my card number so you can charge it to me because I know she won’t take it if I put my name on it,” he states. His hand reaches into his pocket to pull out his card. Her head tilts and her eyebrows frow together to become one.
“If this is about getting her back, then what’s the point of sending her the food without your name?” 
“It’s not about her forgiving me or taking me back. I just want to make sure that she can still eat out. I know she’ll get frugal about her money while she is figuring out a new budget with her new income and she won’t factor in getting take-out into her budget until everything else is taken care of. Her accountant degree will definitely kick in.” 
“That’s really sweet. And I know what you mean, she’s already started cutting her own expenses on groceries. I’ve never seen her go more than a day without having coffee from the shop downstairs. It’s weird.” 
“Exactly, so do it for me, please. I just want her to be happy and cared for.”
“Fine, you are lucky that I was rooting for you guys.” 
“Thank you! Thank you so much! Let me know if you guys need anything else, okay? Nothing is too big.” 
“I know Y/N needs a trip to Cabo, but under my name.” 
He gives her a playful smile with the tilt of his head. She shrugs, “I tried. Let me know if you need any help with your plan.” Rafe nods at her offer. “I will. Thank you again,” he says, walking away from the apartment after their goodbyes. 
——
Y/N sits at her desk looking at the number on her screen. They start to merge together and she wants to bang her head against the wall. She got a job as an accountant’s assistant and she is not exactly thrilled with it, but it made the most sense because of her degree. She needed a job and she didn’t have the time to try to figure out what is the right career for her. Her boss has gone to lunch but needed her to stay behind to finish up this budget. 
The noise from the door draws her focus to Lydia, the secretary for the office. Nutmeg and parsley fill the room with its aroma. Her mouth salivates as it smells exactly like her favourite creamy mushroom gnocchi. The brown bag with a familiar logo sits in Lydia’s hand. “A delivery guy brought this over. Said it was from Juni,” she explains, placing it on her desk before exiting. Y/N grins at the bag and her hands draw together near her chest. Her shoulders sway from side to side in a little dance. She opens the bag, letting the food overwhelm her senses. With her phone in hand, she takes a selfie of herself hovering over the food and sends it to Juni with a thank you. The food hits her taste buds and she wants to melt as the creamy goodness settles in. 
——
“Sir, all of your meetings, appointments and business dinners are on your calendar. I took the liberty of decolour-coding the calendar and rearranged it in a manner that each happens in the same time frame every day. It makes more sense like that. All your meetings are arranged in the afternoon. Appointments in the mornings. And obviously the business dinners in the evening,” Ricardo debriefs, showing Rafe with his tablet what he meant. Rafe isn’t too pleased that Ricardo changed Y/N’s system, but he knows it’s because he is holding on to any piece of her he can. It isn’t Ricardo’s fault that she left. Rafe acknowledges he heard his assistant, “Okay, sounds good. Thank you. You may go back to your desk now.” 
Ricardo does as he is told and heads to his desk. The ding from Rafe’s phone immediately attracts his attention. He scrambles to pull it out of his pocket and opens the text from Juni. The screenshot she sent makes the clock stop spinning for just a second. The smile on Y/N’s face is enchanting and he wishes he saw the little dance he knew she did after taking the food out. He sends a thank you back and practically begs her to send him the actual photo so that he can save it to his camera roll. Once she does, he lets out a sigh of happiness. This is who he is trying to fight to get back. 
——
How do you make up for pushing your not-real girlfriend, but the girl you are totally in love with, away is not a Google search that has a lot of results. Something big and grand would scare her away. Something small and intimate doesn’t feel like enough. And there really isn’t a middle ground when it comes to gestures. He always defaults to food, so he wants to do something different from his norm. The sounds of his socked feet dragging against the hardwood floor bounce off of the walls as he paces the room. His head darts to the space over his bed and he stops. He takes in the painting he bought from Nancy. Each stroke comes together to show the emotions he felt at that moment and he knows the perfect way to prove to Y/N what he feels for her. 
——
When she opens the door, Nancy isn’t expecting to see her sister’s fake ex-boyfriend standing behind it. “What do you want?” she growls, crossing her arms. It is clear that her crush on him is gone with the way he upset Y/N. He looks at her with pleading eyes, “Hey Little Artist, I need your help. Please.” Her cheeks start to redden, but he can tell that it isn’t because of embarrassment or her small crush. 
“Why should I help you? You called my sister a gold digger. Do you know how much she is hurting right now? If anything I should be trying to figure out how to hide your body.”
“I know. I’m sorry that I hurt her and I want to tell her this too. I just need your help with how I execute this apology.”
“Well, I don’t want to.”
“Little Artist, please. I love your sister so much and I can’t handle knowing that I’ve made her feel bad about herself. I just want to apologize and show her her worth again. If she tells me to get lost after I do, then I promise she will never hear or see me again. I just want her to be happy.”
Nancy looks him in the eyes and her anger lessens at what she sees. Rafe is practically in tears at the thought of what he has done. His words have really hit home for her. “Fine, I’ll help you. But you are buying me food.” 
“Wow, you really do take after your sister.” 
——
Nancy watches over his shoulder as he sketches onto the canvas. The look she makes at the outline causes him to turn towards him. “What did I do wrong?” he asks, immediately erasing the mark he just made. Her hand stops his movement, “No, it’s not that. It’s just that this is great and all, but you aren’t capturing anything deep. I don’t feel the emotion you are trying to convey right now. Just make sure when you are painting to try to bring what you are trying to say to life. But don’t worry about it for now.” He takes in her advice and keeps doing what he is told. 
The next day he starts painting. He is a lot more nervous about making the first mark than he thought he would be. “Would you stop being a big baby and just start?” Nancy complains, trying to push the paintbrush in his hand onto the canvas. His strength halts her attempt, “No, I can’t. I have to make this perfect, Little Artist. I need to show your sister how sorry I am.” “Trying to make it perfect isn’t going to work. The raw emotion you put into it is what is going to make it perfect. So turn your brain off and start,” she commands. She goes over to her own canvas to do some work. He takes a deep breath and takes a leap of fate in himself by completing the first stroke. 
——
For weeks, Juni has been sending Y/N food every single day at the office. Y/N has tried to tell her that leftovers are okay to eat for lunch, but she doesn’t appear to listen. Y/N questioned how Juni could’ve gotten the money and was met with the promise that her work has added a lunch plan for two in her contract. This doesn’t sound any bit true to Y/N, but she goes along with the lie. The headphones over her ears make her oblivious to the world around her. She opens the door to the dark apartment, grooving to the music. The routine she moves through when she gets home goes smoothly until she gets to her bedroom. 
The thin large square package leaning against her bed is not a part of that routine. She approaches the gift, looking for any indication of who sent it or how it got into her room. Her first thought is to ask Juni if she knows anything and is met with the answer to her question. You got a package this morning when you left. I brought it into your room, Sweetie. This eases her worry that someone has broken into her room. She puts her purse away and starts tearing into the wrapping paper. The painting she finds brings tears to her eyes. Years of living with Nancy means Y/N knows a little bit about painting, so she knows the technique is nowhere near perfect. Yet, the meaning it is trying to convey is clear to the woman. She can feel the emotion he felt while he painted it. There could only be one person who made this for her. 
The subject of the painting: her, specifically from a picture of her when they went to Greece. They had found a little cafe near the beach and she was completely in love with the saragli and baklava he bought her. She was too occupied enjoying the nutty and sticky pastry to notice him taking her picture. The painting isn’t a good likeness to her. Her nose is a little too close to her lips and her eyes are wider apart than in actuality, but the lighting tells her everything she needs to know. She remembers the picture vividly and knows that it isn’t accurate to the day. Instead, the light paints her in a golden light that makes her look ethereal. The love he feels for her comes across with every golden stroke on the canvas. Her anger starts to vanish. 
She doesn’t know how she knows, but she heads to the front door. Y/N opens the door to find Rafe waiting with bubble tea in his hand. “The painting was amazing. It doesn’t make up for what you said though,” she comments, moving out of the way for him to come in. He does and sets the drinks on the kitchen island, “I know. I was hoping the bubble tea would make up for the rest of it.” 
“You and I both know that’s not what I am waiting for, Boss.”
“I know… I’m sorry, Butterfly. I have never thought that you were a gold digger. I was hurting because I didn’t like seeing you with another guy.”
“Just because you are hurting, it doesn’t mean you get to hurt me.” 
“That’s true. And I want to prove to you that I don’t truly think those things. But I’m going to have to be around you for that to happen. So if you feel the same way about me as I think you do, then please let me back into your life. I missed your excited squeals about food or watching you play with Dax. He misses you too you know.” 
“I miss him too. I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you.” 
He steps toward her, reaching for her hand. His fingertips graze hers before she lets his large hand envelop hers. His lips brush the shell of her ear, “I am prepared to wait for eternity to get you back.” Her eyebrows form a caterpillar as she gives him a trying look. “What if it takes an eternity and one day?” she pushes. His other arm pulls her flush against his chest by the waist, “I’d beg on my knees an eternity and a hundred days if you want.” “On your knees, huh? How about on your knees between my thighs?” Y/N whispers, lips ghosting his. She can basically feel his lips on hers. “I thought I was apologizing to you? But I’ll be on my knees between wherever you want. So, are we going to give me another chance?” 
“I think I have to think about it.” 
He chuckles at her playful tone, “Well, I hope you don’t mind me doing this.” She takes the lead and brings his lips to hers. Their lips move in tandem like a well-oiled machine. Her hands twist in his hair and he plays with the bottom of hers. This is where they are meant to be. She is who he is meant to be with. 
——
A year. A year of bliss as her official boyfriend. Although Rafe likes to count the time they spent faking dating as the start of their relationship, he knows Y/N likes the beginning of their relationship to be the day she found his painting in her room. She believes it’s more romantic that way. Now, she’s spent the last six months living in his apartment with him. He gets to wake up every day with her and go to sleep beside her every night. 
After they got together, Y/N didn’t go back to work for him and he completely understood why. She wanted to find someplace for herself in the world, which she did. Her love of food turned into an Instagram account reviewing different places around the city. It’s grown quite the following, but nothing so great that she would quit her job as an assistant accountant. Rafe insisted that he would take care of her while she pursued this passion, but ever the planner she is, she said that she wants a steady income to make some savings for herself first. Plus, accounting is a little more bearable when she can devour delicious food for money after work. 
Y/N is away at a work conference for the week and the empty house makes Rafe feel a little lonely. Dax keeps him company, but waking up the first day she is away is normally the hardest for him. Over the last six months of living together, they have grown into a well-synced routine with each other that is currently broken. Rafe would normally wake up earlier than needed so they could get ready for work together and he could drive her to her office before he gets to work himself. He tried offering to buy her a car, but she is very keen on saving up for one herself and he is not about to take away her independence. He sadly walks to the bathroom, getting ready to brush his teeth by himself. His hand reaches for the toothbrush and is met with the sound of paper rustling against his finger. He looks down to see a Post-it note on his toothbrush: I’m sorry I had to go away for work, but I love you, always, Boss. He smiles at the little note and feels his mood start to lift immediately. 
The next note he finds is in his car. The sun was in his eyes while he was getting ready to pull out of the parking spot, so he put down the sun visor, only for a small paper square to float down onto his lap. Did you know that 90% of drivers sing behind the wheel? So sing your heart out to Call Me Maybe, Boss. He loves it when she gives him random facts. He opens his phone case so he can keep it safe to put it with all the others. He’s kept every single Post-it note she has ever written for him, even the ones she wrote when she started as his assistant. 
By the third note, he guesses that the rest of the time that Y/N is away he is just going to be finding them everywhere. Ricardo walks in like he normally does every morning to give him a detailed rundown of his day. “The last thing of note is that Ms. Y/L/N has ordered me to give you this today,” Ricardo finishes, handing Rafe a blue piece of paper. He waits for Ricardo to leave before reading it. What do you call a butterfly that can fly faster than any other butterfly? A betterfly. He laughs at the horrible joke and texts her the laughing emoji. He knows she’ll know why without any context. He waits for a response and receives the kissy face emoji. 
He gets home from work and is getting ready to feed Dax when he finds the next one. He doesn’t know how he didn’t notice the note sticking to the jar when he fed Dax this morning but he shrugs it off. Confusion crosses his face when he reads it though. Hi Daddy, Mommy wanted to let you know that I’m not going to be an only child soon. Love, Dax. Why in the world would Dax not be an only child soon? Is this her way of telling him she is adopting another dog? Dax whines for the food and snaps him out of his thoughts. He’ll just have to call her later to ask. 
The phone call he plans to make gets quickly forgotten and he is watching TV at the moment. However, Dax’s scratching at one of the guest bedroom doors removes Rafe from the couch. He goes upstairs to see what is going on, opening the door to see what Dax wants. The dog immediately enters the room and hops on the bed to his favourite chew toy that has somehow got in there. He heads over to take the toy into the living room so he can keep an eye on Dax. He stops at the contrast of the bright pink sticky notes against the light gray sheets. “Huh, why would mommy leave a note here? We never go in here,” he asks the occupied dog. Rafe takes a second and remembers the last time this room was used. It was the first-night Y/N had ever stayed over at his house. His hand hesitantly picks up the note and this time he isn’t met with words but a drawing.
The drawing is of a woman without a clear view of her face because her hair is blocking it. She is looking down at her round belly with her hands placed lovingly on it. Rafe’s first thought is that there is no way Y/N drew this because she can barely draw stick figures this well. Then the dots start to connect. The note before this one. The complaints that her favourite foods are repulsing her. The crying at every animal commercial. The little belly weight she gained that he just chalked up to being because he read in one article that the extra weight gained at the beginning of a new relationship means they are happy and he isn’t displeased by that fact. His happiness quickly turns to upset that she isn’t here to celebrate the news with her.
His hands clumsily fish for his phone in his pocket and he goes to dial her number. When the ringing comes from behind, he freezes all movement. He slowly turns around to see her standing with a massive grin on her face. His phone drops to the floor and he doesn’t care that a massive crack noise sounds throughout the room. He runs to her, taking her into his arms. He lifts her up from the ground and spins her in excitement. Her giggles send pure joy through him. “We are having a baby!” he exclaims, finally letting her two feet find the ground again. She takes his chin into her hand so she can look into his eyes, “We are.” 
“I can’t believe it. We have so much to do. I have to go to the store so we can repaint this room. Actually, we should hire someone to paint a mural. And we have to pick out the crib, a new dresser, a diaper gen-”
“Woah, woah, woah, Boss. Slow down a little. The baby isn’t coming for another nine months. And I thought I was supposed to be the planner.”
“You are right. I’m just really excited. I literally just found out about them and they are just the size of like a pea, but I already love them as much as I love their mommy. I can’t help it.” 
“I love you too and I can’t wait to meet them too.” 
The couple takes a moment to just look at each other in their eyes, conveying all their emotions and thoughts. The baby was not planned, but it is clear to both of them that the baby is still very much wanted. They smile at this communication and kiss each other for the first time since she got home. For once in her life, Y/N Y/L/N took a chance on love and look where she is now. She never looked back on that decision to let go of her fear of commitment because it led her to not only her first love of her life but to her second one as well. 
Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @aprilrudgate @loving-and-dreaming @thepatriarchykeychain @maybankslover @abbybarnesstuff @wh0reforbucknasty @spencereidbasis @drewsmusee @starkowswife @mskezza @h34rtsformilli @ijustwanttoreadlols @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @bellbottombaby @jaydaaasworld
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notforyounorme · 2 months
Text
Ominous • 1: Just breath
Dark Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
This is a dark fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given! Please DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you in any way. This is fiction, but can be disturbing to some readers. These warnings are not exhaustive, read at your own risk.
Series masterlist | Main masterlist
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Warnings: this fic will include content such as mention of Death, swearing
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You see your mother standing next to the garage waving your way as you park the Harley behind your mothers car. She gives you the biggest smile as she walks up to you, her only daughter.
"There you are, honey. You're late! We were getting worried you wouldn't make it again." Pauline Johnson tells her daughter, giving you another quick hug. Darlene smiles as she puts her head on top of her mothers. The small woman scoffs before pulling back with a smirk. "Don't do that! You know I hate it when you show of your taller than me."
"Sorry, mom." You say as you throw a smirk your mothers way. "Couldn't help myself. Sorry, I'm late though. Len needed a hand with a new customer. Car broke down half a mile down Pine road."
You looks down at your slightly greasy hands, being a mechanic isn't the cleanest job but it sure does make her happy. And it pays the bills.
Pauline huffs. "That man needs to do his own job himself, honey."
"You know he's still rocking that brace around his wrist, mom. Means he can't quite hook the cars up right now. Not even allowed to drive. Hank drops him off every day."
"All right, all right. In you go now. Aaron and Trent probably ate half the food already. You know how your brother and uncle get, dear." Your mother tells you with a cheeky smile on her face.
You let out a laugh as you follow your mother up the pathway to the front door. With a twist of the knob the door opens 'That's weird she always locks it. No matter how far out the door she goes.' The thought runs through your head like a small headache and you simply shrug and shake it off. 'She might forgot to do it.'
The sqeek of the leather of your boots sounds through the entrance as you step inside to follow your mom, well the smell of the food, down the narrow hallway. Passing all the picture frames holding bits and pieces of her childhood and pictures of family and friends.
Pauline opens the kitchen door and steps slightly to the side so she can let her daughter pass. "Smells amazing, mom! Let me guess your famous chicken in cream sauce and garlic pasta?"
"As promised." Your mother sings. "Even put in some cream cheese. Just the way you like it." She tells your with a wink.
"Where's dad?" You asks her as she turns to face the rest the kitchen-dining room, the open space dimly lit by some candles here and there. Your eyes glance over the empty chair your father always had his ass pressed on. She looks at the two males sitting at the table. Your uncle Trent Johnson, your father's brother, taking a sip of his beer as he brings the bottle to his lips. Next to him is your younger brother, Aaron Junior, nearly breathing in the delicious pasta on his plate. Neither of them acknowledging you, your mother nor your father missing from his seat.
Suddenly your mother puts a hand on your shoulder. "Honey, what are you talking about? Your dad's been dead for months. Now grab a plate. Aaron is nearly eating all of it." She giggles.
"What?" You turn to her in shock. "What the hell you're talking about? I saw him yesterday. Don't say shit like that ,mom!"
"Don't be silly, honey. You were there when your uncle shot him right here." Your mother says as she taps her finger right between your eyes. The glint in her eyes making her look as insane as her words.
Everything feels off. A feeling of dread filling you up slowly as you once again glance around the room, which doesn't even feel the same anymore. The wallpaper slowly dropping from the walls, food rotting away and the smell of death filling your nostrils makes you gag, all the while your mother just smiles at you. "Come on now, honey. Let's eat."
Before you know what's happening, your mother grabs your head, teeth snapping beside your ear. She drags her daughter to the ground and sits on top of your body and for such a small lady she sure does have strength.
That's when you see it. The death look in your mothers eyes, like a white glaze covering her once deep honey eye colour. And the large bite mark on her neck still bleeding while her skin is rotting away. Your mother, or whatever this is, grabs a hold of your left shoulder trying to push you down while snapping her teeth as if she wants to take a bite.
Another hand on your right shoulder is the one that makes you snap your eyes open. A gasp leaving your mouth as you sit up so fast your head spins.
"Shhh... It's okay. It's just a nightmare, Pop. You're okay." Your brothers soft voice brings you back to reality. Breaths becoming more steady. "That's it. Breathe."
"I'm fine." You stutter out. The nightmare rolling to the back of your mind as you look up at your brother. "Thanks." You softly smile.
"Tell me about it."
"I'm fine, AJ. No need to worry about a silly bad dream." You huff, a scoff nearly leaving your lips at the worried look on your brothers face. You look around the small cabin you found, hidden away in the woods, looking for anything else other than your brothers worried puppy look. The only look that could make you break and cry while you need to be strong and tough for him.
Even though he is only three years younger, it doesn't mean he is any less your younger brother. Little brother even. You would always be there for AJ, protecting him even if it means risking your own life. Nothing more important than the safety of one of the two only family members you have left.
And not a day goes by where you feel regret for not being able to save your mother and father.
Aaron sighs before turning back to his book. "Unc should be back soon. He went out looking for food."
"And you let him go out alone?!"
"Like he would let me leave you here alone to go with him. You know how he gets, sis."
"Of course not! You should have woken me up then. I could have gone with him, you little douche."
"Yeah, right. Bitch." Aaron says before lifting his hand to turn a page. "This I quite the story."
"Of course it is. You've known it from the back of your hand ever since you were young, AJ." You laugh. "I mean, can't quite blame you. Harry Potter is a good book to let your mind just drift away to better places. We sure not one of those." Both of them laugh slightly to the comment.
You stand up slowly. The popping of your bones is causing chills to run down Aaron's spine. He always hated that sound. And You, being the big sister you are, always teased him by popping them on purpose. You could remember your mother scolding you while your father laughed it off. "Perfect definition of brother and sister." He always used to say.
How you missed them both.
The sudden sound of footsteps nearing the door made both of you look up. Aaron reaches for the machete laying next to him while you grab the hunting knife from it's holster on your thigh.
Three knocks, then two then four signals the two of you it's your uncle. He turns the knob slowly before opening the door and stepping in. "Good you're both up." His gruff voice says. He turns slightly to close the door behind him. Taking a deep breath in trying to catch his breath.
"You ran here? What happened?" You ask Trent. In the corner of her eyes she can see her brother standing up slowly. "Are you hurt?" But your uncle shakes his head.
"You both are never gonna believe what I found."
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thepixelelf · 8 months
Note
do u know nct?? if so, jung jaehyun and cupid au?!!! if not then au where wonwoo is a regular dude and also the subject of a Prophecy against his best wishes? idk i hope these are fun!!!
I genuinely don't think I could characterize jung jaehyun if I tried... but I can do reluctant Normal Guy wonwoo!! I hope you like it :]
[mr chosen one] It's been three weeks and six days since Wonwoo met the most annoying person in the world. Three weeks and six days since Wonwoo's been able to relax. Three weeks and six days of your constant pestering.
You call yourself the oracle. Whatever the hell that means.
All Wonwoo knows is that you showed up at his workplace out of nowhere as the "social media manager". Why would a company that sells Tupperware need a social media manager? Wonwoo still doesn't know. He's pretty sure you just wormed your way in to complete your life's mission-- annoying the shit out of him.
The first day, you'd leaned into his cubicle and whispered, "Hey. You're Jeon Wonwoo, right?"
And when he hesitantly nodded, wondering how the hell you already knew his name since he was one hundred percent sure he'd have nothing to do with the company's social media, you beamed.
Smiled so bright he thought he might go blind, and said, "I knew I'd find you."
Ever since that first day, you've been telling him over and over again how he's supposed to save the world.
Step number 1: find the king -- whoever that is -- in the heart of the fire.
You haven't told him who the hell "the king" is because apparently, you don't even know. And the whole "heart of the fire" thing is fuzzy to you as well, even though you're the one who said that out loud in the first place.
Step number 2: behead the king.
Yeah. Sure.
"And where am I supposed to get the sword for that?" he asked you nonchalantly a week into your nonsense, his eyes not leaving the spreadsheet he was working on. "Amazon?"
You just shrugged. "You can get anything on Amazon."
Step number 3: bear the crown under the weight of stars.
Whatever that means.
"You can't just say no," you asserted two weeks in. "This is your fate."
"I'm good, thanks." Wonwoo poured himself a mediocre black coffee in the break room, where he'd gone in the hopes of avoiding you. He didn't offer you any.
You crossed your arms. "The world is at stake."
"If the whole world is about to explode, I'm pretty sure you've got the wrong guy."
Almost four weeks of this weirdness, and maybe Wonwoo should've gone to HR by now, but it sounds a little trivial, even to him.
Hey, HR, my coworker keeps telling me I'm part of a world-saving prophecy and is convinced I need to go on a journey. I want either for them to be fired, or a couple weeks off so I can go save the world. Thanks.
Yeah, no. Instead, Wonwoo just braces himself for another day of your pestering.
...Which doesn't happen.
At the halfway point of the first peaceful lunch break Wonwoo's had in weeks, he realizes he hasn't even caught a glimpse of you all morning. He revels in that feeling for a bit, almost embarrassingly gleeful to sit in silence and eat his cup-a-noodles.
Then the afternoon goes by, and you've still yet to meet your annoyance quota for the day.
Wonwoo is happy. Yes. This is good news.
You've finally gotten over your delusions, and he won't have to deal with you anymore.
He's poking his head in Seungkwan's cubicle before he realizes he's doing it.
"Oh, them?" Seungkwan says when Wonwoo asks about you. "They left. They told big boss man we had no reason to employ a social media manager in the first place and got themselves transferred to a sister company."
Wonwoo blinks. "What?"
"Shouldn't you already know? You guys were hanging out like every day."
After that, Wonwoo walks back to his desk in silence. Awkward silence.
Why doesn't he like the silence?
When he sits down, there's a yellow sticky note on his keyboard, which he swears wasn't there when he left.
He wouldn't recognize your handwriting, but he knows it has to be yours.
Fine. I'll behead the king myself.
Wonwoo pinches the note between his fingers, and he remembers the conversation he had with you just the day before.
"It sounds dangerous," he said, focusing on the photocopier in front of him.
"Oh, it will be." You were leaned against the doorjamb. Always close by. "You'll be dodging death at every curve in the road."
"Delightful. I think I'll sit this one out."
The note gets crumpled in Wonwoo's fist. He grabs his coat and takes swift steps toward the elevators.
"Where are you going?" Seungkwan calls out when he sees Wonwoo practically run past his cubicle.
Wonwoo presses the down button before he rethinks and moves to the doors to the stairwell. He yells back, "I have no idea!"
He really doesn't.
But you said all that stuff about fate-- if it's really meant to be him that saves the world...
His footsteps, in whichever direction, will take him to you. Through fate or whatever.
At least, he really, really hopes so.
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jakeysbuttsheeks · 9 months
Text
Godfather | v
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Pairings: Jake X fem reader
Warnings: profanity, age gap , mature themes, mentions of ; drug use , eating disorders, substance use , death of parent , orphaning , other weird shit
Masterlist
2 weeks had passed since you started working with the band's staff. You met so many new people. You got in contact with the band's photographers , editors , managers.
Since you were young and exposed to social media more than the others , they practically put you in charge of all Greta's social accounts, ofcourse you had to check in with their manager before you did anything.
You were quite enjoying it. You had a easy ride to work and a fun job with fun people. You couldn't be more greatful to Jake for recommending you for the job.
Jake on the other hand completely regretted it. How he thought he'd get to spend more time with you all went into the gutter.
Infact you spent less time with him more than anything. He was mostly on the studio , writing and recording . You weren't even there for photoshoots and interviews , you were always behind a laptop doing stuff , editing along with Greta's editors and photographers to make the perfect post.
So instead of spending time with Jake , you'd became close with this guy , he was not much older than you . Both of you were the youngest in the company. His name was Axel and he was pretty sweet. He'd take you out during lunch and buy you stuff sometimes and was always helpful. It was clear he liked you through, you pretend not go see it .
Ethan had also hit you up after the encounter at the mall and you'd been texting him since . He was being quite sweet and all-in-all a fairly good distraction from your weird attraction to Jake .
Ethan asked you to meet up at a party tonight, since you hadn't been going out much after your dad died, plus work. You thought why not.
"Jake" you call as you slip into the kitchen to spy on what he was doing.
"hey sweetpea" Jake smiles at you.
"wacha doin?" You ask as if it wasn't obvious , leaning on the kitchen counter.
"pouring myself a drink" Jake smiled with a sceptical look on his face , knowing you wanted something.
"so- I'm going out tonight. I'll be back late. Don't wait up for me" you say , leaning off the counter to head out of the kitchen quickly.
"where?" Jake asks , stopping you .
"just a party" you shrug.
"with who?" He questions and you roll your eyes , his eyes was on the stove in front of him .
"Ethan" you say through slightly clenched teeth .
"Ethan? Your ex?" Jake asks with a confused frown . You shy off and nod.
"alright but I'm warning you . If he makes you cry or something-" Jake says and you cut him off with a laugh. Although he didn't seem like he was actually joking.
"I can take care of myself thank you" you smile, heading out again .
"can you thought? What would you even do without me?" Jake shakes his head in exaggeration and you laugh again .
"I'm serious tho. No drugs and use protection" Jake says with a straight face , busily tending to his drink.
"Jake!" You gasp as you walk out of the kitchen.
"and no anything smoking either!" Jake yelled.
"okay mother!" You yell back as you went up to your room .
You went upstairs to dress up . You chose to were a short tight black dress with a v shaped neckline that went all the way down between your tits, revealing your cleavage with black heels to match . You let your hair hang lose , brushing it out a little with a fair amount of makeup on.
You expected Jake to compliment you the minute you walked down but instead he said nothing, you could feel his eyes on you from where he was seated on the love chair in the living room as you walked to the kitchen
"have you seen my purse?" You ask as you search the kitchen counter.
"It's here" Jake says from the living room .
Your heels clatter on the tiles as you walk to the living room . Jake pointed to the coffee table where your purse was.
"oh" you and bend down to grab your purse from the low coffee table , your ass sticking out right by Jake's face with your short dress riding up . If you bent half an inch more you would've flashed him and he secretly hoped you did.
But you grab your purse and stand straight up just in time , Jake snaps his head back to the tv infront of him , clearing his throat and mental slapping himself for looking.
"alright I'm leaving" you say , noticing he looked sort of flushed .
"have fun" he says , eyes fixed on the tv.
"bye" you call as you walk to the front door .
"bye. Be careful" he calls back as you leave .
You left to the party and and ofcourse the minute you got there , you wanted to go back home to Jake . But you thought you needed to get away for a while . So you stayed .
"y|n you came!" Ethan walks up and hands you a drink.
"don't worry I made it. it's just vodka" he says as you look at it sceptically.
"thanks" you say half heartedly as you sniff the drink before taking a tiny sip from it . And it was infact not spiked and just vodka.
"trust me a little" Ethan batted his eyes and you forced a laugh .
The party was the lamest thing ever . The music was rave trash and everyone was high on something .
"oh my god y|n? What are you doing here?" A group of your old friends came up to you as soon as they saw you.
"just thought I'd come out for a bit" you smile . They were thrilled to see you . And that's when the fun began .
You knew you were safe with them . You sat with them and did numerous shots and shared a couple joints even tho Jake told you not to smoke .
The bunch of y'all were fully spent by the time . Y'all sat and laughed together about past events.
"so y|n. Where are you staying right now?" Cass asked , taking a deep puff.
"oh. Remember Jake?" You say . They all knew Jake because you practically grew up with them . They knew your dad and his friends well .
"you mean the hot jucy ass long haired guitar Jake?" Cass smiled widely and you blushed .
"yeah" you giggled drunkly.
"shitt. You're staying with him? God I would love to be you" she says , slurring as she spoke .
"shut up". You smack her playfully.
"guys let's go we're getting matching tattoos!" Ethan randomly came up to your group . Your friends knew what Ethan did to you so they all equally hated him .
"fuck off Ethan" Janet snapped .
"aw c'mon girls don't be pussies. Me and the boys are going to go get some. They know this this guy that does it for cheap .Y'all should come too" he says , clearly high on coke or something.
"oh here you are sweetheart I thought you left" Ethan smirks at you when he sees you, reaching his hand out to tuck your hair behind your ear .
"I actually kinda wanna get a tattoo" Cass pouts .
"should we?" Janet snaps her head at Cass with a excited smile .
Before you knew it you were in the crowded car , sitting on Ethan's lap , driving to get a tattoo.
"you look gorgeous y|n" Ethan slurs into your ear and you giggle at the ticklish feeling before he began kissing your neck and murmuring sweet nothings.
"mm I missed you" he sucked on a spot he knows you like , right under your ear and you sigh at the feeling, his arms tightly wrapped around you .
You wouldn't even be here if you weren't so high . But here you were making out with Ethan in the back of someone's car , on your way to get tattoos.
Ethan was whining and yelping throughout his tattoo while you and the other were looking at the piercing section , waiting for your turn .
"oh my god. You should get a piercing" Kaylee says as she looks at you ogling at the piercing counter .
"no" you say even though you actually wanted to . A tattoo didn't excite you too much . But a piercing?
"why not?! Who's going to say anything?" Kaylee says.
"well I mean-" you pause knowing there was actually no one to stop you .
"I wanna get one no one can see" you say , giving into the idea as she passed you another joint.
"nipple piercing" her eye sparkled .
"what no!" You laugh .
"maybe a belly button piercing. Or a tongue piercing" you say as you eye the jewellery.
"Oh my god! Get a tongue piercing!" She squealed, catching the attention of your other friends.
"y|n's getting a tongue piercing!?" Cass gasped in excitement.
"hell yeah baby that would make you so hot" Ethan speaks from his chair as the tattoo artist works on his tattoo on his arm.
"shut up Ethan"
"yeah no one asked Ethan" your friends snap at him .
You didn't even realise when it was all over . Your friends got their tattoos and piercings, you got your piercing. You couldn't even feel it . Probably because you were so high .
You didn't even know how you made it home . you were completely wasted by the end of it .
You were dropped off at Jake's and somehow you made it into the house .
"Jake" you slur , you were sure you were either going to pass out or throw up in the next few minutes.
He was sitting in the living room with his guitar even though you told him not to stay up .
"holy shit" Jake set his guitar down on the couch and quickly came up to you before you could lose your balance and crash to the floor. You fall into his embrace and giggle aimlessly.
"you're fucking wasted" Jake states as he helps you inside and sits you down on the couch .
You whine as he left you there . Your eyes beginning to feel heavy as you began to pass out . But Jake woke you up again , handing you water and helping you sit up again .
You drank it and winced , forgetting your piercing completely.
"can you get changed?" Jake asked and you nodded . He bent down and unclasped your heels before standing up off the couch .
"alright let's go" Jake helped you up and you practically fell into him , wrapping your arms around his neck as he walked you to your room.
You murmured random gibberish and giggled at nothing as he tried to get you to walk up the stairs. Until he just decided to pick you up and take you , making you giggle and run your fingers into his hair and stuff your face into his neck .
He kicked your door open and set your down on the bed.
"y'know what I did?" You slur.
"what?" Jake asks.
"i- wait I forgot" you giggle drunkly. Jake wasn't amused at how high you were. And he knew you'd been smoking, he could smell the weed on you .
"I need to diee" you groan as you fall backwards into your pillows .
"no you need to change first . You can't sleep in that" Jake sits you up again.
"I missed you Jake" you babble, his face gets hot . But he ignores you in order to keep his sanity.
"what am I gonna do? I don't know what to do?" You whine , muttering gibberish in your drunk state as Jake walks over to your closet to grab you something to wear , a pair of shorts and a top that you wore many times and throws it on your bed .
"here c'mon change into these alright?" Jake says but you're too drunk to even acknowledge him.
"Jesus Christ" Jake groans and leans down to your face .
"y|n change into these" he points to the clothes and you look at them in a daze .
You got on you knees on the bed and stretched to grab your clothes from the end of the bed , arching your back as you stretched on all fours , your low neck dress allowed Jake to see your boobs just about spilling out of the dress. His body stood straight and stiff as he watched you , almost biting down on his tongue as he swallowed his spit .
You grab the clothes and kneel up again , grabbing the ends of your dress to pull it over you .
"no! No no!" Jake immediately turns around in panic .
"wait till I leave y|n Jesus!" Jake scolds and you pout as he quickly walks out of the room , closing the door behind him and taking a deep shuddering breath at what he just saw.
☆⋆⋅─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────⋆⋅☆
You woke up to a pain and distress in your mouth , groaning as you stick your tongue out and touch the area of pain . Your eyes widened when your fingers touch a warm metal on your tongue, causing a sharp jolt of pain.
"fuck-" you jump off your bed and run to the bathroom, turning on the lights to look at yourself in the mirror.
You stick out your tongue and there it was. A shiny silver tongue piercing. Your t-shirt was on backwards as well. You had no memory of what happened after a certain point last night.
"fuck what did I do-" you groan to yourself. Jake was going to kill you for sure. Did he already notice it yesterday? Probably not. How did you even come home ?
"y|n!" Jake called out , perfect timing.
You brushed your teeth in pain and washed your face before going downstairs.
"breakfast" Jake pointed to your plate on the table.
"do you want some coffee ?" He asks as he makes himself a cup .
You shake your head , too afraid to speak up in case he saw the piercing. He squinted at your weirdness but decided to push it off , continuing to make his coffee .
You sit down at the table and pick up a piece of toast , biting into it and wincing , Jake snapped his head at you again .
"you alright?" He asks. You nod and gesture to him that the toast was too hot with your mouth full.
"it's hot? But I made it like 10 minutes ago" Jake says confused and you just shrug. He stares at you confused for a second before brushing it off the second time .
You couldn't finish you breakfast. The pain was too much for hard toast and peppery fried eggs and chewy bacon . You gulp some water down to soothe it .
"you didn't finish" Jake catches you escaping.
You rubbed you tummy to gesture that you were full .
"no you barely ate anything. Sit back down and finish" he says sternly.
You groan and and shake your head , giving him pleading eyes , you hand still on your tummy .
"y|n" Jake glares. He knew you were famous for starving yourself and not eating because you were too self conscious and he wasn't to allow it .
You sigh , preparing yourself to sit back down and embrace the pain.
"good" he says as he continues sipping his coffee while cleaning up the kitchen. But he notices your distress while eating.
"does it taste that bad?" He asks " I mean I know I burnt it a little bit but I'm sure it's not that bad" Jake says as he came up next to you and took the piece of toast that you'd been nibbling on while gulping down water after each bite .
You shake your head again and take the piece of toast back , rubbing your tummy again .
"what's with the damn gestures? Can't you talk?" Jake asks , he was starting to get annoyed.
You just stare at him like a little girl that'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have been doing . Jake knew something was up . The way your mouth closed so uncomfortably, like you had something in your mouth.
"say something" Jake pushed , setting his cup down on the table in front of you and looking at you with a serious expression.
You shake your head again , keeping your mouth closed tight. You felt small, sitting down while he stood tall next to you . Plus his glare was scary.
"open your mouth" Jake got more annoyed . And you panic and shake your head as he grabbed your chin and the top of your head .
"what did you do? Open your mouth? What's in there?" Jake asks as he tries to get you to open your mouth but you fight him .
Till he grabbed both your wrists in one hand and held your nostrils closed with his other hand . Knowing eventually you'd have to open your mouth to breath. You tried to get your hands out of his iron clad grip but you couldn't.
You gasp for air as you finally open your mouth to breath , reveling the shiny silver inside your mouth.
Jake's jaw dropped as he let go of your wrists , both his hand going to lift your face up at him , his thumb and index finger holding your chin to open your mouth wider .
"in that a-" Jake stared at your mouth and you stick your tongue out slightly to show him .
"I'm sorry I didn't- I was drunk-! I-" you speak in panic .
"your father would kill you" Jake scolded .
"I know! I'm sorry- I'll get it removed or something" you apologize.
"no. It's already payed for plus the hole is already through your tongue" Jake says , using his thumb to caressed your chin and lift your chin higher so he could get a better look .
"and besides" he speaks , his cheeks growing a slight redness to them .
"it looks- quite pretty good on you" he says softly as he lets go of your face .
"really?" You blush.
"yeah. But- that's the only place you got pierced right?" Jake asks as he looks all over you and you grow red .
"yes. No where else I swear" you nod .
"fine. But I don't want you doing this again without asking me" Jake speaks after clearing his throat.
"I won't I promise" you say.
"and I told you not to smoke didn't i?" Jake says as he turns back to his coffee .
"I'm sorry Jake-" you look down in guilt.
"I don't wanna hear it. Just don't disobey me again" he speaks . He had never been so formal and serious with you in a long time. Was he actually mad at you for smoking?
Jake barely spoke to you the rest of the day , the two of you headed to work . And ofcourse you barely saw him at work . He didn't talk to you on the way to work in the car or on the way back either.
It'd been circling in your head to ask him but as soon as yall reached home he went straight for a bath and went to his room , barely even looking at you.
Your heart clenched at the thought of making him upset or angry with you.
If only you knew .
He wasn't upset or mad at you at all for disobeying him . He wanted to protect you ofcourse but it wasn't just that. He knew he was out doing all sorts of shit when he was a kid .
But what really made him avoid you was the fact that he had to go back to bed last night rock hard because of that show you put on for him .
Clearly arching your ass out as you stretched to the end of the bed , the seductive doe eyes you gave him and the sight of your cleavage completely exposed . Ofcourse you were high but were you trying to seduce him?
He couldn't sleep , trying to wait for his hard on to go down and resisting the urge to relieve himself at the thought of you . But he told himself never to do that again . But everytime he closed his eyes , all he saw was you.
And today morning just made it worse , the piercing on your tongue and the worried look on your face turned him on so bad .
There was no way to avoid how he felt . But he could avoid you for sure . So that's what he did .
NEXT PART
Tags:
@mackalah @mindastreamofcolours @jjwasneverhere @themoreyou-love @gvf23 @sarah-gvf01 @thetroublegetssoloud71 @violetstarcatcher @brookekiszkaa @gvfmarge @mulberrimouse @lyndz2names
58 notes · View notes
transsongtaewon · 3 months
Text
[Read on Ao3]
"Do you think it's possible to be a werewolf in a cisgender way?"
Yerim was munching on popcorn, watching as the man on the tv turned into a slighter larger, hairier man with cooler teeth.
"What?"
Yoohyun was sitting next to her, ignoring the popcorn Yerim had very kindly placed where they could both reach it. She had asked if he wanted to watch the movie together on a whim, not really expecting him to take her up on it, but he'd just looked vaguely annoyed and agreed. So now here they were, watching a mediocre monster movie together because Yerim thought the summary sounded funny.
"Just, can you be a werewolf in a cis way? Or, wait, do you not know what cis means?"
It made sense, of course. Why would Yoohyun of all people know about this stuff.
"Of course I know what cis means, who do you take me for." Yoohyun looked a little insulted and a little smug at the same time.
"Sometimes I almost understand why ahjussi thinks you're cute."
The look on his face morphed into one of abject horror, making Yerim cackle. "If we destroy another couch this week ahjussi will be disappointed! Don't try to set me on fire!"
Yoohyun sent her a dirty look but did not try to kill her over being called cute. He could be so well behaved at times.
"I just mean, if you have a person and they literally transform into some weird ideal of masculinity but also it's a monster that eats people, that obviously says something about gender."
"But not necessarily in a trans way, right? I understand that it's an exaggeration of masculinity but that doesn't mean it's automatically about being trans, it can just be a general gender thing."
"As far as I'm concerned, all gender is trans." She threw a piece of popcorn at him just because she could. He incinerated it before it could hit his face. "You really don't want any? It's pretty good."
"That's a bold stance. And no thank you."
Yerim shrugged. "Your loss." It really was very good popcorn and she was still amazed that Yoohyun had been willing to make it for her using his abilities. He truly was just a big softy big down - given that one happened to be on his hyung's good side.
"But I mean it, gender is all just a construct with, like, expected performances and stuff, and trans people have to perform more than anyone. Also they're expected to, like, hide a lot of gendered things because they contradict how they want to be seen. Also also hiding things is deceptive and therefore monstrous. Bam."
She felt like she almost made a coherent point there, so she allowed herself a moment to be very proud.
Yoohyun's raised eyebrow accompanied the werewolf on screen ripping someone's throat out. "I'm sure Killermonster 3: Attack of the Clawful Wolf offers great insights into the plight of trans people everywhere."
"Maybe it does. What do you know about media analysis?" Yerim scoffed.
"Oh, so we're watching this for analysis? You should have said so, I could have helped with your homework."
"Excuse you! I don't need help from you of all people."
"Unlike some people, I always had excellent grades in school."
Yerim was deeply tempted to throw the entire bowl of popcorn at him.
"If you mess up the couch, hyung will be disappointed!"
She huffed. She wasn't going to do it anyway, since she was a very mature person who wouldn't act out over something so small. Obviously.
"Anyway. It's literally about people transforming, so how could there not be any trans subtext."
"Would that make Peace trans?"
Yerim couldn't give in now, her honor depended on it. "For sure." A beat. "How does all that work for him anyway?"
Yoohyun looked a little uncertain. "I think the species can change sex at will depending on what is needed."
"Wow."
He shrugged.
"I still will not be listening to your opinions, since you have clearly never thought about your gender presentation a day in your life."
"Maybe not voluntarily," Yoohyun conceded. "But when I did my pr training and styling of course they considered that."
"Wait, really?"
"What do you think they did during that? I had to try out like fifty different looks until we landed on this one." He shrugged. "All the same to me, really."
She tried to imagine Yoohyun doing a cute concept and burst out into giggles. "Would you have gone with it if they decided to out you into frilly dresses all the time though? I thought even you would have your limits."
"Why do you think I've never worn dresses before?" He sounded so genuinely confused Yerim was confused right with him.
"You have? When?!"
"Not since I was young, but it was really the same as anything else."
Yerim blinked. "I really can't imagine that."
"And here I thought you were trying to combat gender stereotypes."
"Where you're correct, you're correct I suppose." She crunched a bit more of her popcorn. "Does Yoojin know about the dress thing?"
Yoohyun looked at her like she had gone a bit insane. "Of course he does, why wouldn't he?"
"I don't know! I just didn't expect this!"
Yoohyun got a look on her face that made her want to instinctively check if her shoelaces had been tied together, even though she of wasn't wearing any shoes. Before she could figure out what the fuck that meant, Yoojin opened the door.
"Hi! Sorry it got a bit late for me, you know how the monsters are." Yerim nodded even though she wasn't entirely sure 'how the monsters are'. "Have you had anything to eat yet? I was going to make myself something, so if you want a snack..."
"That'd be great, oppa! Thank you!" Yoohyun called out.
"Of course, Yoohyun. You too, Yerim? Coming right up."
Yoojin busied himself in the kitchen and Yerim turned toward Yoohyun. "What was that?"
"What was what?"
He really had perfected the innocent look. Yerim decided not to think about this any longer. Trying to one-up the Han brothers in insanity was futile endeavor anyway.
Written for Sctir Pride Week Day 6: Werewolves/Weremonsters
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stocious · 1 year
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bisexual carl thoughts
so listen, we got robbed of some bisexual content in the show with fiona’s exit so me and nosho ( @creepkinginc ) got talking and you know what? bisexual carl. we’re here for it. so we made him a boyfriend. meet ben.
carl brings his first ever actual boyfriend to sunday family dinner and at first the gallaghers are kinda confused because ben looks like a nobody. he has a boring name and a boring look, very average, nothing special about him. carl has had a slew of very interesting women and he’s with this guy? makes zero sense.
until ben opens his mouth. it makes sense then.
they learn he’s a baker and works at a bakery close to the police station and that’s how they met (”cops and dounts, huh?”) but ben had to give his number THREE times before carl got the hint. because why would a guy flirt with him? it took him a minute alright.
but ben also tells them he’s been a park ranger in new mexico where he’s from, a construction worker, for a while he worked with removing snakes and shit from peoples houses, you know, normal ben stuff.
at which the gallaghers tell him the story about carl killing the bald eagle hoping to get a laugh outta the guy
but he looks dissapointed and says he wishes he was there so he could show them how to prepare it properly. which then send him into a story about that time he killed and ate a poisionous snake.
the gallaghers just stare but carl nods and looks like its the most normal thing ever. ben informs them that they have to remember to bury the head should they ever have to do that because you can still step on it and get poisoned.
he then goes on to tell them about other wild animals you can eat. seagulls, snails, bugs, possums. and how to best prepare them.
alright so ian spots his tattoo and asks about it. its a ruler on his forearm and ben just shrugs and tells them he uses it to measure fish he catches sometimes. you never know when you have to measure something. its handy at ikea and when you gotta make sure a hole is deep enough. a hole for what? oh you never know when you need a hole with just the right size.
they keep talking and frank/monica/parents comes up and ben tells them about his survivalist father who dropped him in the woods one time with a swiss army knife and a lighter and he had to find his way back home. by himself. at 12.
(thats also the time he ate the snake. ya boy had to eat)
there’s just this distinct feeling ben could build you a house and do your taxes, but he’s also the typa guy who could tell you the best way to make a body dissapear and how to make a deadly weapon out of a paperclip and a stick. mcgyver style.
eventually it turns into this thing where everybody just waits for him to piggyback of whatever story they tell with a ”that reminds me of that one time…” and they all just KNOW its gonna be something outta the left field. just ben stories.
ian voices his concern about ben being a red flag to mickey but mickey’s like ”firecrotch, you married ME. if we turned out fine im sure ben and carl will be fine too. he’s weird as fuck but i kinda like the dude. good for carl the little pyschopath”
eventually they wanna add him to the gallagher group chat but he doesnt use facebook. or any social media sites. but he does have 17 different apps for hiking trails and apps for identifying plants you can eat or not eat and a compass app and— all the apps but not facebook. sorry.
so yeah, ben looks like he wouldnt make sense with carl but they get it now. he makes total sense with carl.
(i wrote this on my phone and didnt spellcheck so take it for what it is)
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Okay, but what about a What We Do In The Shadows Fruity Four (Steddie + Ronance) AU? 
I'm just stuck with an AU idea of a vampire Eddie and Steve as his accidentally vampire hunting familiar who is just so done with all the vampire shit. Steve ran away to become a familiar from his strict parents and expectations and becoming a vampire sure sounds better than taking over his dad’s business. He just snuck out one evening, went to a bar and got very, very drunk, poured his heart out to a young man with the prettiest wavy hair he’s ever seen. The next morning, he woke up in a room that looks like a 80s rock kid’s dream with a pounding headache and a sense that he’s dreaming when Eddie explains to him what he is and what he can offer to Steve. He tries to explain to Steve how being a familiar works, that he’d basically be with Eddie 24/7 and do everything that requires being in the sunlight and then one day he might become a vampire himself, but Steve just shrugs and says “does this mean I’ll never have to see a pristine white carpet? Those would stain with blood, right? I’m in.” 
Turns out Eddie lives with a duo of other two fairly fresh/new vampires, Nancy and Robin. Things might be a bit weird for a moment because Nancy was Steve’s first serious girlfriend, but she seems happy and that’s enough for him. Nancy asks if it bothers him what she is now, that she drinks blood to survive, and he just shrugs his shoulders again and says “not more than when you used to drink decaf. That was fucked up, Nance.” Robin makes fun of him a lot and sometimes sends him on the weirdest quests possible (”get me a music sheet for Never Gonna Give You Up, but it needs to be for a trumpet”), but she has a soft spot for him. Nancy and Robin have a familiar too, a runaway teen called Max, but Steve’s fairly sure it’s less of a familiar situation and more of an unofficial adoption. Max is snarky and Steve adores her. 
Steve suspects Eddie knows way more about recent pop culture and vampire media, but he's always saying stupid things to drive Steve crazy. He also likes to see Steve squirm. Steve’s suspicions are confirmed when they go to the store to buy some celebratory decorations for the arrival of Uncle Wayne, the vampire who made Eddie (Eddie doesn’t talk about it much, but apparently Wayne bit him when he was getting lynched by a mob to save his life in the 80s), Eddie kept scaring Steve by stories of what an ancient vampire Wayne is and how traditional he acts, but then Eddie goes to the craft section of the store and starts collecting crepe paper (”creepy paper! Creepy paper!”) and smudging glitter on himself (”I’ll sparkle like Twilight!”) while Steve is 100% sure Wayne is going to kill him. And when Wayne arrives, he looks just like a normal guy, hugs Eddie and when Steve asks where his famous 19th century cape is, Wayne just rolls his eyes and smacks Eddie’s chest. “You’re up to your usual tricks, I see.” Apparently, Wayne got turned in the 50s when he tried to save his own brother from his stupidity, dragging him away after he tried to steal from a real 19th century vampire. 
Their lives are not really ideal because a lot of vampires consider it a mockery of their species that these three don’t just adhere to their aesthetic (no coffins for one, well, Eddie has one but he stores his electric guitar there because “she deserves the comfort”), but they also don’t treat their familiars as they should, too relaxed. So there are sometimes invaders aiming to harm the three vampires and Steve is 100% determined to keep his new home, so when an attacker sneaks through the kitchen window, he grabs the nearest item - chopsticks, he was about to eat his takeout - and stabs it into the invader’s chest. Apparently that counts as a stake. And of course that’s exactly when Uncle Wayne walks in, looks at the pile of ash at Steve’s feet (yep, killing vampires is a big no no in their community) and silently hands him a vacuum cleaner. They never talk about it. Max claims she never saw anything, but she inconspicuously hands Steve a hand-carved stake. “For rats,” she says, her innocent blue eyes peering into his. “They sometimes get reeeeally big.” 
Eddie is slowly getting ready to turn Steve, but he’s grown fond of him so much that he’s afraid if he gives him what he wants (well, Steve says he doesn’t necessarily want to be a vampire but why else would he stick around, Eddie thinks), Steve is going to leave. So he keeps stalling, making vague promises and Steve is like “yeah okay, sure, next sabbath or whatever sounds nice, but could you please do your levitation thingy, I want to sweep the floor now”. 
(Also Steve often comes from the outside into the dark house and Eddie kind of misses the sun, but when he’s around Steve he can feel the warmth radiating from his skin and Eddie just wants to wrap himself around Steve like a vampire backpack)
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buginateacup · 4 months
Note
🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings
🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now
🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character
🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity
🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 
:green beetle: ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here (emoji is not working for me smh)
🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings
I was gonna say Drifter/Eris and that they both smell really weird in very different ways...
But let's be honest I gotta go Megarox. Megamind is a flower eater, he enjoys nectar, and Roxanne can and will encourage this, usually by bringing him flowers or when they go on walks in parks together (night walks, naturally. Those are the best kind), she plucks flowers and feeds them to him, usually by shoving them in his face because she is a terrible gremlin and it's why we love her.
🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now
My wife came out to a bunch of our friends and they are all so loving and supportive! She smiles so much now!
We are getting a patio installed out the back! It only took 7 years but finally we can eat out there without having to balance on gravel
There is a very cute cat loafing beside me
🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character
This is not me trying to yuck anyone's yum but I really, really cannot stand casting Megamind and Roxanne in parental roles for Keiko or her calling them her parents. It squicks me out to the point of repulsion. I am all for feral aunt and uncle to a wild niece, but fun characters who are NOT reduced to parenting (reluctant or otherwise) in sequels are so few and far between that I just don't want to see it. They can be supportive and caring without having to force everyone into Nuclear Family Unit.
And sure, a lot of this stems from growing up with the expectation in both media and irl that of COURSE becoming a parent is the only outcome for you. But that doesn't make it any less of an ick! We SHOULD be getting more non nuclear family options, we SHOULD be getting more it takes a village. But if your only approach to setting characters up as a family is to make them "Here is the mummy and here is the daddy and here is the baby" just no. Please. There are a thousand more possibilities there, open your mind.
🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity
Go for a walk, take some music with you, or do dishes or sweep (also with music).
Additionally, if you're wanting to write something but are holding off to find out if future canon will change things, stop waiting. Just go. Do you think we'd have anywhere near the creativity and wildness of fanfic if we had to stop and wait for canon's blessing every time. it's FANFIC! Who fucking cares if canon contradicts you down the track, it's not gonna be any less fanfic for waiting!
(I do think we actually saw a drop in the level of creativity and engagement with fandom ideas when the show was announced, which is a bummer. Kill the cop in your brain. Write shit that will be immediately contradicted, have someone come to your completely disproven fic years down the line and go "I thought this was going to not work because we know X but holy shit this is a whole new way of looking at things!")
🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately
I uh....no thoughts, head empty. How do I stop my cat attacking me for wearing jeans in the house? I got my other rants out up above so... *le shrug*
:green beetle: ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here (emoji is not working for me smh)
Oh you sneaky little shit, you got me writing!
(context: Look we aint supposed to let the prisoners get gifts. There's a whole chapter in the handbook about what happened last time we let the kid get so much as a bobby pin.
But you tell me how I'm meant to turn down such a sweet little old lady when she comes in with two pristine old shoe boxes, all carefully packed with tissue and hands one to the kid and the other to the repoter and with a quavery little voice about how she and her husband, god rest his soul, used to go dancing every saturday night for almost forty years and how they entered the ameature ballroom competitions together. Told us they were the last pairs they brought together, before the cancer took him and oh she'd never get these on over her bunions now but it would do her old heart good to see some use coming to these shoes which hadn't seen the light of day in nigh on twenty years.)
There's only so much a man can take right before retirement.
I might have been able to hold her off if she hadn't handed one of the boxes to Miss Primetime, who looked really touched and immediately buckled herself into a pair of sparkly red shoes to the encouragement of all the old biddies.
So now the kid's the proud owner of a pair of actual ballroom dance shoes, all polished black to go with the bright orange jumpsuit.
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ezzydean · 2 years
Text
steter into stetopher fluff I wrote for @cattatonically my teen wolf partner-in-crime 1100ish words, rated T for language (as usual with me) fluffy floofy fluff
If there was one thing that Stiles has learned in all his years on this earth it’s that he doesn’t know everything.  He likes to pretend he does.  He likes to have his fingers in enough pies and whatnot that he at least sounds like he knows what he’s talking about.  He has books and podcasts and social media accounts.  Contacts and clients.  
He knows things.  He knows a lot of things.
He doesn’t know how to handle this, though.
He’s just finally understanding how to handle the whole being in a committed relationship with someone who doesn’t think that Doritos and frozen pizza is a home cooked meal.  Not that his other relationships were bad.  This is just his first one since college, really.  It’s a good relationship.  A solid one.  One he doesn’t want to mess up.
So the fact that he’s sharing a home cooked meal with someone who isn’t technically part of the relationship feels a little weird.  Mostly because it’s not just a ‘hey I happened to be cooking tonight and you stopped by’ meal.  Or even a ‘hey thanks for helping with that thing’ meal.  No.  This was Chris inviting him over with the purpose of making a meal for him.
Oh sure it was originally supposed to be for Stiles and Peter both.  Which changed the odd factor a tiny bit considering Peter and Chris are basically best friends.  But then Peter got stuck on a call with Sweden of all places — and Stiles would call bullshit considering Sweden is something like nine hours ahead of them but he knows how Emelie is and a 2AM call isn’t actually that out of character for her — and so Stiles is here.  In Chris’ apartment.  Eating a ridiculously good meal simply because Chris had wanted to make a meal for Stiles and Peter.
They laugh about how much Peter is going to hate the fact he has to eat leftovers if he wants any.  They sip wine that Stiles enjoys but he knows Chris bought mostly for Peter.  They eat ice cream that Peter would have enjoyed but Stiles knows Chris bought specifically for him.  They clear the table together and Stiles argues his way into getting Chris to let him help with dishes.
Stiles falls asleep on the couch halfway through the movie they start after dinner and wakes up to the sound of Peter in the kitchen grumbling about how subpar leftovers are when compared to the original meal.  Chris grumbles something in reply and shuffles out of the kitchen back to his bedroom.  A few minutes later Peter settles on the couch and pulls Stiles’ feet into his lap before restarting the movie.  He makes it about as far this time as he did the first before he falls asleep.
“I have a question for you.”
Stiles looks up at Peter for a second and then goes back to the book he’s reading.
“Okay.  Go for it.”
“Do you think Christopher would like this?”
Stiles looks up again and squints at Peter’s phone, eyes darting between the screen and Peter’s face a few times.
“Kittens,” he says, turning back to his book again.
“Kit- what?”  Peter twists his hand to look at his phone.  “That’s not a kitten, Stiles.”
“I never said I was going to answer your question, Peter.  Besides.  He’s your best friend.  How the hell would I know better than you if he would like something?”
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately.  I thought you might have some insight.”
Stiles rolls his eyes.  “Don’t take your weird misplaced jealousy out on me.”
“What are you even talking about?”  Peter scowls at him.  “I am not jealous.”
“And cows don’t shit in the pasture.”
“Excuse me?”
Stiles shuts his book and drops it on the couch.
“You’re jealous,” he says.  “You’re jealous and you can’t figure out which one of us you’re jealous of.  If you’re jealous that I’m spending more time with Chris or that he’s getting to spend time with me.”
“That’s preposterous.”
Stiles shrugs.  “That’s just the way the cookie is crumbling, love.”
Peter stares at him for a few seconds before looking down at his phone again.  “I’m not fond of these cookies, Stiles.  Not at all.”
He watches Peter scrolls angrily for a few minutes before he sighs softly and pushes himself off the couch.  Peter grumbles and grouches when Stiles flops into his lap and wriggles around until Peter wraps his arm around him and settles him in place.
“We can always make other cookies,” Stiles offers as he runs his fingers up and down Peter’s arm.  “Together.”
Stiles reaches down and types something into the search bar.
Peter hums contemplatively.  “Together then.”
The door to Chris’ apartment swings open and Stiles grins.
“Hey, Chris.”
“Hi, Stiles.”  Chris looks past his shoulder.  “Hello, Peter.”
“Christopher,” Peter greets politely.
“I’m going in,” Stiles whispers loudly as he ducks under Chris’ arm and toes off his shoes before making a beeline to the kitchen.  “We’re clear, Peter,” he shouts back.
“Do I even want to know?” Chris asks as he steps back and waves Peter inside.
“It was mostly Stiles’ idea.  So.  Probably not.”
Chris shakes his head, holding his hand out for Peter’s coat and hanging it in the closet as Peter slips out of his own shoes.
Stiles isn’t in the kitchen when they get there.  They find him out on the balcony in Chris’ chair looking up at the sky.  Peter steps out and kisses Stiles’ forehead and then slips past Chris and back inside.  Chris watches Stiles, listening to Peter puttering around inside, until Stiles looks over his shoulder and smiles.
“Go on,” Stiles says.  “He misses you.  Spend some time with your bestie.  Bake a cake.  Make out.  Stare longingly into each other’s eyes for a bit.  Whatever.  Just pay him some attention.”
Chris holds his gaze until Stiles looks back up to the sky.
“Pay him some attention, huh?”
“Yeah,” Stiles laughs softly.  “Then when you’ve had your fill of him let me know and I’ll come in.”
“Could be awhile.  I’ve been dealing  with him for years.  I’ve built up a pretty good immunity for time spent in Peter’s company.”
“I’ll be waiting.”  Stiles reaches out for Chris and tangles their fingers together when Chris reaches out in return.  “I’m not in any hurry.”
Chris bends down to press a kiss to Stiles’ knuckles.
“I won’t keep you waiting too long.”  Chris kisses Stiles’ knuckles again and straightens.  “Promise.”
Stiles still isn’t entirely sure where they’re all going with this.  But that’s okay with him.  Because he knows he has both of them with him for the journey.
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