#the fact that he was even giving them the time of day was miraculous

[getting-messi]

Messi didn’t snub Barca or reject them

He’s always been so clear. He could’ve left Barca at any point of his career for money, he never did. He was willing to take a 50% pay cut for Barca, they barely gave him the decency of a head’s up but spent an entire season promising that they’d keep him and then switched up within 48 hours. He could’ve accepted the Miami offer or the Saudi offer MUCH earlier, his dad has been reportedly speaking with Laporta for over a month now. 

How is that Barca are still struggling with management over two years after letting Messi go? Wasn’t him leaving supposed to solve things? Pique even said it himself recently, he left his contract early to give Barca breathing room financially yet they are still struggling. Jordi and Busi just left and yet they are still struggling. They only RECENTLY registered Gavi as a player with La Liga and he’s literally a teenager. Imagine how much more difficult it would’ve been for Messi, if they did sign him. They couldn’t even guarantee him that much. 

Laporta is two years into his term as President and he still hasn’t formed a solid financial agenda and while they keep buddying up with Madrid in this weird anti-Tebas campaign, Madrid are spending money loosely and freely. 

Messi is completely right in putting him and his family first and making his decision instead of wasting an entire summer on a board that has proven to still be mismanaged. 

[werecreature-addicted]

Have you ever written about an amnesiac werewolf? Like the reader finds a poor lost soul in the forest and takes them in, unknowingly dooming herself to becoming a breeding pet when the moon strikes and his instincts take over? He doesn't know what's come over him. He really doesn't. :'(

TW: car accidents. dubcon. do i know anything about hospitals? no. shhh. enjoy the werewolf porn.

You've grown quite attached to John Doe. He came in three days ago, he'd been "found" naked wandering a forest road at night and gotten cleaned out by a driver in a pickup truck. The driver said he thought he hit a dog or a deer that had wandered onto the road and was horrified to see a man there instead lying bloody on the asphalt.

Despite how bad John Doe looked when he was wheeled into your clinic, he'd been recovering quite nicely. He was even conscious now although he didn't seem to remember anything from before the accident. That coupled with the fact that he was found naked in the woods, it was proving difficult to contact any friends or family who might be able to give a concrete identity.

You weren't too worried though. It was a small community, and you were sure someone who knew him would turn up eventually. As for you, this was a slow time of year for a humble trauma center doctor, you were able to spend lots of time with your favorite amnesiac. It was a little miraculous really how well he was recovering everything but his memory. If you didn't know any better you'd say it was supernatural.

You found yourself spending more and more time with your John Doe, he was sweet and funny, Not to mention he was very attractive, even bloody and bruised. Although the budding warmth you felt for him was tainted slightly both by the fact that he was your patient and the nagging worry in the back of your head that this wasn't the real him. This could all be a false personality that he would lose once he got his memories back.

You'd already started toying with a daydream where once recovered John Doe would still come by to visit you. You shake your head and try to dispel those fantasies from your mind. You mentally chided yourself, you weren't a teenager with a crush you should be handling yourself more professionally than this. Still, your heart raced when he smiled at you.

In the end, it wasn't a friend or family member who revealed who John Doe really was, but it was the summer rain. You were just about to leave for the night when you started getting phone calls. A bad storm was coming in and soon it wouldn't be safe to drive on the largely dirt roads in this town, no one would be coming up to fill in the night shift. You could make it home safe if you left now. But that would mean abandoning your patient and you couldn't do that. So instead you just sighed and hunkered down preparing to wait out the storm inside the hospital.

John Doe was more than happy to have your company- he liked you better than any of the overnight team anyway, and over the past day he'd begun to feel strange. Not in pain just energized in a usual way. there was a tingling sensation just below his skin, he felt hungry but not for food. He couldn't really put a name to the strange pressure in his body, he only knew that it was growing and it made him want to keep you close.

You were in the break room when it happened. You were trying to figure something out for dinner which was hard with only vending machine options available when lightning strikes and the lights die. you hesitate, waiting for backup generators but only the red EXIT lights stay on, casting an eerie red glow to the room. You were just starting to pull open cabinets looking for a flashlight when you heard a loud crash and what sounded like an animal growl. Your heart stops and before you can think you're running toward the sound relying on muscle memory to navigate the darkened halls.

You freeze seeing the hulking form of a wolf over the tipped-over bed of John Doe. How the hell did a wolf get in here? And alone. Even panicked you know something isn't right. Wolves don't come this close to humans, they don't attack humans and they never ever do it alone. Then the wolf looks at you and stands on its hind legs and you realize it's not a wolf but a monster.

Your hands tremble, you should run- call the sheriff- search the lost and found for a gun and shoot the damn thing. But you can't bring yourself to run. The creature in front of you is awe-inspiring despite your fear, you're curious. Then the monster moves and the interest vanishes. Again your body moves before your brain can think you turn and run. You don't look behind as you run but you can hear the beast howl and the solid thud thud thud as it chases after you.

It's a small emergency room, you know there's nowhere to hide unless the werewolf can read and respect "staff only" signs. You feel a large clawed hand wrap around your waist your legs are still kicking trying to run as you're lifted in the air by the monster.

"You took such good care of me...now let me take care of you, sweet mate," the werewolf growls in your ear, turning you to face him, forcing you to look at his hulking monstrous form. You struggle futilely in his grasp he's strong and you can see his muscles bulge under his dark black fur. Lightning strikes again illuminating his sharp white teeth and his bright hungry eyes.

It takes you a moment to catch up to the fact that 1. The werewolf had spoken and 2. That he had promised to "take care of you". Before you can catch your breath let alone ask what that meant he's shoving you down onto the cold linoleum floor, shredding your pants with one clawed hand and the other he presses down hard on your back in between your shoulder blades keeping you pinned to the floor. You can feel his warm breath on your exposed skin as he huffs your scent. you can't see him but you know he's drooling. The attention makes you tremble, and then he pushes his thick rough tongue against your body and you moan. His tongue is thick and wet against your trembling cunt. He can't keep his hands to himself, his clawed hand wraps around your breast squeezing as he pulls you back against his hungry lapping mouth.

You can't keep your moans to yourself. The little cries of pleasure slip from your mouth only making the beast more aggressive as he eats you out. Eventually, you give up trying to even hold back the sounds or pretend that you aren't enjoying the ravishment.

It doesn't take much longer for you to cum, he doesn't pull away when you reach your peak. He pushes his tongue deep inside of you savoring the flavor of your cum and the fact that he had successfully pulled an orgasm from you just like he'd promised. His tail wags as he cleans you up, then you start getting wet again and he's not cleaning you up as much as he is eating you out again. His cock hangs heavy between his legs too big and thick for his erection to lift so it just throbs with need and drips thick beads of precum onto the clean floor.

He can't quite decide what he needs more, to jerk himself off or to keep both his hands on you. Eventually, his own ache can't be ignored and he starts to jerk himself off. it doesn't take long for him to cum the sweet flood of your cum just drives him insane. his knot swells pitifully as his semen splatters against your legs and ass dripping down to your pussy. two of his clawed fingers scoop up some of his spilled seed and push it inside of you.

"Next time I cum tonight it's going to be inside of you." It sounds like a threat, you can't wait.

[reiderwriter]

Puppet On A String

Chapter One of I Can't Help Myself

Synopsis: Expecting your big promotion any day, you're none too happy to hear about the departments miraculous new hire. You're even less happy when he moves into your office and starts touching things.

Warnings: Shitty office politics, brief allusions to Spencer's time in prison, swearing, reader is understandably bitter.

Masterlist || 5k Celebration Challenge

The day your professional aspirations came to a crashing halt was also the day that you met Doctor Spencer Reid. To say that your view of him was somewhat soured by the unpleasant circumstances of your morning meeting was an understatement and a half.

Sitting in your bosses stuffy work office, you felt your heart stop as the situation was explained.

“You understand, right, Y/N? We really value your work here, so we're really relying on you to help him settle in.” He grinned at you from behind his desk, but all friendliness in the gesture was dampened by the fact that he hadn't even bothered to look up from the papers he was looking through, glasses hanging low on his nose.

“I'm trying to understand, I am. But last week, we discussed me moving onto the tenure track. Are you saying that's out of the picture for me now?”

The smile turned into a grimace as he looked up at you, finally. He removed his glasses and folded them in front of him as you squirmed in your seat. You needed to advocate for yourself, but it wasn't easy when it felt like you were in the principals office being reprimanded.

“Doctor Spencer Reid will be joining us on loan from the FBI. Someone at the Bureau called in a favour with one of the college executives. The decision is above my pay grade - thus it is above yours.”

Your cheeks felt hot as he reprimanded you, and you bit your tongue as best you could.

“He will be with us for the semester, and then we can discuss your promotion again next semester. I will ask again, you understand the situation?”

You nodded, understanding the unspoken - the department wide email introducing your new member of staff and the generous donation from the FBI that came with him. You brought nothing to the department other than a stellar academic record and hard work.

“I'm glad we could both come to an understanding,” he said, aptly dismissing you as you stood to take your leave.

“Ah, one last thing, Y/N,” he said, stopping you in your tracks as you readied yourself to run to the nearest bathroom stall and cry until your first class - roughly 7 and a half minutes.

“Doctor Reid will be sharing your temporary office space. We're strapped for space, and there weren't any other facilities available at the last minute. Since your students always remark on how approachable and welcoming you are, you're the best person to show him around, too.”

The gloom in your heart hardened to anger as the man dismissed you, returning his glasses to his head and not bothering to make eye contact as he added more work to your already heavy load.

“Of course. Thank you.”

You closed the door behind you, willing yourself to not slam it, and stalked down the corridor to your own - now communal - office.

Half of your brain was screaming at you to quit, but with rent in a college town to pay, and the academic year already in session, there was no way you were finding something this lucrative again.

You'd worked your ass off for the last five months. You just had to survive three more with Doctor Spencer Reid.

You had to keep your emotions in control until at least your office, you thought, even as the inescapable tears threatened to fall down your face. You hate that you cried when you were angry, that your emotions couldn't even sort themselves out enough to give appropriate physical responses, but at least you could angry-cry in peace before your new coworker showed up.

You ripped open the door and stomped to your desk, slamming the door shut behind you as you fell down with your head in your hands and let out a frustrated groan.

“Um… hello, can I help you?”

The voice caught you so off guard, you almost jumped from your seat in shock, backing up to the single window in the office.

“Fuck, you scared the hell out of me. What- who are you?” You asked the man you now saw sitting at the sofa opposite your desk, next the door. So close in fact, that you didn't see him walking in.

He was sat down, but you could tell he was tall, slightly older than you, but with big brown eyes that betrayed some experience. He sat comfortably at first, legs crossed, book in hand, but as you spoke, he sat straighter, stiffer, his relaxed expression becoming somewhat colder.

“I'm Doctor Spencer Reid. I was told this is my office from today onwards? If I'm incorrect, I can leave you to your…”

Of course, the very attractive, soft-spoken man in front of you just happened to be the derailment of your career. Temporary, you reminded yourself. Temporary derailment.

“No. Doctor Reid, of course. Hello. I'm Y/N. We'll be sharing the office for the semester, I just didn't know you'd be here today.”

He frowned slightly, like sharing the space was as uncomfortable with him as it was with you.

“If you can excuse me, I have a class to teach in…” You looked to the shelves where your small clock had fallen over once again - the office was cramped and the shelves unstable enough that closing the door meant knocking at least three things over.

“Three minutes, shit. I have to leave, please keep to yourself, I have a lot of important documents in here.”

The words were colder than you would've liked, but you couldn't find the strength to care much about his opinion of you.

You grabbed your laptop and left the room swiftly, abandoning Spencer Reid to your shared office.

Your first meeting may have been sour due to circumstance, but your second was unpleasant on the strength of Spencer Reid's grating personality alone.

In your five months at the college, you'd worked up a system for classwork.

Gather books. Go to class. Pick up coffee. Teach. Leave class. Pick up a second coffee. Go to your office. Host office hours. Work on a research paper. Rinse and repeat for any other classes you had that day.

With such a busy and caffeine fuelled schedule, you kept your office as neat as you could with your rickety shelves.

So, returning to meet Spencer Reid a second time, you almost threw up at the sight that befell you in the office.

“Hey, welcome back.”

The man sat on the one inch of your floor that wasn't taken up by furniture with all of the books in the office stacked up around him, the shelves bare and tipping precariously to one side.

“What the hell did you do to my office?” You blanched, looking around, unable to see the set of books you had organized for your next class.

“The shelves are broken, I put in a request to have them replaced, and I've been organizing the books by topic so-”

“The books were already organized. By class, and week they're to be taught. Fuck, I have a seminar in 30 minutes, I need those books.”

To his credit, Spencer Reid looked panicked as he sat sifting through all the books, even as your anger rolled off of you in waves.

“I can fix this. What shelf was it on?”

“Don't bother, just ruin my day some more. Hey, how about next time, you just throw everything in the trash?”

“I was trying to help, we're going to be sharing the office, and there isn't exactly space for two desks with your current filing system.”

“So you decided to rearrange without telling me? Asking me? I've been here five months, but you strolled in five hours ago and decided to change everything to suit you.”

“That's not - look, I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, well, you can start your apology by footing the bill for whatever improvements you've made. We're not tenured professors. Anything we add to the room or request comes out of our paycheck, and I'm not starving myself for floor to ceiling bookshelves.”

Whatever retort he was about to make was lost as you grabbed your bag from the floor and stormed out, leaving him behind in your dilapidated office.

When you returned to your office later that day, he was nowhere to be found. His new furniture, however, was crowding the room. A clone of your own desk was pushed up against the side of it, the pair forming an L shape. Great. Couldn't have gotten any closer if you tried.

Your couch was still in place by the door, but the old bookshelves were gone. They were replaced by a sturdier looking wooden set that now shelved all the books you'd inherited in the office or were using for class. And some new titles.

He hadn't put them back in the order you needed them in, though you doubted he ever would, but instead had them grouped by topic and within groupings in alphabetical order.

“How very precise,” you said, running your fingers along the book spines as you made your way to your desk.

“Whoops,” you said, pulling out a book you knew wasn't yours and letting it fall to the floor.

Was it petty? Sure. Was it therapeutic?Abso-fucking-lutely.

“Nice. Mature,” a voice said behind you, and for the second time in 12 hours, you jumped at the sound of Spencer Reid's voice.

“Jesus Christ, you need to stop doing that.”

“Doing what, walking into my own office?” He said, leaning against the new bookshelves.

“Our office. Shared. For three months.”

“Oh so you do remember we have to coexist?” He asked, grinning down at you. When did he get so close that he had to look down at you?

“Trust me, your presence is…felt,” you said, gesturing around the cramped space.

“What classes are you teaching?” You sighed, pushing past him to the open door and sitting down at the sofa.

“Profiling and the Criminal Psyche and I'm guest lecturing in Criminology 101. I have a few special lectures on geographical profiles in the next month.”

“And office hours?”

“What?”

“Your office hours, you're going to need to post them soon. Mine are Mondays and Thursdays at 11am, you'll need to be out of the office then so I can consult with the students about any absences or grades. If you haven't decided on your hours yet, my schedule is taped in the first draw of my desk.”

You grabbed your jacket from the hook on the door and pulled it over you like a blanket, laying yourself down on the sofa.

“Why would I need your-”

“Do us both a favour and schedule your hours during my contracted teaching time. It'll be easier.”

“Then why don't you schedule yourself during mine?”

You scoffed as you pulled a couch cushion up to rest your head on, closing your eyes as you drowned him out.

“Gee, you're some kind of genius. Can't you figure that one out yourself?”

You heard his sight of frustration but plugged in your headphones anyway, enjoying your 20-minute power nap as you stubbornly refused to face the day's stress.

A week later, you were deep into a College Cold War.

Spencer had attempted what you'd thought was a truce on his second day, arranging the pile of books you needed for that week's seminars on his desk happily.

Until you went to grab the top of the stack, and his hand held yours down on top of it.

“Sorry, that's for my class,” he said, glancing up at you. He smiled as he noticed the irritation in your eyes as you ground your teeth together.

“I'm teaching a class today based on this text. It was an assigned reading-”

“What a coincidence. It's an assigned reading in my class as well. For all 46 students. You better run over to the library, Y/N.”

You dragged your hand out from under his, brushing off the heat that ran up your arm from his hand as disgust rather than attraction.

His existence was irritating, but his face and body were more distracting than anything.

Storming off, you knew you had to one up him somehow, but you wanted to put some thought into it before doing something impulsive. Your first thought had been slashing his tires, so some perspective was definitely needed.

A week passed, and you found yourself having to endure the man's company on a Friday night for a departmental welcome meal. You'd assumed a week ago when it was scheduled into your outlook calendar that it would be to celebrate your promotion, and now the egg was most definitely on your face.

You'd debated not even turning up, but a warning email had let you know that attendance was compulsory, and the dress code was semi-formal.

So, you begrudgingly forced yourself into the little black dress you'd purchased a lifetime ago for your first graduation and got yourself a taxi over to whatever ridiculously expensive restaurant you have to fast at this time.

“Y/N, you’re here. We weren't sure you'd show up, after… you know!” One of the older professors said as you walked in, pressing an air kiss to either cheek as she handed you a champagne flute.

“Well, attendance was compulsory, so here I am!” You wanted to wipe the pompous smile off the woman's face so badly, but unfortunately, she was a member of the hiring committee. Three more months of sucking up to her was in your future, courtesy of a shitty move by the FBI.

“You say that, but our guest of honor isn't even here yet. Typical, right?”

You downed the drink she gave you and excused yourself to take your seat at the dinner table, needing a place to rest your glass to save yourself from cracking it in your furious grip.

It took another hour for Spencer Reid to show his face, and to your glee, he looked genuinely uncomfortable at the prospect of the night ahead.

“Sorry, I was unpacking some stuff at my apartment.”

“Oh, did you move recently?” A curious voice trailed up the table to ask him as he awkwardly side stepped to his seat. Right beside you, obviously.

“No, just… I had some stuff packed up.”

He held his tongue, not revealing more as the table fell in an awkward silence.

You dragged another glass to your lips and sat back in your chair, doing your best to stay unaddressed as the appetizers finally came out.

“Does the department have dinners often?” Spencer whispered, his hot breath fanning against your neck as he leaned closer to you.

The hot feeling washed over you again as you turned towards him, immediately pulling back and putting some distance between the two of you.

“No. Usually, it is only when welcoming guest lecturers or when someone gains tenure.”

“So who got tenure?”

You scoffed. “Funny. Thanks, Spencer.”

“What?”

You looked back at him again, and his brow furrowed in confusion.

“This meal is to introduce you. Everyone else here has tenure.”

“You don't.”

“Yes, well, there wasn't exactly room in the budget for the hotshot FBI profiler and a steady income for another Professor.” You slammed your glass down again and picked up your bag and things, hoping the table hadn't heard your conversation.

“Please excuse me.” You said smiling at the rest of the table. Some of the women sent you sympathetic glances, but the department dinosaurs simply continued their conversations. You'd think a department of psychologists would be able to figure out they were all absolute narcissists.

You carefully exited the group and took yourself outside for some much needed air.

“Y/N.” He shouted from behind you again, and you had to be honest, you were sick of him following and sneaking up on you.

“God, what now, Spencer? Go back inside and get celebrated or whatever. They probably can't start the self-congratulatory circle jerk without you anyway.”

“I came to apologize. Again. But you don't seem to be able to handle the words ‘I'm sorry,’ at all, do you?”

He looked exasperated, but however he was feeling, you felt worse.

“Look, Spencer. I probably have nothing against you personally. But I've just been conned into another three months of probationary minimum wage because your boss at the Bureau decided he wanted rid of you for a month or two. Some of us didn't get child genius scholarships for multiple PhDs and aren't receiving two paychecks right now.”

“If money is an issue, Y/N, you know I could-”

“No. No, stop butting into my personal problems. We can be civil, but we're not… we're not friends, Spencer.”

You stepped back and let out another sigh as you forced the words to stand between you.

“Okay. I'll stay out of your way.”

“Great. Looking forward to it.”

“Sure. Me too.”

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

You know what would make the Lucky Charm more balanced? Make it so that there are times where other characters figure it out, not just Ladybug. That way, it doesn't make Ladybug hypercompent and makes it possible for other people to save the day.

I don't mind Ladybug being the one best suited to Lucky Charm. I don't think it makes her hyper competent because you don't need a Lucky Charm to save the day. It's just the way that she saves the day. The other characters should have their own unique talents that let them win fights. Generally speaking, that's how strong teams work.

For a random example, let's talk about the teenage mutant ninja turtles simply because I think most people know something about that franchise. The character Donatello (aka Donnie) is the team's tech guy. He makes all kinds of inventions that help them save the day. The show would not be improved if all four of the turtles were able to take on this inventor role. I'd argue that it would actually be lessened because the characters would become interchangeable. This is something that the franchise seems to agree with as each version of the show gives each turtle unique skills and personality traits that makes each of them indispensable in their own way, which is what I think Miraculous should have done with the temp heroes.

That being said, I do think that there's a way to make your idea work. I'd just go a slightly different, more lore balancing route since Lucky Charm is technically bad lore and you all know how I feel about bad lore. So let's talk about giving it a minor tweak and how I think that would actually improve things.

Tikki is supposed to be Creation, not Luck, so the Lucky Charm shouldn't have anything to do with Luck. It should just be pure Creation where the holder comes up with a thing they want and that thing then pops up. It could also have a give and take element where the holder gets what they asked for if they want something specific, but they could also just call the power as a hail Mary and Tikki would come up with something on the fly, leading to the occasional puzzle.

This leads me to my proposed changed.

I personally think it would be hilarious and honestly more fun for Marinette's character if she could summon anything she wanted, but the Lucky Charms stay exactly the same because that's just how her mind works. Even when Tikki is helping, it's still all wacky items because Tikki knows how Marinette is and just goes with it.

For example, in Copy Cat, Ladybug turns a spoon into a hook for a cobbled together fishing pole. Wouldn't it be even funnier if Marinette summoned a spoon on purpose because she was thinking of the makeshift thing she cobbled together in order to fish up something she dropped from her balcony? Then, post fight, Chat Noir praises her like always, only to then ask, "So why a spoon and not a fishing hook?" And Ladybug just stares at him because oh, right, those are things they make. She could have done that. Ooops.

And in Malediktator where she summons a sniper rifle to get a laser pointer? Well, she was thinking about this silly comic about a cat assassin! She totally spaced on the fact that you could just get a laser pointer by itself.

Eventually, her team learns to just go with it and not ask questions. Meanwhile, the general public thinks that the Lucky Charm is some random item that Ladybug has to figure out and no one bothers to correct this misunderstanding. You can even have a running gag of new team members learning the truth and going through the acceptance process of, "Hey, you try thinking up how to set a trap while a 5 meter tall lollipop is trying to crush you! Your mind goes to what it knows, not to the ideal solution, okay???"

If we go with this setup, then other people can wield the Ladybug and use Lucky Charm effectively, they'll just use it in a very different way from the way Marinette uses it. There will also be people who are just not suited to the Ladybug since that was initially how the powers were supposed to work and it made perfect sense. Kwamis should have ideal holders along with okay backups and terrible backups. I personally think Alya would be an okay backup since she's creative, but not creative in the same way Marinette is, leading her to be a lesser Ladybug. Adrien, on the other hand, should generally suck at the Ladybug as he simply doesn't have that style of creative thinking. Which is fine. Better than fine, even! You don't want your characters to be interchangeable! They should all have strengths and weaknesses!

This is one of the show's big flaws. Since everything is on Marinette's shoulders, the other characters rarely get a chance to shine and so they feel interchangeable. For example, if gift always shows the target what THEY want, then why does Rose need to be the one to wield it? Juleka could wield it just as easily. And if Ladybug is generally the one telling Marc and Nathaniel what to summon with their powers, then their creativity is not needed. Anyone could wield the rooster and the goat! The show has completely failed to understand what makes teams memorable and so we have a bloated, boring team whose presence I'm dreading because they had five seasons to set these guys up and yet here we are.

[yok00k]

Igual Que Un Ángel

pairing: hellokittylover!/bimbo!oc x boxer!jk

genre: MATURE, fluff, lowkey angst,

“heaven must have sent you, love”

synopsis: after spending the entire day shopping with your boyfriend, you’re craving mochi donuts and bubble milk tea before going to bed and jungkook, even in his tired state, will do everything to make you happy.

word count: 5.4k

warnings: so much fluff, NO plot, jealous/possessive kook, oc can’t tell when someone flirts with her, tiny silent treatment, oc is kinda dumb, lots of kisses, shower sex, oral [m], oc’s head game is STRONG, head pusher jk, hair pulling, they went shopping for underwear, cussing, aftercare, oc is obsessed with pink/hello kitty, oc is so desperate for his cock and she must get what she wants⛄️(she was virgin before this took place), oc had a vid of her playing, mention of toys, JK is not trying to b obvious but he’s IN LOVE, brief cockwarming at the end, <not proofread>

author’s note: i def did not write this in between my classes😮‍💨 i just discovered that im mentally unhinged as im editing this in class. I have my priorities straights tho so here you go🥢

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

you suppose today was really wonderful.

you two spend almost the whole day at the outlet mall, mostly to shop clothes for yourself. you needed new pairs of undies and Jungkook being the glorious boyfriend he is, helped you shop. not only he paid for all your purchase, he also gives his opinions on certain cloth materials of what the underwear was made of. he wants to make himself useful by helping you out pick out make sure that they’re comfortable to your preference, he goes with you in the fitting room to try them on in front of him.

As you try on clothes for hours and hours in multiple shops, your boyfriend miraculously always finds a chair in the corner of each fitting room that he can rest on. a few hours later, you two arrive back at your place. jungkook initiated to carry all the paper bags you had as the two of you headed from the garage to inside your house.

soon, he began cooking the night’s dinner, which you really enjoy watching because he keeps entertaining you with his skillful talent and his humorous jokes. a quality time like this just makes you fall in love with him even more. you wish and pray that you can spend the rest of this delightful lifetime with him.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

the hands of the clock signifies 11:11, which is usually the time you drift off to sleep. except tonight isn’t a typical night, owing to the fact that your beloved lover is sleeping over at your cozy flat.

although it’s pretty late, you two are cuddled on your not-so-spacious couch, watching a kdrama that was recently released and you still have the clothes you put on this afternoon: a cute pink long sleeve crop top and a pink/black mini skirt. you also can’t forget to add a pair of thick fleece tights since it’s freezing cold outside.

you felt a sudden cravings for something in the midst of the show. you desire for something sweet. and chewy.

“koo..” you murmur, distracting your man from the show on the big screen. he redirects his focus to you as he caresses your hair with his soft, yet rough palms.

“i’m craving donuts”

“want me to go to the convenience store and grab some for you?” he suggests

“no I don’t want that, I want mochi donuts” you cutely demand

“but baby it’s too late” he said, lifting his wrist to look at his gold Rolex watch. “aren’t they close at this time?”

these days, your social feeds are just full of ads, particularly bakery places nearby your place that serve mouth-watering breads, donuts, ice creams, bubble milk tea, and the list goes on. promptly, the phone that’s sitting next to jungkook was taken by you.

“look, there’s one that’s still open till midnight” you replied, showing him the navigation to the bakery shop that’s on your screen. his tired eyes glanced at your phone, then back at you.

“please koo?” you pleaded, climbing on top of him and giving him thousands of kisses all over his face until he’s got enough is the most effective technique to persuade him. how can jungkook say no when you display a behavior like this to get whatever you want? the forever answer is he just can’t.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

You two arrive at the place twenty minutes before they close. Since it’s late at night, you can see through the big windows that there’s not many customers inside the donut shop.

“oh my, we’re finally here” you joyfully babble to yourself out loud which made your driving boyfriend chuckle. while jungkook slows down the car to eyeball a good parking spot, you reach for your pink purse taking out the hello kitty lip oil to apply them on your chapped lips.

Jungkook carefully parked the car on the side of the road. He looked at our surroundings such as the front, back, and the side of his vehicle, making sure everything seems clear before he takes off his seat belt and gets off of the automobile. As usual, Jungkook walks to the other side, gesturing that he will open the car door for me. This man doesn’t ask a lot regarding how things should be in our relationship but the number one rule he established is that you could never open any door when you’re with him.

He quickly unlocked my door with one hand and offered his other hand to assist my body getting out of the car. As you got out, you felt the strong wind blowing your mini skirts, making them move up. but jungkook immediately takes off his zip up fleece oversized jacket to tie it tight around your waist.he ensures that the skirt won’t go up by walking behind you whilst holding your cold hand towards the bakery.

a scent of sweet caramelized brown sugar that you’ve been craving welcomes you as soon as you step into the threshold of the place. Looking around the store, you notice multiple neon pink led lights of donuts are decorated in the walls. the long honey maple stained table against the windows was paired with white barstool chairs. You also did not fail to miss that their white snowed christmas tree is still up, filled with rosy ornaments and pinkish lights around it.

‘this is definitely my new favorite place’ you noted to yourself as you feel cozy inside.

Your boyfriend wasted no time to lead you to the counter, only for you to see the variety of flavor of their delicious mochi donuts displayed on the front top. you can’t help but to drool on the sight, you’re starting to feel satisfaction by just looking at them.

“hello, what can I get for you today?” the tall male server who’s probably around your age friendly greeted. a little too friendly, in jungkook’s opinion but he chose to try to shrug it off. before answering him, I turned to jungkook “what are you getting koo?” asking to know what he wants.

“don’t know. you can order whatever you want for me” he responds as his doe eyes look up to scan the menu on the screen that’s mounted in their polished ceramic walls. Jungkook is on a diet these days therefore he tries his best to restrain eating sweets but he knows that cheat days won’t hurt if it only happens once or twice a month.

turning to face the server once again, you made up your mind on what to order. “hi, can we get two brown sugar milk teas with less ice and can you make one extra sugar please” you gently requested and the server instantly punched the orders in their ipad.

you take another look at the yummy donuts before continuing. “and i would like to get a dozen of the mochi donuts.” you pointed to the biggest bakery box.

jungkook wasn’t even surprised that you’re getting 12 pieces, potentially all for yourself considering you have a sweet tooth, which could be really extreme sometimes. he stands still next to you, amused by how cute you are, getting all excited by all these sweets you’re about to eat as you tell the the guy the flavors you want.

the server hands you two of their fresh brown sugar bubble milk tea & pink box that contains lots of sugar and of course, you happiness. afterwards, he declars the total for all the things you order. you’re about to tap in your debit card that’s covered with hello kitty skin when jungkook’s black card is already approved on the chip card reader.

“you didn’t have to koo” you murmur. your man always insists on paying for everything,

“i want too”

he does things for you not because he’s going to gain something or that he’s expecting some type of return from you. Rather, he does them solely because he loves you and he loves seeing you getting all the things you want.

for the meantime ,you look for a table that you two can sit at, particularly a spot where there’s a cute background since you would like to take some photos.

immediately, your eyes spot the perfect table right next to the huge windows to sit and take pictures in. you swiftly walk over the spot and your boyfriend follows you like a lost puppy.

“kook can you take pictures of me here?” you ask, while unwrapping the thick jacket around your waist and position yourself on the stool chair.

jungkook unlocks the camera on his phone, positions the cellular in your desired angle, and clicks the white button multiple times. he casually looks at the camera screen and looks up to you. when he notices that by the way your sitting is slightly showing your ass, and instantly goes up to you to fix it. you’re confused at first by his sudden action but you soon realize why.

“oops, thank you kookie” you chortle

when he goes back to his previous standing position, he catches the same annoying server maliciously staring at you, in a way that’s very unpleasant to him, which just pisses him off more. nevertheless, he captures photos of your adorable face while attempting to drink your favorite bubble tea for the camera. then, he passes his phone so you can review the images.

‘he’s such a great photographer’you thought. these picture will be posted on your pink themed finsta.

“can we go now?” jungkook harsly rushed. this place is alright, but that fucking server is just making his blood boils. he needs to get you two out of here before he does something not pretty.

you read his sudden unusual behavior and chose not to argue. you really loved this place, but you can understand that your boyfriend is too tired and just wanted to sleep. you’ll definitely come back though.

“wait koo, I'll use their restroom first.” you excuse yourself, feeling the need to change the menstrual pad that you’re wearing, you fear bleeding through jungkook’s leather seats.

you did your business pronto. unexpectedly when you walked out of the restroom, the friendly worker corners you, with something in his hand.

“miss, would you like to have this?” He offers the cute and huge hello kitty boba plushie that is in his grip. your eyes widening as they gaze upon the lovely thing. “I noticed your phone case and I thought this is perfect for you” he shyly adds as he scratches the back of his head, pointing out the pink Hello Kitty case you have.

“sure! how much is it?” you respond with full of energy. this plush will be added to your collection.

“don’t worry about it,here” he extends the plushie towards you, gesturing that you should take it.

you look for some type of unseriousness in his eyes but you found none. he does seem nice. you accept the cute plushie that’s waiting for you to be held, hugging it really tight.

“you’re really cute. do you mind if I get your number?” the man in front of you speaks. “so i can give you more plushies for free of course” he further explains, trying to convince you to give him your digits

but you remember what jungkook once said, and that is never give any other men your number. Although you can’t grasp why he doesn’t want you to do that, you listen to him because you don’t want to get him all sad and mad at you. angry jungkook is the least thing you want to deal with. he turns really cold and you hate not getting affection from him.

“I'm sorry but I can't give you my number. thanks for this though.” you give him a weak smile. you also hate the feeling of rejecting people but you also don’t want to get in trouble.

the friendly expression that the guy has been erased and replaced with a blank expression, as if ‘no’ isn’t the right answer. he snarls before speaking “Is it because of your punk boyfriend? c'mon pretty girl he doesn’t have to kno-“

“who doesn’t have to know what?” a familiar voice cuts off the man you’re facing before you can understand what the previous man just said.

jungkook approaches you, snatching the plushy in your grasp. “where did you get this from?” he sternly asks. he might have known the answer, it’s so obvious from what it looks like, but he needs to make sure before he beats somebody’s ass.

“koo he gav-“ that was enough for jungkook to vigorously slam the plushy back onto that guy’s chest, making the man flinch and slightly back off. “look or talk to my woman one more time and things will get ugly for you” he threatens, giving the guy the most serious stare, the same stare he has when fighting in the boxing ring.

without saying anything, he grabs your hand sternly and you two walk out the store. you still didn’t get why jungkook didn’t want you to have that plushie, it was perfect to add to your collection.

the entire car ride back to your place was awfully quiet. you offer to drive back home when you notice that he’s speeding and seems so tense, but jungkook refuses, telling you that he’s fully capable of driving back with a somber tone.. his tattooed hands aren’t where they’re supposed to be placed, your thigh. but you argue no further, not wanting to make him more angry than he already is.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

hours later, you’re gathering the sleepwear you’ll wear for tonight before hopping in the shower, which is currently occupied by your boyfriend. usually, you two always shower together whenever you’re sleeping at his place and vice versa, but tonight you received no invitation from him since he’s giving you silent treatment for an unknown reason.

despite the fact, you made up your mind to join him as you enter the steamy bathroom, the warm atmosphere welcomes you while you close the door behind you.

your gaze meets jungkook’s tall muscular figure, his tattooed arm up against the white wall, while head is pointing down as the hot water that’s coming from the showerhead runs down his body.

quietly strip down your clothes, you proceed to open the sliding shower door and step inside the shower, closing the distance between you and him.

jungkook faintly flinched as he felt a pair of dainty arms wrapped around his bare torso. he knew exactly who they belonged to, his loved one.

he slightly turns his head, just to see you, hopelessly showing affection towards him in the midst of washing the negative internal thoughts out of his system.

“are you mad at me baby?” you worriedly ask, overthinking that you might have done something that might upset him or maybe he’s too stressed out on his non-stop training schedule since his competitions are coming soon or maybe he can’t handle being with you anymore. lots of maybe but communication is the only way you will know how he feels.

the question of yours sends a sharp pang of guilt in his chest. you completely did nothing wrong. he knows for a fact you can’t say no to anyone who gives you a Hello Kitty plushie. your tiny little head just can’t comprehend that these guys want something in return for giving you things you love to collect. you’re too good for your own.

now he feels like a total idiot, another part of him feels guilty for the sudden shift in his behavior, solely because he's so in love with you that he can’t stand seeing men look at your way.

you did nothing wrong. nothing at all. you’re just so goddamn beautiful that your boyfriend is starting to lose it.

he can’t help but let the possessiveness take over him as soon as he perceives other guys showing their interest in his pretty girl. the woman he desires to keep to himself for the rest of this lifetime, the next one, and for many more

jungkook crowds you up against the cold marble wall just after he turns his buff body to face you. wasting no time, he leaves smooches on your pouty lips and jaw. “didn’t I tell you I'm the only one who can give you hello kitty stuff?” he sensually whispers to your right ear, continuing to give you wet kisses. “hmm?”

“but why?” you pout, resulting in the kisses to come to stop. he looks at you directly in the eyes, “because i’m your boyfriend and that job is solely for me” he simply explains

“but koo it was for free, he was really nice but then he started asking for my number so he could give me more but i didn’t give it to him because you specifically instructed me not to.” you mindlessly babble, explaining your side all in one sentence. simultaneously, you grab the white loofa next to the pink one and apply jungkook’s favorite body wash. it still doesn’t make sense to you. you love collecting hello kitty, but the love you have for the man in front of you is significantly greater.

oh jungkook is really going to lose it. that fucker had the audacity to ask you shit like that right when you’re with him.

“and that’s why I don’t want you talking to them, they want to take advantage of you” he takes a deep breath

“i’m sorry kook” you mutter, attempting to cuddle his naked form.

“i know something was off with that motherfucker” he starts off, “keeps looking at you in a way i don’t appreciate” he finally admits, with his tone hinting a pinch of jealousy. “and that fucking plush- he’s getting on my fucking nerves.”

“all he can do is look koo” you laugh. “Besides, I’m already cuffed by my hot boyfriend. what more can I possibly look for?” your words declaring that your eyes are only fixed to him. there’s no reason to look at other men anyways.

“you’re only mine right?” he just needs to directly hear those words come out of your mouth.

“only yours” you murmur. and that reassured him. for now.

you stand on your tiptoe to kiss his cute nose, from there you smack your lips against his as your smooth palms trace his jawline.

as seconds goes by, the desire to express how much you love him is rapidly growing. you want him. you need him.

you detach your lips against his, just to fixate them on his neck, right on the pretty tiny mole on his skin, your favorite spot. your hand does its own job to explore his sculpted body, finding its way to palm his painful growing erection.

he knows where this is going

your kisses trail from his upper chest to his defined abs; so brawny and delicious. he follows your gesture, finding you on your knees, beneath him, your beautiful face positioned right in front of his hardening cock.

oh this is the one and only circumstance he would kill and die for to be in.

jungkook knows that sly grin expression you wear as you look up with those round doll eyes. purposely, your both arms push against each other to give him a good view of your perky breast squeezed together. with his shaft twitching, can’t help but to utter an uncontrollable moan from seeing you like this.

“can I?” you ask softly, waiting for permission from him as if you’re not in this sinful position at least twice every time you two spend time together. no matter what, you still drool by just staring at his cock as if it’s your favorite lollipop.

he quietly hums and nods his head while nibbling his lip piercings, giving you the green light.

you start off slow, giving his pretty pink tip covered with precum small pecks. smearing the liquid around your lips, pretending it as if it’s one of your lip gloss, making them nice and glossy.

sweet

“i only wanna do this with you” you hungrily voice out in each swift peck while locking your seductive eyes on his.

he brings his fingers towards your jaw, lifting your chin up. “open” he commands, directing you to open your mouth. and so you did, without hesitation. a hot glob of spit falls into your tongue, which turns you on even more. you quickly swallow it and resume with what you’re doing.

he continues to watch you as your swollen lips slowly wrap his thick cock. your mouth is solely made for jungkook as it welcomes him inch by inch. although sucking him becomes a part of your daily routine, you still need to take a sweet time adjusting to his length.

irresistible tears roll down your face as he hits the back of your throat for the first few times, but you’re so determined to make him feel good. you began bobbing your head back and forth as your mouth slowly adjusted to his size.

“hmm, so good baby” he muffles weakly. “j-just like that” almost sounds as if he’s about to cry from the incredible sensation.

you can’t help but to release a quiet whine from hearing him. the steamy bathroom is filled with jungkook's angelic yet sinful groans, along with the sounds that’s being created as you which arouse you even more. he’s got your pussy clenching over nothing.

your bent knees on the cold and wet ground are starting to get tired, but you pay no attention to them. rather, you take him even more, until his tip hits the back of your throat. you continue to do it smoothly, using no hands.

you proceed to shift your attention to untouched balls. your tiny hand softly jerks off his length upward, as a trail of kisses made their way from the underside of his girthy and veiny cock to one of the oval-shaped organs. wet and loud smooches on jungkook’s sensitive skin turn to sloppy sucking. your mouth is so full of him. a mixture of his precum and saliva of yours covers your entire chin, even some of it drops on the ground.

this sequence stirs more moans from jungkook, but this time he gets louder and louder. his slender hands acts at its own and gather your length hair into a ponytail, just so he can manipulate your head, to use you however he pleases

Jungkook pulls your hair back, causing you to lose contact with the sac you were passionately lapping. he leads you mouth back to where it should give its focus to. his throbbing cock. once his dewy dick is shoved in you, he pushes your cock drunk head to take more of him. you obediently follow the flow of the hand guiding your head

“such a good girl” he grunts, throwing his head up in the air, then focusing back on you. “only for me”. your boyfriend is still controlling your head bobbing on his length.

“you’re such a slut for a fucking hello kitty, aren’t you?” jungkook mocks in between deep breaths. “me or that stupid kitty cat? huh?” thrusting his hips into your messy and well-fucked face.

you just moan against him, not even bothering to answer him because you’re too fucked, your tiny little brain is wearing out as you keep bouncing your head up and down. and also it might be because you know for a fact that you could be a slut for hello kitty too sometimes. you’re in no position to protest.

the man above you grips your hair even tighter, demanding you to answer him. “I wanna hear you baby”

“‘mmh you, o-only you koo,” you sob. lots and lots of tears coming out of your eyes. “all I want is you and this cock” you mewl weakly as you desperately lap his precious tip, just like how he loves it.

“that’s it, pretty girl, I'm cummin’” he verbalizes, grasping your head forcibly as slamming his pelvis into your abused mouth. to this point, you feel dizzy and your whole body is worn out. you grip into his beefy thighs as you allow him to utilize you like a slut.

“hmpp f-fuck” he moans loudly, releasing abundant strings of semen into your mouth. he cums so deep inside your throat. not wanting a drop to fall, you gobble up everything as your life depends on them.

after swallowing, you show him your empty mouth, with tongue being out. you can see in his half lidded eyes that he’s proud, giving you a soft smile.

you were about to get up when all of a sudden the dizzy spell hits you real hard, causing you to lose your balance but jungkook catches you before you can even fall.

“hey, you okay? Did I go too hard?” he locks his gaze upon you, hoping that you will lock yours to him too. but you didn’t as you are sobbing and trembling a little bit. jungkook wipes the dries tears on your swollen face with one hand while the other wraps around your waist. he might have gone harder than you can handle.

“baby look at me please? did I hurt you? i'm sor—“

“koo i’m okay” you faintly cut his sentence off. he doesn’t need to be sorry. “just need a few minutes to recover” you explain. jungkook immediately understands that. he gives you minutes of peaceful silence, with that, he takes care of washing your body. gently rubbing the pink loofah in your smooth skin as he hums the song that’s been stuck in your brain for quite a while.

after showering, he helps you slip on your baby pink dainty nightgown. this dress is special. jungkook got it for you when he flew abroad for one of his boxing competitions. one day, he and his team were strolling around the fancy mall when he passed by a cute local lingerie store that you will definitely check out, only if you were with him. of course, he chose to follow what his heart tells him to do, to go inside and find a thing or two to give you as soon as he comes home. to you.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆

both yours and jungkook’s bodies are situated on your twin sized bed. in spite of the fact that there’s not much for the two of you and one of you might fall on the ground if another moves a little, it’s not a hurdle as you two embrace each other’s warmth as if there’s no tomorrow. two bodies comfortably embracing one another. tonight, you’re designated to be the tiny spoon

“ggukie..” you murmur, hot breath fanning against his bare chest. “hmm??” jungkook looks down to see what his princess needs.

“want your cock”you weakly pleaded, causing the man to slightly chuckle. you must be out of your mind.

“baby, your body is tired” said by him, shaking his head to show his disapproval. what a silly idea that goes around your mind when your eyes can barely open. you’re really out here doing everything but to sleep. he continues to caress your soft hair.

on a side note, you and jungkook never had penetrative sex before. yes, he eats you out here and there and vice versa. but he never dares to insert himself inside you.

indeed you’re a virgin but it’s not that you never wanted to. matter of fact you’ve made up your mind and are willing to give your virginity to him. jungkook is well aware of that. however, fear of hurting you always troubles him. he’s afraid that you will go through pain, scared that he’ll break you: his fragile pretty girl

“need your cock inside me” you continue to whine. “didn’t I show you a video of me from last week taking the toy you gifted me? you said I did so well” reminding him that one video clip of you masturbating to the pink rose you got from him. how could he forget about that when he uses it to get off every single night? with full on volume too, all ears concentrate on your high pitched moans, giving him more than the satisfaction he craves. the thoughts of that makes the lust that nearly vanishes inside him linger, you just never fail to get him arouse even before going to sleep.

however, jungkook is still in his right mind. “that’s different,” he argues. it’s valid to doubt that he’ll fit.

“ok then just put it in me then we can sleep?” you beg, attempting to compromise. “just wanna feel you close while I sleep. can you imagine how much I missed you?” you’ve come to an extent to use the guilt trip tool to convince him.

he understands the emotion you’re trying to make him feel as he looks into your bambi doe eyes. looking so innocent yet begging for his cock. evoking his guilt to get what you want. jungkook recognizes you in and out, you won’t take no for an answer. also it’s not like he’s not dying to do it, as if he doesn’t fantasize about it when you sleep over at his penthouse. the amount of self control he has..

you have him on a chokehold. jungkook doesn’t say anything, rather he gently lifts up the arm which your head is laying on and slightly gets up to open the pink mini cabinet on top of your nightstand, taking out a sky blue container.

“here, apply it”, throwing the lube bottle on your lap.

you’re stunned, heart excitedly does jumping jacks inside your chest. next time it will be you doing jumping jacks on his di-

“cmon cutie I don’t have all night” he blurts, interrupting your thoughts. you never get up so fast in your nineteen years of living. he goes straight back to his original position, laid on his back. he may act chill,but he’s internally pleased and aroused.

as you go down on him (again), your two hands get a grip of the band of his black boxer and pull it down, his semi-hard cock immediately springs out. you can’t help but to give it a tiny peck before giving it a few strokes as you point it towards your lips

you open the bottle up with a pop, squirting out enough lube on your fingers before gently spreading it on his tip. he hisses as he feels the cold liquid substance being applied to him. you trace the sides of his length, ensuring the reduction of friction.

he grabs your arm, guiding your body to lay down sideways next to him. a tattooed veiny arm from behind snakes around your torso, clasping your upper body.

“ready?” he whispers, as he nibbles your ear. jungkook earns longingly nods from you, and for a split moment he spreads some liquid using his lubricated tip around your private area before slowly inserting it in. you discern the penetrating sensation in your core, which makes you purr.

he continues to penetrate inside you furthermore, causing you to close your eyes and tighten your clasp on his arms as you bear with the ache. he fully aware of how you’re feeling as he’s also having a hard time moving in.

“bare with me baby” tensely reassuring you. “so t-tight, fuck.” his other arm makes its journey below your nightgown, traveling its way to your perky breast, delicately squeezing one of them. jungkook does the same and gives the attention to the other one. simultanously, he plants a few smooches on the skin behind your ear, attemping to distract you from the pain. you quietly release moans and groans as he continues. he’s inches in when he feels your wall clenching around him.

your tight pussy becomes jungkook’s personal paradise. it’s the way your walls are clenching around him is better than he imagined; unmatched from all the fantasy he creates in his mind about you.

“koo.. “ your fingers tracing the veins on the back of his palm.

“what? my baby can’t handle it? tell me and I’ll stop” he softly asks. a tear just drops from you leg but you’re too tired to even react.

“n-no just stay inside, i’m sleepy” and with that, you instantly drift to sleep.

he hums, a hand that was busy playing on your chest shifts to caress your hair. jungkook lays one last kiss at your temple.

“goodnight to you too my pretty girl, love you so much”

series m.list

[pomefioredove]

heyyy! i really love your writing🥹🥹 btw can i request a hc with riddle and jamil (separated) with gn!reader who’s very lazy and they have a test and only study the morning before the test? but somehow pass?? i wanna see their reaction

anyway sorry if i made any mistakes, this is my very first request and english is not my first language😔 it’s fine if you can’t do it!!

-🎲

no worries! this is a great request, their reactions would be very funny

summary: reader miraculously passes a test they last-minute studied for type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, jamil additional info: platonic or romantic, reader is not specified to be yuu, reader is gender neutral, not proofread

Jamil knew that it wasn't his place to judge

after all, being raised with the al-Asims, he'd been taught to keep his bitter thoughts to himself

but something about your carelessness reminded him all too much of Kalim

...okay... maybe you weren't exactly partying, or spacing out, but your complete lack of conviction is almost identical

and, so, Jamil decides to give you a word of advice the day before the big exam

"Worried about tomorrow's History of Magic test?"

he even gives you a big smile, trying to play it off as a casual question

you shrug. "Eh, not really,"

"If I were you, I'd be a little more concerned. The grading system is very strict at NRC,"

and with that, he's gone

his sly remark, spoken as if in friendly conversation, leaves him feeling a little more satisfied with himself

he doesn't even feel irked when Kalim nearly sleeps through the test, or when he forgets his notes, or when he absent-mindedly reads the questions aloud during...

in fact, Jamil is quite confident that in any case, you'll do much worse than Kalim, which saves the both of them

after the exam scores are posted in the hall, you find him

"What did you get?"

Jamil hates answering these kinds of questions, especially knowing that he could be in the top of the class if he was allowed to try. "Passing. And you?"

"Well..." you smile. "I really thought about what you said, so I studied this morning."

Jamil's sour mood at his own score seems to lighten

you studied the morning of the exam? oh, this was going to be rich

"...And I got full marks!"

...what.

you show him the paper and it takes all his strength to keep his usual poker face

otherwise, his jaw would drop

"How did... how?"

you shrug. "Good study plan, I guess,"

"Hmph," he crosses his arms. "Well, then... you'll have to come tutor Kalim sometime. What works for you must work for him,"

Riddle spends the entire week pestering you about studying

"I just don't feel like it," you groan

goodness. you sound just like that terrible Floyd...

"It's not a matter of want, it's a matter of need. This exam counts for a significant amount of your grade!"

"Eh... I'll just wing it,"

wing it?! oh, now you've really done it

"Consider yourself lucky for not being a part of Heartslabyul. I would have your head for that!"

and then he storms out. how graceful!

when he sees you the following afternoon, that calm, unbothered look of yours is still on your face. it drives him mad

"If I were you, I'd be praying," he says. he's almost smug about it

Riddle earns full points on every exam- it's just a given. he's sure that the two of you will be on polar opposites of the grade spectrum once the results are posted

you shrug. "Yeah, about that... I thought about what you said, and decided that I don't want to have to retake this class. So I studied this morning,"

he almost smirks. "One last-minute cram won't be enough to raise your grade above failing, I'm afraid. But perhaps this will serve as a lesson, next time you-"

Riddle stops dead in his tracks as Trein posts the exam results on the wall behind you

his eyes widen

"Full... full marks?! We're in the same percent!? How is that possible?!"

You chuckle as his face goes all red, both frustrated and flustered

"Hey, you should count this as a victory for yourself. You give great advice,"

[callie-the-creator]

ayato aishi dating a yandere!reader hcs

sfw. warnings: yandere & obsessive behavior, jealousy, mentions of elimination of rivals, etc.

author’s note: this was also posted on my wattpad, just wanted to tell you all that beforehand, so no need to worry!

• when he realized that you were the same as him, ayato turned into the surprised pikachu meme, just looking at you all like: (ʘᗩʘ')

• but how did ayato find out, exactly? well...it took him a good few days to connect the dots fully. he didn't suspect you to be a yandere until well into dating you, that's when he started noticing things. a few of his shirts and other garments were missing— which is to be expected— but when he asked you about them, you pretended like you had no clue what happened to them which further deepened his curiosity. next, ayato began to pick up on things like whenever he wouldn't be hanging out with you and would be out doing whatever, he'd miraculously bump into you. quite the coincidence, isn't it? that's what ayato tried to chalk it up to at first but soon found out that you were following him around.

• soooo, one day when you were out of your house with your family, ayato took it upon himself to snoop

— he climbed into the window leading into your bedroom and practically turned the place upside down. of course, he was careful. he didn't want to give off the impression to you, along with your family, that he was ever here. ayato started by going through your drawers and found some of his clothes stashed inside (which he may or may not have stolen back) before opening your closet where he came face to face with a shrine dedicated to him.

— it was nothing compared to his, sure, but it was still impressive. not only that, but you had printed out some photos of him and littered them around the shrine.

• after he was looking through things, he left with his stolen clothes in tow but when you got back home and returned to your room, you felt something was off because of one thing that caught your attention: the window was open, something you definitely weren't responsible for. afraid that one of your parents was in your room or worse, you began looking around only to find that ayato's shirts and boxers that you had taken a while back had disappeared. scoffing, you pulled out your phone and texted him: "were you in my room??"

— ayato, as expected, tried to deny this but you easily saw through this act of his because you were well aware of the fact that before you agreed to be his girlfriend, he was stalking you. what followed was a conversation where both of you just let things hang out and confessed to a slew of things, you more so than ayato but luckily, you two continued to date after this (but it's not like either one of you would let the other leave willingly).

• you and ayato constantly vie for each other's attention, engaging in elaborate schemes to outdo one another in displays of affection; from leaving love notes hidden in unexpected places to planning extravagant surprises.

• you two are fiercely protective of each other, to the point where you may occasionally clash with anyone they perceive as a threat to your relationship

— ayato is more physical about it though. there will be times when he'll show up at your doorstep all bruised and bloody. he loves how worried you look when you help clean him up! even more when you pout, thinking he was the one who got hurt, and embrace him in a hug as you play with his hair

— when you get jealous over someone, it's the complete opposite. you're vocal about it, maybe not to ayato, but to the person you view as a rival. so, when you find them the next day at school, you'll outright tell them that ayato is your boyfriend. if they continue to be a problem, that's when you'll take things to the next level and eliminate them.

• both of you are skilled manipulators, adept at bending others to their will, testing each other's boundaries, and pushing the limits of control but they would only do the latter to their partner. though, there is really a 50/50 chance that their manipulation and gaslighting would work on another.

• anyway, good luck dating each other because you can't leave haha 🫡

[redr0sewrites]

HIYYAAA if it's not too much to ask I wanted to request if you could write Adam, Lucifer, Alastor, Vox and Val having an S/o with weather based powers, like their emotions can influence the weather. Thanks <3

YESSSSSS OFC! I LOVE THIS IDEA SM I LITERALLY SQUEALED WHEN I SAW IT IN MY INBOX HEHE

🥀Cw: none really, mostly fluff, a bit of omplied smut in vals part but what do u expect

Adam

adam is not the most self aware, so it takes him a while to realize that your emotions coinciding with the weather are not just some cosmic coincidence

it strikes him as odd that whenever the two of you argue, the weather in heaven is always particularly nasty, but he doesn't bring it up because he thinks its an idiotic theory

when you eventually explain your powers to him he has the biggest AHA moment ever

honestly adam loves your powers and finds them to be so interesting. he was the first man after all, he was one of the first few to navigate earth's tumultuous weather patterns. seeing you control the weather and watching how it reflects your emotions is genuinely intriguing to him, and adam brags about your powers to others ALL the time

seriously though, adam is always yapping about how he has the most powerful partner and how you're powers are so unique. he genuinely admires you so much and wants everyone else to see you the same way

your powers are useful when it comes to arguments because adam is not the most self aware person, and he tends to not realize when you're upset until you actually flip out

even when you're not upset with him, adam makes sure to do his best to calm you down when he notices the weather being particularly wild

if anyone ever gives you shit about your powers, know that adam will be the first in line to punch them in the face. he knows you can't control your emotions sometimes and never blames wild weather on you

i think adams the type to enjoy warmer weather, and he always cracks the biggest smile when the weather miraculously turns to his favorite type when you're on a date together

definitely loves beach days with you, and the fact that you can make it permanently sunny is so enticing for him

Lucifer

still pissed they took the yellow font away from me

honestly luci is such a sweetie when it comes to your powers. he probably picked up on them pretty quickly considering how powerful you are, but he didn't want to be nosy so he waited until you mentioned your powers to ask questions.

he definitely did have a lot of adorable questions, and was very intrigued about the fact that your emotions were the catalyst that controlled your powers.

after learning that piece of information, he starts paying attention to the weather more often. even before he's dating you, luci will call you to ask how your doing when ever he sees the weather going haywire. he's learned to prepare himself for any weather misfortunes that occur, and always comforts you when you're feeling down

lucifer is quite attentive even without your powers revealing your emotions, and he will often be able to calm you down before the weather even takes a turn for the worse

he would never want to weaponize your powers or use them in any way because he knows how closely linked they are to your emotions. howeeeeeeveeeerrrr, he does admire you when you stand up for yourself with your powers and will definitely cheer you on from the sidelines as you kick ass with the weather without even standing up

lucifers favorite weather is snow!!!! on your guys' first year anniversary, you made it snow inside your shared bedroom as a gift and luci nearly CRIES. he hasn't seen snow in years bc, yk, its hell, not very snowy weather, so the fact that you put in so much effort to make his favorite weather for him honestly makes him feel so appreciated

after that he might ask you to make it snow more often, and he loves cuddling up with you with hot cocoa to watch a cheesy movie while pretty smowflakes fall all around you both

Alastor

alastor would be intrigued by your powers to say the least. he's quick to figure out what they are, and would probably be drawn to you solely because you're so powerful. in fact he'd probably either try to use you for your power or challenge you and be petty, but over time he found himself growing a soft spot not only for your weather powers, but for you

i love al but he definitely saw u as an asset at first, in fact he was probably a bit intimidated and irritated by the spontaneity of your powers, but also very intrigued by your raw ability. he probably found himself attracted to your power more than anything at first, but once he got to know you, alastor began to see you as more than an asset and as a genuine friend, and that feeling continued to grow into something alastor was very unfamiliar with.

alastor probably picked up on your feelings towards him from your powers, and the fact that flowers would literally bloom whenever he was around. it definitely improved his confidence about his feelings and he'd probably pester you a bit into admitting your feelings for him. to your shock he reciprocates, and soon you become hells greatest power couple

alastor sees it as a weakness when someone wears their heart on their sleeve and is very emotional, so he will be very protective of you when your emotions are running rampant and the weather is reflecting that

he does NOT want people to know about your powers because he wouldn't want other sinners to try to hurt you, influence you, or use you to get to him

he'd definitely help you to master them and control them better, and would probably keep track of what each form of weather means and how it correlates to each of your emotions

honestly al loves your powers, and is so intuitive about when you're getting upset. i think he's the type to enjoy rainy weather, so he loves when you make it rain. while he rarely sleeps, once he trusts you enough some nights he'll ask you to make it rain at nightime because the soothing noise helps him sleep

Vox

vox understands that sometimes sinners aren't always happy about the powers and forms they receive in death- for goodness sake, he literally lost his head and has to deal with having a literal television as a head, so he understands it if you struggle with your powers

vox would encourage you to use your power, in fact he would probably love to see you electrocute your enemies or blow them away, vox is entranced by power and would be even more attracted to you if you were powerful

loves when you make it storm during alastors broadcasts so the radio is always staticy and cutting out, it always makes him giggle

it took vox a while to notice your powers, but once you fully explain them, he has LOTS of questions

hes a bit worried about your rain and his TV head at first, after all electronics and weather don't often mix, so he makes sure to waterproof himself and any technology you migh be around

(theres something so poetic about him falling in love with someone who holds the power to dismantle his entire technological empire and destroy his existence- ok i'll stop yapping)

vox doesn't go out very often, but when he does, his favorite weather is warm weather but with a nice cool breeze.

vox would use you for weather forecasts and people often wonder how he's always so accurate! little do they know about his sweet darling controlling the weather for him!

sometimes vox will text you in the morning with a goofy guess on what the weather will be today, something crazy like "the sky will be green" and lo and behold, when he opens his curtains, the sky is green and he is very, very surprised

Valentino

very enticed by your powers to say the least

your beautiful, smart, and powerful? sign him up!

would probably ask you to film in some of his pornos and would use your powers for kink-related uses, such as like a mild electrocution kink (lightning) or waterboarding (rain, etc) or something like that

this oblivious man would probably not notice your powers AT ALL until you explain them to him, he's honestly so clueless but he finds them interesting regardless!!!

valentino is not the most aware of other people's emotions and he can be oblivious sometimes, so the weather is a great gauge of your emotions

he immediately knows when your horny bc he's memorized the weather patterns when you giys have sex.... u hear sum?

he likes teasing you and then hearing thunder boom outside

val loves that his partner is powerful, and loves showing you off and showing off your powers. he's absolutely supporting your right and wrongs

valentino loves hot weather, it gives him an excuse to wear lowkey scandalous clothing so he loves when you make the weather very hot

he assumes you have more control over your powers than you actually do sometimes, and will be surprised when the weather starts acting up as your trying to stay calm

for example, val will tease you by sending you a dirty picture of himself or flashing you a glimpse of his lingerie under his coat and will snicker endlessly when the entire room starts to heat up as the weather suddenly grows uncomfortably hot

sometimes when he's pissed at one or both of the other vees, he'll hve you cause a storm in their offices/rooms just for shits and giggles

SORRY THIS REQ TOOK 500 YEARS ITS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR AGES <\\3 i have never written for valentino before so im sorry his is so short😭 im trying my best yall BUTTTT ANYWAYS EXPECT SOME MORE WRITING STUFFS BC IM OFF SCHOOL FOR THIS WEEK

[yurishots]

CAFE AU ━ o. miya

GENRE ━ fluff + the smallest amount of angst

WC ━ 770

Ever since Osamu has aged and settled into his new life as a shop and home owner, it seems like couples have been miraculously popping up everywhere he looks. He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a bit of loneliness seeing couples in booths sharing the food he made. Him being a romantic never helped either—the fantasy of seeing his s/o after a long day at Onigiri Miya plagued his mind constantly, as well as the domestic feeling of coming home knowing that someone will be there waiting for him. 

The brunette began to put himself out there more, but not like his blonde counterpart. It was more subtle; making more conversation with his patrons and posting a little more on instagram. He became a fanatic for a short while—constantly stalking his notifications and dm requests even though he knew there would be nothing new. He contemplated giving up on the whole romance act, maybe it's a luxury only certain people can have. 

Sighing for the fifth time this morning, Osamu shoves his phone into his back pocket. A past friend of his posted some pictures from his wedding. “Must be nice,” he mumbles under his breath. After washing his hands, he prepares to head to the back before hearing a delicate voice break the silence of his early morning shift. 

“Hi, can I get a coffee?” Osamu froze as he heard the voice of this customer, he’s never heard anything like it. He looks up to see a smile adorning your face as you wait for him to confirm the order. The shop owner hopes he doesn’t look stupid as he quickly wipes his hands on his apron and clears his throat. 

Osamu quirked up his brow in curiosity,”just a coffee?” The request was quite vague, there’s a million coffees in the world, he’s not a mind reader after all. 

“What kind? we carry a bunch of flavors y’know!” He watched as an amused expression took over your face as you listened to him. 

“Well, I actually don’t know since your menu up there is quite empty.” Osamu looked up at the digital menu screen above him to realize that it is indeed—blank. a wave of embarrassment washes over him as he grabs the remote off the counter behind him and presses the on button. The menu soon lit up with a bunch of options for you to continue your less detailed coffee order from earlier. 

“I'm really sorry about that,” his face feels flushed from the embarrassment of the moment and because of the sound of your laughter entering his ears. 

“It's fine, I'll take an espresso.” Osamu nodded as he entered your order into the system in front of him. “And your name?” You looked up quickly with a small ‘hm?’ and gave him your name, “Y/n L/n.” The tapping noise resumed as he typed in your name, smiling softly at the fact he knows you a little bit more. As you leave the counter to find a seat, the shop begins to fill up slowly as people come in for breakfast. 

Usually Osamu calls out his customer’s names for them to grab their items, but he felt as if you deserved the delivery. He calms his nerves before walking over to your table by the window, “Here you go Y/n,” he says softly as he hands you your mug, telling you to be careful because it's hot. He slowly retreats back to his spot behind the counter to make the orders since his coworker has shown up to take them. Watching you out of the corner of his eye, he smiles seeing that you’re enjoying your drink as you gaze out the window. “Osamu!” His co worker snapped to get his attention, the amount of drinks he had to prepare had piled up. Sending her an apologetic look, he got back to work. 

After making and sending off the last coffee, he looked over to where you were sitting to see an empty table with a lonely mug. Osamu sucked his teeth, he planned on asking you if you enjoyed it. As he walked over to the table to clean it, he noticed a slip of paper poking out from under the mug. He grabbed it and read its contents. 

“Y/n L/n: XXX-XXX-XXXX. here’s my number, I’d like to talk to you some more. P.S: I saw you staring at me ;p.” 

Smiling to himself, he pocketed the note and cleaned up the previously occupied table. Maybe this romance thing isn’t so hard after all. 

[shaunamilfman]

Me when I see your domestic Shauna hcs and immediately decide I need a Nat version so this is my formal request for some

If you want to ofc no pressure I just love your writing

-📝

Domestic Nat Headcanons

pairing: Nat Scatorccio x Reader note: no crash au. nat in her 20's. idk why i answered this so quick tbh

in my mind, Nat's a bartender. maybe opens her own bar one day in the future so she can get away with giving a few free drinks to people that aren't assholes. she charges the assholes double, of course. 

sleeps till like 2 every day and has black-out curtains over every window in her apartment. if you like natural sunlight, your ass is going to have to go outside. 

if you're asleep by the time she gets home, your ass will be waking up. she never does it on purpose, she just has no idea how loud she really is. humming quietly in the shower after work and not even thinking about the fact that the wall would amplify it. you don't have the heart to tell her to stop. 

on the flip side, she never really gets that annoyed if you wake her up while she's asleep. just rolls her eyes as you get up, and pretends not to be pleased when you kiss her forehead. immediately rolls back over and falls right back asleep. it's almost impressive how quick she is. 

blasts music while she's getting ready, or doing just about anything that allows her too. you're always coming home to her gaming and blasting music on her days off. 

night owl even on her days off, always has been. it's a rare sight to see her up before noon, and it's only if you or one of her friends specifically asked her. leaving the house with her sunglasses on and almost hissing at the sun. 

Nat can't cook for shit except for a few staple foods that she'd eat every meal if you'd let her. she's not necessarily bad at it, she just doesn't really have the patience for it. 

her space constantly looks like a hurricane came through it, but she always miraculously knows where everything is. if you try to organize it for her, she'll be so lost. messes it back up the second your back is turned. 

You constantly catch her in the middle of the night making the weirdest snack combination known to man. If the sight of her eating it doesn't make you want to gag, then she's not doing it right. 

has a half feral cat with some mean ass name like ‘bastard’ or some shit that she leaves food out for. she saved his life when he got stuck and almost starved, and got permanent scars as a thank you. the cat comes and goes as he please, and neither of you are sure how he's getting in or out. 

she always pretends the scars were from something much cooler whenever somebody asks. it's a different story every time. you think she must have a list somewhere she adds to when she gets bored. they're starting to get really creative. 

you witness the cat getting into a nasty street fight with another cat and Nat's just like “hell yeah, go bastard!”

the first time you visited Nat's apartment, the only furniture she had in the living room was a beanbag chair and a TV setup propped up on a box. gallantly offers you the bean bag chair as she eats on the floor cross-legged next to you. 

she insists that she was always going to get more furniture and that it was just temporary, but you're not so sure. the first thing she buys is this beat to shit couch that's somehow the most comfortable thing you've ever sat on. she's so proud of it. 

if you didn't force her to get more, Nat would only own one fork, one spoon, one plate, etc. insists that she can just watch them.

likes going out with your or her friends, but isn't as much of a fan of hosting the events. makes it harder to just leave when she starts getting tired of them. always tried to make you be the bad guy whenever she wants to go. “sorry guys, she's tired.” meanwhile you're wide awake. 

Nat's really good at fixing things, mostly out of necessity. still, if something’s busted, there's a good chance Nat's already on her way to the hardware store to get parts before you've even noticed. she really enjoys the process of fixing shit and ends up getting really into cars because of it. if it wasn't for the hours, she'd consider being a mechanic. 

absolute coffee fiend. you rarely see her without a cup. only drinks it black and will turn her nose up at the sugary stuff. she's not pretentious about it though, it's just how she likes it. 

Nat randomly comes home with little gifts for you, tossing it at you without really acknowledging it. if you press her on it she'll say some shit like “saw it and thought of you.” 

she's not a big fan of surprises. she has a bit of a routine and whenever there's a major interruption to it she gets a little antsy. with the way Nat grew up ,she really appreciates knowing just about how her days going to go before she starts it. 

Nat really enjoys watching movies with you. it doesn't really matter what it is as long as she can just turn her brain off and watch. she likes physical contact, but isn't super big on cuddling per se. the type to lift your legs up into her lap when you're laying across the couch.

[venusacrossthestars]

Doughnut Holes

Pairing- Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

A/N: I literally hate this, this is a hodgepodge of randomness, I'm so sorry. I also really want a doughnut hole now. This is @arieslost doing, we couldn't stop talking about Lando and I loved every second.

WC- 6k-ish

F1 masterlist

One might compare the inner workings of a Formula 1 team to a carefully crafted house. You had the foundation, walls, floor, roof, all of the main components that made a structurally secure house. Then you had the fluff- all the things that weren’t technically needed but the things ultimately made a house, a home. Without the fluff, the house was nothing but a cold, unwelcoming shell. 

You would be considered a part of the fluff, you were among those who brought the warmth, the love, and all of the things that the others didn’t. While McLaren didn’t necessarily need you to run successfully, it seemed that a certain driver did. 

Lando considered McLaren to be his second home, after all, he does spend the majority of the year with them. The people, the constant movement, nothing was ever still and for the most part he enjoyed it. His whole career was based around speed, but sometimes he couldn’t help but wish for it all to slow down.

Like everyone, Lando had his good days, and then his not-so-good days. The latter becoming more and more constant. It would start off with something small- waking up five minutes before his alarm went off, putting on a pair of socks only to find one had a hole in it, or arrive at a meeting- only to find out that all the doughnut holes were gone. Then it would escalate, it could be anything, from learning that something was wrong with the car to having media duties after a terrible qualifying. Lately, anything that could go wrong was going wrong. 

The first time Lando had met you, well more like the first time Lando saw you, was no different. Lando had woken up late, couldn’t find a pair of matching socks, and had a half-dead phone because his charger had broke the night before. He didn’t care for meetings when he was in a good mood, and he certainly cared for them less when he was in a bad mood. By some miracle, he arrived on time for the meeting but not nearly early enough for a doughnut hole. Lando closed his eyes for a moment, he could hear as more and more people entered the conference room and hoped that this day could only get better. 

“Mate, you look like crap.” Lando’s eyes snap open and turn to the Aussie driver who looks at him with a frown. 

“It really hasn’t been my morning, more like it hasn’t been my week. Nothing is going right and frankly, I’m sick of it.” 

Oscar gives him a sad smile, “I’m sure things will turn around.” 

“I hope so.” 

The meeting had begun like every other meeting, a promise for a good season, what was being worked on, the same old same old. However, they weren’t even at the twenty-minute mark when another person entered the conference room. Lando, like everyone else in the room, turned their heads to the newcomer. 

“Sorry,” the newcomer squeaked out, clearly embarrassed by all the attention focused on her. “I’m just here to drop off the flash drive you forgot Zak.” 

“Oh, thank you Y/N, what would we do without you?”

“Crash and burn, sir. Crash and burn,” the girl- now known as Y/N replied with a smile. And although you weren't smiling at Lando, he really wished you were. 

You had left as quickly as she had came, the only thing left in Lando’s mind after the meeting was your smile and the fact that his day had gotten miraculously better. 

Bad days didn’t typically phase you, it generally meant that things would only get better. 

But, walking in late to a meeting you weren’t even a part of was not the pick me up you needed. The day had already started out rough- your car wouldn’t start, your sock had a hole in it, and worst of all- catering was out of doughnut holes by the time you got there. 

It was a quick 1, 2, 3 drop and go but there were so many important people in that room, including the two McLaren drivers. Even though you didn’t do anything remotely embarrassing, you were up that entire night overthinking it, but in reality, it wasn’t like anyone was going to remember the girl who simply dropped off a flash drive. 

A week had passed since the meeting, and things were looking up for little Lando Norris. He had matching socks, a working phone charger, and most importantly he was holding the last powdered doughnut hole. However, he had not seen the girl from the meeting anywhere. It wasn’t surprising with how many people were coming and going, each had their own responsibilities. That didn’t mean Lando wasn’t disappointed, there was something about that girl. 

A quiet ‘son of a bitch’ caused Lando to snap out of his thinking, as he turned to face who was muttering such profanities so early in the morning he was met with the slight of you standing at the catering table. 

“Everything ok?” Lando would be a fool if he was going to let his opportunity to talk to you slip through his fingers. 

“Huh?” you responded almost unsure if the Lando Norris was talking to you. 

“You just swore? So I’m assuming something happened?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing really, its just that- never mind it's stupid.”

“Not stupid enough for you to be swearing at 8 in the morning.”

You wave your hand dismissively, "it's just that I woke up on time and got here early all for a doughnut hole and there's none left.” 

Lando casts his eyes down to the napkin in his hand that contains the last doughnut hole and holds it out to you, “here you can have mine.” 

You look down at his extended hand and bring both of yours up in protest, “No it's ok. I think I’ll survive without it.” 

“No take it, I shouldn’t really even be eating it.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely positive,” Lando says as he holds his hand out further. 

“Thank you,” you take the precious breakfast treat with little hesitance and pop it into your mouth. 

“I’m Lando by the way,” Lando holds out his now empty hand. 

“I know, I’d be surprised if anyone working here didn’t know who you were.” You tease, grabbing his hand with yours and shake it. 

“Oh, I supposed you're right.” Lando rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, ‘way to make a complete fool of yourself, obviously, she knows who you are’ he thinks.

You giggle at his response and offer him a smile, “I’m Y/N,” but before you can say anything else you are interrupted by the shrill ringing of your phone, “and I am needed elsewhere, have a nice day Lando. It was lovely meeting you.”

Lando watches as you answer the phone and scurry off elsewhere, but he is definitely going to have a good rest of his day now, not even the lack of a doughnut hole could bring his day down.

Before what you and your coworkers now call the doughnut hole occurrence™, you've never interacted with Lando, there were a few occasions where you happened to be at the same meeting as him, but never enough for him to notice you or have him introduce himself. Now, however, you seemed to be seeing him a lot more, well more than the other McLaren driver. Maybe, it was because both of your schedules lined up or it was like that phenomenon where you see one certain car, then all of the sudden you’re seeing that car everywhere. But what changed in the matter of weeks that now he was everywhere? 

You would be lying if you said you didn’t find the British driver attractive. But you were two separate worlds away, you- an assistant who was a constant people pleaser, and he was, for a lack of better words, himself. You didn’t consider the two of you friends, hell you had one conversation with the guy over a breakfast treat. You didn’t even really consider the two of you colleagues, you both ran in different circles of the racing world. That fact didn’t stop you from giving him a smile every time you saw him and to your, and your coworker's surprise, he would give the small gesture a return. 

You truly hated being a people pleaser, especially now more so than ever as you stood outside the door of Lando’s driver room. “Stipud Debbie, stupid saying yes. ‘Oh Y/N they need a temporary assistant for Mr. Norris. I told them you’d be perfect for it', ” you mimic Debbie, your supervisor. “Why couldn’t I have said no?” 

Many of your co-workers liked to joke that you were a jack of all trades. That you could be pushed into the deep end without knowing how to swim and learn that second. You were a quick thinker, that's how its always been. But even the most flexible of people had their limits, and you were currently staring yours in the face. 

Lando didn’t know what to expect as he opened the door of his room to the hallway, but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting you of all people to be standing there muttering to yourself. 

“Can I help you?” Lando asked, puzzled as to why you were here. 

“Sorry, I don’t know if you remember me, I’m Y-”

“Y/N, “Lando interrupts, “I remember you. You’re the girl I gave my doughnut hole to.” 

“Oh, yeah. That’s me,” you chuckle out, “it looks like I’m your new assistant for the foreseeable future.” 

“I don’t really see the need for an assistant,” Lando says. His words cause your face to fall, and he quickly tries to backtrack, “It’s nothing personal but during the season I am either- traveling, racing, doing media duties, or sleeping. So I really don’t know who said I needed one.” 

“I don’t know either, Debbie, my supervisor recommended me and now here I am,” you gesture out, “and I really don’t want to tell my boss that you said that.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find something for you to do. I mean I do, do things.”

“Ok,” you draw out with a nervous breath, “I mean I am a bit of a people pleasure. As long as you don’t ask me to do anything gross, illegal, or really immoral I think we’ll be fine.”

“See those are all the things I need an assistant for,” Lando jokes. He notices how your shoulders lose some of their tension. “But if you are my assistant does this make me your boss?” 

You seem to ponder his question, “Maybe, but probably not.” 

“Fair enough.”

The first few weeks of working for, or more with Lando have proved to be smooth sailing. You weren’t being pulled in eighteen million directions, nor were you running around like a headless chicken. Lando was right when he said he didn’t really need an assistant. You probably answered a few emails, some phone calls, ran out and have gotten him a few random things but that was about it. 

There were also a few things you have learned about Lando during your time together. He never demanded, he always asked politely- something that your previous employers and co-workers never did. He also always insisted on eating meals together, anytime he ate he always made sure you were eating too. Lando also talked a lot, not that it was a bad thing, at first it was a bunch of small talk- he asked about your family, if you hand any pets, what your friends were like, what kind of hobbies you enjoyed, things like that. Then he would ask your opinions on things, what he should wear, what sandwich he should get and once joked with you, “you’re my assistant, you should be telling me what to do anyways.” It almost felt like a friendship instead of an employee-employer relationship. 

Today was no different, Lando was going on about some TikTok he saw the previous night, a TikTok that he had already sent you. “And the dude wiped out and ate shit. I’m telling you, that while I felt bad, I almost peed my pants from laughing so hard.” 

“The way he landed, there is no way he didn’t break a bone or several.” You responded not looking up from your computer. 

It was hard working with a funny, talented, kind, handsome man. A man whom you were already attracted to without knowing him and getting to know him, the really Lando Norris, was only making it worse. 

“Let's do something, I’m dying of boredom,” Lando drones out, flinging himself down on the couch next to you. 

“Lando, I am trying to reply to some of your business emails, y’know my job.” you continue to type away, trying to emphasize your point. However, you are rudely interrupted when your laptop is ripped out of your grasp. 

“The emails will still be there later, let's go do something!” Lando exclaims now dangling your computer away from you. 

“Like what?” 

“I don’t know, I was hoping you’d have an idea.” 

“Yeah, I got one.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, it's called giving me back my computer so I can do my job,” you deadpan as you lunge for your computer. Lando's reflexes however are much quicker than your movements, so you are left pressing into him, computerless. 

You quickly sit up and turn away from him, trying to hide your embarrassment. By doing so you miss the small frown that Lando gives at your quick retraction. 

Lando however quickly recomposes, “I know,” he stands, “let's go bowling!” 

“Bowling?” 

“Yeah, y’know, the game where you basically throw a heavy ball down a lane and try to knock down the pins.”

“I know what bowling is you doof.” 

“Then why’d you say it like that?” 

“Because out of all the options in the world, you pick that.” 

“For your information, I like to bowl.” 

“Yeah, you also like to golf. You really like your old man sports huh?” You tease. 

“Hey! That’s not very nice missy,” Lando waves his finger at you mockingly. 

“Fine, I apologize Mr. Norris. I would love to go bowling.” 

“Yippie!” 

“Lando?” 

“Yeah?”

“Never say that again.” 

“Yeah, right, sorry.” 

Lando was excited, he actually didn’t know why he picked bowling. Truthfully, he just wanted to get out and do something, preferably with you. These past few weeks with you as his assistant have been amazing. Not because he had someone running around doing his bidding, but because he had someone to talk to. At first, it felt weird talking to you, he kept asking you random questions. He didn’t want you to feel pressured into answering him just because in some run-around way he was your boss. He wanted you to feel comfortable around him, and he could tell that the more he joked around with you, the more at ease you felt.

The two of you walked down the hallway towards the exit, talking seemingly about nothing. Well, you were doing most of the talking, not that he minded, he could listen to you ramble for hours. Whenever you were around, everything else became fuzzy. He noticed how your eyes got a certain twinkle to them as you talked about your favorite things. He knew how you loved Oreo cheesecake, and that your favorite doughnut holes were the red velvet ones, but since catering didn’t offer those you had to choose your other favorite, powdered sugar, and that you also had a distaste for fish, claiming it tasted like how still water smelled. 

He tried to show you that you were more than an assistant to him. He always made sure to eat with you, he never demanded anything, he asked your opinion on important things. Lando knew, however, that those things were the bare minimum, hence why he asked you to go bowling. 

“Where ya going?” The familiar accent of Lando’s teammate stopped them in their tracks. 

“Hey Oscar,” you turned to great the Australian, “Lando wanted to go bowling, so I guess we're going bowling.” 

“I haven’t been bowling in forever. Last time I went I had to play with the gutters up.” 

You gasped, clasping your hands in front of you, “why don’t you come with us?”

Lando froze at your invitation, he was hoping that it would just be the two of you. He could see Oscar's gears turning in consideration. He looked at you then behind you at Lando, who was shaking his head and moving his hand in front of his neck, trying to tell his teammate to say no. 

A grin split across Oscar's face, “y’know what, I would love to go bowling with you and Lando.” 

At Oscar’s response, you swiftly turned back around to Lando, who swiftly changed his movement. Rubbing the back of his neck he gave you a sheepish smile, “great, the more the merrier I guess.” 

The drive to the bowling alley was painfully quiet, normally the silence would be filled by Lando’s rambling but the Brit had no quirky comments. This led you down a spiral, did you do something to upset him? Was he mad at you for inviting Oscar? You thought the two of them were close and that Lando would’ve invited Oscar anyways after running into him. 

The three of you entered the alley still in silence and frankly, you were fed up with it, “is this a bad time to say that I am absolutely terrible at bowling?” 

“No,” Lando speaks up, “it just means that I am going play the easiest round of my life.” 

The clerk hands you your shoes and assigns your group a lane. “I feel like a clown with these shoes,” Oscar admits. 

“You look like one too,” Lando deadpans. 

“Jeez, no need to be rude.” 

You look at Lando with a raised brow. You can't tell if he is joking or not. 

“Anyways,” you but in, shifting their attention to you, “How are we going to decide who goes first?” 

“It’s only fair that the master goes first to show the peasants how it's done,” Lando declares. 

You and Oscar share a look of ‘can you believe this guy?’ “Go for it then all mighty master.” 

You watch as Lando goes for his turn, and much to Oscars and yours amusement the ball goes straight to the gutter. The little screen over the lane plays a silly animation indicating that Lando, had in fact, not hit a single pin. 

You are unable to control your laughter, tears pool in your eyes. You have to hunch over in your seat in order to keep your laughter at bay. 

“It’s not funny,” Lando pouts. 

“You’re- you’re right,” you wipe at your eyes and take a deep breath, “it’s not funny. It’s fucking hilarious.” You managed to get out in between a fit of giggles. 

“You're lucky your laugh is cute,” Lando waves his finger in warning. 

Your stomach flips at his admission. Your laugh, cute? Your gaze meets Landos and he is quick to turn around and go for his second turn. 

“Did I hear that right?” you whisper to Oscar. 

“Yup,” is all he offers in response. 

You hear a collision of the ball and pins followed by a loud “SPARE!” from the overhead TV, indicating that Lando has in fact struck a spare.

“See I just needed a warm-up,” Lando says wiggling his fingers at you and Oscar. “Who’s next?” 

“Ladies first,” Oscar gestures for you to stand. 

Rolling your eyes you stand, “wow, so chivalry isn’t dead.”

Walking over to the lane you can’t help but look back at Lando, who gives you a double thumbs up. Taking a deep breath you throw the ball down the lane, and to your surprise, you manage to hit, not one, not two but four pins. 

“Not too bad,” you hear Lando from behind you. 

“All those years of Wii bowling must’ve paid off.” 

“Just don’t throw it backward.” 

“I make no promises.” 

Your next toss is much better, out of the six pins left you managed to knock down five. You turn around to gloat but the two McLaren drivers are in discussion, Lando looking pissed off and Oscar looking unapologetic. 

“Is everything ok over here?” You stand with your arms crossed staring down the two of them. You came out to have fun, not to babysit two pissy twenty-something-year-olds. 

“Everything is fine,” Lando snips out. 

“If you say so, Oscar you're up.” 

The Aussie groans, “you both did good, this is going to be embarrassing.” He points to you, “I thought you said you were bad at bowling.” 

“I’ve channeled the Wii bowling Gods and they have blessed me, maybe you can do the same,” you tease as you sit next to Lando. 

You turn your attention to Lando and quietly ask, “Is everything ok?” 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” 

“Well you were quiet on the drive here, you’ve been a little bit snippy towards Oscar and I. And just now- you were talking to Oscar and you looked pissed off.” 

“I’m fine.” Lando shrugs off your worrying. 

“He’s just pissy I interrupted your alone time,” Oscar interjects. 

“You went already?” Lando asked, surprised by the quickness. 

“Yeah, it goes by fast when you roll two gutters in a row.” He shrugs nonchalantly. 

“Wow, you really are bad,” you admit, “but what do you mean by ‘our alone time.” 

“Nothing,” he shrugs again. 

Lando is quick to get up, seemingly uncomfortable with whatever Oscar meant by ‘alone time’. Now you really need to know. 

“Oscar,” you poke him in the shoulder, “what did you mean by that?”

“Like I said, nothing,” 

“You might be able to act all innocent and good in front of the cameras, but you Oscar Piastri are the biggest shit-stirrer of them all.” 

Oscar just shrugs at that, leaving you to wonder what he meant. Did Lando truly just want to spend time with you and only you? Was this just because Lando saw you as a friend and wanted to hang out. Or was this as an ‘I want to get to know you better because I like you and could potentially have feelings for you?’ hang out? The first one, you rationalized, it's definitely the first one. 

The rest of the game went in a blur, too focused on what Oscar said and what your overthinking brain was processing. 

Lando has never felt more uncomfortable and furious at the same time, and all because of Oscar’s comment. He really shouldn’t have let it get to him, it was just a friendly jab, Oscar knew how Lando felt about you. He also couldn’t get the look on your face at Oscar's comment out of your head. You probably thought he was a creep or some weirdo. 

The ride back, albeit not as uncomfortable as the ride there, was still filled with this silence that Lando did not care for. 

“Mate, how did you manage to roll a gutter almost every single time?” 

“I don’t know, it's almost sad,” Oscar admits. 

“Oscar, it is sad,” you but in, “there has to be a statistic out there or something saying it's harder to do that than actually knocking down pins.” 

“You’re one to talk,” Oscar exclaims, “you still lost.” 

“Yes, Master bowler Mr. Norris reigns supreme. But at least I managed to score points. I even got a strike! That’s more than you can say!” 

“I am never hanging out with you two again. You are the worst.” Oscar huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and stares out the car window like a pouting child. 

‘Good’ Lando thinks to himself. He would’ve said it out loud but after you had asked him what was wrong at the bowling alley he tried to be in a better mood. Granted, having Oscar come along wasn’t what he had in mind when he asked you to hang out with him, but he still had an alright time. Plus, he did get to hang out with you, which was better than sitting around doing nothing while you answered emails. 

“I think I’m going to call it a night,” you told Lando once back in his driver's room. 

Lando whipped his head around to see you packing up your laptop and other miscellaneous belongings scattered around the room. “What? But it's still early.” 

“Yes, and I still have emails to answer remember?” 

Lando groaned at the remembrance, “but I’m still-” 

Lando stopped at the sight of your raised palm, “If you say you are still bored I am going to smack you, and besides I think you need to call it an early night because you were extremely crabby with me and Oscar earlier.” 

“Crabby? I’m not a toddler who forgot his nap.”  

“Are you sure? Because it was hard to see the difference earlier.” 

“I just wanted to hang out with you.” 

“And you did hang out with me, did you not? 

“Yeah, but Oscar was there too. I just wanted the two of us to hang out.” 

“Lando you see me every day, we ‘hang out’ all the time.” 

“No, you’re working most of the time,” he corrects you. 

“We get nearly every meal together, no? You send me TikToks, funny tweets, reels. You meet me after all your media duties, qualifyings, and after the races. We see plenty of each other.” 

“Do you not like spending time with me?” Lando asks dejectedly. 

“Did I say I didn’t like spending time with you?” 

“No, but you also didn’t say you liked spending time with me.” Lando points out. 

You roll your eyes and Lando watches as you walk closer to him. Lando feels the heat of your palms through his shirt where they lay on his shoulders. His brain nearly short circuits, while this isn’t the first time the two of you have touched one another, this one feels different. 

“Lando I like spending time with you,” you shake his shoulders. “Maybe a little more than I should.” It’s quiet and Lando knows that he probably wasn’t meant to hear that. However, he feels relieved at the statement, knowing now that the feeling is mutual. 

You smile again, “as I said earlier- I still have emails to answer and you should get some rest, you crabby toddler.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he waves you off, “Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?” 

“Of course, Goodnight Lando.” 

Lando can’t help the grin that breaks out on his face, and it stays that way till he falls asleep. 

It's the next morning and you are tying your shoes on when there is a knock at your door. 

“I’ll be right there, just give me a second,” you call out. 

You make it to the door and when you open it you are greeted with Lando’s smile. However, your view is obstructed when Lando all but shoves a brown paper bag in your face. 

“What is this?” you ask taking the bag, “it's not a dead animal is it?” 

“Do you think I'm so sort of psychopath?” 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” 

“Just open the bag.” 

Hesitantly, you unroll the top of the bag and peer inside. Thankfully, it's not a dead animal, instead in the bag lies half a dozen red spheres. 

“You did not!” You exclaim, and you can’t help but break out into a grin. “Where did you get them?” 

“I’ve never seen anyone get so excited over doughnut holes,” Lando laughs. 

“They aren’t just any doughnut holes! You got me red velvet doughnut holes, my favorite.” You pull Lando into a hug. In which he wastes no time returning your embrace, savoring the way you fit perfectly in his arms. 

“See I remember things, especially if they are about you.” 

You pull away, mostly from the shock of what you just heard. You can feel your cheeks heat up, and quickly you clear your throat, “Thank you, Lando, I really appreciate it. Do you want one?” 

“How can I refuse a pretty girl like you.” 

Your jaw drops, and Lando looks nonetheless phased as he pops the ball of dough in his mouth. 

“So on the agenda today is-” you begin, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach, pulling your phone out to see what is actually on the agenda for the day. 

“Nope,” Lando snatches your phone from your hands, “I’m kidnapping you for the day.” 

You stare at him dumbfounded, “what?” 

“You and me are officially off the clock for the entire day, no meetings, no phone calls, and no emails.” 

“I mean that's kind of you, but why?” 

“Why not,” he shrugs, “I thought you liked to hang out with me,” Lando wiggles his eyebrows. 

Your palm meets your forehead, “I’m definitely getting a headache by the end of today,” you mutter. 

“I hope that was a comment about how excited you are to hang out with your favorite McLaren driver.” 

“Who said you were my favorite?” 

“Ouch, I buy you doughnut holes and this is how you repay me?” 

“How ever will the little Lando Norris survive?” 

“Come on you loser, I have kidnapping duties to attend to.” 

Who would’ve thought that skipping work with the person you work for could be so fun? Lando had all but dragged you from tourist attraction to tourist attraction, shop to shop. It almost feels like a date, he opens the door for you, offers to pay for your trinkets, all the things a boyfriend would do. You are quick to remind yourself that this is just a friendly outing, just two friends hanging out. 

The topic of dinner was being thrown around, after eating junk all day the two of you needed some substance, “I was thinking sushi,” you tease. 

“I know you're joking because you also hate fish,” he points out, “I was thinking more Italian, I know a place.” Lando grabs your hand and drags you in what you assume is the direction of the restaurant. 

“Did you have fun today?” Lando asks as the two of you are seated in what feels like a set right out of a romance movie. 

“I did, thank you.” 

“I’m glad, I felt bad for my behavior yesterday. I felt like an ass.” 

“Is this why kidnapped me?”

“No,” he quickly shakes his hands, “I did this because…” Lando trails off. 

“You did this because?” You urge him to go on. 

Instead of giving you an answer he scratches his chin and looks shyly at you. Your mind automatically goes to the worst-case scenario. 

“You’re firing me, aren’t you,” you rip the band-aid off, no point in beating around the bush, “I should’ve known it. First, you get me my favorite treat, then you take me all around the city. Oh my God, I should’ve known.” You slump down in your chair and cover your face with your hands. 

During your spiral you failed to notice how Lando’s eyes nearly bludge out of his head, he too is now panicking. 

You feel Lando’s warm hands as he reaches across the table to grab your wrists, “Y/N, god no I’m not firing you,” you still refuse to look at him afraid that if you do you’ll burst out in tears. “Come on baby, show me those pretty eyes.” 

That grabs your attention. Your head quickly shoots up, “what did you just say?” 

“Um, that I’m obviously not firing you?” 

“No, no, after that, you called me baby.” 

“Yeah, it um slipped out.” 

“Oh,” is all you can manage out. 

Lando lets off a soft curse, “I was going to tell you after dinner, but the reason I was pissed off yesterday was because I wanted to take you out bowling, kind of as a date?” 

“As a date?” You ask in disbelief. 

“Yeah, but then you invited Oscar, and I tried to get him to say no but that little shit doesn’t know how to take a hint. Or more like he does and just wanted to see me suffer. He didn’t make it any better with those little comments,” Lando rambles on, “what I mean to say is that I kind of have liked you since you interrupted that meeting a couple months ago.” 

You have never been at a loss for words like you are at this moment. “You,” you point to Lando, “like me,” then point to yourself. 

Lando nods, “Why though? I mean why me?” you ask. 

“Well at first I thought you were cute, you look so frazzled but yet you held your confidence. Then you smiled, and I wanted to be the one you smiled at so badly. I thought I would never have the chance to talk to you but then there you were, swearing at the lack of doughnut holes, and I couldn’t believe the universe had given me a second chance. Then you got a phone call and scurried away before I could ask for your number or anything like that. I was so mad at myself for the following weeks. I couldn't get your laugh, your smile, your snarkiness out of my head. Then you were outside my door saying you were my new assistant, and I almost turned you away.” 

If you were lookin in a mirror the only way to describe how you looked right now would be similar to a deer in headlights

Lando continues, “then, these past few weeks, I’ve gotten to know you more and more and I couldn’t help falling more and more. So yesterday I was planning on confessing after bowling but then Oscar joined us and I was pissed off and I took out on the both of you.” 

“Oh. This is a walking HR disaster,” you jokingly mutter.

“If you don’t feel the same I understand. And I won’t be upset if you don’t want to work with me anymore.” Lando quickly adds in. 

“But I do feel the same. I’m just confused,” you admit. 

“What are you confused about?” 

“You’re a famous Formula 1 driver, you are so big in this world that McLaren probably wouldn’t be able to function if you left. I’m nobody in this world, if I left everyone would go on like it's a normal day.” 

“You’re not nobody to me. I need you to function.” 

You smile at his admission, and you close the distance between your hands on the table, “I would consider this an amazing first date.” 

“Really?” Lando asks hopefully, “I kinda just complied a bunch of stuff together hoping you would like it.” 

“I loved it,” you admit before a look of horror flashes over your face, “I didn’t say anything after your confession, did I?” 

“You don’t have to,” Lando interrupts. 

“But I want to, that morning when you gave me the last doughnut hole I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was just a small gesture that made my day. I thought I knew who Lando Norris was before then, an attractive Formula 1 driver who just so happened to drive for McLaren-” 

“You think I’m attractive?” Lando giggles. 

“Yes I do,” you sigh out, cheeks burning at the thought of saying the rest of your feelings out loud. “But you quickly became Lando, the person who asked about the little things, the person who got to know me. All the little quirks that make me, me. I was trying so hard to stay professional, not let your little touches, the way you would talk, or all the times you insisted on getting lunch with me, all those things get to me. I was surprised when you offered me your last doughnut hole but I am so thankful that you did.” 

“I guess we should thank catering for never ordering enough doughnut holes for this?” 

“We should, I guess that doughnut holes can be our thing.” 

“Of course, they can be our thing.” Lando pauses, “Does this mean we’re dating now?” 

“Take me on another date, an official one this time, and you got yourself a deal.”

[scoobydoodean]

ok so forewarning, i don’t really have a question here, just lots of thoughts.

there’s so many layers to the general *badness* about the mia vallens therapy scene. like to the manipulation (for lack of a better word) that sam rewrites. like it makes such a difference that she thinks jack is their little brother instead of the son of the thing that killed dean’s best friend/loml. not to mention the fact that it’s been what like a week since *everything*

and like yes dean’s being cold towards jack and giving him orders (which, i could argue they weren’t uncalled-for), but tbh he’s only being moderately colder/more direct with him than he’s been with cas at times on hunts (thinking hunteri heroici) and even similar to how *sam* has been with like claire and even dean himself (thinking that episode dean turned into a teenager and all of MOC). like genuinely, how was sam expecting him to act like?

also (half joking) i genuinely think dean would’ve warmed up to jack even quicker than he did (we can already see it in this same episode, like that look he gives jack when he asks mia if buddy hurt her too) if he heard jack say he hates anakin skywalker lol

ok wait i do have a question. do you think jack actually was “terrified” of dean during that therapy scene?

(post linking to some context)

Okay so I rewatched 13.01-13.04 on a plane this past week so it's all extra fresh on my mind rn. The thing about 13.04 is that Dean wasn't comfortable bringing Jack on the hunt, and Jack didn't want to go, but Sam pushed insistently for all of them to go on the hunt together... primarily because Dean's feelings were thwarting Sam's plans for Jack and his own emotional coping mechanisms in a larger sense.

I think Dean's feelings compared to Sam's here are relatively more simple (and yet somehow still intensely misunderstood to a baffling degree). Dean was grieving. He was grieving Cas who died right in front of him, he was grieving Crowley (he pleads with Chuck to bring "even Crowley" back in 13.01!) and he was grieving Mary.

The thing with Dean's grief over Cas is this: instead of viewing it from Dean's perspective, we tend to analyze it as omniscient viewers who know Cas will come back, refusing see how miraculous Cas’s return truly was. We refuse to see Cas's death was different this time and appeared very permanent. There was no uncertainty like there was in season 7 or 8. His wings burned into the ground and his grace extinguished. Dean pleaded and prayed for Cas and Mary and Crowley's return to the only person who ever brought Cas back from certain death (via explosion in 5.01 and 5.22)—the person who told Dean in 11.23 he was leaving and Dean was on his own. Dean didn't hear back. The ONLY reason Cas comes back in 13.05 is that 1) Jack woke him him up unwittingly using powers no one knew he possessed and 2) Cas then annoyed a creature they didn't even know existed into letting him out of a place they 3) didn't even know existed and 4) Cas somehow came back with a body even though he had been burned to ash. All of this is completely miraculous. It was unforeseeable. It doesn’t even make complete sense as a viewer. In other words, Dean has ZERO reason to hope for Cas's return. There was ZERO reason to refuse to acknowledge that grief… but that's exactly what Sam does. He suggests Dean pray for Chuck to bring Cas back in 13.01. As soon as Sam knew Dean already tried that and Cas was DEAD dead, he treated Cas as something Dean needed to reframe and get over:

SAM: You thinking mom is gone and Cas is gone, and that Jack can’t be saved. Dean, after everything we’ve gone through… We just lost people we love, people who have been in our lives for a long time. Everything’s upside-down. I get it. But we’ve been down before. I mean, rock bottom. And we find a way. We fix it because that’s what we do.

This is the "Pull yourself up by your bootstraps" speech in 13.02—like a day after they burned Cas's body. Sam's wording here is cruel too—saying Dean is "thinking" Cas is gone as if he didn't die right in front of him? He refuses to acknowledge Cas's death as something Dean was actively and rightfully mourning. This becomes a major point of contention between the brothers at the end of 13.03.

DEAN: Look, I know you think that you can use [Jack] as some sort of an interdimensional can-opener and that’s fine, but don’t act like you care about him! Because you only care about what he can do for you! So if you want to pretend, that’s fine! But me? I can hardly look at the kid! Because when I do all I see is everybody we’ve lost! SAM: Mom chose to take that shot at Lucifer. That is not on Jack!

Sam will only name Mary—the one person whose death they can’t 100% confirm (the same thing happens in front of Mia in 13.04). The absence of Cas’s name here is pointed. So Dean says:

DEAN: And what about Cas?

And how does Sam respond?

SAM: What about Cas?

Uh... wow. That's what really sets Dean off to full on shouting:

DEAN: [Jack] manipulated him, he made him promises, said, ‘paradise on earth’ and Cas bought it and you know what that got him? It got him dead! Now you might be able to forget about that, but I can’t!

Sam's denial of what Dean literally SAW (Cas died) and how that hurts—his insistence that Dean also halt grieving to hope for the impossible—it's a major sticking point and very revealing of Sam's own coping mechanisms. Sam's chief response to grief is to disassociate himself from it. We see a textbook case in season 8 (see: 8.08), but in most of the series, what this actually looks like for Sam is to keep moving and hunting (ex: 1.02, 2.02, 2.10, 2.11, 2.18 3.11, 4.09, 9.01) which is also why he insists on bringing Dean and Jack on the hunt in 13.04. Sam tries not to think about what they've lost and focuses on what he CAN do. He focuses on hoping Mary can be saved because she's the one person he didn't SEE die.

The thing about Dean’s grief over Mary is this: he convinces himself Lucifer had to have killed her. She's the one person whose death Dean can't be certain of, but he absolutely cannot bear the thought of hoping she’s alive and it turning out he’s wrong. He knows he wouldn’t psychologically survive hoping in that and his beliefs being crushed. It would be like losing his mom all over again (a THIRD time). So he sticks to what is most likely: Lucifer killed her. He can't contend with the hope Sam is clinging to desperately, and that's what makes them such poor companions in grief. Sam feels off balance when Dean won't keep moving and hoping like him—when Dean can't keep up the pace Sam wants to run at in his own grief—and in doing so, Sam keeps pushing Dean to contend with hopes that open Dean up to a WORLD of pain Sam can psychologically convince himself not to feel. Grieving together just really just doesn't work for them because they're never on the same page and deal in such different ways—and this has been hurting them from as early as 2.02!!!

Now to bring Jack into this more fully: Jack represents Sam and Dean's different perspectives on grief and on Mary. Just like Dean despairs over Mary's demise, Dean despairs over the possibility of Jack being good. He can't bear the idea of hoping in that and being wrong. The psychologically safest option for him is to assume the worst and not hope or believe in anything turning out okay.

Sam, on the other hand, pretty much immediately sees a way to use Jack to get Mary back. This is clear when he and Jack get locked up together in the jail cell in 13.01. After establishing that Jack isn't hearing things and (probably) isn't going to murder him imminently, Sam immediately starts down a line of questioning establishing how well Jack understands his powers, and then asks him outright:

SAM: Jack, look, um... before you were born, you -- you opened up a door to another world. Do you remember that? JACK: Yes. SAM: Okay, um, could you do that again?

Shortly after, when Sam arrives, he tells Dean (who is convinced after everything that happened in 12.23 that 12.19 that Jack is evil or will turn evil):

We need him.

Sam repeats this sentiment multiple times with clear meaning, and later in 13.04, he admits to Jack that he wants to use him to open the portal. This doesn't mean he doesn't also grow to see himself in Jack quickly and genuinely believe in his capacity for good, but he isn't fully honest with Jack about his motives until 13.04 where he finally comes clean, and this poisons the well with Jack a little.

@shallowseeker has pointed out before that in 13.03, while trying to figure out how to get Jack's powers to work (and spying on Jack through cameras from another room) Sam is seen reading "The Drama Of The Gifted Child". I wish I could find the post because Shal probably brought it up too, but when I was rewatching this episode, I noticed the chapter Sam had just settled into read before being interrupted was titled,

"Depression and Grandiosity: Two Related Forms of Denial"

Given the accusations flying from Sam toward Dean then from Dean toward Sam about denial in the following episode (13.04), this feels amusingly pointed. Dean is depressed (and about to attempt suicide in 13.05), Sam is depressed and has "grandiose" ideas of using Jack to pop open a portal to another reality while hiding behind the guise of being the most rational person in the room when he... isn't necessarily? And it's easy to argue "Well, Sam turns out to be right even if he didn't ultimately have much of a reason to think he was" but the core problem here is how his beliefs effect how he treats other people's grief. He isn't honest with Jack about his motives (while Dean is somewhat brutally honest) and pushes and watches even while claiming he's giving Jack space (13.03), he refuses to give Dean space to grieve even the family member they know is dead, he inserts a therapist into the situation and criticizes Dean's grief when Dean won't play his game, and in 13.05, after Dean says that he can't believe in anything right now, Sam's clumsy attempts at help involve plying Dean with alcohol he says he doesn't even want and trying to send him off to strip clubs—believing that Dean performing being okay will somehow address his mental state because Sam's idea of coping himself is simply "going through the motions".

As for Jack, I don't think he's scared of Dean. I think he's scared of what Dean believes. He's scared that Dean is right. From 13.01-13.06, Jack is contending with the question of whether he's destined for evil or good, and in his depressed state, Dean believes Jack is destined for evil because hoping in anything is completely beyond him at that moment. Sam tells Jack that he can be good, but he hides ulterior motives as to why he's being nice, and when those ulterior motives are revealed, it leaves Jack thinking Sam is the kind of person who will lie to Jack and tell him he's good just to get what he wants. Meanwhile, Jack knows Dean is being completely honest with him about what he believes. 13.03 and 13.04 clearly demonstrate that Jack understands the difference between beliefs and facts: Dean could be right or he could be wrong. What Jack holds onto like an anchor is that he can trust Dean to tell him the truth about what he believes—even if it hurts.

It's also just so obvious that Jack immediately wants Dean—specifically—to like him (see: Jack mimicking Dean's mannerisms while eating in 13.02, and his clumsy attempts to earn his favor in 13.04). Sam also picks up on this, and encourages Jack to seek Dean's approval in 13.04 to try and change Dean's beliefs. Sam (and to some extent Jack) are thinking in 13.04, that if Jack can prove to Dean that he can be good, and if Dean tells him he did a good job (which Dean does in the end), Jack can believe that. Sam sees that Jack wants Dean's approval and the impression that Dean's beliefs have had on Jack and thinks by pushing them together as soon as possible (when neither of them want to go on the hunt) and treating them as a family and forcing Dean to accept Jack when Dean just isn't ready (including by paralleling Jack with himself in a way that becomes an accusation), he can "fix" Jack so he isn't scared of his powers anymore (13.03) and then he can teach Jack to use his powers and Jack can open a portal to save their mom.

Jack's attempts to earn Dean's favor in 13.04 are clumsy. His first attempt is directly ignoring Dean telling him to wait in the car and sneaking into the crime scene, potentially contaminating it. At Mia's office, Jack's outburst about losing a mother is what allows Sam to set up the whole family therapy trap to begin with, and because Dean knows Sam is going to use that to hurt him, he warns Jack not to make outbursts like that. Dean is not being nice. Point blank. And I do think his tone is a little different than with Cas which in the past felt more like exasperation. I also don’t think it makes him the devil. I think that's understandable when putting in even a tiny amount of effort and it's kind of laughable to me how few people seem to even try because they're so caught up in Sam's happy family narrative and the idea that someone wanting Dean's approval presents an obligation that Dean give it no matter how emotionally impossible—and in a situation where asking him to lie would actually destroy that much more of Jack's trust.

[sehtoast]

Perfect Punishment (Homelander x gn!Reader Smut)

18+ | spanking, leg humping, technically supe!reader (vague), sublander, light choking | Fic Directory

Suffice it to say, you're never quite sure how you end up in these situations. Granted, the common denominator in all of them was that Homelander was an endlessly voracious man in need of an infinite amount of attention, and he'd go to any lengths to get it. 

Even this. 

“Mmm, harder…” He hums as your palm strikes his rear, a playful grin etching into his face at the resounding slap.

“I thought this was a punishment,” you say as you rub soothing circles over the red of his briefs. “Doesn’t really count if you like it.” You're almost ready to stop and leave him hanging as a real punishment. 

“Right, right. Ah! Ow!” 

You roll your eyes at his theatrics. You'd teased him about being such a bad boy, but it seemed like he was all too happy to fill that role. His behavior cranked past ten, and now here you are: The Homelander himself bent over your knee, underwear pulled down just a smidge and pants at his ankles. 

You're not even sure who made the spanking joke first, but god knows his eyes practically lit up like a Christmas tree at the mere mention. 

For his smart comment, you swat significantly harder. You could never actually hurt him– maybe just sting him a little.  In fact, you have a sneaking suspicion that the power dynamic reversal is what has him rocking against your thigh like the needy little thing he is. So pathetically horny at the idea of being weak and vulnerable for you. 

Of being punished by you. 

Not even his commentary could hide it. 

“Oooh, that one tickled.” He snarks one more time, but his voice betrays him completely. A slight quiver in his words, a shaky breath exhaled, cheeks turning a light pink. “C'mon, babe. Give it to me. Unless you're all talk…”

Antagonistic little… 

You grip his briefs and rip them clean off, revealing his bare ass to knead and squeeze to your heart's content. You loop an arm around his neck, restricting his throat between your forearm and bicep, tugging him just enough to make his back arch. 

“You're a very bad boy,” you whisper, nails scratching his glutes. What little fabric survived the rip still miraculously covers his cock as he grinds against you unabashedly. You wind up for the swing and–

“Mmph!”

Like music to your ears, he chokes on the cutest little sound. Something squeaky and precious, surprise vocalizing high in his throat at your sudden brazenness and strength. 

“You just wanted to hump my leg like a dog, didn't you?” You accuse, tightening your arm at his neck. You rub your last strike tenderly, letting your fingers slip along the curve of his crack. You can practically feel the way he shivers against you. “You’re makin’ a mess down there, aren’t you baby?”

Even pressed firm against your leg, you can feel his drooling cock twitch with need. The surviving scrap of fabric has to be drenched at this rate– you can almost feel the heated moisture and you know damn well his cock weeps practically the whole time he’s aroused on a regular day. 

A breathy moan escapes his slack mouth the second your fingertips graze his sack, hips bucking forward to seek more of whatever delicious friction he'd found against your lap. 

“You just wanted to lay on me and get played with like the little whore you are.” You trail your hand back and grip a cheek as hard as you can, nails biting into his flesh. “Admit it. You acted out for attention.” 

“Mmm, yeah– fuck,” he confesses through a breathless whisper. 

For his honesty, you reward him with a warm palm to his balls, feeling them tighten every time a pulse of pleasure surges through his body from how you play with him. 

He keens softly, eyes screwing shut against the twist of bliss knotting in his core.  He ruts even more brazenly than before, as if he wasn’t just getting spanked mere moments prior for always having to have his way.  Your body rocks with the strength of his thrusts, so you angle your leg to press back against him.  Sure, he was being ‘punished,’ but you’re not totally cruel.

“You wanna be my good boy, right?”  You ask ever so innocently in his ear, breath fanning against the shell of it in a way that makes him arch further back.  His mindless little nods make you grin sharply. “I thought so…”

Your hand comes down with a sharp crack against his right cheek and he writhes against you, mewling through his restricted throat.

“Count ‘em off for me,” you say, squeezing his neck a little more.  You let off for a moment only to remind him to speak up if something’s too much, then squeeze again.

Slap!

“O-One!”  He announces, hips bucking against you.  

You can hear it in his voice– he’s like a time bomb ready to blow.  His expression is infinitely more desperate. Hooded red eyes, cheeks burning a deep crimson, tongue peeking out just over the edge of his lower lip.  If there was ever an image fit to sit beside whore in a dictionary, it was the sight of him like this.

“Tell me how good you’re gonna be for me after this.”

“I’m– I’m gonna be so good!”  He promises through panted breaths.  “Good for you– good f–”

You don’t let him finish before you swat his reddening flesh several more times in quick succession, watching with pure satisfaction as that mouth that never stops running opens to moan so loudly you’re almost sure the floor below must have heard it.

“N-Nine… No– no, fuck!”

Poor thing had to make a guess.

You tsk at him in false disapproval.  “Good boys don’t lose count,” you say, even though he was definitely right.  “Start again.”

And he did, too.  By the time you make it back to the count of nine, his legs are quivering and his precum has soaked through the leg of your pants.

“Please, please, please!” He mewls desperately.  “Let me– oh fuck, please let me come! Please, just– fuck I need it! I’ll be good!” He’s rocking against you without permission of any type as he spouts off promise after promise to behave himself for you.  “Good– good b-boy… I’m your g’boy, I p-prom– ohfuckohfuckohfuck!”

And just like that, he’s blowing a thick, creamy load against you, legs spasming and glowing eyes rolling back in his head as you hold him through what must be an absolutely earth shattering orgasm if the full body trembling was anything to go by. Your name falls from his lips in a repeated prayer until all he can do is simply mouth it silently. 

Your lips are to his ear the whole time, whispering affections and praise, adoration and love in droves.

“You are my good boy,” you say, accentuating your words with soft caresses to his sack.  “My very, very good boy that I love so much.”

“M’your g’boy…” he murmurs weakly, eyes shut as he sinks into the glow. For a second, you think he might actually be calm for the rest of the evening.

Who are you kidding?  He’s going to act up all night after this.  You wager you've got about fifteen minutes of aftercare and snuggles before that switch flips and you're fucked on every horizontal and vertical surface he can possibly think of. 

And you? 

You’re gonna love every fucking second of it.

[gallaghersgal]

MIND OVER MATTER, lip gallagher

chapter two of BORDERLINE. lip x bsf!reader (nickname: MK)

TAGS & WARNINGS → general shameless themes, smoking, swearing, karen's here and she's a bitch, lots of best friend moments <333

CHAPTER SUMMARY → the days get colder and lip remains stubborn. it's mostly due to his on again off again relationship with karen jackson, the girl who says she's pregnant with his baby. and, conveniently, the girl that hates your guts.

A/N → thank you so much for waiting on this one!!! took me a while to update because i just want every little detail to be perfect 🥹

WC → 1.7k

As autumn gave way to the icy cold of winter you found yourself staring out the window of your seventh period classroom. An old pair of wired earbuds connects both you and Lip to your school issued laptop, which the two of you were using to form your monthly shared playlist. It was a tradition you had started yourself at the beginning of this year, but Lip had wormed his way in as he seemed to do with everything else in your life, insisting he be allowed to add songs since he had to ride along with you everywhere. You’d told him it came with his lack of license, and he’d pestered you until you allowed him ten songs per playlist. 

Lip’s elbow digs into your ribs and pulls your focus away from the flurries starting to fall outside the window. “Skip this shit,” he mumbles, referencing the Taylor Swift song that just started.

You roll your eyes but skip it regardless, it didn’t fit in with your november lineup. Satisfied with the song that follows, you navigate away from the playlist, opening up your email. “I signed us up for a tour at UChi,” you say casually, eyes flicking over to gauge his reaction. He rolls his eyes and ignores you entirely, clearly annoyed with your choice. So this is still an uphill battle. Got it. “If you won’t go for yourself, at least come along for me? That way ‘m not alone.”

You watch Lip as he considers it, finally nodding his head after a moment of silence. The dismissal bell rings and your teacher gives some spiel about homework but neither of you care to listen. Like a well oiled system you return each other’s borrowed things–your pretty pack of highlighters Lip liked to use for annotation, the pencil he miraculously had when you forgot your own, the laptop which belongs to you and earbuds that belong to him–packing them up and practically racing each other out the door. You stumble through the back row as Lip dashes in front of you, pulling out a chair to leave in your path. It’s easy to laugh, easy to forget how much you’re having to push him to take his future seriously. 

By the time you catch up to him in the hall, there’s a little blonde nuisance at his side. She kisses him obnoxiously, which you think is a little much for the fact they aren’t even official. You’d never say it aloud but you’re not convinced her baby even belongs to him. Her school slut reputation hadn’t come from being a prude after all.  But of course you’re willing to play the part, to be the supportive best friend, because you knew the alternative; being painted as a jealous whore, for the simple act of looking out for your friend. Safe to say, Karen Jackson makes you seethe with rage. 

She doesn’t even offer a greeting, just looks you up and down with a disgusted glare. Lip says she doesn’t talk about you behind your back, but you think he’s just trying to save your feelings. You understand it can be hard to keep the peace between two girls who are equally important to him. Though, you wish he’d wake up from his lust induced haze to see she’s just using him. As always you play the part you’re meant to play. The best friend, ever supportive, standing quietly to the side as they have their moment. A moment that makes you sick to your stomach, but is theirs nonetheless. Not your place to intervene. 

You decide to wait in your car instead of dwelling on it.

Hours pass idly by before you’re in the Gallagher house for the night, too cold and tired to walk the twenty or so steps across the street to your own home. It wasn’t your fault Ian rolled a joint and passed it up when you were already dozing off in Lip’s bed.

When you stub out the joint, Lip tosses a pillow down to the foot of the bed. You can’t help but find it odd, the way you sleep head to foot to keep air between you as if you haven’t shared each other’s space for as long as you can remember. Lip was always wherever you were, and the same went for you. Inseparable for as long as you could remember. But then there came this… tension. The awkward energy] that came with growing up, getting crushes, going on dates. Suddenly it wasn’t normal to curl into your best friend’s side. Instead, he slept on an air mattress when he visited your house, and you occupied opposite ends of the bed at his. 

You’re not sure when the change came about. You find that you hate it. 

With nightfall comes snowfall, and when you wake from an uncomfortable strain in your back you see the soft, white flakes falling outside the window. You sit up, accidentally bumping your head in your excitement. The thud along with the pained groan from your chest wake Lip up, blue eyes blinking blearily up at you in the dim glow of the streetlight. 

“Fuck’re you doin’ MK?” he grumbles, swatting away your hand when it gently shakes his hip. “Go back t’sleep.”

“Look, ‘s snowing,” you murmur, awe painted in your tone as you lean down to turn his head towards the window. 

His next words are muffled by the pillow he shoves over his face, attempting to hide from you and your antics. “We live ‘n fuckin’ Chicago, it snows here. Not like its a miracle.”

“Come outside with me?” you ask simply. The pillow is pulled away from his face and Lip gives you a puzzled look, which you fight with a drawn out whisper of “pleeeeaseeee?”

Lip has never been able to say no to your pleading. Tonight is no exception. Within ten minutes the two of you are outside in your pajamas, fingers clad in fuzzy gloves and feet nestled into too-big snow boots. The snowfall is already slowing when Lip pulls one of his gloves off, struggling to light a cigarette against the icy wind. Without a word you step closer and shelter the light with your body until it catches the end of the cig. When he exhales you mimic the motion with frosted breath. 

Lip is still laughing at your antics when you grab his bicep, tugging his body to the ground with you. “Wha- what the fuck!?”

“Snow angels,” you reply simply, “come on, have a little whimsy, some childlike wonder.” The snow is cold against your back but you begin to move your arms and legs regardless. You tilt your head and are pleasantly surprised to see a boyish grin formed around the cig tucked neatly between his lips. He mimics your motion, arms and legs pushing snow aside until his elbows are brushing grass. 

He offers you the last drag or two from his cig, propping himself up with his elbows dug into the compressed snow where his back had been. “Y’know, I don’t think I’ve made a snow angel since I was–shit–like, five or six?” He hauls himself up and uses his teeth to remove the remaining glove, his hands dipping down into the snow.

“Don’t you dare,” you warn him, your teeth baring with a nervous smile as he steps closer, “Lip! Don’t you fucking-” it’s too late, there’s snow down the back of your crew neck sweatshirt. You shriek, jumping to your feet and packing a snowball of your own for revenge. It’s easy to laugh with him. To forget the troubles that plague your young hearts, subjects far too mature which were introduced at far too young of an age.

You end your little snow escapade on the steps. Lip brushes the gathering snow off the wood to give the two of you room to share a seat and a cigarette. The smoke warms your body and the comfortable silence warms your soul. You watch as he rubs his hands together, lifting them up to feel the little heat provided by the tendrils of smoke. 

When he passes it to you, you take a drag and exhale through your nose, taking both of his hands in your own. You want to scold him lightly, it’s not smart to go without gloves in the snow, but with two hands occupied you can’t exactly hold the cig anywhere other than your mouth. So you stay quiet, and so does he.

Minutes pass in familiar silence. You write your name in the snow at your feet, digging out the letters with the heel of your boot. Lip does the same with the cigarette butt when it’s finished, and you complain how unfair it is that his writing looks much neater compared to yours. He smooths out the snow over your name, rewriting ‘MK’ in the space. 

As you head inside you become aware of how wet your clothes are, the snow melting in the slightly warmer temperatures, though you notice it’s not much. Lip lends you some clothes of his and politely turns his back while you change. Not that you would’ve cared much, anyway. 

“Fuckin’ freezin’ in here Lip,” you mumble, shivering in your hoodie and borrowed boxers as you climb the ladder after him. 

He laughs in response, reaching out to tug you into the softness of his chest. “C’mere, snow miser,” he grumbles, referencing a childhood favorite movie the two of you would watch every Christmas. A smile graces your lips as you settle against his chest, his warmth more familiar than anything you’ve ever known.

Lip tells you quietly about how Frank blew his most recent disability check, leaving Fiona scrambling for the small but important number he often contributed to the heat bill. He rambles on about how each of his siblings were dealing with the cold–something about Carl convincing Debbie her frosted breath was a magical power–and you feel yourself drifting off to the gentle sound of his voice.

In the morning the sun peeks through the worn curtains of the boys’ room. Gentle rays attempt to tug you from the comfortable embrace, but your unconscious mind only snuggles further into Lip’s chest. Carl is the first to take notice of this, snickering and elbowing a distracted Ian in the ribs as he pulls on warmer clothes. The older boy eyes the two of you and grabs Lip’s phone from his desk to snap a quick picture before ushering his younger brother out of the room. 

And when Fiona heads out to head to work, there are still two names written in the snow. With careful footing, she allows them to stay.

THX 4 READING → dedicated to my lovely @notsonian. beta'd by @tinyphantomsalad.

[gatitties]

Hiii!! I'm so happy that you're taking requests again. I love your writing! May I request Strawhats, Heart Pirates and Kid Pirates x female!teen!reader (Platonic)? Reader gets captured by the Marines for, I don't know, four months? And they got tortured nearly daily. Everyone has to win her trust again, because the torture was brutal and they took too long to get her out. The reader was extremely affectionate and cheery before she got captured, so her avoiding their touches and staying quiet really overdrive their nerves worrying about her. (By the way, if you can add Vivi, Yamato and Carrot to the Strawhats that would be great! They're part of the crew in my eyes. But if that's too much trouble then that's okay!)

─Strawhats, Heart Pirates & Kid Pirates x teen!reader (Platonic)

─Summary: Being kidnapped is not a pretty experience, neither is torture, your entire personality will change completely, but maybe they can heal your emotional wounds.

─Warnings: slight mention of kidnapping and torture

─ Everyone is devastated by your disappearance at first, if it weren't for the fact that it was something that not even they expected, Luffy would have burst in immediately to avoid everything that awaited you.

─ While everyone's anxiety increased every day, your hope faded little by little.

─ You remained adamant about not talking gritting your teeth as you felt all kinds of pain even when you moved a single finger.

─ They were mentally punishing themselves for letting them kidnap you and it created a huge commotion, no matter how much has passed, everyone continues counting the days while investigating information about your whereabouts.

─ Once you meet them again, it breaks their soul to see you in such a deplorable state, you barely seemed alive.

─ Chopper took care of all your wounds, noticing how you flinched with every touch, he was worried when you swatted Carrot when she tried to gently caress your back to comfort you.

─ Vivi and Nami did everything possible to make your smile shine again, but you couldn't even look up to face them, they would be constantly watching in case something happened or you needed help.

─ Sanji insisted that your diet be strict since it seemed like you had been starved, although he didn't receive your praise or help like before, he would be patient with that.

─ Zoro seems quite angry, not with you, but with the people who have made you like this, you used to admire his training and fawn foolishly, although he never said anything, he liked to see you there in that happy mood.

─ Usopp, Franky, Brook and Robin will take cautious steps with you, they know that you are more sensitive than usual so they will not force interactions that were previously everyday like hugs or quality time, at least, you would return to that slowly in the hope of to see your eyes shine with enthusiasm again.

─ Luffy and Yamato will be the least cautious, they will scold you slightly if they see that you are quieter than usual or if you don' t join in their games as usual, of course, they are somewhat more insistent than the others and more direct, but if you are really uncomfortable or overwhelmed, they will give you your space.

─ They just hope that all that horrible experience will be erased from your mind, they will assure you that no one else will put you through that hell again while they are there.

─ Law really didn't expect the plan to end so badly, he was really worried when he received the information that you were now being held captive with marines.

─ He really thought that not even the lowest scum would torture a teen, but his assumptions were wrong.

─ Shachi and Penguin were the ones who found you after you miraculously managed to escape, they were doing the relevant search for another barracks when you staggered towards them.

─ They cried with happiness and anger when they saw that you were alive but full of marks and wounds, they took you to Polar Tang immediately to leave that island and receive treatment.

─ A whole commotion was generated when the others saw you passed out in the arms of those two, Law remained silent, still with anxiety in the pit of his stomach when he was healing you.

─ He knew it, you weren't even awake and your body was reacting negatively to his touch, even if his intentions were harmless, you cringed with every bandage on your skin and even kicked him when you suddenly woke up.

─ Law wasn't bothered because you didn't apologize for that, he just frowned and continued the work with a little help from Bepo to hold you back since you were still having a hard time getting used to the fact that he wouldn't hurt you, it was an involuntary stimulus.

─ They had to scold Ikkaku because she jumped at you to hug you, although she managed to catch you, you hissed like an abused cat, which broke the woman's heart when she saw that you did not reciprocate something so everyday for both of you.

─ Bepo was disappointed not to be able to have your morning hug like every day too.

─ Law strictly expressed everything they should do around you, he knew that right now you were as delicate as glass and that your personality would not change from one day to the next.

─ They took it easy while you adjusted back to your old ways, feeling a little better about your surroundings.

─ Everyone celebrated in silence (because loud noises would scare you) when you decided to join in on your own to play cards instead of watching emotionlessly or locking yourself in your room.

─ Kid tried with everything he had, but it was inevitable that they would take you in the middle of a battle, before his eyes, if he could, his anger would have set his hair on fire.

─ Killer had to make a tactical retreat if they didn't want more casualties for the moment, and everyone decided to flee while the worst days of your existence passed.

─ Of course, Kid's pirates are quite brutal, they didn't do a little search for you, they burned and destroyed all the marine bases where they couldn't find you, being a threat to the future for whoever really wants to kidnap you again, because they were clear that they would find you.

─ And they did it, although they didn't like the sight in the slightest, your bruised state gave them a direct blow to the heart, taking into account that you were the smallest of the crew, they had that obligation to guide you and keep you safe.

─ Wire took you back to the ship while the others enjoyed destroying everything around them.

─ The crew did not usually be very open in terms of physical contact, but you were, you always found an opening to hang on to one of the boys and do something stupid, however, you did not even dare to get closer than two meters.

─ They also noticed that your idle, squeaky voice couldn't be heard chattering about anything you found interesting, which bothered them a little, thinking that all the chaos they had caused to get to you hadn't been enough.

─ The first one who dared to confront you was Heat, this crew does not have much tact when communicating things, but although his words were harsh, he wanted to assure you that none of this would happen again.

─ Killer softened and reaffirmed those words, hoping that you would slowly return to the same person you were before, he himself is not a happy and dazzling man, probably no one on the crew, but that's why they had you, they needed your optimism and smile to contrast.

─ Kid will get fed up quickly if you continue playing hide and seek in your room and will drag you like a scolded puppy so that you can spend time with them again like before, although he will let you free if he really sees that you are having a bad time, Kid can be a bad guy, but he wouldn't make you cry being one of his comrades.

[xoxoavenger]

Try Me

pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

summary: Y/N has powers that can heal any illness or wound through her cooking, which comes in handy when Matt gets hurt.

word count: 2279

warnings: small mention of wounds but not graphic

part 2

12 Days of Christmas masterlist main masterlist

"Matt, oh my God." Y/N said as she walked into the office to see Matt all bruised, a cut above his eye. "What happened?" She asked, walking closer to see it closer. He looked away, but she was already sitting on his desk, moving his glasses away.

"I, uh, I fell down the stairs." He told her, but she just shook her head and clucked her tongue. She reached into her bag to grab the pastry she packed that day. She always packed one everyday just in case, but she didn't think she would have to use it this early.

"Did you eat breakfast?" She asked, trying to keep herself from running a hand through his hair. Because of course she had to fall for him, her coworker.

"No, but I-"

"Come on, Matt." She smiled as she got off the desk, pulling her skirt down. "I can practically hear your stomach growling from here." With that she walked to her own front desk, Karen's old one. Y/N had taken over the blonde's position of secretary, and she was good at it.

"Good morning you beautiful people!" Foggy practically yelled as he walked through the door. The man had way too much energy for eight thirty in the morning. "Y/N, here's your coffee." He grabbed a cup out of the cup holder and placed it on her desk before winking at her.

"And here's your breakfast." She handed him a pastry, because she always gave one to him even though she knew it wouldn't do anything.

The truth was, Y/N had a power. It wasn't one she flaunted, hell, she hardly ever used it, but she practiced it just incase. She could heal people with her food; how, she wasn't sure, and she had only found it out ten years prior, when she made food for her friend. A couple minutes later, the small cat scratch on her friend's cheek was miraculously gone. After that, she continued to test her theory until there was no doubt in her mind that she had powers.

Just like the Avengers.

But she didn't want fame. She didn't want to be in an elite team of super heroes. She wanted the life she had, working with Foggy and Matt and Karen when she was in the office. It was a fine life.

Plus, she was totally in love with Matt Murdock.

"You're telling me I'm not the only one you make breakfast for?" Matt asked, causing Y/N to smile. She looked over to see Matt eating, which made her happy. She was glad he would be healing, and her heart was hurting slightly at the fact that Matt had to live all alone. Obviously he could take care of himself, but she wanted to be able to take care of him, to heal him when he did things like fall down the stairs.

"Fine, from now on, I'll make breakfast for both of you." She smiled as she looked between the two boys.

"That isn't fair! I bring you coffee, which means Matt has to bring you something too. You cannot just give your baking talents out like that!" Foggy complained, making Y/N roll her eyes.

"I'm sure I'll think of something. Until I do, just keep track." Matt smiled at her before going to his work, grabbing his glasses and putting them back on. Y/N stared for a few seconds before going to work filing and sorting.

~

"Matt," Y/N said in surprise when she walked in the next day. It wasn't surprise of his presence, he had often been in the office first now. Foggy told Y/N that he used to never come in, that Nelson and Murdock had once been done for because Matt never showed up, but he was obviously over it now. No, she was gasping because she was so in shock at his state. He didn't look any better from her pastry - in fact, he almost looked like he'd fallen again.

"Y/N," Matt smiled, but she could tell it was strained.

"Matthew, what did you do this time?" She sat on his desk once more, giving him the pastry. She took his glasses off before he could protest, and looked at his wounds.

"What do you mean?" He chuckled, shying slightly away from her. "I fell down the stairs."

"Twice?" She wiped her finger over some of the dried blood off his face.

"No, I fell the night before yesterday." He told her, wincing as she touched a fresh cut.

"No," She fought back, frowning. "That's fresh blood." She wanted to say that she knew it was new because the pastry should have accelerated his healing enough that he shouldn't be bruising this bad.

"Must've reopened a cut." Matt shrugged, but he made no move to move her hand. She rubbed her fingers over his bruises, hoping the pastry she brought today was enough to help him.

"I'm fine, Y/N. Don't worry about me." He waved her off and she stood, not wanting to annoy him.

"Have you figured out a way to repay me for the pastries every morning?" She asked, trying to find a topic he'd be comfortable talking about.

"Not yet. But, I promise I will." He looked in her general direction, eyes unfocused. She stared, not out of confusion or disgust, but out of wonder. Why would he hide his eyes? They expressed so much emotion, and they were beautiful. He must have sensed her staring, because he quickly felt around for glasses before putting them back on.

"Well, keep me updated." She said as she went to her desk.

"Morning!" Foggy was opening the door a couple seconds later, which put Y/N back in a good mood.

"Good morning, you beautiful person!" She said, referring to his greeting the day before.

"The usual, my fair lady." He said in a strange accent, and she tipped her imaginary hat to him.

"Thank you, kind sir. Whatever would I do without you?" She smiled as he went to his own desk.

"So, Matt figure out what to pay you with?" Foggy asked, bringing out his computer out of his bag.

"Not yet." Y/N shook her head, looking through the company emails.

"I know what he could pay you with." Foggy looked up and smirked at Matt, who began to talk at the same time of Y/N.

"What?"

"Shut it, Fog." Matt had temporarily paused his work, but he got back to it when the conversation dropped. Y/N looked between the two, but Foggy only smirked at her before going to do his own thing.

"Did you forget my pastry?" He asked, making her eyes widen. She had forgotten, and she felt slightly guilty. She reached into her bag to get Foggy's pastry, standing and bringing it to his desk.

"So sorry, sir." She joked, bowing and going back to her work. She couldn't help but sneak glances at Matt all day however, watching his bruise start to fade.

She smiled to herself when she left and his cut was almost fully healed.

~

She still made Matt pastries every morning, however he hadn't come in with any injuries that she could see.

Until he didn't come in a week later.

The door wasn't open, and even after she tried knocking she didn't hear any movement. So she tried calling him.

No answer.

"Hey Matt, I'm at the office and apparently you're not here, because you didn't answer the door, so if you could just let me know if this is a holiday or something?" She chuckled at the end, but her heart was beginning to pound. She called Foggy next.

"The time hasn't magically warped forward, has it?" He joked as he answered the phone.

"Where's Matt?" She felt bad but she needed to get down to business.

"He's not there?" Foggy began to get worried now as well.

"No, and he's not answering his phone." She told Foggy quickly. "Ya know what, I'm just going to check on him." She said, walking back out of the hallway and going down the stairs.

"Don't worry about it! I'm almost there anyway." He rushed out, but Y/N shook her head.

"I'm coming too." She wanted to help if she could, wanted to be there incase he happened to be injured. Foggy was quiet for a moment.

"Fine. I'll meet you there. He may be sick."

"He's not sick." She said. He had been eating her pastries every day, and she knew that was all someone needed of her cooking and baking to keep away from the common cold or viruses.

"He could be." Foggy pointed out, but Y/N shook her head as she walked down the street. Matt didn't live super far away, so it didn't take long for her to make it. Luckily, Foggy was also pretty close.

"I'll be there soon. Wait outside - the doorman is a stickler. He won't let you in alone." He told her, so Y/N confirmed and hung up. Foggy was there a minute later, and the two walked into the building together, hearts racing.

"He does this all the time." Foggy assured her, but she could tell he was freaking out, even if it was slightly less than her. "He probably just overslept." His voice seemed to give away more than his actual words.

"Right." She nodded as they began to climb the stairs. They got to Matt's floor and walked quickly to his apartment, Y/N banging on the door as soon as she could.

"Matt?" Foggy called out from her side, both of them going quiet to try and listen to what was going on.

"Matt, are you okay?" Y/N yelled, heart getting lodged in her throat as she couldn't hear anything.

"That's it," Foggy reached into his pocket to grab his keys, picking through them to find a key that Y/N assumed was Matt's. She stood back to let him open the door, and the two walked in, their worries for their friend outweighing the fact that they had just actually broken into Matt's apartment.

"Matt? Matt are you alright?" Y/N yelled, following Foggy in. She heard a groan from the living room and rushed with Foggy through the small hallway to see Matt on the couch, only in his underwear. She was about to look away when she noticed that he was covered in cuts and bruises, the blood wet around the cuts but drying down his body. There were at least four thick, deep cuts and dark, almost black bruises.

"Shit," Foggy muttered. He thought that Matt would be bruised from his after work activities, but he was hoping it wasn't this bad. He didn't want Y/N to come with him, but he couldn't exactly tell her no.

"Oh my God," Y/N made her way to his side, assessing the damage.

"I was hoping you'd find me." He muttered as he opened his eyes slightly. "I need your help." He grabbed her hand, shifting with a groan.

"With what? I can't stitch you up! I don't know the first thing about medical aid." She muttered, instinctively reaching up to push his hair out of his face.

"Maybe not," Matt chuckled but then ended up coughing, causing Y/N and Foggy to wince. "But you do know a thing or two about healing." Y/N froze, her heart stuttering. How did he know?

"What?" She whispered, but Matt squeezed her hand. "How did this happen? This is worse than falling down the stairs." She tried to change the subject, but Matt moved in pain again.

"I notice things." He said, as if that would explain everything. Before Y/N could answer, he was speaking again. "Could you make something while Foggy helps me clean up?" All she could do was nod and look in her bag, taking the two pastries she always brought for the boys out.

"If you can get these down, it'll help, but I'll make some soup." She smiled at him and got up, squeezing his hand before letting it go.

"What is going on?" Foggy whispered to Matt, making him chuckle slightly.

"Let's just say Y/N's soup is special." Matt closes his eyes and tries to ignore the pain while Y/N works. Foggy looks between them quickly.

"What the fuck does that mean?" He cries, making Y/N chuckle.

"It's alright, Foggy." Matt has a tired smile, one that worries his friend.

"You need medical attention." Foggy tries to convince Matt, who just shakes his head.

"Try to eat the pastries!" Y/N calls from the kitchen.

"What the fuck are pastries gonna do?" Foggy screams, wanting to rip out his own hair.

"Foggy, how many times have you gotten sick in the past six months?" Matt asks softly.

"That has absolutely nothing to do with you dying on the couch." Foggy gets up to grab a cloth to wipe at the blood on his face.

"I am not dying." Matt mutters with the roll of his eyes. Foggy returns and gets him to shut up by wiping at his mouth.

"The soup just has to heat up." Y/N comes out of the kitchen and kneels next to Matt. "Foggy, can you run to the store to grab some bandages?" She asks, taking the cloth.

"When I get back, you guys are telling me what I'm missing." He says very seriously before he walks out the door.

"How did you figure it out?" Y/N whispers, wiping his blood away with one hand and his hair out of his face with the other. "How did this happen?" She changes her question while shaking her head.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." He muttered, causing Y/N to scoff.

"The food I make can heal people. Try me." She smiles.

"Well, you know Daredevil?" 

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler @thefandomplace @punzoquack @mcueveryday @icequeen1371