#I think this is a fair ask but I will say

[spicygrilledscorpio]

Not a driver - Lando

Summary: Y/n asked Lando to try the sim out of boredom and well- let’s say it did not go as expected

Warning: SMUT, dom-ish!Lando, bratty!reader, cockwarming, toys, overstimulation, pet names (princess or sum), fingering, f!receiving, handcuffs (i think that’s it lemme know if i missed any)

Side note: This is my first fic ever so please be gentle🥺🫶🏻. English is also not my first language so sorry if anything sounds weird. Hopes you guys enjoy

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Y/n settled in her place in the sim rig and started driving with Lando standing next to her watching. Well, for the record, despite her boyfriend driving for a living, y/n is a terrible driver. However, Lando doesn’t mind it at all, he is more than happy to take the wheel. Therefore, he is surprised when y/n asks him to try the sim.

“Fuck” she yells out of frustration, hitting the steering wheel after spinning out, again. While her beloved boyfriend laughs out loud.

“Why are you laughing” Y/n pouts, and turns around to look at Lando, who was standing behind her sim rig with arms around her neck. “I’m not” he smirks, leaning down to peck her lips.

After multiple attempts of trying to finish a lap and failed. “I give up” Y/n sighs “This is too hard, I hate driving”.

“Oh come on, lemme show you”. Lando guides y/n to stand up and take her seat. She was fully prepared to stand by and watch him when suddenly he took her hands.

“Come here baby” He pulled her onto his lap. Her back against his chest, he guides her hands on the wheel. Lando’s feet on the pedal while hers was dangling, since she was a lot shorter than him.

Y/n was wearing one of Lando’s oversized t-shirts with her panties underneath to deal with the torturous heat of summer in Monaco. She squirms in Lando’s lap trying to get comfortable, when Lando reaches out to stop her as she whines out quietly, but enough for him to hear.

“Ready?” Lando asks, placing his hands over hers, which were already on the steering wheel. His hands are significantly larger than hers, so it’s fair to say that her hand vanished from sight.

After a few laps of not crashing, thanks to her boyfriend, y/n attention starts to drift to her boyfriend’s hands. The way his hands look so much bigger than yours, the way the veins run through his hands or the ring he was wearing made her go feral. Y/n can’t help but squirm slightly against him to seek a release. However, Lando ignores her movements and keeps his eyes stuck to the screen.

Y/n tried to shift her attention back to driving, but the way her boyfriend kept squeezing her hands and placing kisses on her temple every once in a while drove her crazy. But it’s not until Lando shifts in his seat and practically thrusts onto her that y/n has her last straw.

“Landooo” Y/n whines as she removes her hands from the steering wheel to turn around and straddle him.

“What’s wrong princess? I thought you wanted to try the sim” He answered in a teasing tone and chuckled slightly at her action.

Y/n didn’t reply but let out a loud whine and groan as she nuzzled her face into Lando’s neck. Desperately grinding on his bulge, feeling it getting harder and harder. Lando’s hand let go of the steering wheel to steady her hip, stopping her from moving.

“Princess, look at me” He demands with a low-toned voice, the one that she always goes crazy for.

Lando’s one hand holding her face, moving it away from the crook of his neck, the other one found its way to her butt and kneading it. Y/n’s eyes lazily look into his while still laying her head on his shoulder with a pout on her face.

“What do you want, hmm?”

“You know what I want” Y/n whines out, hiding her flushed cheek into his neck, again.

“No, look at me sweetie, use your words” He pulled out that harsh, low-toned voice again.

“Need you, Lan” She looked at him with those puppy eyes, knowing for sure he wouldn’t be able to say no to her. Y/n squirms, grinding her clothed pussy against his now more visible hard bulge.

“How bad?” he teases. Y/n groans, hitting his chest with her palm. “Patient” he demands

“Take these off” Hands pulled her pantie lace and let it snap against her skin

Y/n shuffles in his lap to take it off and place it in Lando’s hand, then he shoves it in his pocket. She struggles to unlock his belt but manages to do it anyway, then rushes to unzip his pants and pull down his boxer. All the while Lando just leaned back onto the seat and watched her struggle and let out a chuckle seeing how impatient his girlfriend was.

“Lando-“ she gasps sinking into him slowly, afraid to get hurt since he’s really big compared to her. When suddenly he pulled her down onto him roughly, making tears well up in her eyes from the sudden stretch.

After a little while of getting used to his size, y/n starts bouncing onto him, or did she think so? Lando suddenly holds her down, stopping her movements. Y/n lets out a whine and stares at him in confusion.

“Now, you’re going to be a good girl and keep me warm while I do some laps” he stops mid-sentence to look down at her, who looks like she’s about to cry out from frustration. “Is that ok princess? Can you do that for me”.

Y/n nodded slightly. As much as y/n wants to say no, she knows that if she just behaves for him, the rewards she gets after this torture ends will be worth it.

“Yeah? That’s my good girl”

After about 10-20 minutes of torment and Lando has no sign of shutting down the sim to take care of her, y/n begins to get impatient and starts squirming, clenching harder to ask for her boyfriend’s attention. Lando hisses but pays no attention to his now very, very needy girlfriend. Not getting what she wants, y/n starts grinding down harder and eventually starts bouncing on him.

“Behave,” Lando says, still very much not giving her the attention she wanted.

Still, y/n ignores him and bounces even faster. Not holding back anymore decided to get herself off. Lando, suprisingly, doesn’t stop her and Y/n takes this as approval. Y/n keeps chasing her high as her boyfriend does nothing but lean back, hands folded behind his head with a smirk on his face, staring at Y/n’s face as she comes close to her orgasm.

Just when she was about to cum, Lando stopped her. Out of confusion and frustration, Y/n whines out loud, frowning at her boyfriend, while he’s grinning.

“Didn’t say you could get yourself off, did I?” he questions in a teasing tone.

“But-“ A tear rolls down from her eyes from being denied her orgasm.

“Brat,” Lando said as he reached out to wipe her tears away.

He stood up suddenly and Y/n squealed, wrapping her arms around his neck, afraid of falling. Lando carries her to their bedroom and throws her gently on the bed.

“What am I gonna do with this brat hm?”

“Please Lan, I’ll be good, I promise” Y/n begs, hoping her boyfriend would give in

“Oh? Then why did you get yourself off without my permission hm, brat?” he questions, as he reaches out to the drawer in the nightstand and pulls out a handcuff and a vibrator. Lando cuffs y/n onto their bed’s headboard while she tries to wriggle. “Stop or you’ll hurt yourself,” Lando said sternly, y/n pouting in return.

Lando has been teasing Y/n with the vibrator for more than an hour, edging her through multiple orgasms that now both of them lost count of.

“I can’t take it anymore” She lets out a shaky breath as her body trembles, tears staining her flushed face. Tries to close her legs but fails, again, with her boyfriend settling between them. Lando moves the vibrator onto her puffy clit from being overstimulated, while his fingers thrust in and out of her at a pace that she feels like she can pass out at every given moment. The wet sounds of her arousal being slapped against her skin over and over made Y/n blush as she hid her face in the pillow.

“Don’t be shy now princess, I thought you wanted to cum”. He said with a smirk on his face that she wanted to wipe off so badly.

“Just one more, ok? Can you do that for me baby?” he asks knowing that he’s gonna pull one out of her regardless of what her answer will be. Y/n has no choice but to nod, and that’s not the first time he promised that her next orgasm is going to be “the last one”.

As he feels her pussy clenching harder around his fingers, Lando moves faster and turns the vibrator to its highest setting, helping his girlfriend to chase her orgasm. Finally, y/n spasms down onto his fingers and squeezes her eyes shut as she cries out loud. Lando doesn’t stop thrusting and helps her ride out of her orgasm.

“No more” Y/n shakes her head as she whimpers, tears rolling down all over her face.

“I know sweetheart, I know” Lando whispers as he removes his fingers from her, peppering kisses all over her face. Moved to uncuff her wrist and place kisses onto both of her red wrists from her wriggling from before. Y/n’s hands immediately move to wrap around his neck, pulling him down to cuddle with her.

Y/n drifts to sleep after just a little while of cuddling from the tiredness from all the overstimulation before. Lando moves away from her grips and replaces himself with a pillow gently since the last thing he wants would be to wake her up.

He grabs a warm towel to clean her up, parting Y/n’s legs gently and cleaning her up. Y/n let out a whine when the cloth touched her sensitive clit as Lando shushes her. “Go back to sleep, baby”

Lando quickly throws the towel away and settles on the bed beside y/n. They cuddled up and y/n nuzzled in Lando’s chest.

“You didn’t get to cum” Y/n mumbled in a low volume but enough for Lando to hear.

“Go to sleep princess, we’ll deal with that tomorrow”

[auroralwriting]

clean part one

tfatws! bucky barnes x stark! reader (no use of y/n)

after the fight with john walker, you can tell bucky's arm was bothering him. so, you make a trip to see him.

word count: 1.6k | warnings: strong language

Your suit was practically scarp metal after the fight with John Walker. He had tried his hardest to absolutely obliterate your suit. Thankfully, Tony had done a great job of designing it. With a few hours of repairs, it would be good as new.

The one thing you worried about was Bucky's arm, specifically the metal one. You saw how Walker had thrown Bucky across the room into wiring, causing it to shock Bucky's whole body. It made you uneasy to think about wether or wether not the arm was in tact, that and the fact that if it wasn't, it could very well lead to a lot of pain for Bucky.

So, using Friday, you found Bucky's new address. He'd taken residence in a small apartment in Brooklyn, thankfully, not too far from where you were reclaiming the Stark Tower. One car ride later, and you stood outside Bucky's apartment feeling more nervous than you thought you would be.

While Bucky and you weren't on bad terms, it was fair to say he was still uneasy around you. I mean, he had killed your parents, and your only living relative (minus the small Morgan) was also dead. You'd been a baby when The Winter Soldier killed Howard and Maria, so how could there be any bad blood between you and Bucky? You didn't even know what you had lost. That and you were more down-to-earth than Tony, realizing quickly the guilt and shame Bucky felt for his mind-controlled actions.

Using up the last bit of confidence you had, you knocked on Bucky's door. It took less than a minute, and Bucky's surprised face was staring back at you.

"Uhm, hi," You said awkwardly.

"How'd you know where I live?" Bucky asked, confused.

You held up your phone, Friday's screen appearing. "Just a quick scan of all James Buchanan Barnes in the area. Not very many," Your joke fell flat as you stood awkwardly while Bucky processed what was happening.

"Why're you here?" He asked.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay after the fight with Walker." You replied. "I saw you get thrown into all those wires, I saw all the sparks."

Bucky gave a small shrug, "I'm alright."

You eyed his arm suspiciously, "That arm causing you any pain?"

Both eyes now fell on Bucky's arm. You looked back up to Bucky to see him staring at it still. "It's been better," He sighed, his reply honest.

"I can fix it if you'd like?" You suggested. Bucky's eyes nearly popped out of his head at your words, "Or not!" You quickly added. "I, uh, don't want to make you feel weird..er than you probably already do."

Bucky went to move his arm, and you saw the traces of pain etched into his features. "It'll be alright."

"Our fight isn't over yet, Bucky." You argued. "You should be at your best." You took a deep breath in, finding more confidence from deep within, "I promise I won't judge you if that's what you're worried about. I mean, Tony literally had a hunk of metal plunged in his chest, and he made me clean it out all the time, it was really gross and-"

"Alright, alright," Bucky held his hands up. "I don't wanna hear about Tony's gross chest-hole. Just, come on in." The door opened all the way as Bucky walked inside. You trailed behind, slowly shutting the door behind you as you observed the apartment. It was really empty, just a small couch and a coffee table in front of it. The kitchen looked rather bare, too.

You took a seat on the couch, Bucky sitting next to you. You set your toolbox down in between the both of you, putting some space between your bodies.

"I need to see the connection point, if you don't mind?" You said softly, looking to Bucky's covered shoulder.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," He muttered as he hesitantly slipped off his shirt. You quickly noticed the healing scars on his shoulder, all around the joint, but you made sure to pay no attention to them as you hovered your hand over his arm. "It's fine," He said, watching your hesitantcy.

The metal was cool on your hands as you felt around it, looking for the weak point. Once you found it, you grabbed your tools and began to work at it. You weren't used to working in silence, so you tried to make some conversation.

"Steve, uh, used to tell me a lot about you." You said. Bucky raised a brow at you as you continued. "You were his knight in shining armor, or something of the sorts."

"I guess I was," Bucky gave the smallest hint of a smile. "How'd you learn how to do this anyways?"

You shrugged as you grabbed a new tool, "Tony taught me everything I know. Engineering, chemistry, physics, you name it."

"It must've been hard, just you two." Bucky said softly.

Looking up, you shook your head, "Don't start that," You said.

"But it's my fault-"

"For the last time, Bucky, that was the Winter Soldier, not you. I do not blame you, there's no reason to keep hurting yourself over this." You cut Buck off, voice slightly sharp with intention. Bucky's eyes fell on the other side of the room as you sighed, "Tony would have forgiven you, too. He just needed time."

Bucky scoffed, "He had five years."

"Of which we were gone," You countered. "I forgive you for him and myself, okay?"

“Don’t say that,” Bucky shook his head. “Just.. don’t?”

You set down your tool, staring at him. “Do you want proof?”

This gained Bucky’s interest, “Proof?” He asked, voice laced with doubt. “What proof?”

“Who do you think protected your whereabouts in Wakanda?” You asked, “Steve and Sam were on the run. Of course Tony knew you were there. I remember when he got the call. He just sat there for a while, thinking. When we talked about it, he said he was glad you were getting help.”

“What else did he say?” Bucky said with a knowing look in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s Tony, Buck. He says anything and everything and means almost none of it.” Bucky didn’t expect you to use his nickname. He liked the sound of it coming from your voice.

“That doesn’t mean he forgave me.” Bucky said.

“Well I do, okay? So stop being such a grump. I’m trying to be your friend, just let me, would you?” You sighed as you began to work on his arm again.

The soldier gave a small sigh, “Stop wasting your time on me when you have a company to run.”

“Stop trying to push me away. Also, Pepper’s helping me run it, so I have all the time in the world.” You argued.

After a brief moment of silence, Bucky spoke again. “I’m still not sure I’m safe to be around,”

The honesty surprised you, making you glance up at him to observe his face. “I’m literally face to face with your arm, tool inside it, and you wanna say you aren’t safe?”

Your comment made Bucky give a small chuckle, “That’s not really what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” You asked.

Bucky gave a shaky breath, “In Madripoor, when I had to take down those guys when I was pretending to be.. him,” Bucky explained, “It’s like I could still feel him trying to break free.”

You set a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, making sure to avoid his scars. “Bucky, Wankanda said you’re a free man. The Winter Soldier’s gone.”

“Maybe I’m just so used to violence now.” Bucky offered, “Maybe it’s who I am.”

“No,” You replied quickly. “You are Bucky Barnes. You’re Steve’s best friend, Sergeant Barnes. You’re Sam’s friend, my friend, and you’re a survivor. You’re one hell of a fighter, you’re a victim who pushed through all his pain and suffering to become a better man, and that’s exactly who you are.” Your words left Bucky feeling like he could cry, but he just looked away. You didn’t know whether what you said was right or wrong.

“Thank you,” Bucky muttered as you began to work on his arm again.

“It’s no problem, Bucky.” You responded. You silently worked, trying to ignore the burning sensation of Bucky’s eyes poring holes into your head.

"This world doesn't deserve you," Bucky muttered as you worked. You simply hummed in reply, making Bucky's forehead crease. "I mean it, Stark. You're one of the best people in this world."

Rolling your eyes, you put away the last of your tools. "Bucky, I'm just being a decent person."

Bucky's eyes burned with a new passion, "No decent person would do all you've done for everyone you've ever come across." Before you could protest, Bucky's metal hand grabbed your chin softly. "Don't even try to argue, I know it can be hard for a Stark but can you hold your tongue?" When you didn't reply, Bucky continued. "You're so humble, so fuckin' sweet. I mean, you came all this way just to fix my arm."

"And to check on you," Your voice came out babbled as Bucky's hold on your chin was still present.

"I don't deserve your kindness," Bucky admitted, "But here you are, giving me all of it." His eyes bore into your own, his own actions betraying his mind as he slammed his lips tightly onto your own. It took you by surprise, but you happily returned the heated kiss as Bucky's hand slithered behind your neck.

"You deserve all of it, the whole world," You mumbled as you pulled away breathlessly. "The world did you dirty, and I'll be the one to wash you of it." With your words, Bucky felt his eyes water as he kissed you passionately again.

Once you pulled apart, Bucky wiped your lips with his thumb, a small smile on his lips. "Does that mean you're gonna stick around?"

"Yeah," you giggled, "I think it does."

[wikiangela]

"I'm going to ask Tommy to marry me." Buck says out of the blue one random evening, sitting in Eddie's living room, spread out in the armchair, sipping a beer, eyes on the TV, where Eddie and Christopher are playing a video game. His tone is even and firm, not even a hint of hesitation, it's not a huge revelation, or even a decision he's made just now. He's been thinking about it for weeks, maybe months. He doesn't know why he says it now, it just slips out - maybe he just needed to talk to his best friend about it.

"Really?" he hears a hint of surprise in Eddie's voice, but when he looks at his best friend, he's still focused on trying to beat his son at the game. He's smiling, sparing a glance at Buck. "That's great, Buck."

"Yeah?" he breathes out, feeling even more settled now. He wasn't nervous, exactly, but still felt kind of like he did when he came out to Eddie. Like he just wanted his best friend to approve, to support him - and he had no doubt he would.

"Of course," Eddie answers easily. "You guys are perfect together, and you love each other, and if you're sure you want to spend the rest of your life with Tommy, yeah, go for it. I'm happy for you," he adds, finally looking at Buck, a soft, genuine smile on his face. Christopher uses this moment to win the game, and Eddie groans at his triumphant yell. "Aw, not fair, Buck distracted me." Both Buck and Chis laugh, while Eddie pouts for a moment, before a smile breaks through anyway.

"Well, I won." Chris shrugs with a grin. "And I think it'd be so cool if you and Tommy get married," he adds, moving his attention to Buck.

"Yeah?" Buck repeats, his smile even wider now. Having two of his favorite people not only really love his partner - Buck's pretty sure Tommy's the first one to spend so much time with all of them together, and it feeling so right - but also approve of Buck wanting to tie him into their family forever.

"Duh, Tommy's the coolest." Chris rolls his eyes. "Better lock him down while you can," he jokes, and Buck gasps in surprise. He's such a teenager.

"Wow, rude. He's not going anywhere." he shakes his head with a laugh. That much he's sure of, for the first time in his life he's not scared of getting left, of his partner getting bored or fed up. He knows Tommy's gonna be right at his side no matter what.

"Not if you put a ring on it." Eddie joins his son's teasing. Laughing, Buck reaches over to the table to pick up a chip from a bowl and throw it at Eddie, who dodges it as it lands somewhere on the couch. "Hey!"

"But seriously, you don't think it's too soon?" Buck asks after a moment, a little bit of nerves seeping into his tone. He's more than sure about wanting to marry Tommy. He's just a little scared that he's gonna freak him out. They have talked about this, about their future, what they want out of this relationship, out of life, but they never really discussed any timelines, and Buck might be a little in his head about this. Hence why he needed to talk to someone about it, probably.

"Buck, you've been together for over a year. Some people get married after less." Eddie raises an eyebrow. "When you know, you know." He shrugs, and Buck releases a breath. Because he does know. He has known for a long time now.

"So you think he'll say yes?" Buck asks, but he knows the answer before Eddie has a chance to roll his eyes with fond exasperation. Tommy loves him. He loves Tommy so much his heart wants to burst out of his chest and live in Tommy's. Tommy is his forever, he's sure of it, and he knows that when he asks, and it's going to be very soon, he'll get a positive answer.

"He'll say yes." Eddie says with a small shake of his head and a wide smile. "Now, two important questions from me: who's gonna be your best man, and do you need help planning and picking out a ring?"

[forestshadow-wolf]

Soap has a bad habit. But he doesn't think it's... that bad. Just a joke between him and Ghost that he'd started, really. Well- it wasn't completely a joke to him, but it was to Ghost, so it didn't really matter. Or, it did but that was kinda... it was his own problem to deal with. Not that was the real bad habit of his, he jumps head first into everything and has to do damage control after.

It was him and Ghost on watch tonight, price and Gaz were soundly a sleep in the other side of the safehouse. They'd been tracking a target for the last three days, and hopefully wouldn't have too much longer before they could go take him into custody. That's not to say they haven't been busy, infact it would be more accurate to say they've been a little stretched thin between this target, and taking out a seperate enemy warehouse.

The night was quiet, interrupted only by the incessant frog chirps and cricket calls. Somehow it felt both tired, and restless. And like always, he opens his big mouth to break the tension that sprouts from somewhere he can't see.

"Go out with me, L.T?" He asked, tying the straw wrapper in his hands into a finger sized ring, and presenting it to the man.

"I don't want to do this tonight, Sargeant." Ghost says curtly. Ouch, he got ranked? In all fairness, soap supposes, Ghost is tired, worked to the bone like the rest of them. Soap doesn't fault him. So he drops it.

But ot does get his mind spinning. In two years, Ghost hasn't snapped at him about this stupid joke once, not like he just had anyway. Sure it wasn't harsh, but soap could read between the lines just fine. Ghost was tired of it, or maybe just too tired to deal with the uncomfortability of it. He's gotten that Ghost didn't want him the first time he rejected him, but he'd also laughed it off as a joke, so he'd been keeping his alibi ever since. Not that those attempts were ever disingenuous either, just that he was expecting the Answer. But he wouldn't have kept it up if he'd known it made Ghost uncomfortable. Maybe he should have known. He definitely should have with how much he studies the man. Looking at him now he can see the way Ghost's eyes flick to him, then away as he does an uncomfortable little shift, so small that if you weren't looking for it you wouldn't see it. But he does see it now.

"Ahm sor'y, Ghost." It takes him a very generous amount of time to put together the words he needs in a way that sounds genuine enough to his own ears. Longer still for him to speak them. "I hadn't meant to make you uncomfortable, I should have known." He rips at the straw paper as he speaks, "it never meant anything, if that makes you feel better." Then he falters a little, but he plows on, "ah'll um- ah'll stop joking about it." The once paper ring, now just a scrap of litter on the wooden table beneath his hands.

Ghost doesn't respond, just looks at him silently, and he feels a pit drop in his stomach. He wishes the ground would just swallow him up so he wouldn't have to deal with the repercussions of his own actions. The tension in the air pulls tight, tight enough to strangle them so he opens his mouth. Again.

"So.. did you hear about the kidnapping at school?.... he woke up." Soap chuckles, answering his own joke. It does not solve anything. If anything it makes it all worse, if the way Ghost doesn't even acknowledge it had anything to say about it. "Okay.." he resigns himself to a silent and uncomfortable watch for the night, he'll sleep it off tomorrow, stop making the jokes, and it'll all be fine.

I'd be fine for them. For him it wouldn't be, it wasn't since the first rejection, and it wasn't for the 83 other accumulated attempts, but he'll live. He has been, so he'll keep doing so. Even if it ached to breath around the thought. He'll just... not think about it.

"So it never meant anything?" The question catches him off guard and leaves him floundering. Ghost is looking at him when he glances up now. Yes! Yes! It did! It does! Everytime! All the time! His mind screams.

"No- never." He chokes out instead, the lie tastes sour on his tongue, and he's so sure Ghost has noticed. He's gonna get visibility uncomfortable with soap any second now. Soap knows it. Braces for it.

"You're lying?" But it sounds more like a statement. Almost sounds offended. Like Ghost is hurt that soap would try to lie to him. Which, quite frankly, doesn't make sense. Why couldn't he just accept it and move on, why does he have to torment soap about it.

Soap can't muster up another ill-tasting lie, so he just looks away.

"You did mean it." That one is a statement, one which soap cringes internally at. "Did.. did you mean it the first time?"

Soap doesn't want to answer. He really really doesn't. But he forces himself to nod, just once. The first one had meant the most to him.

"I thought you were joking... messing with me to have a laugh." Ghost admits quietly.

"I was. Kinda," he sighs, folding his arms on the table and dropping his head onto them, he mutters, "not... not really. I- I um- it was just... easier to laugh it off." His finger dejectedly traces idle shapes on the table. "This'll make an even 85, suppose that's as good a number as any to stop." He laments to himself.

"Ask me again."

"What?" He head shoots up in surprise.

"Ask me again." Ghost repeats.

"O- okay..." he picks at the skin around his thumbnail, "uhm.. I- uh.. would you.. gooutwithme?" He rushes the question out, not really wanting to drag out the inevitable answer.

"Ok." He said it so simple.

"I- huh?" He freezes.

"I want to go out with you." Ghost looks him in the eye. It makes soap's heart do a weird thing.

"Okay." He can't help the smile that spits his face, his knee bounces with giddiness, and he can't help but nudge Ghost boot with the toe of his own. Ghost does it back.

Tags: @queermentaldisaster @spottlessspectre @27potatochips @opiumprincess @canyoubethestalkertomytango @unhingedpolycule @bluebrryice @softberrybi @coquetterie-dancer @stuffireadandenjoy

Prolly gonna shove this on ao3 later

[fanaticsnail]

law for kissing booth please 👉👈

(or shachi if he's already got a ton of requests, or if your heart feels this would be a better read, dealer's choice!<3)

The Kissing Booth - Law for Bby-Deerling

Word Count: 1,400+ (They are meant to be drabble length, I got carried away)

Notes: This was the first request for Law in the kissing booth, and I seriously hope I have done your boy some justice. It was meant to be a little drabble, but I wanted to capture a little bit of longing in there for him. Come get a kiss from your main man, Deerling!

Sitting patiently on your wooden stool, you heard several strings of barked laughter off ahead. Lulling your head to the side, you furrow your brows in an attempt to pick up on the hushed conversation between them. Loud cackles, soft chuckles and jokes both crude in nature, and quite hilarious prompted you to giggle along with them. 

“It’s two per ride for the ferris wheel,” a more feminine voice chirped out enthusiastically, “What do you say, Bepo? Want to join me for a loop?” A joyful yell of glee sounded more akin to an emphatic roar joined the chorus, along with two other voices arguing alongside.

“Oi, no fair, Ikkaku!” a nasally voice called out, followed by a deeper baritone thereafter of, “Yeah, that means one of us will have to sit out!” More arguing insured, a soft, kind voice interrupting and saying: “I’m happy to miss out, Ikkaku. I’m likely a bit too big to ride, anyway.” 

You tried to drown out the arguing, softly tapping your knees and focussing on the different sounds, smells and the soft feeling of warm wind falling against your skin from the ocean shore. The blindfold was a strange comfort to you, the warmth of the silky material feeling at home over your eyes and almost welcome the longer you wore it. 

“No, Bepo. You go on ahead. I’ll sit out this round,” another gruff voice spoke lower, and far more even-toned informed them. No further arguments occurred, the sound of laughter and gratitude flew away from your vacinity. 

Softly angling your face away from the booth, you drew your hands up to begin toying with the edged hem of the eye shield against your face, adjusting it so the material lay flush with your skin as to remain more comfortable beneath the shroud. You shook your head, adjusting your hair before sitting upright and waiting for your next guest to approach the booth.

As if on queue, a soft rustle of paper pressed itself into the jar beside you as the guest presented their Berry offering to your humble booth. You smiled inquisitively, turning towards where you suspected the guest was to be. 

“This seat taken?” The deep voice from earlier asked you politely, “I just need to sit down for a bit, and all the other seats around seem to be otherwise occupied.” You nod with an empathetic smile, gesturing to the general vicinity to where the wooden stool was placed in front of you.

“It's all yours. I noticed a bit of a lull in the crowd, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like,” you shrugged, relaxing into your chair and enjoying the laughter from the various rides and booths surrounding. 

Music began to play on the grand stage, soft finger plucking of a familiar melody painted the air with its mastery. A vocalist, bassist and drummer joined in on the chorus, singing their hearts out to create melodies and harmonies within the grounds. Both of you sitting in front of one another seemed to both have a similar idea, humming along to the tune and both smiling at one another when you caught the other singing. 

“You been here long?” the guest asked you after the song concluded, prompting you to think about the duration of your volunteering position in the booth.

“You know, I’m not entirely sure,” you laugh through your nose as your smile turns shy, “As soon as the blindfold went on, it’s like everything became too long and too little all at once.” You offer him a slight shrug, turning away and listening to the drums begin to click in the next tune. 

“I hear that. That’s how most of my time ends up nowadays, sans blindfold of course,” he offered you the same dry laugh through his nose, causing your attention to fall back to him. “My crew, they just know how to test me sometimes. Doesn’t mean I love them any less.” You nod attentively to his confession, reaching forward and gesturing for him to take your hand. 

“Aren’t friends marvelous?” you giggle at him, squeezing his hand once he placed his within your grip, “That’s how I came into volunteering for this mess: friendship. The things we do for the people we love.” He returned your gesture, almost apprehensive in the way he squeezed your hand in turn. 

“Speaking of, they're likely to return back in a moment,” he uttered in a voice just above a whisper, “So, do you mind if I…?” You lulled your head to the side and smiled at him curiously. 

“If you…?” you asked in return, gasping in a shocked breath as you felt cool fingertips brush your hair away from your face, prompting you to gasp out a soft, "Oh!" You felt his lips hovering over yours, his breath meeting with your skin and the temperature of his face elevating your own to flush your cheeks with. 

“I thought,” his lips whispered and caressed your skin with a gentleness you didn't anticipate, “Since I'm already here, you know?” His lips tingled against yours, the tangible heat falling from them the closer he inched forward. He hesitated, holding his face an eyelash’s width away from your lips, “If that's okay with you, I mean.”

Nodding gently, you lean forward and close the final distance between you, and claim his lips beneath yours in a soft kiss. Wasting no time, your guest cards his fingers over your scalp and draws your face closer to his to deepen the embrace you're sharing together. 

He releases your hand and raises it to join his other hand in cradling your face while arching into you. You feel his toned chest pressed against your own, knees slotting together like pieces of a puzzle in perfect synchrony. Angling his chin, he softly parts his lips and deepens the embrace, humming against your mouth and claiming more of you into him. 

Your hands find purchase on his thighs before raking up his legs to rest on his hips, slowly mapping his skin and committing each ridge and divot to memory. You feel your chin meet with the subtle scruff of facial hair, the coarse strands scraping against your face and tickling your skin beneath it. 

Tilting your face, you both begin to mouth at each other and turn and tilt your heads to match each other's intensite energy. Passion begins to simmer in your chest each moment that passes between you. His hands move to grasp the scruff of your neck, holding you stationary as he allows himself the luxury of taking complete control and dominating the kiss. 

His tongue darts from between his lips, caressing and tingling against your skin before you welcome him into the kiss by grinding your own against his. Just as you begin to deepen the motion, you're both brought out of your trance by whistles and hollars echoing around your booth. 

“Wooh, get ‘em, Cap’n!” the nasally voice cackled from earlier, the baritone counterpart joining in with, “Use your tongue! More tongue!” Several whistles reverberated around you, prompting your guest to freeze against your lips.

Smiling, you press a final kiss against him to seal the embrace with a finality before fully pulling away from him. 

“Sorry ‘bout them,” he grunted sheepishly, his close proximity causing you to feel the flush radiating from his features against your hands and face. “My crew… they're a lot.” 

“Ah, the earlier sentiment returns,” you chuckle warmly, “Aren't friends marvelous.” He joins your chuckle, softly releasing you from his embrace and caressing your cheek beneath his palm. 

“Thank you for your company,” he uttered softly, “I appreciate your conversation, and-... and the other thing. It's been a while since I've-... You know?” You fill in the blanks mentally and offer him a soft, polite nod in affirmation. 

“Thank you for offering me company at my booth,” you smile up at him, releasing your hands from their position on his hips. He lingers on the stool for a moment longer before getting up with an exasperated sigh. 

“Alright, let's go,” he gruffly ordered, the troop behind him grunting out a soft, “Aye, sir,” in response. You wave to him, not truly aware if he was paying attention to you or not, but offering him an extension of your politeness regardless. 

Law was paying attention, trying to catch his breath and extinguish his growing fluster tinting his cheeks. He was truly moved by your kindness, your conversation, and the way you so easily matched his energy with each motion. He was hoping to catch you at the end of the festival, but hoping to not seem overeager to earn more teasing from his subordinates. 

Only time will tell if you were open to seeing him again, but he truly hoped you would.

[bunnliix]

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Eight

Okie, I know I said this wasn't gonna get finished tonight. I lied. But to be fair, I was able to relax and write this at the same time, also I had idea help, so thank you @ja3hwa baby!! I love youuuu <3 <3 *kiss kiss*

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader  Summary: Y/n heads to the pack den with Mingi and Wooyoung, shenanigans ensue, and a cute moment with a member. wc: 1.8 k AU: a/b/o  Genre: Fluff/Angst  Nets: @newworldnet warnings: anxiety?, dissasociation kinda?, cursing as always, yelling and people getting mad, Hongjoong interrogating others, mentions of injuries, mentions of a hospital, mentions of the scandal/Dispatch bs, y/n is just struggling a bit rn, but Wooyoung and Mingi have her. I think that's everything?? Honestly we're working with half a braincell here rn I'm sorry! masterlist

Y/n hadn’t really processed the day so far. Frankly, it had been a blur, and she was grateful for the two men for helping her. She never envisioned getting into a scandal, let alone one with the members of Ateez. She just stared out the car window, watching the scenery go by as Wooyoung held onto her hand.

“Are you okay, baby omega?” She heard him ask, and she found she could only nod her head to tell him she was okay, she didn’t feel talkative at the moment. All of her courage from the day seems to have disappeared into thin air.

She felt him squeeze her hand as she continued to stare at the window. She tried to shake herself out of this unfocused state, but only succeeded in making her a bit more aware of her surroundings. She realized that Mingi kept looking back at her through the rear view mirror, a look of concern clearly seen on his face. She imagined that Wooyoung had the same look on his face.

As she had this realization, Mingi pulled into their spot at their apartment building. “We’re here.” Wooyoung gently informed y/n. She shook her head, looking over at him with slight confusion in her eyes. She hadn’t exactly been listening to what the omega told Mingi when they got in the car.

Mingi noticed her confusion, “Wooyoung asked me to bring us back to the pack den.” He told her gently.

“Oh. Okay.” She replied, not sure what to say to that. She wasn’t pack, so she couldn’t think of why Wooyoung would bring her back to his pack den. She had her own nesting materials back at the dorm, so she would have been fine to go back there instead.

She zoned out once again, until she realized she was being picked up and held in someone’s arms. She squeaked in surprise, looking up to find she was in Mingi’s arms once again. She squirmed and tried to get out of his arms, only for the tall alpha to hold her tighter. “Don’t try and get down. It’s better for you to stay here, with your injury.” She was told by the alpha.

Once in the building, it doesn’t take long for the trio to reach their floor and then to reach the aforementioned pack den. Y/n was still not allowed to walk as they entered the apartment, as Wooyoung took it upon himself to take off her shoes after removing his own, and was given y/n as Mingi took off his own shoes. Y/n took this as an opportunity to escape, taking the chance while Wooyoung held onto her loosely, and she squirmed and successfully got out of the other omega’s grip. The problem was that Mingi blocked the entrance, so she decided to run for one of the rooms and hide out for a bit. Was it a smart idea? Probably not. She went with it anyways, it’s been a day and her brain wasn’t exactly working at 100%.

“Yah! Get back here!” Wooyoung yelled after her as she took off, quickly finding a room and hiding in it, finding a walk-in closet to hide in. She hid herself in between the low hanging clothes and quieted her breathing. There didn’t seem to be anyone in here, but the smell of the clothes was very nice. It was a very calming scent that surrounded her, and due to her exhaustion after only part of a busy day, she ended up falling asleep quicker than she realized.

With WooGi…

“Well, fuck.” Mingi said simply. “Good job Wooyoung. Now we have to go and find her.” He deadpanned, and Wooyoung whined at the scolding he received.

“I didn’t think she’d try and get out of my hold. She seemed like she had calmed down by the time we got up here.”

“Well now we have to find her, idiot.”

“You’re an idiot too, you just stood here with me!”

“Why are the both of you fighting?” Seonghwa interrupted them, an eyebrow raised.

“No reason.” The two say in unison, making Seonghwa even more suspicious.

However, before he could try and get more out of them, Hongjoong comes through the door. He pushed past the two younger men and quickly disappeared deeper into the dorm, ignoring the other occupants.

He had not had a good day, after sitting in on every single interview and trying to find out who had sent those pictures to Dispatch. It was unsuccessful, besides the expulsion of the beta who assaulted the sole omega trainee of the group, over her involvement in the photos. Hongjoong didn’t blame her in the slightest, he knew how vicious the industry and the fans were, and she had done nothing wrong. She hadn’t even touched a hair on two of his packmates, he knew that from the staff member’s assurances. All he wanted was his favorite hoodie and to disappear into the home studio to produce for the rest of the night.

Heading into his room, he found the door slightly ajar, not really thinking much of it, since the others did tend to steal his stuff if they needed the reassurance that came from his scent and he wasn’t around to provide that calm himself. The omegas were the ones who often stole his clothing the most. He quickly headed into his closet, finding the piece of clothing he was looking for, but as he tried to pull the hanger out, he found that he was unable to. Maybe it was stuck on something? He thought, and moved the hangers on one side of the hanger in question, only to find someone holding onto the sleeve of his hoodie as they slept. It wasn’t one of the boys, none of them would do this. They would have just taken it from his closet and room. He squatted down, taking a closer look and finding it was the omega, y/n. How did she even get here? He was concerned, but not for how she got here, that she felt safe enough to fall asleep in his closet.

They weren’t close, they hadn't had the chance to talk much, other than the day before. So it was odd that his scent, because he knew that’s what it was, was already something her omega found safe. His alpha found it endearing, that she felt protected and safe surrounded by things that had his scent. He felt protective over her, and he didn’t quite know where this feeling came from, but it was similar, if not the same, to the feeling that he felt with his other members when they were originally paired together over half a decade ago. He felt the tiniest bit of a smile make its way onto his face.

“You just had to go and find yourself here, didn’t you? I’m surprised you didn’t find Hwa’s room instead, I figure he would have been more comforting, yes? Though I wonder who brought you here, since I doubt you knew that we lived here, or how to get in.” He talked to himself really, since y/n was deeply asleep.

He couldn’t leave her here, she’d be sore when she woke up. He steeled himself for what he was about to do. Hongjoong carefully and slowly pulled her out from underneath the closet rail, and then gently took her into his arms, freezing when she stirred slightly, before falling back asleep. He quickly, but without jostling her too much, moved her from the closet floor, deciding that the easiest place to put her at that moment was on the bed, his bed. He gently placed her down on his bed, before pulling the blanket out from underneath her, trying his best not to disturb her. The only movement from her was to pull the rest of his hoodie closer to herself. He chuckled softly, so quietly it was almost inaudible. Once freeing the blankets from underneath the omega, he pulled them over her, tucking her in, and completely on instinct, placing a kiss on her forehead, just like he would with Seonghwa or Wooyoung when they fell asleep in odd places.

He froze once he realized what he had just done, and quickly turned around and left his room, having decided on giving up on his original mission. He made his way to the living room, where he found the three members he bypassed earlier while entering the pack dorm. He walked closer to the three, as he asked, “Who wants to tell me why I had an omega, specifically y/n, the trainee/auditionee, asleep in my closet? Let alone why she was here in the first place, at the pack dorm?”

Wooyoung immediately looked away from either of the ‘98 liners, who immediately knew that it was his choices that led to this.

“Wooyoung wanted to go see y/n because of Dispatch, I wouldn’t let him go alone because he would have made stupid decisions and I didn’t want to get in trouble for letting him go alone. We found y/n in the practice room, one of the betas had injured her earlier this morning and Wooyoung had made the injury worse after tackling her, so we took her to the hospital to get it treated. Wooyoungie felt so protective over her and decided we were coming here instead, I assume because he was either going to trap her somewhere in the apartment, maybe the nest.” Mingi quickly explained, since the younger omega had no intentions to.

“Thank you for explaining, Mingi-yah.” Hongjoong thanked him.

“She’s okay?” Wooyoung asked, concern in his eyes as he looked at Hongjoong.

“Yes. She is okay. However, how did she end up in my room in the first place?” Hongjoong said, to which Wooyoung sighed in relief before looking away again.

“She may have gotten out of my arms after Mingi wouldn’t let her down, and then she was passed over for me to carry while he took his shoes off. Then she ran for it, and ended up in your room.” Wooyoung said, still not looking at either of the older members.

Hongjoong sighed, though he was grateful for the explanation. “Well, she’s asleep in my bed now. She fell asleep in my closet holding onto my favorite hoodie. She seemed exhausted, so we will let her sleep. No Wooyoung, you are not to go into my room and potentially wake her up. She’s had a troublesome day, she deserves the sleep.” He told them, practically ordering Wooyoung.

He turned to Seonghwa, “I’m sorry for ignoring you earlier, darling. I’ve had a bit of a long day at the company.”

Seonghwa nodded, though he had an amused look on his face. ”I figured, love. It’s okay, I understand.” He said as he stood up, coming over and kissing the pack alpha’s cheek, before heading to his own room.

“Okay, I’m heading to the studio here for a while. Mingi, keep an eye on Youngie please.” He received a yell in response to his request, from said person. “Don’t let him wake her up. If he does, you’ll be responsible and punished for it.” He told the younger two, before heading off, hearing arguing as he headed down the hall to his little home studio.

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[poppy-metal]

gawwwddd i was thinking about you being their girl best friend and patrick and art haaattting any guy you date…. constantly talking shit about them trying to get you to break up etc etc……. art thinks its just bc he’s a good friend trying to protect you from these scumbag guys you keep seeing….. patrick wants to fuck your brains out….. (art too but he won’t admit it to himself….)

they ask - patrick mostly - the most insanely invasive questions under the guise of just wanting to gossip with you. they always tell you gross details about their hookups, fairs fair.

"he didn't eat you out? what a fucking chode. how did you even cum then?" like why do you want to know so badly about how im coming with another man? why are you so outraged on my behalf? why is art chiming in when you reply "does it matter? its hard to like... get there anyway so why make a fuss," with his own two cents on the matter - "it matters to me. i mean, when im with a girl i want her to cum. its like, the best part of the whole thing."

and patrick is nodding like, "see he gets it. its like - when a girls pussy -" oh my god, you're flushing you cant believe they're talking about this so casually, even if you're friends. "- clamps down on my dick when she cums, its fucking fireworks, man."

"well thats wonderful for you patrick - and you art. im so glad you know more about pussy than i do, truly."

"we just want you to have a good time." art tells you, in that stupid soft voice of his. "you know - actually cum for once."

patrick blows out smoke from his cig. he grins at you, wolfish. digs his foot into your hip - "yeah, we care for your mental health." he prods you further. "and the well being of your tight little p-"

"okay!" you swat his foot off you. "jesus you're like two big older brothers.... so fucking nosy...."

you continue to grumble under your breath and patrick and art share a look. patrick tries not to smirk around his cigarette and art licks his lips. they both have to reach down to adjust themselves.

"brothers, huh." patrick says sagely.

"huh." art echoes.

patrick thinks the way he'd show you what an orgasm feels like on his tongue isn't very brotherly of him, but he digresses.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Hold My Hand

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Jack Kline & teen!reader

Requested by @gabrielasilva1510

Synopsis: you and Jack are always there for each other

Warnings: fighting, people want to kill Jack, angst with a happy ending, probably continuity errors because season 12-14 is kind of a blur to me

“We have to find her.”

“We don’t even know where to start.”

“There’s gotta be something we can do, she can’t have gotten far.”

“Why don’t we just let her go?”

All eyes turned to you when you interrupted Team Free Will in the middle of an argument.

“That’s not an option,” Dean scoffed. “She’s carrying Lucifer 2.0, we’ve got to stop her before he’s born.”

“Just because Lucifer’s his dad, doesn’t mean he’s gonna be evil,” you argued. “He didn’t do anything, and if Kelly wants to have this baby, why should we stop her?”

“It will kill her,” Cas said.

“And yet she said she wants to have him anyway,” you countered.

“Whoa whoa, can we back up to when I said, Lucifer’s son?” Dean said. “It’s evil, we kill it, no argument.”

“It’s not like he’s done anything!” You said. “He’s innocent! He didn’t ask to have Lucifer for a dad, and he can’t be evil before he’s even born.”

“Look, does any of this matter?” Sam cut in before the argument could get more heated. “We can’t find Kelly, so there’s nothing we can do yet anyway.”

“Fine,” Dean huffed. “But when we find her, there’s no argument. We can’t take a chance with that thing.”

“He’s not a thing, Dean.” You glared at your brother, but nobody said anything more to continue the argument.

…

The argument was inconsequential—you didn’t find Kelly in time. Well, you and your brothers didn’t.

But Cas did, and he paid the price.

You didn’t reach Jack fast enough to stop Dean from shooting him, and once he knocked the three of you out and disappeared you weren’t able to stop Dean from going on a hunt to end him. Once Cas was gone, Dean was more convinced than ever that killing Jack was right, and you just didn’t seem able to get Dean to listen to you anymore.

“You’ve been quiet,” Sam observed when the two of you got a moment away from Dean.

“Why won’t he listen?” You sighed. “I-I know he’s hurt because of Cas, but we all are. Just because he’s gone doesn’t mean it’s Jack’s fault, and it’s not fair to hunt him down because of it.”

“Jack?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Well, I think. I saw it painted on the wall in Kelly’s house, I think that’s what she wanted to name him. He’s not just Lucifer’s son, Sam, no matter what Dean thinks. He has a name, and he doesn’t have to be evil just because Lucifer’s his dad, or-or because Kelly died in childbirth, or because Cas died to protect him. Those are all decisions that other people made, not Jack.”

“I understand what you’re saying. I just don’t think Dean does.”

“I’ve tried to tell him,” you said. “I’ve tried a hundred times. He doesn’t want to listen.”

“I know,” Sam said. “But he’s in pain. We’ve got to cut him some slack.”

“If we cut him too much slack, then we’re just signing Jack’s death warrant.” You sighed. “I can’t do that, Sam. If I do, then Kelly and Cas died for nothing.”

Sam opened his mouth to respond, but closed it quickly when he saw Dean returning to the Impala.

…

Finding Jack wasn’t as hard as Dean was afraid it would be. On the way to a lead, Sam and Dean restarted the argument about Jack.

“I’m sorry, are you defending the son of Satan?” Dean scoffed after Sam tried to calm Dean down.

“I’m not defending anything, it’s just—“

“I am,” you butted in. “The only reason Jack attacked us is because you shot him!”

“Hey!” Dean smacked his hand against the steering wheel. “I shot the monster, that’s what we do!”

“Jack’s not a monster!” You blurted.

“Jack?” Dean scoffed. “It’s Lucifer’s son, not some new best friend. And he killed Kelly, and…” Dean’s voice stuttered. “And Cas…”

“Jack didn’t kill them!” You insisted. “They wanted to protect him, that doesn’t make it his fault!”

Dean opened his mouth to yell at you, his fingers whitening on the steering wheel, when Sam interrupted.

“Guys, we’re here.”

Dean gritted his teeth as he pulled into the parking lot.

“The only plan I have right now is killing that thing before he kills anyone else.”

“Is Cas…” Sam swallowed. “Is Cas really gone?”

“You know he is.”

…

Once the three of you finally tracked Jack to a police station, Sam managed to taser him before the three of you got arrested by the very suspicious cop.

You and Sam were left with Jack in a holding cell while Dean talked to the woman—no doubt, he was trying to convince her to help him kill Jack. At least, that’s what you were afraid of. Even Sam, who you considered much more on your side, was pressing himself against the farthest wall from Jack when he woke up.

Once Jack relaxed and his yellow eyes faded, you approached him even as Sam held back.

“Y/N…” Sam whispered warily, but you ignored him, opting to sit next to Jack on a hard metal bench. Jack watched you silently for a moment before offering a small smile and turning his attention back to Sam, who was trying to ask him some questions.

“Will you tell them I’m sorry?” Jack asked him. You saw the guilt in his eyes, and it twisted your gut—Jack had never meant to hurt anyone, and he must’ve been so scared when Dean shot him.

“Um…yeah,” Sam agreed.

Sam continued to question him, and you continued to remain by Jack’s side. You were sure it was making Sam nervous—his eyes kept glancing towards you, and his hands were twitching, as though he was prepared to act at any moment. But you could also tell that it was calming Jack. The changes were subtle, but you could almost feel rather than see him…not leaning in your direction, but more like relaxing towards you, like a flower growing towards sunlight.

Once Jack announced that he’d had to grow up quickly because the world was dangerous, you felt yourself understanding him more and more. Sam seemed to relax when Jack claimed that Castiel was his chosen father, not Lucifer. The more Jack spoke, the more the two of you realized that this was not some monster, some devil-spawn—he was just a kid.

And it all was going so well until Dean returned.

Jack was still stiff and silent after learning that Cas was dead, so he didn’t acknowledge Dean’s presence. You wanted to go and make sure that Dean didn’t still plan to kill Jack, but Sam beat you to Dean, and you didn’t want to leave Jack alone. Still, you listened carefully as Sam tried to convince Dean that Jack was just a kid.

The brothers were interrupted by a cry for help—Dean went to investigate, leaving the three of you stranded in the cell. He wasn’t gone thirty seconds when to angels broke down the door. Once they were inside, Jack doubled over in pain, stumbling against the wall.

“Jack!” You cried out, reaching over and steadying him. One of the angels ripped the door off its hinges, and Sam and the angel fought while you stayed by Jack’s side, keeping yourself between him and the other angel.

Sam was on the floor in a minute, overwhelmed by the angel. You were conflicted for a moment—did you help Sam, or Jack?—but the angel ignored Sam once he was on the floor, going straight to Jack. It only took one swift blow to get you out of the way, your head slamming painfully against the rough stone wall of the jail cell.

“Jack…” you whimpered, watching as the angels grabbed him and marched him towards the exit.

“Hey!” Sam yelled, and you turned to see him press his bloody palm against the angel-repelling symbol he’d finger-drawn in blood. The angels were gone in a bright flash of light, and Jack remained, kneeling in pain by the door.

“Jack.” You jumped to your feet, staggering a little as the blood rushed to your head, but you still managed to reach Jack and grab hold of his shoulder. “Jack, are you ok?”

Before he could answer, the door slammed open to reveal a third and final angel wielding an angel blade. Sam grabbed one the other angel had dropped and jumped in front of Jack. You stayed right by Jack’s side as he stood to his feet.

“Don’t.” Sam said.

“Or what, other one?” The Angel scoffed.

“Guess.” Dean grunted, entering right behind her.

You felt your hand subconsciously finding Jack’s as you took a half-step forward, trying to block his body with your own. You saw Jack glance at you out of the corner of your eye—he looked confused—but his hand squeezed yours even tighter.

“If I can’t have him, no one can,” the angel promised, twisting her blade and driving into Jack’s chest.

“No!” You cried as Sam killed her with one swift jab. The three of you watched with bated breath as Jack grabbed hold of the angel blade and slowly removed it.

“I…I’m fine,” he breathed.

Sam and Dean stared at each other, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bloody hole in the middle of Jack’s chest.

“I’m fine,” Jack repeated, his hand once again finding yours.

…

You sat with Jack while Sam and Dean discussed the options. It didn’t take long to decide—Jack would be going with you. Of course, you were almost certain that it was because Dean was looking for a way to kill him, but you would take what you could get for now.

You finally separated from Jack when the four of you returned to the cabin. Dean went in to prepare Cas’s body, and Jack wanted to see his mother one last time. You couldn’t bring yourself to go in—to see what you’d lost. So you waited outside until both bodies were brought out to burn.

You saw Sam speaking to Jack while Dean poured gasoline on the pyre, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. Sam and Dean spoke, but it was like you were in a play, one where two characters went off to talk but no one else on stage was supposed to hear what they were saying. Their words weren’t quiet, and they were mere inches from you, but you couldn’t make it out anyway. Then Dean tossed his lighter into the fire, and you watched as flames engulfed the two covered bodies. You wanted to look away—to close your eyes, as if that would somehow make anything better—but you couldn’t tear your gaze away. You felt like an unwilling witness to the burning blaze that took your friends away—away to somewhere better, you hoped. The smoke rose up, and you watched it as if hoping to see their souls rising with it—off to a better world, a world without so much pain.

Jack’s hand on your arm snapped you out of your daze. He looked for a moment as if he didn’t know what he was doing. But then his hand found yours, and you felt it—a reassuring squeeze. His hand was warm, and his touch was comforting. Your gaze met his for the briefest of moments, before both of you looked back at the fire.

But not before your hand squeezed his back.

…

“I don’t like that,” Dean grumbled to Sam. Sam looked at him, confused, and Dean gestured to the back seat. Jack was asleep against the window, and somewhere along the line you’d gone from sleeping on your own window to sleeping on Jack’s shoulder. “We shouldn’t be letting her get that close to it. As soon as we figure out how to kill a nephilim, he’s gone.”

“Dean, we don’t know that he’s evil,” Sam reasoned.

“Yes we do, Sam. And every time we try to cheat, try to pretend that the bad guys aren’t so bad, people end up dead. So now we’re gonna do what we should always do—end the problem.”

Both boys halted their conversation when they saw you stir—getting you involved would only make the argument worse; they knew where you stood on the issue.

“Dean, the problem might be the only way to save mom,” Sam argued.

“Mom is gone.”

…

You awoke to a blinding motel sign blinking above the Impala.

“We should be on the road,” Dean was arguing to Sam.

“Dean, you were hallucinating sheep. We need a few hours,” Sam countered.

“This is nice!” Jack said enthusiastically when he saw the dingy, near-rotting motel room. You found yourself smiling at his eagerness while Sam and Dean dropped their bags on the ground.

“Wow,” Jack breathed when he turned on the tv and a Scooby-Doo episode started playing. “This is…wonderful.”

You grinned, settling down next to him on one of the beds to watch, when Dean stepped over.

“Hey, no,” he said, moving to turn it off. He hesitated when he saw the show, almost smiling at what it was. You were just starting to hope that Dean was coming around when the smile dropped and he clicked the tv off. “You’re on the couch sport, move,” he said to Jack. “Y/N, I guess you’re sharing my bed tonight.” Dean snatched a bible off the counter and tossed it to Jack. “Here, why don’t you read a book.”

“I’m gonna stay up for a little bit,” you said, going to sit by Jack on the couch. Dean pursed his lips, but said nothing.

Sam left and returned quickly with burgers. The four of you chowed down—you watched as Jack started to mimic all of Dean’s movements, and you had to bite back a smile when Dean started to get annoyed with it.

After dinner, you dozed off. Sometime in the night, Donatello arrived, but you didn’t wake until you started to hear raised voices. You sat up on the couch and noticed Jack next to you. He was watching Sam, Dean, and Donatello argue about him—mostly Sam and Dean.

“He doesn’t have to be evil!” Sam was saying. “We don’t know that he isn’t more like Cas and Kelly than Lucifer!”

“I’m right here you know!” Jack argued, but no one listened.

“Yeah but he’s not Kelly, not Cas, he’s the freakin devil!”

You flinched in surprise when Jack disappeared from next to you. Dean turned to look at him, growling in annoyance when he saw Jack was gone.

“Nice going, Dean,” you huffed, jumping to your feet and running out to find Jack. You slammed the door in Dean’s face before he could respond.

…

“Hey Jack.” You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw Jack, sitting on a crate in an alleyway outside of the motel. You had a feeling he could’ve just as easily transported himself to Hawaii, so you were more than relieved that he hadn’t gone far.

Jack tucked his head into his arms as if trying to escape you.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Everyone was so angry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you sighed.

“I guess you just wanted to be away from it all.” You hadn’t noticed Sam following you until he spoke.

“And suddenly, I was,” Jack sighed. You felt your gut twist at the guilt in his voice—he didn’t want his power, you could feel it. It must be so overwhelming for him, to just think or feel something and have it happen.

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. “I’ll tell you what, you’ve got some special skills, Jack. We just need to make sure you get a grip on them, so you don’t hurt anybody.”

“Is that why Dean hates me?” Jack asked, and you had to remind yourself to stay calm—you loved Dean, but right now you’d never wanted to hit him more.

Jack and Sam continued to talk about Dean, and about Jack’s own powers, but again you found your mind wandering. You didn’t know what to do, but for some reason you felt that more than anything, you wanted to protect this kid. You’d never met anyone like him—he was so kind, so inquisitive, so bright and happy—and you felt like he was someone you needed in the world.

“I just don’t know if I’m worth all this.” Jack’s tearful confession brought you back to the present.

“You’re mom thought you were,” Sam told him. “So did Cas. So do I.”

“Me too,” you jumped in. “Jack, I believe you can control your powers. And I believe that you deserve a chance here. I believe that you’re worth that.”

You weren’t sure if he moved or if you did, but somehow Jack’s hand was grasped in yours once again. It just felt right—like he was a wind chime, beautiful when moved in the right direction, and you were the string holding him up—you made each other better; you made each other work.

…

Dean’s relationship with Jack didn’t change much after you guys brought him back to the bunker—even after Jack saved you all from Asmodeus. Dean tried his best to keep you away from Jack, but he was never successful. The only thing he could do was never leave you alone in the bunker with him—which he made sure to do.

That plan backfired one day when Dean took you with him for a supply run—he didn’t need you, but you’d been “spending too much time with the devil’s kid” recently, so he took you out anyway.

Which would have been fine, if a certain Knight of Hell hadn’t been on the loose.

You’d wandered away from Dean in the parking lot—he was heading inside the store, but you turned off at the last moment, something catching your eye in the alleyway just outside. You didn’t know what it was, or why you turned; instinct, maybe. Nonetheless, you hadn’t taken two steps into the alley when you heard—

“Ah, yes. You’ll do nicely.”

—and you felt something smack the back of your head with a sickening crunch, bringing darkness to your vision and numbness to your bones, before you suddenly couldn’t feel anything at all.

…

Pain. After a time, it was all you remembered. You woke to it every day, and passed out from it every night. At least, that’s how you imagined it—you couldn’t tell the difference between night and day in the dank, gloomy stone tomb that you’d spent the last few…days? Weeks?—in. You didn’t know anymore. It didn’t matter anymore.

The slow scrape of stone on stone forewarned more pain as you sagged against the rusted chains that bit into your bloody-soaked wrists.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name was jarring in a place where your identity never seemed to matter. You struggled to lift your head, seeing first the shadow of the stranger, then his shoes, all the way until you could make out the silhouette of a face.

“Y/N! Dean, I found her!”

The voice felt familiar, but in an indistinct way; like seeing someone who recognized you, but you couldn’t place their face.

Large hands on your face had all the breath leaving your lungs as you whimpered in fear.

“Hey, hey it’s ok. N/N it’s me, you’re ok.”

The name came to you as if from a nearly-forgotten dream.

“Sammy?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Sam’s voice was gentle as he reached over and started to work at the locks holding your chains in place. You didn’t notice Dean approaching, but when your chains gave way and your knees buckled, Dean was there to catch you.

“It’s ok sweetheart. We’re gonna take you home.”

…

You’d been in your room for three days. Sam and Dean had been going in and trying to coax you out, but you hadn’t moved, spoken, or even had anything to eat. Dean had kept Jack out of your room completely, despite both Jack and Sam’s protests.

“Look, I know you don’t trust him, but he and Y/N…they’ve connected, Dean. She likes him, and she trusts him. He could help her.”

“What, you think he can do something we can’t?” Dean scoffed.

“Maybe,” Sam answered honestly. “But it can’t hurt to try.”

“Yes it cou-“

“No, no it couldn’t,” Sam stopped Dean before he could even finish. “Jack won’t hurt her, Dean. He just won’t. I know you hate it, but they care about each other, and you can’t stop that.”

Dean gritted his teeth, mulling over Sam’s words.

“Fine. But if it doesn’t work, then he stays away.”

Sam sighed.

“Deal.”

…

Sam grabbed Dean’s arm, stopping him before he could follow Jack into your room.

“Just give them a little space,” Sam whispered. Dean scowled, but stayed in the doorway.

“Y/N?” Jack’s voice was quiet, but you flinched anyway. “It’s ok, it’s me, it’s Jack.”

Your head lifted, only about an inch, and your eyes flicked up to Jack before you looked back down.

“I really missed you around here,” Jack continued, climbing up to sit next to you on your bed. Dean stiffened, but Sam held his arm to keep him from interrupting.

You stayed silent, but Jack was patient.

“Nothing was the same around here. I’m glad you’re back, I just…I wish you felt safe now, because you are. You’re safe here, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again.” Jack’s hand inched towards yours, but Dean interrupted.

“Ok, you tried. Now come on.”

“Dean—“ Sam began, but Jack didn’t argue. He just stood slowly to his feet and started towards your door.

“Jack.”

Your voice stopped Jack in his tracks. He turned to look at you, and his worried brow relaxed when he saw your hand reaching out for his. He took two steps and was in front of you again, reaching forwards and grasping your hand in his.

“Hey Y/N.” Jack smiled. You returned his smile with a weak one of your own.

“Hi Jack.”

And Jack knew that it would all be ok.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for continuing to try and reach out to my half-sibling, even though my mom "doesn't like it"?

So, I (20F) haven't known my dad, as he left when I was too young to remember it and then he died. I don't actually know much about him, or any relatives I have on that side (as my mom won't tell me much), but I know a few names, and specifically those of my half-siblings. One, who I'm calling S, is apparently my sister. I've known about her my whole life, and have wanted to contact her in some way also for a very long time. Well, I found S on Facebook when I decided I wanted to try and find anybody the other week, and have attempted reaching out. It's gone well so far, she's been really nice, but I haven't brought up the related part because I just don't know how. I tried to look up how to go about this, and most things I find just say to "not get your hopes up" and to "ask a relative for help", so... I asked my mom if she had any idea how I should go about that, since I don't know, and she's generally better at talking with people than I am.

My mom instead blew up at me, and told me that she doesn't like that I'm trying to reach out to S, doesn't like that I want to know anything about my dad, doesn't want me doing this, doesn't like me doing this, and that "not everything is about you you're not the only one who was affected by that". When I tried to ask for a reason why she doesn't want me to, all she had to say was that "it's not fair S had a dad and you didn't", and "they never helped or reached out to me even though they knew about you". (Though, I'm unsure how unbiased this statement might be, since she's always had a tendency to blame everyone close to people who have upset her for the one persons actions)

I haven't brought it up, but quite honestly I want to keep talking to S and try to bring it up anyways, but now I'm worried I'll be an asshole for it.

On one hand, I'm an adult and I think I deserve to try at least, and I think my mom's reasons shouldn't be impacting my choices (yeah it's unfair I didn't have a dad, but that's his fault not S's? and yeah no one helped her or anything before, but why does that mean I can't even try to reach out?), but on the other... Obviously this upsets her, and I think me wanting this has crossed some sort of line with her or something?

So... I guess, what do you people out here think? Would I be an asshole if I just ignored my mom and did it anyways?? Because I'm not sure anymore... (and apologies if this is "above tumblr's paygrade" or anything)

[myokk]

fast sketch of my one-shot with Ominis💓

legilimency

Word count: 1.700

Rating: M (language)

Ominis Gaunt is a lost case - lost to the whims of one very determined Gryffindor sitting at his side.

They sit in the back of the History of Magic classroom, the only two students not lulled to somnolence by their professor. He: trying his hardest to focus on Professor Binns’ droning (easier said than done). She: trying her hardest to distract Ominis while not being entirely sure of being successful or not (easier attempted than understood).

Professor Binns is completely insufferable, of course. Ominis wonders if the ghost is as blind as he is: Binns willfully ignores the fact that all of his students use his class as an excuse to get a nap in (maybe he simply doesn’t see them sleeping - only one of many reasons why Ominis has decided he could never be a professor), rambling on and on in the most boring way possible. As if he were trying to be as dull as possible (maybe he does it to avoid interacting with the students which…can’t be to blame). In a different life, Ominis could see himself quite liking the subject, but as things stand he despises it.

Especially now.

Ominis fervently wishes that he could fall asleep.

Then, he might avoid hearing her thoughts - they’re consuming him and he can’t ignore them as much as he would like to.

Normally, he loves this class - not the subject, obviously - but the class itself, for the sheer fact that it is the only time where he gets some peace and quiet. Everyone’s minds nice and quiet and shut off for the time being while they sleep. Although he has gotten used to ignoring the thoughts of everyone around him, their various voices mixing and mingling with each other into a dull thrum in the back of his mind, it is nice to have some quiet once in a while.

But right now, with everyone asleep except for the Gryffindor at his side, her thoughts are so loud it’s like she’s screaming at him.

So here he is, wishing he could fall asleep, leave the class, maybe turn off the infernal legilimency that has haunted him his whole life.

(His parents and Marvolo insist it’s a gift handed down from Slytherin himself, just like the Parseltongue Ominis despises. It is not. It is a curse.)

He is stuck listening to her.

It doesn’t help that she seems to have caught on to him - something he had managed to avoid until now. Nobody else, not even Sebastian or Anne, has ever suspected a thing. But, in all fairness, those two are extremely loud and say every single thought that passes through their minds out loud even when they should remain quiet, and nobody else has had the opportunity to spend enough time with Ominis to begin to suspect anything.

Until her.

He had to go and let that blasted girl worm her way into his life, not leaving him alone ever, always looking for excuses to talk and ask his opinion, and being so intelligent that he wanted to invite her to study with him and talk with him and…

Since it happened a few nights ago, he hasn’t stopped cursing himself for that stupid offhand comment he made. They had been studying in silence in the library together, by the history books where nobody else ever ventures (thank you, Professor Binns), and he could have sworn that she asked him if he was finally going to walk her back to her common room (he blames a lack of sleep and wishful thinking for this mishap). His traitorous face had flushed and he had jumped at the chance to escort her - maybe she would let him carry her bag, or… - only to feel his whole body go cold and his stomach drop when her response wasn’t what he’d expected.

A pause: then: a confused voice: ‘Ominis, I didn’t say anything.’

His Gryffindor wasn’t stupid like Gryffindors were normally wont to be. He knew her, and he knew that after his monumental mistake, the gears in her brain were turning and he was terrified that somehow she had figured it out.

(His Gryffindor?)

She had been unusually quiet around him since then, although he bitterly noticed that she was still acting normally with everyone else. Still finding every opportunity to punch Sebastian in the shoulder and laugh with Anne, still whispering with Natsai about Merlin knows what, still…

But she had been avoiding Ominis. He couldn’t stand it.

Well, avoiding him right until this stupid class, when she had to go and sit right next to him (ignoring the fact that she always sits next to him in History of Magic, that everyone already has and adheres to their unofficial seats), and he can’t ignore her.

She’s pretending to take studious notes, but he knows better. The scratching of her quill blending with the droning of Professor Binns’ voice but not drowning out her thoughts. They float above the other noises, her voice sweet and piercing. Ominis wonders vaguely what she’s actually writing, because he’s positive it isn’t notes.

Professor Binns looks so sexy right now with his medieval hat, talking about…whatever it is he’s passionate about. I wonder if he would let me talk to him after class without floating through me like he normally does…

Ominis is determined not to react. She’s obviously trying to bait him. But…what if she is attracted to Professor Binns? Is he an attractive man? At the thought, the fist that’s resting on top of his desk clenches, but he works to make sure his face remains impassive. Apart from a twitch of his lips, he thinks he’s been quite successful.

She: huffing and shifting in her chair, her robes rustling as she crosses her legs. He: keeping his head facing forward, steadfastly ignoring her.

She changes tactics.

Maybe she’s just as insufferable as the other Gryffindors, after all.

I wonder what Ominis would say if he knew I woke up moaning today after a dream about him -

He shifts slightly in his seat, hoping that she’s so busy taking notes (who’s he kidding) that she won’t notice his discomfort as his trousers tighten -

…the girls in my dorm have been bothering me nonstop about who I’ve been mooning over but I don’t want them to…

His hand is in such a tight fist it’s a wonder he’s not breaking any fingers as he tries to remain as still as possible, but his traitorous arousal is making her thoughts harder and harder to ignore. Had he ever been able to ignore her?

…his tongue was deep inside me as I screamed his name…

He feels his face heat up at the thought - where had she learned such vulgar language? - and his whole body stiffens. He’s sure that she can feel the tension and warmth radiating off of him in waves but that…she…his insane little lion keeps shouting at him in the silence of the classroom. She’s now stopped all pretense of taking notes and is sitting stock still.

…his cock deep inside of me as…wait…what else did I hear Garreth say to Leander that night?…um… She shifts uncomfortably, her knee grazing Ominis’s as she moves to squeeze her legs together. It’s all he can do to not groan and remain impassive. Oh god…I…what’s that feeling? This was just supposed to get back at him for probably - maybe - reading my thoughts and I’m officially insane because how would he even be able to do that?…his ears turning red from embarrassment are so adorable and I can’t stand this anymore and…

Ominis tries his hardest not to move his head in her direction. His jaw flexes. Maybe he can drown her out if he starts reciting potions ingredients, or if he focuses on what Professor Binns is saying, but even he knows its futile. He’s hanging on to her every word - thought? - and his head slowly turns in her direction as she keeps going.

…does he know how much I think about him? Oh god, what if he dreams of me the same way I…

He slams the open book in front of him shut, the loud noise causing Sebastian to jerk awake and babble incoherently for a moment before slumping back over his desk, drooling and snoring lightly. Nobody else in the class seems to notice except her of course. Blissfully, she has stopped talking - thinking - and he can finally -

It’s no use. He needs to get out of there. She has invaded his mind and…What if she starts up again with her filthy thoughts that are bleeding into his own and -

Did he hear me? I didn’t actually think…oh god, can he hear me now? What have I done?

Ominis very slowly brings his hand over to where he knows hers is. The quill falls out of her hand and he hears a sharp intake of breath at their contact. His fingers trace her knuckles and then he slowly trails them up her arm. His fingertips are so sensitive that he could swear that he feels every thread that he passes, her skin warm and alive underneath the fabric. Then to her neck, her throat bobs and he feels her erratic heartbeat. Finally, he reaches her face. She remains very, very still as his fingers brush over her features for the first time.

He has never touched someone like this before.

Her skin is like velvet, soft everywhere he touches. Now that he knows what it feels like he’s not sure he can go back to before. His fingers trace the curve of her eyebrows - he finds that her nose is straight before it flares up a tiny bit at the tip - his fingers ghost over her impossibly soft lips. He drags his thumb across her bottom lip as her tongue darts out to wet them. It’s impossibly intimate and the world has melted away and it’s just the two of them in that moment.

He leans forward.

“Ominis, I…” she whispers, stricken.

His hand moves to tuck some of her loose hair away from her face - does she always wear it like this? - and his lips brush against her ear. He inhales deeply, her sweet smell invading his senses. She shivers under his touch and he breathes, “I heard everything.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 10

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Gah. You hate the taste. It doesn’t get any better and it feels worse on your skin. There’s something unnatural about human biology. Should that be so slimy?  

You’re not a prude, not mentally, only experientially. The act itself, yeah, it’s kind of hot, but the finale. That’s too much. Not to mention, it wasn’t exactly mutual. None of this is. 

It’s weird, actually. The more you think of it, sat naked under a desk, in the mess of his excitement, you can’t help but analyse the situation you find yourself in. This man articulated a strategic destruction of your life; he messed with your rent, your bank, your job, and now you’re sitting her in his house, perched on your heels like an orphan begging for more gruel. 

You frown as you rub your chin again. Despite the single tissue he offered, you still felt the residue clinging to your skin. You need a shower. Or maybe some clothes. That would be nice. You scrunch up your nose and sneer. 

“What the hell is that face for?” Floyd—Lloyd snips and you look up to meet his gaze through the glass top of the desk, his keyboard blocking out all but one of his blue eyes. Hey, he has nice eyes for a meanie. You’d never tell him because he’s not a very good listener. 

“Nothing, I just...” you shrug and his eye flicks down to the jiggle of your chest. You cross your arms and tilt your head to the side, “can I go wash off or something?” 

“Why?” He challenges. 

Your lips part and a puff of air shoots out. Is he serious? 

“I... I’m not saying it’s your fault or anything but semen smells and I smell like semen, so going by a very basic formula--” 

“Oh my god, you don’t stop. Why can’t you just say anything straight out? Why’s it this nonsense?” He growls. 

“Fair enough, but I’m still hoping to see a sink or maybe a washcloth--” 

He rolls his eyes and closes them. He sits back and puts his hands to either side of his nose and exhales heavily. He clucks as he drops his arms and considers you as he leans against the leather cushioning. 

“You don’t make the rules. Stay.” 

He rolls back up to the desk and starts typing again. You look at the bottom of the sleek keyboard. He’s definitely an Apple guy, the iMac isn’t even the biggest giveaway. He just has that essence to him. He’s one of those guys who claims to be all about the best of everything but really he’s just buying into capitalism. He’s basic; mainstream. 

What is he even doing? Typing, clicking, scowling at the screen. Is he working? What on earth does he even do? Well, if you account for the mustache, the tacky clothes, and shoes without socks, you might assume he’s some sort of salesman. Used cars if you were to go by looks alone and yet his house would suggest more than that.  

He doesn’t look like a lawyer. He could be a tech bro, again, Apple everything. Still, the way he types doesn’t really seem savvy. He’s got the whole chicken peck down pat, jabbing each key with his index finger. So you’re at a loss. What the hell do rich people do? How do they even get rich? 

“Would you stop staring at me like that?” He stops again, another glare through the glass. 

You swallow and shake your head, shifting on your knees as you keep your arms across your chest. 

“Sir, Mr. Jansen--” 

“Hansen,” he grits dangerously. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hansen, sir, please, it’s cold in here, can I get a sweater or maybe you could turn off the air? This time of day, the rate must be ridiculous.” 

His lashes flutter and his forehead lines. His hand closes to a fist then opens. His chest rises and he squares his jaw. 

“You’re distracting me. I’m trying to work.” 

“So maybe I could go somewhere else. It’s a big house--” 

“My house,” he insists. 

“A very nice house,” you offer, “I mean I’m sitting down here, my knees are killing me, I’m shivering, I can’t sit still. You’re not gonna get anything done. I’m agreeing with you. One hundred percent. I’m annoying. A real nuisance so let the leash go a little bit. Promise, I won’t touch a thing--” 

He squints then his eyes flick up as he thinks. His lips thin and he huffs. He brings his fingertips together, elbows planted on the glass desk, and taps them as he hums. 

“You’re lucky you can make me cum,” he grumbles. 

“Ah, but sir, don’t give me all the credit. You’re a very good cummer. An expert, it seems.” 

His nose crinkles and his mouth falls open, for just a second. His cheek dimples and he shakes it away, “what on earth are you fucking on about?” 

“I’m just saying, sir, I don’t know much about the old sausage link but I’m comparing it to the hub--” 

“The hub?” 

“PornHub, I’m sure you know it.” 

He lets out cluck but says nothing else. 

“Anyway, you got what they would call girth,” you gesture with your hands. “Good job, although, maybe it’s more a genetic type thing. Not really something you did...” 

He stares at you for a moment the pushes his knees wide. He takes a breath and slides slightly forward in his chair. You are keenly aware of the twitch beneath his pants. Please, not again. Are their calories in cum? 

“You watch a lot of porn?” He asks, a genuine hint of interest in his voice. The furthest from spite you’ve heard from him. 

“Eh, not as much as some people, I'm sure. I get curious,” you say. “but within discretion. Never wanna go too far down the rabbit hole.” 

He taps his toe and gives a thoughtful angle of his chin, twining his fingers between each other, “what kinds?” 

“Mm, well, I dunno. Usually, I just click something on the front page that doesn’t look too wild. Like creampie is pretty standard, I guess. Doggystyle is usually all over, but the stepdaughter stuff, ick. Not for me, sir. No way.” 

He makes a clicking noise in his throat and slowly reclines in his chair, “you are way too honest for your own good.” 

“Maybe, I guess. In this situation though, what do I get from lying? Besides, I see the stache,” you shoot him with a fingergun then quickly holster it. “You definitely are trawling around. RedTube? Xvideos?” 

“You said you’re curious,” he ignores your question, “you don’t... do anything while you watch?” 

You feel a subtle tickle in your thighs. The casual air turns thick. You’re starting to get worked up. 

“Eh, well, you know... the fingers find a way,” you look away and giggle nervously. “I go on these women’s forums. They say you should know yourself best before you try with a partner. Obviously, I haven’t found my number two yet but I know my way around my captain's chair. I can get to warp speed.” 

His lips curve slowly as you look back to him and you gulp. You’ve said too much. Again. The very reason you fell head first into this predicament. 

“Sir, why are you looking at me like that?” You squeak. 

He chuckles and brushes his fingertips over his bristly mustache, “well, sweet lips, show me the way.” 

“Huh?” Your eyes round. 

“Show me around your captain's chair, as you so eloquently put it,” he demands and wiggles two fingers at you. 

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 12

I've decided that since I have a fair amount of backlog on the three I've been doing WIP Wednesday for, that I'd post some of them to give me time to work on the rom-com AU more.

I recommend going back and re-reading part 11 at least before reading this one to be on the safe side.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

The Fallen boys need a break and Robin and Chrissy meet up with Nancy.

****

Things were going really well in the studio now that they had Bob Newby as their producer and their studio was closer to home so they could live their normal lives and still be in the studio recording.

It was the happiest the band had been in awhile. Which was why Steve should have seen it coming. The dark cloud on the horizon.

Shane was late.

That wasn’t to say that it was out of the ordinary or whatever, but it was now two hours late and Spence was pissed.

“When I get my hands on his scrawny neck,” he hissed. “I’m going to kill him.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “You’re just upset because it’s means you’ll be late for your date or whatever with Nadia. He’ll be here.”

“That’s not true and you know it, Asmodeus,” Spence bit out. “This is the third time this week and yeah, so what if I have a life outside of this, but that’s not why.”

Just then Shane stumbled in. He looked like absolute shit. His clothes were disheveled, his hair was a mess, and he wore dark sunglasses. Clutched to his chest was a large coffee.

“Fuck...” he mumbled as he shambled over to the sofa. He lowered himself gently onto the thing with a stream of curses. “Sorry I’m late, but my hookup last night turned off my alarm.”

He took a long sip of his coffee and rubbed his temple. He had finished most of the coffee when he realized that no one had said a word since he arrived.

The door opened and Bob and Robin entered the room looking more than a little cross.

Shane flashed them a smile. “Uh oh, it looks like I upset both mom and dad. So I was a little late. It happens.”

“But it shouldn’t be happening,” Spence said with a scowl. “This isn’t the first time. Hell, it’s not even the first time this week.”

Shane frowned, setting his coffee on the floor between his feet. He rubbed his temples as he struggled to think back. “That can’t be right, it’s only Monday, right?”

Everyone shared concerned glances.

“Astraeus,” Steve said slowly, “it’s Thursday.”

Bob crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You were late on Sunday, Monday and today, Astraeus.”

Shane stared up at them in open shock and disbelief. “There’s no way!” He pulled out his phone and looked at the date.

“Shit.”

“What’s been going on, man?” Simon asked, concerned for the first time. He hadn’t realized how often it had been and was giving Spence shit for wanting to be with his girlfriend.

Shane shook his head. “I have money for the first time in my life. I mean proper money. My parents always had enough to make sure we got into the things we wanted; sports, drama, music, you name it, but there wasn’t a lot of money to go around after, you know? I had to pay for my college education myself and I just wanted to live a little. Spread the money around, even if I couldn’t tell them what I did for a living, they don’t really care.”

“I can see that,” Robin said. “I think we all breathing easier, regardless of our backgrounds because the money we’re getting has pretty much set us up for life if it all went to shit tomorrow, which I really wouldn’t recommend, by the way.”

Shane let out a huff of breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I really didn’t mean to go off like that, I’ll cut back to just the weekends. I promise.”

Robin and Bob shared a glance.

“That’s strike one, Astraeus,” Bob said, “I don’t take slackers lightly. You want me to continue to work for you guys, you’ve got to step it up.”

Shane nodded empathically. “Can we have a day off a week though? It doesn’t have to be on the weekend, but this seven days a week is really hard.”

Robin blinked at him a moment. “You guys have been coming every day?”

The band looked around at each and all gave a collective shrug.

She turned to Bob. “Is that your schedule?”

Bob’s jaw dropped and he shook his head. “I only do that if there’s a rush to get the album out, which I understood there wasn’t. I don’t how we got on working every day, but Astraeus is correct they need a day off.”

“What works best for everyone?”

The band worked out a better schedule that worked for everyone with it ending with Bob giving everyone the rest of the week off, giving them strict instructions to talk to him about those sort of things before it got to this point.

Robin clapped her hands once. “Right, now that we’ve got that settled, we’re still meeting up at Abbadon’s for dinner to discuss my meeting with Nancy. My meeting is at three and dinner is at six, so don’t be late.” She glared at Shane and he raised his hands in surrender.

“See you all then!”

****

Robin straightened her wig in her rearview mirror and added more lipstick. She wore special contacts that changed her bright blue eyes to a more common brown color. She was dressed in slim fitting white slacks with a bright pink silk blouse and a black leather aviator’s jacket. She hated wearing these clothes, they just weren’t her. At least she didn’t have to wear high heels to this thing. She would have broken an ankle for sure.

But she would sell her soul to the devil if it meant that Steve got to do what he loved. And it wasn’t as though she didn’t love her job either. But Eddie was right, she was on her last frayed nerve and that wouldn’t do her boys any good.

She slid out of her Maserati MC20 and walked up to the restaurant. The Corroded Coffin’s manager, Chrissy Cunningham was going to be there as a mediator.

Robin hadn’t told Steve this, but Chrissy knew who she was. Not the band, she didn’t know that, but she knew that Celeste Baptiste was Robin Buckley. It was just something Robin felt she needed to know before going in there with Nancy. That she personally had a stake in the game, even if it was just as Steve’s best friend.

Chrissy loved the idea of even their manager having an alter ego and it made Robin feel better about her choice to be someone else.

Robin and Chrissy kissed each other’s cheeks in greeting and Robin sat down.

“She’s not here yet?” she asked, looking at her matching watch.

Chrissy shook her head. “She’s running a little behind. One of her clients blew up the internet last night and she’s been having to play hard ball to keep it from destroying their career.”

Robin leaned in close. “Ooh, do you know who it was?”

“That’s for me to know,” Nancy said from above them, “and for you to never find out.”

Robin looked up at her and was struck on how good she looked. It was almost unfair how good she looked.

She was wearing a grey plaid blazer with the sleeves rolled up over a white button shirt and a black pencil skirt. She wore grey boots and matching sunglasses, glasses she took off with a shake of her dark curls.

Robin gulped. Nancy had been intimidating enough in high school, but now she could stare down a raging bull and come away unscathed.

“Hello, ladies,” Nancy said with a smile. “I’m sorry I was late, but I think I managed a god damn miracle and could eat an entire salad bar.”

Nancy sat down and put her phone in her purse.

“Oh are you vegan?” Chrissy asked as the waiter came up with a pitcher of water. Nancy waved him off and ordered a rosé.

“Just vegetarian,” she said with a shake of her head. “I love cheese too much. Plus, I knew a militant vegan and they scare me.”

Robin laughed. “Couldn’t be me, I went full vegan last year and haven’t looked back.”

Nancy and Chrissy both winced, but for different reasons, Nancy for her comment about militant vegans and Chrissy, well...

“I picked this place because it has the best rib eye steak on the planet,” she said with a grimace. “That’s not going to bother either of you if I order that, right?”

Nancy and Robin shared a glance and then shook their heads.

“My best friend loves steak,” Robin said, “It’s his choice to eat it, I just a have a problem with the ethical consumption of meat and other animal products.”

“Most of my clients eat meat,” Nancy agreed. “I’m not about to piss them off because I don’t like the taste.”

Chrissy relaxed and let out a long sigh. “Great!”

She picked up her menu to hide her embarrassment. A few minutes later, their waiter came back and they placed their orders.

Nancy had ordered a pasta with roasted sun dried tomatoes and mushrooms and Robin ordered a simple salad with a vinaigrette.

As they waited for their food, Nancy got down to business. “So as I understand it, the band The Fallen is looking for an agent to help with the legal and PR aspect of their brand, correct?”

Robin nodded, twisting her napkin nervously. Normally as Celeste, she was cooler under pressure but Nancy scared her. Not because of anything she could do to her specifically, but because what she could do to her boys.

Chrissy reached out and laid her hand over Robin’s fidgeting ones. Robin let out a shuddered breath.

“Normally bands like theirs have teams and teams of people doing all the work,” Robin said, “but with the secrecy surrounding their identities the more people that know the easier it is for a leak.”

Nancy nodded. “It’s certainly not the usual thing. But I’ve got a few clients that are strict about their identities and it wouldn’t be a problem, but as I told Chrissy, I would have know everything about them so that I can do my upmost to protect them.”

“Did you sign the NDA?” Robin asked, straightening her spine. This was something she was good at. Protecting her boys and she would do it with the fierceness of a mother bear and her cubs.

Nancy picked up her briefcase and opened it up. She took out a folder and handed it to Robin. Robin looked it over and then nodded.

She stuck it in her purse and pulled out a hard portfolio and slid it across to Nancy. Chrissy squeezed her hand as Nancy read through the documents. Their food arrived in the interim and she set it aside. She steepled her hands and planted her elbows on the table.

“How much of this do you know?” she asked Chrissy.

“Only what I needed to which is who Celeste is,” she replied, “and that both her and Abbadon have a history with you that could be trouble for a lot of people, not just the band.”

Nancy nodded and took a bite of her food before saying anything else. Chrissy and Robin exchanged glances but started eating as well. More for something to do in the intervening silence than because they were actually interested in food at that moment.

After a few moments Nancy blotted her lips with her napkin and set it next to her plate. “This is not what I was expecting when I heard that you had concerns about my professionalism and in all honesty, this is easier to understand then a manager thinking they don’t need the help of an agent when they really do.”

Chrissy and Robin shared a glance.

“Is that something that’s common?” Chrissy asked. Corroded Coffin had already had Nancy as their agent when she became their manager five years ago. They had outgrown their former manager Murray Bauman and was looking for someone younger to manage them so they hired her.

Nancy nodded. “It is.” She turned to Robin. “You’re his best friend, right? The quirky band chick who was always working with him?”

Robin was impressed with her way of asking the question without revealing anything significant about their identity. She brought her finger up to her contact and moved it aside to show the blue underneath before sliding it back into place.

“I’m assuming I’m the last resort?” Nancy asked after taking another bite of food.

Robin and Chrissy shared another glance.

“Not in the way you mean,” Chrissy explained. “I gave her a list of agents that might be able to have them on as clients and we’ve met with a couple of them but decided even before they got to what’s in the folder that they weren’t suitable for their needs.”

“The double lives aspect, I suspect.”

“Both of them wanted to push them into revealing themselves,” Robin said, nodding. “Which was completely off the table.”

Nancy licked her bottom lip and her eyes narrowed. “Is that off the table indefinitely or will we circle back to that sometime in the future?”

Robin rolled her eyes. “There’s no way to predict if they’re going to change their mind five-six years down the line.”

“I’m going to be frank,” she said, “I do not have a problem repping them. Not even Abbadon. But I understand there will be some awkwardness on both sides at first. I will even apologize in person. Because the fact of the matter is, I did hurt him. I strung him along until something better came along and then didn’t even have the decency to break up with him before moving on. I was young and stupid and even worse, I’m not even with that guy anymore. Like with me and Abbadon, we wanted different things.”

“Apologize first,” Chrissy said with a wicked gleam in her eye, “then we’ll see about hiring you for The Fallen.”

Nancy reached out to shake Robin’s hand. “Deal?”

Robin nodded curtly. “Deal.”

They moved onto the more tedious aspects of what they wanted out of Nancy as they finished their meals.

But as Robin was heading back to her car she had a small satisfied smile on her face. Yes, this really was the best option for the band.

****

Because of canon-Chrissy's unhealthy relationship with food, I wanted her to go hard into eating all things that her mom most likely forbade her from eating growing up. Hence the steak and the wine. Nancy I figured would be at least vegetarian with personality (just the vibes I get from her *shrug*) and Robin would absolutely be vegan. Just not a militant one.

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[streaminn]

There’s something about the fact that personal boundaries exist to separate people from those who’d impede on one’s personal bubble, and yet for Wednesday Addams, because her boundaries are always clear, other’s feel bold enough to constantly cross them. Boring boys continue to ignore her clear intentions to be alone; trying new pathetic pickup lines that range from pedestrian to unintelligible. Fellow students interrupt her silent studies in the library to spark up a mundane conversation that go nowhere. Even some of the teachers try to rope the goth into some inane extra curricular with the promise of fun, even though she’s already participating in the required activities that she actually wants to do (fencing and bee keeping is enough). While Wednesday isn’t exactly yearning for the whole school to fear her (at least not too much) a healthy amount would be nice if it meant she’d have some peace and quiet without another person breaking the silence.

There’s an obvious exception though, personified in her bubbly roommate. Enid Sinclair has mastered the ability to somehow weave her way through Wednesday’s boundaries so effortlessly that it’s like a dance. The wolf so clearly wanted to wrap the raven in her arms since the moment they met, and yet she respected Wednesday’s wishes, only crossing the line after the two of them helped save the school. The goth even hugged back, and though she’ll never admit it, she wished the hug lasted longer. This isn’t even touching upon all the countless times that Wednesday has convieniently forgotten her aversion to touch when it comes her roommate. To be fair, Enid wouldn’t linger for long, and it was usually either Wednesday’s arms or shoulders, but the raven has harmed people for less, so there’s no denying that the wolf was special (though denial is a fickle thing anyways, especially according to a certain vampire).

Unfortunately, Wednesday was currently in a situation that didn’t involve her “only exception” as she found herself at the receiving end of a new student’s attempts at flirtation.

“Look, all I’m saying is that my ability to heal rivals everyone here,” says boring lizard boy whose name Wednesday didn’t even bother to hear. “I can even regrow limbs!”

Wednesday doesn’t even waste her energy rolling her brown eyes at this nobody, instead opting to just ask, “Why don’t you regrow them somewhere else, preferably far away from me.”

“Oh come on Addams, I know you’re into weird shit. You’re telling me you don’t have a single morbid thought about my abilities? ‘Cause let’s just say the healing helps with certain endurance based activities.”

“I hold no thoughts of you, for if I did, I’d risk lowering my IQ. Now leave.”

“Damn, can’t the savior of Nevermore throw this dog a bone? Not even a smile?”

His slimy fingers began to reach for one of the goth’s braids, but he soon found two of his fingers caught between a pair of scissors.

“Do not touch me, less we learn the extent of your abilities.”

The boy threw up his hands with a dopey grin. “Whatever you say Addams.”

Fed up with the social interaction, Wednesday began to make her way back to her shared dorm. Enid should be there, probably already painting Thing’s nails. Regrettably, this brief moment of thinking distracted Wednesday long enough to not notice the sleazy reptile once again reaching towards her. This time, he grabs her wrist, specifically the one holding the scissors.

It’s short lived however, because right as the raven was about to give this boy a sneak peak of Hell itself, she feels something splash against her face, followed by the shrieks of the idiot who dared touch her. Wednesday lifts her arm to see his freshly amputated hand still attached to her wrist. She touches her face and finds that some of his blood has indeed gotten on her. She finally looks to the source of the violence, finding her angry roommate with blood still dripping from her multicolored claws. The sight causes something to stir in Wednesday, not unlike the way she felt after hugging her bloody roommate for the first time.

“Don’t ever touch her,” growls Enid. “Don’t even look at her, or your eyes will be next.”

The lizard boy nods his head as if his life depended on it, before sheepishly asking, “Can I at least have my hand back?”

“Oh for sure!” With a smile on her face, Enid removed the hand from Wednesday’s wrist, and with a casual strength that only a werewolf could muster, threw it across school grounds so far it couldn’t be seen from where they were standing. “Go get it. Come on Wednesday, it’s almost your writing time.”

With a level of irony for the currently handless boy, Enid grabs Wednesday’s hand as she drags her away from the scene. All he can do is bleed and watch them disappear into the school.

As they walk the halls, Enid talks a mile a minute, with her actions now dawning on her. “I really just cut his hand off. Like, SLASH, off! It was like instinct, I wasn’t even thinking. I just saw him touch you, and I know you don’t like to be touched.”

“Enid.”

“Like I know you can fight your own battles, but part of being best friends is that you don’t have to do it alone anymore!”

“Enid.”

“I’m probably going to get into trouble aren’t I? I mean, he heals right? It’ll grow back, everything is fine. Plus, it was kind of self defense, or is it not ‘cause I was coming to your defense?”

“Enid.”

“Sorry, yes Wednesday?”

“While I agree that I could’ve handled it myself, your actions are appreciated, especially due to how vividly violent it was.”

The validation causes Enid to blush. “Aww, thanks Wednesday, anything for you.” The blonde smiles a big toothy grin, to which the goth replies with a small smile only meant for Enid. The two continue to their dorm, with a peculiar sight for anyone that dared to look in their direction: they were still holding hands.

Enid, realizing that her favorite sweater is covered in blood: awh man!! Now it's never going to wash out

Wednesday, already tugging her towards their dorm: I can help with that

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

OLIVIA COOKE IN THE INTERVIEW FOR ELLE MAGAZINE.

TALKING ABOUT ALICENT'S RELATIONSHIP WITH HER CHILDREN IN S2.

She must handle her sons “as the power goes to their head and they see her as irrelevant.”

“She’s terrified of Aemond and what he’s become, and she can’t access Helaena.”

As Alicent slowly becomes invisible, it’s also strangely liberating, “because all of a sudden eyes aren’t on her and she can sort of do whatever she wants.”

ABOUT FILMING THE SEX SCENES IN S2.

When it came to sex scenes, Cooke worked closely with House of the Dragon’s intimacy coordinator, Vanessa Coffey. Given Game of Thrones’ reputation for nudity, she had originally braced herself.

“I thought there’d be way more, and so I’m relieved that when it has been used for me, it’s showing Alicent being pleasured, which is amazing and doesn’t feel gratuitous.”

“It feels like we’re telling a story.”

She recalls one bedroom scene she filmed that was cut: “It was messy as fuck. It wasn’t beautiful, and that was really fun to do.”

It was “carnal” and even “animalistic.”

“I think Ryan [Condal, the showrunner] said we weren’t learning any more about the characters, which I disagree with slightly, but it’s okay. It’s his show,” she adds, with no hard feelings."

"Maybe we’ll see it in the bloopers, she says, laughing."

ABOUT THE CAST OF HOTD.

OLIVIA COOKE:

“They’re like my family, and we adore each other.”

TOM GLYNN-CARNEY:

“We put the wigs on and the costumes on, and all hell breaks loose.”

TEAM GREEN TALKING ABOUT OLIVIA COOKE.

FABIEN FRANKEL:

“She’s a dear friend and a great giggler.”

PHIA SABAN:

Who shared many scenes with Cooke this season as Alicent’s daughter Helaena, remembers their antics while filming an otherwise somber procession scene.

“We just got really hyper, and it became a little bit of a chamber of music actually.”

“Lots of singing.”

EWAN MITCHELL:

“I think Liv’s performance this year is one for the gods.”

TALKING ABOUT RHAENICENT.

“They practiced proper adult relationships on each other” Cooke says of the severed friendship.

“When you break up with a friend, it’s so much more heartbreaking than breaking up with a lover a lot of the time, because they know every single part of you and it’s so much more vulnerable.”

And of course, parts of the fandom ship Rhaenicent, a.k.a. Rhaenyra and Alicent as a couple.

“Don’t they ship everyone together, though?” Cooke asks when I bring up the imagined romance.

A fair point, but wouldn’t things be better if the old pals just made up and ruled the kingdom together?

Cooke humors me. “Absolutely. Matriarchy now, please.”

EMMA D'ARCY TALKING ABOUT HER FRIENDSHIP WITH OLIVIA COOKE.

“It’s funny to talk about a friendship that is so fundamental in your life.”

“The thing I find strange is to realize that I suppose we haven’t known each other that long in broad terms, but she’s a pillar in my life."

"I would have found this a challenging experience if Liv was not on it.”

[0-hoony]

do i wanna know? [ft. j.sc]

@ sungchan : i FUCKING dare you to pull this blanket one. more. time. @ y/n : your wish is my command cutie 😋😝

pairing : significant annoyance!sungchan x f!reader genre : fluffy + crack cw/tw : there's only one bed :O + swearing + uneditted wc : 1K LETS GAUUURR

the newest addition on your list of things you despise about jung sungchan : how he felt no qualms at all when breaking the ONE rule you had established.

do not cross the boundary of pillows you had meticulously arranged on the queen bed that you had the misfortune of sharing with him i.e., stay away from you as much as possible.

another addition on your list was the way his arms were wrapped around your waist in a way that caused your chest to be pressed against his back in a far too intimate embrace for someone who rarely let go of any opportunities to pick (petty) fights with you. 

the fact that a small part of you, the same part which kept trying to make your breathing just a little quieter so as to not wake him up, wanted to simply go back to sleep just so you could stay enveloped in his comfort for a little longer is completely irrelevant. 

when you think back to the events of the previous few nights, you can’t help but feel slightly murderous intentions towards your so-called best friend, yujun. 

it’s all her fault, really, if you think about it. 

why did she have to go and find a boyfriend? especially when said boyfriend, shotaro, just so happened to be best friends with the literal bane of your entire existence.

why did they have to book a romantic getaway and then end up being busy when the date of the trip arrived? and why, you asked the heavens, why must they have given both you AND sungchan keys to the room??

the lack of communication between the couple was definitely going to be the reason for your untimely demise. 

so far, the one sole highlight of your trip had been the utter shock on sungchan’s face when you walked into the lobby of the fancy hotel, late evening. you’d greeted him with a tight smile, in an attempt to act civilly. 

that went downhill rather fast. but to be fair; you did have your reasons...

…they were threefold. 

first, when you mentioned that you wouldn’t feel too comfortable asking the reception for an extra room and asked him to do it for you, he went off on some kind of a rant saying he wasn’t obligated to do anything you told him. 

when you pointed out that with how defensive he was being, it was almost as if he wanted to share a room with you; he only rolled his eyes and pushed his tongue against his cheek in that ever so annoying way of his. 

you could’ve almost sworn he said something about being .. denser than a .. neutron star? okay astronomy nerd

second, over the days, sungchan had for some reason taken to being stuck to your person like glue. he followed you all over as you were exploring the facilities of the hotel and eventually even dropped in on what were supposed to have been quiet meals where you basked in the delight of your own company; all the while spitting out teasing quips and comments to you.

and there were those out of nowhere, not-so-fleeting touches of his too. playful (??) little shoves, moving your hair away from your face (in an obviously condescending way. right?) etc. you chose to not pay much attention to those.

until, that is, the kitchenette incident occurred. 

while trying to pour yourself a glass of water (because how would you be able to properly pay back each and every one of sungchan’s infuriating actions if you weren’t hydrated?), you can only assume you’d somehow been blocking the narrow walkway into the room. 

which had then led him to move you to the side with a hand on your waist, almost as if with practiced ease. 

no you did not take almost a whole day to process this.

but the third reason is the one you can safely assume to have been the most fatal for you.

the way he insisted on not letting you take the couch but also refusing to sleep on it himself. 

c’mon we’re both mature, smart people he’d said we can sleep in the same bed for a couple days, no? unless.. you think you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself, hmm~?

you had thrown a pillow right at him; to wipe off that infuriating smirk off of his face. 

it didn’t work at all. -

the warmth of the sunlight streaming in through the windows coaxes you out of your reverie. all of your senses are suddenly hyper aware of how soft sungchan’s skin feels against yours and how the soft breaths he lets out against your neck have your hair standing on end.

you’re especially aware of how his grip around your waist tries to pull you in closer, as if you weren’t already millimeters away from basically becoming one with him. 

he shuffles around a bit more before you realize he’s waking up.

you immediately allow your eyes to close and attempt to relax all your tense muscles to look as if you were still asleep. maybe you just can’t bear to face how he would react.

“y/n….?”

he still hasn’t moved his arm.

“what are you- SHIT.”

there it is. he pulls away like you’re somehow physically hurting him. 

“oh thank god you’re still asleep. lord knows you wouldn’t have hesitated to actually fight me if you were awake right now.”

…. is he not aware that he’s quite literally 6’1 and with muscles for days?

“i just…” he sighs “i wish i could just hug you properly. preferably after i confessed and you accepted to let me be yours.”

what. 

“i suppose, in my heart, i technically already am. i just wish you could be mine too.

………..

….. y/n ….? i could've sworn your face didn’t look this red earlier? ……………

oh my god.”

he’s gentle with his movements as he moves your body so that if you were to open your eyes you’d be face to face with his. 

“you’re awake aren’t you?”

notes : ill be honest this was originally meant for chanhee.... but sungchan broke into my house (mind) and said i think tf nawt! + [m.list] song rec : do i wanna know - arctic monkeys

𐙚 . regulars : @x0llaz @nicholasluvbot @totheseok @mellowdyverse @fae-renjun ⋆

[owardsgirl]

Lucky

Warnings : mentions of cheating, Megan moroney face claim, some slander of another driver

Pairing : Oscar piastri x singer! Reader

“I can’t fucking believe you Pierre!”

“Yn look I really didn’t mean too”

“You didn’t mean too cheat yeah okay” I yell tears falling down my face “you know what get you’re stuff and get the fuck out I can’t believe I ever trusted you on the road”

“Yn look we can figure this out” Pierre says crying at something he created.

“Nope get out”

And he does and the minute he leaves I start bawling

I can’t be alone right now

I pick up my phone to call Oscar

“Hey yn what’s up it’s 12am?”

“Can you come over please I need you” I say through sniffs

“Yeah I’ll be there in like 10 minutes”

——————

I lay there on the couch crying into Oscar’s arms

“Yn it’ll be okay he wasn’t worth your time anyways he was a dick and a pretty girl like you doesn’t deserve this”Oscar says rubbing circles on my back

“And you know what this gives you something to write an album about” Oscar says trying to cheer me up

“You know what you’re right” I say getting up

I come back to the living room with paper and a my guitar

—————

It’s about 3 hours later and we have 2 songs done im making a whole album about this plus a love song for Oscar that he won’t know is about him but I’ll know it’s about him.

—————

It was about a week after the whole Pierre situation and I’m pretty much over it

Me and Oscar were on our way to the studio to record my last songs that’s when I got a notification.

Pierre’s new girlfriend liked a post of my

I clicked to see which one it was and it was a photo from 2016 which sparked a new song.

————

“Oscar what song do I name the album from?”

“Umm? Lucky!” He says with a big smile “that one is my favorite”

“Alright perfect!!”

————

Liked by Taylor nation and 23,560 others

Ynln : new album July 4th🤍🍀

Oscarpiastri : I picked the album name!!!

Ynln : yes and you did a great job 🫶🏻

Username: Oscar and yn flirting in the comments!?

Taylornation : collab of the century!🤍

Username : Pierre is over for

Logansargeant : oh yeah!🍀

LewisHamilton : why am I not on the album?? Jk 🤣 i know this is gonna be so good

Ynln : you type like a dad

————

I was singing some cd inserts for my new album and I got a call from Oscar

“Yn I have to tell you something”

“Okay?” I say worried

“I love you like I have feelings for you and I was curious do you wanna go on a date”

I was shocked.

“Oscar i’d love too how about next week since I’m busy with album stuff this week.”

“That’s perfect!!”

————

My album debuted and hit 1 on top 100 billboards within one day and so did every song.

“Yn I’m so happy for you!” Oscar said “I can’t believe this!”

“I’m so happy too I’d never thought this would happen”

———

Me and Oscar went on three dates and on the third one he asked me to be his girlfriend and I obviously said yes!

I was now on tour for my album and tonight was the first show that Oscar could go to

“I’m so excited to see you perform” Oscar said through the phone

We were on FaceTime while I was getting hair and make up done

“I’m excited that your here” I say with a big smile

After my show I joined Oscar back stage

“You did so good” he said as I sat down on his lap

“You wanna know a little secret” I say giggling

“Well of course I do”

“Tennessee Orange is about you I was gonna call it McLaren Orange but that doesn’t roll of the tongue very well”

“Papaya” Oscar says laughing

“Shut up” I say kissing his cheek

Liked by ynln and 23,350 other people

Oscarpiastri : waiting to get an album written about me🤍

Ynln : maybe you’ll get on🤔

Oscarpiastri : you know who gets one and I don’t not fair !! (Love you)

Username : why is she homie hopping.

Username : theyre so cute hello??

Landonorris : Instagram official??

Logansargeant : tell yn to give me free tickets

Ynln : I’ll think about it

Username : girl pick a driver.

Username : who’s next Lando??